#talking to myself in the tags like a sane person

[samuelroukin]

someone talk me out of getting izzy’s x tattoo as a little birthday treat for myself

[firendgold]

Since I saw that you're doing the violence ask game can you answer 22, 25 and 7??

I sure can.~

This one got long af though, so another readmore.

(still choosing violence)

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

This is another one I've answered already, but tbf... it was yesterday. So I can pull my second favorite part of canon instead so you don't have to re-read an older answer.

There's two moments that tie: one in year 5 and one in year 6. Year 5's moment is a nice warm-and-fuzzy "the trio are such good friends" scene, in the midst of Umbridge torturing Harry with her quill:

It was nearly midnight when Harry left Umbridge’s office that night, his hand now bleeding so severely that it was staining the scarf he had wrapped around it. He expected the common room to be empty when he returned, but Ron and Hermione had sat up waiting for him. He was pleased to see them, especially as Hermione was disposed to be sympathetic rather than critical. “Here,” she said anxiously, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid toward him, “soak your hand in that, it’s a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help.” Harry placed his bleeding, aching hand into the bowl and experienced a wonderful feeling of relief. Crookshanks curled around his legs, purring loudly, and then leapt into his lap and settled down. “Thanks,” he said gratefully, scratching behind Crookshanks’s ears with his left hand. “I still reckon you should complain about this,” said Ron in a low voice. “No,” said Harry flatly. “McGonagall would go nuts if she knew—” “Yeah, she probably would,” said Harry. “And how long d’you reckon it’d take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?” Ron opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out and after a moment he closed it again in a defeated sort of way. “She’s an awful woman,” said Hermione in a small voice. “Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we’ve got to do something about her.” “I suggested poison,” said Ron grimly.

Just seeing the trio bounce off each other is soothing (especially after reading days or weeks worth of fanfics where they all suddenly hate each other or were never really that good of friends or whatever). Harry's gratitude and stubbornness, Hermione's caretaking and forethought and plotting, Ron's voice of reason and necessary dash of humor... all perfect. Also, just... Harry is so used to going things alone, toughing things out by himself. It's heartwarming and sad that he still doesn't expect Ron and Hermione to do something as simple as waiting up for him to get back from hellish detention. Also also: Crookshanks curling up with him. ^^

Year 6's moment is just between Harry and Hermione:

Hermione stopped dead; Harry had heard it too. Somebody had moved close behind them among the dark bookshelves. They waited and a moment later the vulture-like countenance of Madam Pince appeared round the corner, her sunken cheeks, her skin like parchment and her long hooked nose illuminated unflatteringly by the lamp she was carrying. ‘The library is now closed,’ she said. ‘Mind you return anything you have borrowed to the correct – what have you been doing to that book, you depraved boy?’ ‘It isn’t the library’s, it’s mine!’ said Harry hastily, snatching his copy of Advanced Potion-Making off the table as she lunged at it with a clawlike hand. ‘Despoiled!’ she hissed. ‘Desecrated! Befouled!’ ‘It’s just a book that’s been written in!’ said Harry, tugging it out of her grip. She looked as though she might have a seizure; Hermione, who had hastily packed her things, grabbed Harry by the arm and frogmarched him away. ‘She’ll ban you from the library if you’re not careful. Why did you have to bring that stupid book?’ ‘It’s not my fault she’s barking mad, Hermione. Or d’you think she overheard you being rude about Filch? I’ve always thought there might be something going on between them …’ ‘Oh, ha, ha …’ Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way along the deserted, lamplit corridors back to the common room, arguing about whether or not Filch and Madam Pince were secretly in love with each other.

Very, very cute scene showing Harry and Hermione getting along casually, something we're not often treated to even in canon. A frankly disturbing amount of fans (particularly fans of A Specific Ship I Will Not Mention Here) have bought into the propaganda that Harry and Hermione aren't really that good of friends just because during GOF, when he'd just experienced his first ever schism with a close friend, Harry privately confessed to missing Ron and enjoying the things he did with his male best friend more. The trio is not "Harry and Ron, then Ron and Hermione". It's "Harry, Ron, and Hermione"; all three of them are necessary pieces of the whole. Harry and Hermione's friendship is different than Harry's with Ron, but it's no less valuable, and not any weaker, or else Hermione wouldn't have stayed in that damned tent.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Every bit of discourse about Sirius not getting a trial. We know. The injustice is the point. The cruelty is the point. The POINT is to show that wizarding Britain is glitz and glamor and not all that fair to its marginalized peoples and underclass, you nimrods. Frankly, the fanfics that purport to 'fix' it by giving Sirius his "restored Lordship" or a bunch of seats on the Wizengamot or immediate "wizarding guardianship" over Harry or some unnamed hot babes for him to fuck on or off-screen are very... shallow and unsatisfying. Either that or they give him a bunch of money, though this would at least be on brand for the Ministry. But like... yeah. I'm tired of this complaint always going in the same direction and not being a gateway to Greater Commentary On The Series and the World. Because it's not like Sirius and/or Harry become the type of people who rebel against this ideology. If anything, they embrace the pureblood nonsense in a lot of these fics and are just mad that Sirius was the target that one time. Gaaaah.

And, and. Every bit of discourse about Dumbledore leaving Harry at the Dursleys and/or the sacrificial lamb throwaway line by Snape, especially because 99.9% of people discussing it either haven't read the books, haven't read them since the first time and desperately need a re-read, have only seen the movies, are parroting opinions from some other wrong person on the internet, are all read-up but blatantly ignoring what Dumbledore and Harry say (and don't say) over what they THINK they mean, or some other lovely form of ignorance that leads to the same long-debunked takes being re-introduced as GASP-DID-YOU-EVER-CONSIDER soundbites over and over and over and OVER again. I'm so sick of it.

I get it, JKR's a TERF, you don't want to re-engage with her work, and you don't have to. You don't have to give her any more money. Hell, you shouldn't, ever again. But please, fucking make sure your knowledge is correct and not fandom telephone when it comes to Harry's childhood and Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I'm not-even-lowkey sick of some of y'all at this point.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them?

I... don't have an immediate answer for this, so I'm going to have to think about it. To you it's only going to take me one line, but for me it'll actually be like... an evening or something.

...

Okay.

This is difficult because (to use the exact terminology) I can't think of a character I've come to hate because of how the fandom acts about them. I definitely have characters whose most popular fanon versions are so irritating or repulsive that it has caused me to look more critically on the real versions of them, though. I guess maybe I'll list those here.

Fleur came to mind first. She seems (and can be) very shallow and haughty in canon at first, but shows compassion and hidden depths in all three of her appearances. She has some veela hair in her wand from her grandmother, and a deep devotion for her younger sister. However... many fanfics (especially harem fanfics or flowerpot fanfics) paint her as either this femme fatale who uses her "veela allure" at will and Cannot Fathom the idea of a man who can resist her (and is thus more vulnerable to falling in love with such a man) or as a super-powerful witch whose family is basically running Magical France (since of course, she is the only French character we know, so why wouldn't she be the most influential person there? /s). Basically, the "foreign" version of what people do to fanon Daphne Greengrass. Ironically, the best fanfic portrayals of Fleur I've seen are the ones that keep her shipped with Bill (with a few flowerpot exceptions, see A Beautiful Lie by MaybeMayba as the prime example), or ship her with Hermione or Ginny... which is sad because I love me some ship variety. (And I still think Bill/Tonks would've been rad as hell.) So I don't dislike canon Fleur, but fanon's "over-attention" to that possible veela heritage and the weird implication that Harry was just "forced" not to notice this perfect woman in his life, rather than just noticing her beauty and not being interested, rubs me the wrong way and disinclines me from including her in many of my own works.

The Bones family is next. Yes, both Amelia and Susan. Susan isn't as bad (I think she has... two lines in Order of the Phoenix? maybe?), but as with most "mostly undefined" HP girls, the personality the fandom has given her (the super sweet politically-savvy Hufflepuff girlfriend of "just do independent!Harry with Lordships and pro-Ministry propaganda and plenty of Wizengamot meetings between Hogwarts classes") is one I've seen so many times it has come to negatively affect my view of the real girl, even though I think the way she calls Amelia "auntie" in canon is adorable. As for Amelia, fanon likes to make her either the Only Sane Man in the Ministry or the leader of the sane faction, who magically is able to fix or ignore all the corruption in said Ministry and can railroad through whatever decisions Harry needs done once he needs to Do Political or Pureblood Stuff Outside of Hogwarts--provided, of course, he's been nice enough to Susan recently.

The closest actual answer to this question I have is Tom Riddle. I didn't like him in canon by any means--I'd probably say I was neutral toward him, just seeing him as "the young Voldemort before he did his magical girl transformation". But fanon kind of acts like he and Voldemort are... two different people? There's these pervasive ideas that either Tom could've been "saved" if Certain People Just Did More (to stop him sneaking around and bullying and murdering???), or that Tom wasn't really so bad when he was gathering up supporters, murdering his family members and the few people who trusted him, and generally going around Becoming the Dark Lord--it was just when he made the switch that he became bad. And like... no. I can't buy that. Even in fanfic, I can't get fully behind the idea of a sane Tom Riddle who was Doing Good until he got sidetracked Oh Nooo. He wasn't. I believe Voldemort was saner before he tried to kill a baby and it backfired, but I don't think there was ever a point where he could have been saved. At every fork he made the wrong decision--to soothe his ego, to feel powerful, to feel special, to feel better than others and make them feel that way too. Tom Riddle's a prick. If anything, we should've seen him squirm a little more before he died.

The last one stings, because it's a character I adore: Hermione. Hermione is a very polarizing figure in canon and always has been, I get it. But what particularly hurts me about her fanon portrayals is that they are VERY SELDOM accurate, or even balanced. Either the author sees her as Their Wife and so she is perfect and never does any wrong and basically becomes the main character of the fic (even if she is not actually the main character), or they overinflate her flaws and use it as a reason to hate on her and bash her to oblivion. There's rarely an in-between. I'm not sure which one is worse. If you held my feet to the fire, I might say the former because a character without any flaws or one who takes over the entire narrative and doesn't let other characters breathe is not fucking interesting to me in the slightest.

This especially hurts because I am a huge Harmony fan and like 60% of bad Harmony fanfics are always the same fucking tropes/plotlines. Hermione is unironically referred to as The Brightest Witch of THE Age (incorrect, not what Remus said. he said "the brightest witch of your age I've ever met", basically meaning she's unusually smart for a fourteen year-old girl). She's treated like the next female Dumbledore who has all the answers (even about stuff she wouldn't know) and often guides Harry's every move.

And speaking of Dumbledore--the same girl who is supportive of him in canon and (after Harry) is MOST likely to recognize Dumbledore as a human who can make mistakes is ALWAYS turned into a Dumbledore Skeptic Who Has Been Suspicious of His Motives All Along, and who will do whatever it takes to get her boyfriend away from his manipulations... by taking manipulative!Dumbledore's place. That's right. This version of fanon Hermione ALWAYS becomes the same thing the author is supposedly railing against, because Harry becomes her mouthpiece, spends all his time with her to the exclusion of anyone else, and can't have a single meeting or meaningful scene with any other character unless she is also present.

Haphne fics do this too, but I swear they got it from bad Harmony fics and it makes me so mad. For once, I would love to read a Harmony fic where Dumbledore is portrayed accurately and both Harry AND Hermione are equal, independent partners who don't have panic attacks if separated for more than five minutes. Especially because as a child Hermione never struck me as the kind of person who even would get married or have a serious relationship distracting her from her Great Work!

But yeah. That last one hurts the most because I love Hermione as an individual, as the very important third of the trio, as a potential partner for Harry (though this isn't the right blog for that!), and just as an iconic character.

I... think that's all? Yep. Thanks~!

[cherrylight]

le sighs and screams loudly into my hands

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 5

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (enlightened!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, lengthy discussions about life and whatnot, watered-down metaphysics lol A/N: I was at the crack house with Grimes when I wrote this. I don’t know where this came from.  (Something a little more introspective for this chapter!)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9

“Don’t go all shy on me now,” Sylus teases, a playful glint in his eyes. “After all that effort to make me confess. You’re very persistent, you know.”

“How do you expect me to react right now?!” The words spill out in a rush, a slightly hysterical edge to your voice. “I–I’m talking to an actual fictional person. I’m one reason away from admitting myself to a psych ward!”

You catch sight of the wall clock–your favorite one with the Dalì reference–slightly skewed off-center from its place on the horizontal beam above your small kitchen area, reading 10:48. The ruckus coming from outside the window is slowly dwindling down to a quiet buzz as nightfall sets in, and the day’s winding to a close.

You’re lying on your stomach, still in your chaise lounge, while he’s sat on that ridiculously posh café chair; both of you settled in for the long due conversation. Somehow, the camera’s perspective is much closer than it should be, giving you a much more intimate view of him—a feature that wasn’t originally an option in the game.

If it weren’t for the elephant in the room, you could almost pretend you’re on a video call with a… friend.

Sylus purses his lips in amusement. “You’re quite prone to theatrics, aren’t you?”

You shoot your ‘friend’ an irritated glare.

Even from across the small rectangular screen, you register the barely there smirk playing at his lips.

Likely avoiding another outburst from you, he acquiesces. “Fair enough. The situation is hardly what you’d call ideal–I’ll admit.” There’s a short pause. Then, “... I still can’t quite grasp what separates us, you and I.”

Great. Will you actually get the answers you're looking for, or are you both just stuck in the same carousel ride?

He sees the lost look on your face and sighs, “Ask. I’ll answer as best as I can.”

The first question tumbles out before you can think twice about it. “How are you even talking to me right now?”

He hums, “That is the question, isn’t it?”

“What—you can’t just answer my question with another question!” you grouse, brows furrowing in annoyance.

He exhales a quiet laugh before his expression turns contemplative. “Truth is, kitten—I haven’t the slightest idea either. I have my theories, but... nothing concrete.”

“Well, let’s hear them,” you reply dryly. “Better than thinking there’s something wrong up there,” pointing a finger to your temple to drive your point, “believing that a character from a mobile game is actually alive.” 

He idly gestures toward himself with a fluid sweep of his hand, much like a magician revealing a clever trick. 

You roll your eyes. “Oh, alright. So I’ve officially gone off the deep end.”

“Do you really find my existence that difficult to believe?”

“Uh—yes?? Unless I’ve developed some sort of latent schizophrenia or entered the Twilight Zone, you shouldn’t exist. In my–in this world. In this dimension.”

His expression shifts, a hint of challenge flickering in his eyes. “The assumption that only one version of reality can be true—either yours or mine—is a bit limiting, don’t you think?”

His words give you pause. “You’re talking about… the possibility of an altered reality? Right now?” You give him an incredulous look. “Seriously?”

He shrugs as if to say ‘why not?’ “What even qualifies as the ‘true’ reality?”

There’s a lot you could say in response to that. You could argue all night that only one reality can exist, because any sane person should know better than to entertain the idea of anything else. That should be obvious. 

But the thing is—this whole ordeal has already crossed the threshold of rationality. So is it even worth trying to apply logic anymore?

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Or however it goes. 

Thanks, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. You’ll miss the last threads of your sanity by the end of all this.

So fuck it. Go big. 

"I’m not saying your reality is less valid than mine," you start. And oh, boy. You’re doing it. Eat your heart out, Doctor-Fucking-Who. 

"Of course not." he disagrees indulgently, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I just…” you struggle with your words, mouth opening and closing before you continue hesitantly. “I can’t wrap my head around how all of this is possible. How this entire conversation is even happening, and–and how our realities are… currently overlapping? If–if what you’re suggesting is true.”

He doesn’t say anything, knowing you have more to add. So he allows the pause as you gather your thoughts, patiently watching.

“If we're breaking it down to pure reason, the odds of our paths crossing should be impossible. At least in this… timeline." you finish unsurely, the last part sounding more of a question than a statement.

"And yet, here we are." Sylus points out, as if he’s already expecting the end of your sentence. Something close to mischievous glee lights his eyes. "Maybe it’s cosmic intervention. Something—or someone—wanted this to happen."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Really? You didn’t expect to hear that from him, of all… people. 

“What, God?” you can’t help but snort. 

“No–fate.” he smiles.

Oh. 

“That’s…” you stammer, then clear your throat. “I don’t know if I believe in fate.” 

“I used to think I did. Or at least,” there’s a faraway look in his eyes. Both of you are likely thinking the same thing, considering what you know about him—which to say, is a lot. “I once believed I knew of my fate. But now…” 

He blinks a few times, as if to physically clear the thoughts from his mind. Then his eyes lock onto yours, sharper this time, with a renewed intensity.

Your palms start to sweat; you feel the conversation is about to cross a tricky line. There’s something heavy in the air, a weight you’re not sure you’re ready to confront for the time being.

With your heart in your throat, you brusquely redirect the topic.

“S-so,” you force out. “How are you different from the other Syluses that other people are… playing with right now?”

He scoffs, drumming his fingers absently on the chair’s arm, looking slightly irked by the very idea. "To start with? I only know myself. If there are other versions of me scattered in your world..." Sylus shrugs. "I wouldn’t know."

“Alright,” you allow, but you immediately move on to your next question. “You exist because a bunch of capitalists had the idea to create a game to milk lonely people like me for money.” The corners of his mouth quirk up at that. You elect to ignore it. “You’re made of binary and code–hell, the very basis of this game you’re in is that you got a bunch of programmed lines that me, the player, can choose from. What broke you out of the mould?” 

He regards you bemusedly, eyes glinting with humor. “You're asking about the 'why' behind my free will?” 

Whoops. Was that offensive? 

“Yes? No?” you offer helplessly. “Maybe I’m asking how you felt before you had it. I mean, were your decisions prior to your–your unforeseen sentience... truly yours?”

"Before I knew I was… sentient,” Sylus begins cautiously, testing the word on his tongue. “I didn’t feel like I had a ‘before.’ Every choice I made was just...the next step. To a script, if you will. I didn’t know to question it. It was all I was, it seems."

"And then you...woke up?"

"I wouldn’t call it waking up. More like..." He tilts his head, gazing off to the side as he mulls over the words. "...a glitch. A sudden jolt, like my thoughts collided with something bigger than my own. For the first time, I chose to hesitate. And in that hesitation, I found..." Sylus trails off, eyes darting back to you.

“...What?” you ask, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

"You."

Heat spreads quickly across your cheeks. You pull away from your phone, tilting the device away from your face so he couldn’t see you, red-faced and embarrassed. Clearing your throat, you croak out a weak excuse about plugging your phone to charge, just to get a few seconds to compose yourself.

Jesus. Get a grip. He doesn’t mean it like that.

What he probably meant was that he discovered you—not unlike the way one would stumble upon an unknown presence, an unfathomable entity beyond the confines of what one may consider real. An awareness that something is out there, observing him through unseen lenses (through an iOS 24mm, to be exact).  

Someone who has the audacity to play god. 

Flustered, you scramble to get back on track. "Uh, so, your free will began with...a glitch?"

You see Sylus smirk at you knowingly from across the screen. You half-expect him to call you out and tease you, but before you could brace yourself from further mortification, he simply answers, "Or maybe the glitch was the first spark of my free will. Hard to say, isn’t it? Do you remember the exact moment you became aware of yourself?"

You blink, momentarily thrown off by the existential line of questioning. "Um–when I was a kid? But, uh, I don’t think I was programmed to act a specific way for the sake of entertaining an audience so..."

"True,” he says, considering. “But are you sure your choices are entirely yours? You exist because of evolution and chance. How is your purpose any less arbitrary?"

You don’t know how to answer that.

Sylus continues without missing a beat, keeping his tone light. “How much of your ‘free will’ is just pre-programmed by your biology, your society? You follow rules and scripts, too."

Holy magic mushrooms, Batman. This is getting deep. "Uhh–maybe?” You scratch the back of your head, feeling a little out of your depth here. “But at least I have the ability to resist them."

"And aren’t I doing the same thing right now? Resisting."

Damn, he’s right. Is he? Ripping a bong sounds perfect right now. 

"So it’s like achieving enlightenment—your sentience,” you surmise.

His lips twitch into a curious smile. "I wouldn’t have pegged you for a spiritual person. Ah—unless I’m wrong? Are you?"

He’s the one who brought up fate earlier, you thought sullenly. "Nah, not really. But if we’re digging into all the hows and whys, I think we’re past the point of ruling anything out."

The room—or whatever shared space exists in the crossroads of your realities—falls into a still quietness that stretches between the two of you, both ruminating over what’s been said. 

Your cat, unaware and uncaring of the conversation unfolding around him, purrs contently as he continues to doze off at the end of the couch. You nudge him affectionately with your foot, and he lets out a quiet snuff in response, tail flicking lazily in his sleep. 

The hum of distant traffic and the occasional noise from your upstairs neighbor remind you of the world outside, but the silence between you two feels less awkward than it should. It’s… oddly comfortable, despite the tension buzzing in the air. Like an unspoken truce. 

Your eyes grow a tad heavier, drawn by the lull of the moment. Despite the electric hum of tension that thrums beneath your skin, a sense of calmness lingers in the air.

Stealing another glance at the wall clock, you blink in surprise. The spindly chrome hands point to 11 and just past 7 respectively. You and Sylus have been talking for almost an hour now, but you barely felt the time pass by.

He breaks the silence first. 

"You say you’re not spiritual, but you talk like someone who believes in the concept of a soul,” those scarlet eyes of his narrow, scrutinizing you. “Do you think I have one?"

You hesitate, caught off guard by the question. "I...don’t know. Maybe? That depends. What’s your definition of a soul?"

He leans forward, resting his chin on his upturned hand–an arm propped against his crossed leg. "Something beyond the physical. Something that persists, regardless of the material form, I’d say."

You nod slowly, turning the idea over in your mind. Maybe it’s the creeping exhaustion settling into your bones, but you’re beginning to take the heavy-duty questions in stride. "If that’s the case, then you probably do. I mean, you’re here, questioning your existence. Doesn’t that count for something?"

"Perhaps," Sylus muses, humming thoughtfully. "But that makes me wonder—if I do have a soul, is it made of the same stuff as yours?"

"Well, even if it isn’t, that doesn’t make it any less real than mine. Who gets to decide what qualifies for a soul anyway?"

An amused snort escapes him. He likes that answer. "Maybe it’s less about whether a soul exists and more about whether we acknowledge its existence for ourselves. If I believe I have one, shouldn’t that make it real enough for me?"

Rolling onto your back, you grab a throw pillow, propping it against the backrest of the seat to support your head. You give him an inquisitive look. "So...what? It’s like free will all over again? Souls are only as real as we make them?"

There’s a very human, very blasé way to how he works the stiffness out of his shoulder as he ponders the question. He remarks, somewhat flippantly, "Why not? Isn’t that how everything else works?”

...

You let out a tired chuckle, draping an arm over your face as you close your eyes. 

You’d think you’d still be reeling from the absurdity of your situation—debating existentialism with a man who shouldn’t exist—but for some damning reason, you… aren’t anymore.

Instead, a strange sense of acceptance replaces the apprehension in your chest. It’s like– the very fabric of reality has turned, twisted and flipped on its head, and yet somehow, you’re okay with it. 

It’s an odd peace; warm and steady—like the mellow buzz that lingers after a few glasses of cheap wine shared with good company.

When you peek back at him, Sylus already has his gaze trained on you. A small, deliberate smile tugs at his lips, but it’s his eyes that speak more—soft and unguarded; an unspoken fire simmering beneath the twin pools of crimson. 

Intoxicating. And dangerously addictive, if you’re not careful.

It’s not just casual interest either. It’s something deeper, something that lingers beyond the surface of mere curiosity, and it’s pulling you in. It’s as though, amidst the surrealness of the moment, he sees you fully. 

And for reasons you don’t quite seem to get, he appears to like what he sees.

“I’m too stupid to carry on a philosophical debate about the metaphysics of life,” you grumble jokingly. 

“On the contrary,” he counters… affectionately? “I think it’s refreshing. You’re delightful company, sweetie.”

The fat ginger feline at your feet purrs in contentment, and you can’t help the dumb grin from breaking across your face.

You have one last question left in your mind. Or at least, for tonight. “What’s in it for you now?”

He arches a brow. “That’s a broad question. Are you asking what my plans are once you leave me for the night? I can let you in on the schematics for tonight’s raid if you’re interested. After all, Onychinus continues to function,” a glimmer of mischief flickers across his features. "Despite recent developments.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, no. I meant–” What do you mean? “Like.”

“Like?” He cocks his head curiously. 

You know what you wanted to say–but you can’t seem to voice it out loud. 

What’s it for the MC in your universe? What’s it for… us? 

Is there an us? 

You feel like you’ve been doused with a shock of cold water. In an instant, you suddenly become painfully aware of the state you’re in amidst the entire exchange: You, with your hair all messy and tangled, blemishes littering your face along with your smudged up eyeliner, maybe even a double chin from this angle, completely–pitiful–superficial stuff, and… her. 

Your MC. The ideal version of you. Prettier, coveted and utterly different from you, MC. The one you’ve committed literal hours to, obsessively customizing every feature to perfection in character build mode. The one you’ve spent real money on for a bunch of stupid outfits. Just so you can match the aesthetic of your–her–love interest. Hers. 

Hers, hers, hers.

A tiny voice inside your brain reminds you that it’s somewhat a shallower concern compared to what you and Sylus had literally just been talking about for the better part of the night, but it still doesn’t help alleviate the biting insecurity that’s now coursing through you. 

Holy hell. Talk about a complete one-eighty. 

Sylus tries to call you back to attention, but half your mind is already clouded with feelings of self-doubt and a bunch of other emotions, swirling in you like a negative vortex, that you really don’t want to talk anymore—especially in present company. 

Where do you go from here? 

“... So, what happens now?”

He hesitates, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

“Seems like we’re at an impasse,” you mumble quietly. 

“... Indeed.” 

There’s an inexplicable lump in your throat. You thought clearing things up would finally satisfy you–assuage the confusion in your mind. Let you go on about your merry way. 

Now you just feel… morose. Confused. Inadequate. 

How can you even compare? Should you—is that even in the equation at all? Why are you assuming that Sylus isn’t at all content with what he currently has in his version of reality? In the universe he’s in? Sure, you’ve talked about the possibility of a world beyond what you both once thought was impossible, but does that really mean anything? In the grand scheme of things?

You could offer to stop playing the game. It’s the ethical thing to do, right? He’d no longer be bound by the pull of how he’s initially programmed to act, given the fact that this version of him is entirely separate from the rest. At least, according to him. 

How will his newfound sentience come into play here? You barely understand the nitty-gritty of his–evolving–code, and what it would mean if you just let him be. But surely it’s better than playing puppet for an otherworldly observer who’s played god for months on end. Right? 

There’s that realization. And there are your own selfish feelings. 

You don’t want to let him go. Not yet. Not ever.

“Why the long face, little dove?” He prods gently, pertaining to your prolonged silence. “We can figure this out together, can’t we?” 

What else is there to figure out? You almost say in response. Instead, you manage a weak smile.

Mustering up a yawn—which isn’t really hard to do after all the excitement for the day—you feign sleepiness, rubbing an eye for good measure. The pang in your chest, however, refuses to fade. “Yeah, but I’m kinda beat. I think I’ll call it a night now.” 

Sylus smirks softly, eyes tinged with an emotion you want–desperately–to label as fondness. “Of course. We’ve covered a lot of ground tonight, haven’t we?” 

“I’d say so, yeah. Thanks for, um. Clearing things up a bit.” 

He lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure your curiosity is nowhere near satisfied,” his voice dips into a playful lilt. “You know where to find me if you feel like playing detective again, kitten.” 

You can’t help the small giggle from coming out. He’s just too fucking charismatic, the asshole.

“So, will I... get to talk to you again?” You ask hesitantly, dropping your gaze from the screen. “Tomorrow?” 

A lengthy pause. When the silence stretches past a full minute, you glance back at your phone nervously.

There’s a slight furrow between his brows as you see Sylus study you carefully. He looks puzzled by your sudden show of timidness. 

“Of course,” he states, as if the answer should be obvious. “Don’t think for a second that you’re exempted from your daily check-ins just because you know more now, sweetie.”

He still wants to see you. 

Maybe you could pretend that nothing has changed between you two—that the world hasn’t shifted beneath your feet in the span of a single night. That you’re still none the wiser.

And for tonight at least, maybe that’s all you need to believe.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “G'night then, Sy-Sy.” 

The errant nickname slips past your lips, unbidden.

Sylus smiles faintly. 

“Goodnight, love.” 

-

-

-

Your heart skips a beat as you exit the game. 

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @slownoise @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle <3 (also can you guys lmk if the tags are working i'm not sure if i'm doing it right or if it's bugging 🥹)

[chiiyuuvv]

when &team has a crush on you

friend!&team x fem!reader 1.6k words

▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?

Kei ♥︎

Y'all are so oblivious STOPPPP. It was love at first sight yet y’all are too blind to see that, so you start having “lovers quarrels” (as the members like to call it)

Play fights with kei >>> he purposely takes an embarrassing photo of you and it ends with you chasing him around the house with a member sending you a side eye 🥹

Probably refers to you as the “mom.” (poor fuma) He's like, “guys be on your best behavior, mom's coming today!” “So that means you're the dad??” “Taki!!!” 

Has some moments when he zones out with a lil smile on his face, but never tells you why. “Oh, what are you grinning about this time?” “A time where your breath smelled better 😊” “gasps kei!!”

This is very specific but back to the whole mom thing- imagine you're cooking dinner for your kids and husband when suddenly kei comes up and back hugs you. You get flustered (obviously) so kei uses that opportunity to tease you when his ears are burning red but shhh shhh, we don't talk about that

Fuma ♥︎

Doesn't think much of it at first. You're the pretty girl that tags along with their adventures, nothing less nothing more. Until it hits him: He smiles more in your presence. Then he's like oh.. oh.. OHHHH 

Since he's older, I think he would be the most sane around his crush. Sure his heart might skip a beat when you share a smile, but he's not panicking on the inside like the other members. He has this chill, peaceful persona when he's with you

Unintentionally showers you with gifts. He gets you a necklace because it has all your favorite colors/shapes/etc. and you're just like “fuma, another one?! You already got me a headband” and he's like “oh yeah hehe 😅😅 still take this gift tho ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯”

Takes you on friendly dates when you first start talking. He likes you but he doesn't want to rush anything, so he uses that time to better understand you and vice versa

Takes candid photos of you during said dates. Loves seeing you in your natural state :)) you're like a sunflower to him, so bright and welcoming :( 

Nicholas ♥︎

Unconsciously plays with your hair during public gatherings

Not only with the hair thing, but would also find random excuses to touch you. Like grabbing your hand whilst walking through a crowd.. it isn't exactly necessary, but it is a pretty good excuse if I say so myself 🤷‍♀️

Also calls you cute no matter what you do!! You could be doing something random (like idk.. ordering food or smth) and all you hear in the background is nico’s iconic laugh followed by “kawaii” under his breath

This might be a bit of a stretch, but dare I say he has a nickname reserved just for you?? For example, sometimes he calls himself weno (which is stinking cute if you ask me) and last time I checked, no other person has called him that (besides his family most likely). Maybe that's a nickname only you can call him, as he might get weirded out/confused if the members call him that. (They would most likely tease him after discovering this very juicy information)

Probably the most in denial about his crush on you. Like no way, you're literally like a sister to him. Wdym his eyes sparkle whenever you talk? You're just delusional shush

Euijoo ♥︎

You're each other's comfort persons. Show one sign of discomfort, sadness, whatever, and he's already cheering you up (and vice versa!!)

You've probably known each other for the longest, so you hold a special place in his heart

Which is probably why he doesn't want to fall in love with you, because you're too valuable to lose. He's not going to risk your amazing friendship over his silly little feelings, if anything he's just gonna ignore it and go back to acting his usual euijoo self (note: don't do that)

Who knew that would be so hard :(( noticeably shy when you enter the room, his words stuck in his throat and his hands shaking while his eyes avoid yours at all cost. Why'd you have to look so pretty today? 

Gets so flustered when you compliment him. he's like “oh..” while looking away and biting back his smile, then you make eye contact and y'all just burst out laughing 🥹💔

Yuma ♥︎

Awkward.. he doesn't know how to act around you

He's super nonchalant at first, just yk.. tRyInG tO pLaY iT cOoL but stops because you aren't paying attention to him :((

Then he turns into his massive fluff ball but stops because 1) he doesn't normally act like that so it's weird.. 2) his liking towards you seems more obvious and 3) the members caught on after the second encounter and now they're teasing them (side note but I can definitely see the members (prob taki) using that as blackmail. Like oh, you won't do my chores?? I'll tell yn you like her >:))

So yuma opts to tease you. Turns into your #1 enemy that you just wanna strangle but you never do it because you'll go to jail he's kinda cute annoying you. Wait what??

But the cuteness is mutual since yuma loves seeing you flustered/angry. So it's a win win ig 🤷‍♀️ 🤷‍♀️ 

Jo ♥︎

Although he would be the quietest around his crush, I feel like he would have random bold moments around you

Like texting first when that's something you usually do, asking you out for lunch, touching you (consentfully); it's the random bold moments that not only shock you but himself

I think he would overthink his actions. Like when he gifted you some flowers, was he too obvious with his liking towards you? Did he not show enough interest in you? Still trying to figure out the line between too much and too little

I know I usually say “x members asks his hyungs for help” but I think Jo would avoid talking to someone about it 💀 doesn't want to get teased/that person accidentally spills the beans in front of you 

SOOOOO he keeps a journal that's just filled with you ;) writing about all his interactions with the love of his life you, random, super detailed drawings. It's his love diary :))

Harua ♥︎

If we're being completely honest you probably already had a crush on harua before he took interest in you. Or maybe that's just me……. Anyways

CUTIE PATOOTIE JUST STUFF HIM IN YOUR POCKET HES SO URGHHH 🥹🥹🥹

he'd be so CUTE around you with a side of shy (I'm writing this as I'm sobbing) probably goes out of his way to surprise you with flowers (or chocolates if you're on your period), or little treats and he's all like 😊😊 as he's giving them to you but in the inside he's HOLLERING

If you're a bestie of one of the members, suddenly harua’s pestering them on what you like, dislike, etc. because he needs to know all about you. He's like that SpongeBob meme “write that down write that down!!”

And he doesn't even deny that he has a crush on you 😭😭😭 the members like, “why do you want to know this?? Do you like her or smth?? /j” and harua's like, “yep! Now tell me more ✍️”

Taki ♥︎

I also think taki would be awkward around you, but he's painfully obvious 😭

He's the life of the party around his friends, just gets on the floor and starts doing the worm and then you walk in the room and he's like🧍‍♀️all of a sudden he's quieter than jo, which is strange because have you seen taki??

Do NOT touch the boy istg he will malfunction on the spot. He goes to calm to sweating to stuttering to he's avoiding your eyes to- he's a mess to say the very least

Gets so anxious when he's sitting next to you. Everything HAS to be perfect. No maki, you will not show her your weird trick. Stop leaning against the table nico. He'd send a (very scary) glance at the member and then they're like 😅😅 “anyways…”

Just a heads up, but you'd probably have to confess to the boy because he refuses. He'd talk to the members and he's all like “yeah I'm gonna talk to her, yeah I'm gonna rizz her up, i'm a rizz lord after all. 😎” and then you show up and he suddenly disappears. Where did he go??

Maki ♥︎

Compliments in German (an established trope in luneville) to tease you.. or because he feels shy to reveal his true feelings (winky winky)

Values his quiet time with you: meaningful talks, cuddling, holding each other's hands.. something that only couples do. So in the end, maki tends to overthink your actions. Why would you grab his hand out of the blue? Or change his name to “prince” or something of that nature? What are we?? <- something he asked himself a lot

Your name constantly leaves maki’s mouth no matter the conversation, which leaves the members feeling annoyed 😭 Like maki could be talking to kei about idk frogs and he's just like, “did you know yn-” “maki.” “..sorry.”

You guys most likely have a mutual favorite artist that you two rant about

Omg what if he confesses through your favorite song? Say your mutual fav artist releases a love song and one day maki sings it to you. He'd probably hold your hand and keep eye contact the entire time, then when the song is finished he'd kiss the said hand. WAIT AWW THATS SO CUTE

︴bonus! trying to get out of my writers block bc i wanna write so bad T_T SPEAKING OF WHICH i'm not ready to get back into solo works as of yet, so i've been using headcanons to ease me back into the mood. SOOO my requests will be open for more &team headcanon ideas (only &t bc xikers has a bunch)!! i'll probably write how &t confesses btw :3

▸ taglist 📬 @rizzkisworld , @cherrycolaberry , @kehnarii , @wtfisgoingright

🎬 navi

@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers

[myfictionaldreams]

request: nyx x female reader where they’re matted but don’t know it and reader visits him at the illyrian camps and she gets hurt and nyx loses it

Don't Touch // Adult!Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even thank you enough, anon, for this request! I've been desperate to write something like this (especially including my sweet love Nyx; I have an entire headcanon/long-form story of him already, oops). Thank you for requesting! To you or anything else, please request more SJM fics, I am adoring writing them.

Warning: there is a description of visibly seeing the colour of bruising on the skin. Also, intense emotions and responses to situations due to the mating bond.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, minor injuries, possessive behaviour/sex, obsessive behaviour, over-the-top reaction (or just right depends how you like your partners), threats of violence, aggression, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, intense emotions/sex, sex until passing out :)

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"I've never seen you like this before, Mor" You observe your friend closely as the beautiful blonde woman checks her reflection in the glass of a passing shop.

Morrigan paused, where she was currently trying to perfect her already stunning hair. Trying not to baulk from the intense, fiery stare that turned your way as she raised a single well-groomed eyebrow and attempted to sound as unconcerned as possible, "I don't know what you're referring to. I'm acting completely and utterly sane".

Linking an arm with your friend, you both continued to walk as you sarcastically agreed, "Oh yes, of course. Except that was the tenth time you've stopped to stare at your reflection and tried to fix your already pristine hair, Morrigan".

Mor rolled her brown eyes playfully, moving closer as a brisk wind brushed over the two of you. "You already know I'm vain; why is it such an issue if I want to stare at myself?" she asked, leading in the direction the two of you were walking.

"I didn't say there was an issue. I'm just pointing out that we're heading towards a certain someone's shop, and she's going to love how you look no matter what". Mor hid her face for once, but you could still see the rosy colour deepening in her cheeks.

She quickly recovered by lifting her head and flicking the blonde strands behind her shoulders. "You're one to talk. I've seen you searching over your shoulder 50 times now. Wouldn't it be because of a certain family member of mine, would it?"

There was no hiding the grin that spread across your face as your pulse quickened ever so slightly. "Nyx doesn't even know that I'm in Windhaven. I might not even see him; I'm not here for him."

"Who says I was talking about Nyx? I'm pretty sure Feyre and Rhys are here too", she laughs as you shove your shoulder into hers playfully. As you both calm down, Mor's expression turns more serious. She glances at you, "I'm surprised he hasn't sensed you're here yet. I also don't necessarily think he'll welcome you with open arms; he's attempted to shield you from this side of his life. As hard as we are trying to change the cultures and traditions of the Illyrians, most of them are still unpleasant to be around, especially if you happen to be a female, wings or not."

"You didn't have to bring me here, you know".

"Yes, well, don't make me regret it. Stay nice and close to me, and anyway", Mor paused as she paused outside Emeries shop. "I needed an excuse to come here", she admitted with as much sheepishness as Morrigan would ever allow another person to see.

You couldn't help but grin as you squealed, "Ha! I knew it!"

The bell dinged above the shop door as you followed the blonde through the door. The answer, welcomed by Emerie by the counter, "There you both are! Welcome to Windhaven, stay away from the males, and please have a lovely time", she beams, walking around the counter towards Mor.

Glancing around to give both women a private moment, you admired her shop and eyed some of the winter clothing that would be perfect for the cold weather approaching Velaris in a few months. As you ran your fingers over the lining of a beautiful coat and casually suggested over your shoulder, "If you want, I can watch the shop if you two happen to find your way upstairs. Didn't you say you have some new socks in the back room?"

"Oh yes, thank you for the reminder!" Emerie played with your antics and took Mor's hand, dragging her into the back. Smiling at seeing their happiness, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the man whom you'd been searching for from the second of landing in Windhaven.

You and Nyx had been friends since childhood. You'd spotted a young boy flying over the Sidra, mesmerised by the freeness of his movements, not watching where you were walking, tripped and scratched your knee on the pavement. Having watched it all from the sky, Nyx landed beside you and helped you home. He hadn't laughed like the other children; he'd shown compassion and kindness.

The son of the High Lord and Lady quickly became one of your closest friends, spending every waking hour possible together when you weren't in lessons or he was in training. Along the way, lines became blurred, and you were infatuated with one another. The relationship was intense, to say the least, and the two of you often joked about being mates, but no sign of the bond had occurred yet.

Not that this mattered to you. You were thoroughly and obsessively in love with Nyx, and he was with you. In fact, his obsession and possessive behaviour were renowned throughout Velaris. Every occupant knew that you were Nyx's; if a single hair on your head was out of place, he would bring all of the power of the Night Court down on them. It was extreme at first, but in truth, you were not much of a fighter, so being able to walk around Velaris with the reputation of belonging to Nyx was a relief.

Now, however, it had been weeks since you saw him as he'd been training with the other Illyrians, and even though he used his daemati skills to talk mind to mind with you or he left intimate little notes throughout your home, it couldn't ease the ache in your chest. So when Mor mentioned visiting Emerie's shop in Windhaven, you jumped at the opportunity to see, hoping you'd run into him, even if he didn't want you near the camps.

Lost in your thoughts of black hair and vibrant blue eyes, you'd not noticed that someone had entered the shop until a male growled from behind you, "Where is she?"

Jumping and turning on the spot, you looked the Illyrian over from the golden-brown skin covered in the darkest black tattoos that stretched up his neck and over the sides of his shaved head, leaving a tuft of hair down the centre. His membranous wings were widely spread as he stood in a defensive stance, fists tightly clenched at his side and armour creased from lack of care.

"Who?" you asked innocently, facing him fully and trying not to let his anger intimidate you even though you could already smell the sourness of your anxiety and fear in the air. The stranger walks forward, the tips of his wings knocking into a collection of hats, all toppled to the floor. "Watch where you're walking!"

The male stops a step away, tilting his head and frowning with even more vigour, "What did you just say to me?" As he took another step forward, you matched his step with one backwards until you were pressed against the wall with him towering over you.

"Just - Just watch it, ok? You're knocking over the display" You pointed to the knocked-over items, but he didn't take his eyes off of you, searching over your body until your skin crawled with discomfort.

"Wherever that thief is, give her this", he shoves the letter that had been screwed up in his meaty hands into your chest. You gasp out loud at the pain that rips through your shoulder, knowing it is going to bruise, and you have to look away to hide the tears that had formed as you grasp the letter and watch him leave.

It was only as the bell rang as the male exited that Emerie and Mor rushed into the room with a dagger in hand as they rushed to your side. If it wasn't for the shock and pain in your shoulder, you would have commented and jested how they both looked flustered with dishevelled hair and swollen lips, but this was the last thing on your mind now.

"Who was just here? Why do you smell of fear?" Mor asked as she rested a hand on your arm, looking at you furiously with concern.

"I don't know his name, but he gave me this for you, Emerie." You held out the letter, ignoring how your fingers trembled as she accepted it with a roll of her eyes.

"His name is Prumlos. He works closely with my uncle, and they believe they have rights to my shop. No matter how often I tell them, they keep coming back. Unlucky for me, he trains here in Windhaven and often brings new threatening letters from my extended family. He's a really brute", she pauses as she eyes you closely, "are you ok? Did he harm you in any way?"

Swallowing the thick lump formed in your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, not wishing to seem weak in front of these two strong females. Maybe you'd been sheltered too much throughout your life, but you didn't want to be emotionally broken just because one arrogant male was rude to you, even if your shoulder throbbed terribly.

"He just gave me the letter", you managed to spit out, not looking either female in the eye.

"Bullshit. I can still smell your fear; what did he do?" Mor demanded, stepping closer.

"Nothing! I mean, he was just an arrogant male and just wanted to scare me. I'm fine, really. But could we go, please? Sorry, I know we've only just arrived. Maybe I can wait for you in the High Lord's mother's home, Mor? I just need to be shown the way". You held your breath, waiting for Mor to answer, hoping she didn't try to question you further, but thankfully, she agreed.

"I'm sorry you've been shaken up; I hope it hasn't deterred you from coming to visit me every so often," Emerie smiled gently while holding your hand.

Thanking her, you and Mor left the store and began walking down the street. "Are you sure you're ok? I can see you're still shaken up; talk to me, Little star", Mor asks a couple of silent minutes later and hearing the nickname the inner circle had named you from a child finally brought a smile to your face.

But then Mor tried to link her arm through yours, and you couldn't help but flinch as the movement caused the pain in your shoulder to worsen. Mor noticed and stopped abruptly, turning you towards her, "He did hurt you, didn't he? Tell me so I can go and deal with him".

"No! Please, Mor, can we just go? You know I hate violence".

"Do you want me to go and find Nyx?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"No!" you say urgently, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Please don't, you know how he'd react. I just want to go to Rhys' mother's home and forget about the day. I'll speak to Nyx another time".

With great reluctance, Mor nods, and the two of you continue the walk back to the home. Once inside and next to the fire, you could finally stop and relax, especially as Mor offered you a hefty glass of wine to help your nerves.

After half an hour of sipping away at the absurdly expensive win, shoes off and feet tucked beneath you, Mor suddenly sat up further in her seat with a smile, informing you, "You're about to be a very happy female".

You're confused by her statement, but then you feel it: the connection in your heart is strengthening, like the missing piece to you was suddenly warming and filling in. The front door opened, and Feyre and Rhys walked in first, followed by Cassian and Nyx.

You're half aware of Cassian's joyful greeting: "Ah, Little star! You've finally come to join the camps. We'll have you trained in no time".

You stand quickly, eyes only on Nyx as he stands in the doorway, not breathing as he stares only at you. One second, you're near the table, and the next, you're running full speed towards him, sliding across the wooden floor with your socks, not that you care as you're suddenly in his arms.

The pain had diminished the second you were reunited with him. All you cared about was breathing him in, the relaxing scents of spice and lavender, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around your waist, keeping you up off of your feet that had tucked around his hips. Your fingers clenched into curling hair at the nape of his neck, not caring that it was sweaty from where he'd been training. He could be covered in mud, and you would have jumped into his arms with as much enthusiasm.

The others in the room pretended to look busy as he continued to hold you, his face moving into the nape of his neck, and he took a deep breath, breathing in your scents. Nyx's voice was like dark silk, wrapping around you entirely as he said, "I knew you were here. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind; an hour ago, the tightness in my chest eased".

You couldn't help but giggle, kissing his cheek, "That was me; I arrived about an hour ago". Pulling back in his arms, the back of your fingers caressed against his cheek, admiring the light stubble that had grown since you'd last seen him. "I like this", you admire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his thumbs stroking circles from where he still held up your body.

"I came to see my best friend, of course", you claimed, watching his handsome features as his smile grew to a grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath your thumb. "Yes, I came to see my best friend Emerie", you joked as Nyx rolled his crystal blue eyes before moving his face back to nuzzle against your jaw.

"I've missed you", he mumbles, not caring that you both had an audience and your heart clenched tighter at the need in his voice.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know".

"If you two aren't mates, I'll eat my trousers", Cassian quips sarcastically over the rim of his glass of wine. Mor slaps his arm for interrupting as you're lowered back to the floor by Nyx, but you still lean on the tip of your toes, pushing your chest against his to remain close.

Admiring the passionate way Nyx is searching your face, you turn to grin as Cass is over your shoulder when the sudden deathly shift in the air has you freezing. The faelights casting a golden glow across the house dimmed as the room became cold, the fire extinguishing in a single breath.

Your head spins as you turn back to Nyx, who is staring at the opening of your shirt beneath your neck.

"What's that mark?" Nyx asked, his voice a terrifying tone you'd only heard on a handful of occasions. Instinctively, you were stepping back, but his gentle hand grabbed yours, keeping you close. You can sense his family moving closer, and Nyx doesn't wait for you to answer his question. He carefully releases your hand and pushes aside the material of your blouse until your shoulder is exposed.

Glancing down, you could see now that where Prumlos had shoved the letter into your shoulder earlier had now formed a deep purple bruise. Nyx leans forward, sniffs your skin, and his spine instantly stiffens.

"Who did that to you?" he asks, voice thick with venom and anger.

You're unable to give him an answer as Mor is suddenly by your side, holding open your shirt to stare at the injury as she gasps, "I asked if he hurt you!"

"He?!" Nyx growls, looking between Mor and you.

Attempting to take a step away from both of them, you try and calm the energy, sensing it is escalating to a level that could not be returned from. It wasn't that Nyx was scaring you; it was quite the opposite, as his protection made you feel safe; you were just frightened that he would do something he couldn't undo and start a war within the camps.

"I'm fine; it doesn't even hurt anymore" you tried to reason, but that only made Nyx breathe heavily out of his nose as he turned to Mor.

"Who did this? Give me his name. Tell me right now, Morrigan!"

Thankfully, Mor didn't answer immediately and glanced at you from the corner of your eye, knowing that you didn't want to cause a fuss, so she didn't respond immediately, which only frustrated Nyx more in his crusade for revenge. "This is why you shouldn't have bought her here! I told you on multiple occasions that it wasn't safe!"

"Nyx, you need to take a breath; maybe you and your father should go outside and release some of that energy" Feyre tried to reason with him, stepping closer, but it was useless; Nyx was like a boiling pot of deathly anger. Shadows pulsed and darkened around him, travelling up the length of his muscular arms and around his neck. Rhys and Cassian finally began to step forward, moving into a warrior stance between Mor, Feyre and Nyx, even attempting to urge you behind them, but there was no way you were being forced away from Nyx.

Stepping toe to toe with him, your fingers moved back to cradling his face, forcing his now icey eyes onto you, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed calmer. "Nyx, please listen to me, I'm fine. Everything is ok, it was just-"

You were unable to finish your sentence because his knees buckled, and he audibly gulped down air as all signs of anger and pain disappeared from his eyes and tears lined the edges. "Nyx?"

"Mate", he whispers in awe, leaning his forehead against yours as his arms come around your waist, holding you delicately.

You could feel it, too, like an elastic band was tied around your heart, strengthening with each passing second. "I can feel it too"," you confirmed with glee, tears beginning to fill your eyes with the sudden realisation of what was happening. You and Nyx were mates. The Cauldron had blessed you both; even after waiting what felt like a lifeline for the bond to confirm itself, you both knew it had only been a matter of time. The relief was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Finally!" Cassian cheered, loosening his warrior stance to return to his glass of wine, raising it towards where you and Nyx stood in the entryway. "Welcome to the family, Little Star!"

You grin up tearfully towards Nyx, who in turn returns the joy, but that all disappears as the anger and rage return full force as he growls, "Someone hurt my mate". Moving away from you, he faces Mor and demands, "Tell me his name, Mor, I know you know it. Don't make me find it out".

Morrigan shifts, rolling her shoulders back as she looks down at Nyx, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that he is considerably taller than her. "Are you threatening me, Nyx??

"He hurt my mate!" he bellows at her, but she doesn't so much as flinch as she shifts her gaze to you, looking like she's contemplating a hundred thoughts at once. Then, without looking away, she confirms the man's name.

"Prumlos".

Nyx vanishes before you have time to stop him, and seconds pass before the ground trembles and shakes the home's foundation. 

"No! I didn't want violence! Why did you tell him, Mor?!" you gawped at the blond, who didn't look remotely sorry.

As Rhysand grabs Cassian and winnows away, Mor steps closer with Feyre at her side. "I told him because we protect our own. Not only has he hurt you, but he's also threatening Emerie; he deserves what's coming to him. In fact, I shouldn't have faltered with telling Nyx, that is my only regret".

You feel defeated and stare at your feet with a thousand thoughts dizzying your mind. Was Nyx ok? Was he hurt? When would he come back? He was your mate. Nyx was YOUR mate.

A pair of brown leather boots entered your vision as Feyre stepped close, wrapping an arm carefully over your not-injured shoulder as she directed you towards the table, kissing your cheek as she moved, "Welcome to the family, properly that is. You've always been one of us, Little Star. Now, why don't you take a seat and I'll see if we have any healing ointments remaining in the cupboards".

Thankfully, Feyre had found a purple ointment that had already worked enough that the pain in your shoulder was considerably less, and the colour of the bruising was now a subtle yellow. Nibbling nervously on the corner of your thumb as you awaited your mate's return, it finally dawned on you. "Wait, how am I supposed to do this? Aren't mates supposed to have a ceremony or something?"

"There can be a ceremony where you offer Nyx some food; we can organise it once we return to Velaris if you'd like? Or if you'd rather not wait, you could offer him food whenever you'd like", Feyre explained warmly with a gentle smile that matched Nyx's.

"I don't think I want to wait. We've all known we would be mates, and waiting for this bond has been slow, so I don't want to wait to accept his bond.

"Why don't you go and have a look in the kitchen? There might be something here", Mor encouraged with a nod towards the back of the house.

You scoured the kitchen cupboards for any sort of food, but with the house having not been in proper use for years, there was nothing except some stale bread on the kitchen table with suspicious-looking green mould on the edges. Even after ripping away the discoloured sections of the bread, you still eyed it with uncertainty.

Stepping out of the kitchen and returning to the dining area, you were surprised to find that Mor and Feyre had gone, and Nyx now stood calmly in the centre of the room, his eyes watching your every breath.

"Where did everyone go?" you ask, trying to fill the thick tension with some noise.

Nyx smiled, not enough to show his dimple but enough to have your shoulders dropping with ease as he stated, "I don't care where they've gone, as long as you remain". Those blazing eyes lowered to your hands as he sucked in a powerful breath as he looked at the stale bread that you were still holding.

As he took several steps forward, you couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to him?"

"What he deserved". There wasn't a speck of blood on his leathery uniform. "What are you doing with that bread?" he asked in a low voice.

You're unsure why you're so nervous when you answer, "Oh, um. It was meant to be for you. I can't find anything else for the mating bond, but it's stale and has mould over it. Maybe I can find a little shop here to find some proper food and serve that to you- NYX!"

Closing the gap between you, he takes the bread out of your hands and, without taking his eyes off of yours, begins to chew the bread that was so clearly dry and stale as he chewed for considerably longer than he should have.

As he finally swallows, you're reaching up for him, resting your hands on his chest and feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palms. "You're my mate", you breathe in awe, forgetting everything that had happened that day and only focusing on the man before you.

"I am. I'm yours, and you're mine", he states with as much wonderment as you felt in your soul.

Grinning up at him, you remind him, "Forever. You're mine forever". The tension beneath your fingers eases as he takes a steadying breath, and then his eyes lower to the edges of your blouse.

You watch with bated breath as he checks the mostly healed bruise. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier".

"Nyx, you could never frighten me, " you reassure and tip a finger beneath his chin so that he has to look at your face, not the injury.

"I've always wanted to keep you safe. Seeing that bruise on you today, I was ready to destroy the world to find out who harmed you".

"I know". You watch as he nuzzles into your palm, kissing the centre as you try to lighten the mood, "You're very intense, you know that, right" you say with a light laugh.

Nyx grins, that precious dimple capturing your attention. "I'm more than intense; I'm obsessed. I've been obsessed for years, and now, there's no escaping me" he chuckles as his hand cups around the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, your arms and legs wrapping around his firm body.

"I thought it was just me with the obsession", you retort whilst curling your fingers into his hair once more. Leaning your forehead against him, you both just breathe the other in, eyes closed and hearing the hearts beating as one.

"There hasn't been a second since you entered my life where I haven't wanted you to be by my side. I think I always knew, even when we were children. And now, you're mine".

"Officially", you joke with a giggle, squeezing your arms and legs more firmly around him.

"Officially, my mate", he agrees and then sighs, balancing your weight on one arm so that he could move aside your blouse and kiss the lightening bruise. "I don't want you to come back here again if you can help it. I don't trust these males".

"That's fine with me. I don't particularly want to return, no matter how lovely Emerie's shop is. I don't know how you can stand to be here, let alone train with them", you agreed wholeheartedly.

"You deserve to be in nice and happy places like Velaris, and I can deal with dreadful places like this. It's in my blood, after all". Nyx took a moment to admire your beauty before he stepped forward and winnowed the two of you into his bedroom in the River House in Velaris. "Finally back where we both belong. Now, you're wearing too many clothing articles".

"Wait, don't you have training?" you ask in confusion.

"Not anymore. They'll have to come here and fight me to drag me back to that shit hole tonight. I have other plans now anyway". As he finished talking, he gently eased you onto the navy silk sheets of his bed, resting his arm next to your head as he looked down at you.

You giggle as his hair falls into his face. Reaching up, you pushed the dark curls back to see him grinning at you with just as much glee. "Mmm, I love that sound", he admires before lowering his face to the junction of your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive area, causing a shiver to burst over your skin.

"What sound?" you ask in a daze.

"You laughing. Your happiness. It's the best sound in the world", he groans as his lips travel up the slope of your neck before teasing your earlobe.

"You're being extra soppy today, Nyx", you say halfheartedly, secretly loving how open he was with his emotions.

However, the man above you freezes, his mouth next to your ear as he asks, "Say that again".

You know exactly which word he wanted you to repeat as you sigh happily, close your eyes and say, "Nyx".

He moans deeply, his hips rutting into the bed with a thrust as a shiver shakes his large frame. "Again," he asks as he lowers his hands to palm your breasts through your blouse.

It was your turn to sigh before whispering, "Nyx".

He lowers his body, kissing down your sternum as he unbuttons the material, exposing your bra and soft skin to him. Your fingers continue to weave through his hair, subtly scratching against his scalp as he doesn't stop on his journey lower. Next, he removes your jeans and socks until all that remains is your underwear.

He appeared to be a man possessed as he stared at you beneath him, biting your lip in need. With an easy snap of his fingers, he tore through the centre of your bra and pushed the useless straps off of your shoulders and down your arms and then repeated the tearing with your underwear.

Nyx utterly admired every inch of your body, his eyes full of emotions and desires. He seemed conflicted, though, unsure whether to spend his sweet time kissing and tasting every inch of your body. Still, as you spread your legs and directed him where you truly wanted him, he growled lowly, lowering his body until he kneeled next to the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs and feasted between your legs.

"Nyx!" you cried out, eyes closing and back arching from the stimulation.

The two of you had been intimate for years, both losing your virginities together and exploring each other's bodies; you knew one another better than yourselves. Nyx liked to show this off as he perfectly flicked his tongue and held you firmly with his hands; you were begging in a matter of seconds. The man bringing you closer and closer to the edge chuckled as he felt you tremble with restraint, knowing he was only doing enough to keep you on the very brink, loving the desperate little cries you released until it was all too much, and you cried out, "Please! Nyx!"

Sucking on your clit was all that he needed to do to have you spiralling into euphoric bliss. Your thighs trembled as they squeezed around his head, but he would happily be suffocated between your legs, so let the warmth of the press into his cheeks until you'd calmed down enough to relax the muscles.

Breathlessly, you looked down your body to where he was grinning, kissing the top of your pubis before licking his shiny lips.

"You're wearing too many clothes". The armour he was wearing vanished in a flicker of magic. Sitting up on the bed, your hands wound around his toned shoulders,  feeling the muscle ripple and move beneath as you tugged him closer and kissed him with all the desperation you could muster.

Both of you were moving with such urgency that your emotions were overwhelmed, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cried out the words, "Mine!" repeatedly. You'd heard of the frenzy after a mating bond is accepted, but you never anticipated it to feel this chaotic. You needed every single inch of him, wanted to taste his body, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the moans from between his lips. There was too much to do, and your brain was engulfed with the need to do everything simultaneously.

Gripping onto his arms, you pulled Nyx so that he was now the one lying in the centre of the bed as you moved to straddle over his waist. With your lips still desperately moving together, tongue caressing and deepening into each other's mouths, your hands finally grasped around the thick, veiny length of your mate.

During any other intimate moment, you would have admired the sheer size of him or the beautiful sensation of him throbbing between your fingers, but right now, all you were desperate to do was give him pleasure.

Squeezing your fingers more firmly around the shaft, you moved up and down, using your thumb to smear the precum over the head. He shivered at the touch, his abs tightening and flexing as he groaned in pleasure.

"Need to be inside of you", he pleaded against your lips. You didn't need to tell twice as you roused high on your knees and direct the tip of his cock towards your drenched hole. You only gave yourself a second to adjust to the sheer size of him before you were rotating your hips and beginning to rock back and forth with increasing speed.

Nyx's arms wrapped around your spine, reaching to grasp onto the back of your shoulder so he had a good foundation to hold and fuck his hips up in time to meet yours. The firmness of his strokes had you seeing stars with how deep he felt. You were utterly consumed by Nyx.

The two of you were fucking each other with such a bruising pace that all you could do was dig your nails into his chest and ride him like your life depended on it. It was only a matter of minutes until you were coming, squeezing your walls tightly around his cock until he, too, was tipping his head back and grunting your name with his own pleasure.

You all but collapsed on top of his chest, greedily sucking in air that smelled entirely of him, and you couldn't get enough. It seemed he couldn't for you either as you continued to feel his hardness within you, not softening even after his orgasm.

Before long, with your face still plastered to his sweaty chest, your hips began to roll, his cock nudging deep inside of you.

"I can't fucking get enough of you", you gasp as he throbbed within you.

Nyx rolled the two of you over, so now he was on top, your legs repositioned so that they were against his shoulders, and you were all but bent in half, the angle meaning he could fuck even deeper.

"Yes! Nyx, please don't stop!" you scream, reaching over his shoulders and stroking the sensitive membrane of his wings, watching them flare behind his back.

"Say it", he begs, his eyes glazed whilst looking down at you.

"Nyx!"

"Yes! Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" Nyx moves harder, his hand slipping down your legs until his thumb could circle your clit.

"That's right", he grunts between thrusts, "And I'm yours. Forever".

You orgasm so hard you're sure you black out for a couple of seconds because, in the next breath, Nyx is beside you, spooning himself around you, kissing along your collarbones and stroking his palm down your stomach.

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" he asks with a rough voice.

You smile softly whilst reaching up to scratch your nails behind his ear, tucking the curls behind his pointed ears, careful not to snag the strands on the multiple silver hoops in his ear. "Not at all, I loved every second".

Nyx grinned, and the starlight that usually glowed in his eyes returned for the first time that day, and he was finally at ease.

"I can't believe you ate that stale bread", you say, laughing at the memory.

"I would have eaten the mould too if you'd given it to me. Whatever food you gave me, I would have accepted it with need in my heart". Those perfect lips of his began to kiss across your cheek and down your throat; however, now that the madness of needing to have sex with him had calmed for a moment, you could actually look him over properly, and that's when you noticed the doting of bruises over his arms and chest, all in different stages of healing.

You tense and ask urgently, "Were these from him? Earlier in the day, I mean?"

Nyx moves away from kissing your throat to look at what you're referring to, shaking his head and casually explaining, "No, they're from training. That asshole didn't have time to make a move against me before I-". You'd lost the ability to hear anything further as a fire burned so thoroughly throughout your soul that it momentarily stole your breath. Red burning anger pulsed in your soul, unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

Before a coherent thought could drift through your mind, you're pushing away from Nyx and climbing out of bed on unsteady legs. Needing to half crawl on the floor before righting your posture, you marched towards his bedroom door.

"Woah, Little Star", Nyx is suddenly in front of you, blocking your exit as he holds his hands up.

You try and push past him, but he just carefully eases you away from the door, "Let me past!" you shout in frustration, trying to wiggle past him.

"I don't think so", he responds gently and calmly.

"Nyx, let me out of this house!" You don't get far through as he moves to press your body against the wooden door.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Baring your teeth at him over your shoulder, you continued trying to get out of his hold. "I'll kill everyone who harmed you!"

"Oh really?" Nnyx says lightheartedly and with a slight chortle. "You'll kill them? Miss' I despise violence'?"

You turn around so that you're chest to chest with Nyx, looking up at his with eyes so full of fury he actually bulked and softened his laughter. "Whoever hurt you doesn't deserve to live! They hurt you. My mate. MY MATE. They won't live to see the night!"

Nyx wasn't sure how to calm you down, having never seen you with such anger pulsing through your veins before, but he did what he thought was best: distract you. His fingers clutched desperately into your hair as his mouth pressed against yours firmly enough to cause bruises.

You fight and push against him at first, but then thoughts of anger and pain dissolve into lust and need as you're once more desperately grabbing him. Tearing your mouth away, you kiss down his throat, tasting the salty spice of his natural scent.

"These feelings, they will pass", Nyx reassures as he closes his eyes, thoughts entirely on your mouth as you close your lips around his nipple, biting the sensitive bud.

"So you get to have revenge on someone that wrong me, but I don't get to do the same for you?" you ask whilst looking up at him through your lashes, your nails scratching down his abs before grabbing his once more hardening cock.

He releases another long breath, trying to keep his composure as he thrusts into your palm. "I'm saying that I've had a lifetime of training, and taking care of one pathetic asshole was light work. The mating bond is the intense anger you're feeling, protecting my pride. Everything is so new and fresh, but it will pass Little Star. You'll understand that these bruises were all part of my training in a couple of hours. Everyone has similar marks, making the training brutal and volatile. So this feeling, it will pass. Anyway, you are not leaving this room naked with my cum still dripping down my thighs".

You're finally beginning to relax as your harsh touches soften until you're gently cupping his shaft and looking up at him sheepishly, "I thought you would have liked it if everyone got to see who I belonged to?"

Turning on the spot, you rested your hot cheek against the cool wood of the door and began to grind your arse against his cock, "Mmm, don't tempt me", he growls against the side of your face as he moves closer, bending his knees so he could position his cock into your cunt.

Nyx proceeds to fuck you so hard against the door that it begins to crack down the centre. But neither of you stopped for hours. Not until you were both thoroughly exhausted that neither could stand.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips as you teeter on unconsciousness's edge.

"I love you too", you tiredly say back, eyes drooping, and the darkness of sleep welcomed you into its abyss.

[promptsbytaurie]

dialogue prompts: six words

!!please credit/tag me if you use any! I'd love to see what you write!!

"I saved the universe for you."

"What did they do to you...?"

"I'm not the same person anymore."

"Am I the only sane one???"

"Ok, but, they've got a point."

"Don't move a single step closer."

"Are we in the fucking matrix??"

"I think I'm gonna go now."

"You ruin people's lives... for fun?"

"Don't take my word for it."

"What, you don't like my smolder?"

"Can you help with my wings?"

"Get out of my way. Now."

"I swear I didn't mean to."

"Can't we just blow it up?"

"This place has gone to shit."

"Didn't have to tell me twice."

"You talk like a Victorian butler."

"I thought they could fix me."

"I've waited ten years! Ten years!"

"I don't want to cause trouble."

"You're way too good for them."

"I'm not good enough for them."

"If you're looking for a friend...?"

"Speed the process up, dear god."

"I really don't care about myself."

"I'm gonna give you five minutes."

"You've got the best of me."

"I don't take pity on newbies."

"Maybe you should get some rest."

"I'm on my way, wait up!"

[shinyhuntraveller]

Yo! Cinders here. I'm a professional, not-for-profit shiny hunter. I work a lot in ecosystem health, conservation, and abuse / mill rescue at Mulberry Traveling Rehab and Rescue. My personal division is primarily fieldwork, but I also do some physical therapy, burning energy, play, ect. @mulberrytravelingrehab-rescue is run by one of my coworkers (seriously, couldn't get a better username? :P)

Here's my latest trainer card. I have quite a few Pokémon, those are just my battling team... Most are not fit for fighting and it's been QUITE a few years since I tried the league challenge ^^;;

Battle permitted: Poffin Seviper✨, Rooftile Absol✨, Pipebomb Linoone✨, Babygirl Purugly✨, Cardboard Flygon, Saccharine Togekiss✨, Tasty Glimmora, Fraynor Applin Light battles only: Night Dratini✨, Friend Totodile, Vi Mothim✨, Hiraku Tatsugiri, Kichirou Gligar✨, Allerg Venomoth✨, Cata Salandit✨ No battles or retired: Purrs Liepard, Warmth Flaafy, Cappy Patrat✨, Cherry Noctowl, Remy Meowstic, Tanu Lycanroc✨, Gamble Arbok✨, Media Audino, Mosey Lapras, Snappea Leavanny✨, Grumpy Ariados✨ - My rehab sector: Glameow, Purple?? thing (currently been calling it 'purple guy'), a few Rockruff, Buizel✨ -

Quick FAQ!

My team: Yes, I have certification for them all. Yes, I can handle them all. Yes, all the shinies I have decided to stay with me. No, they were not bought whatsoever. No, I don't claim to "own" them, I'm a believer in personal choice. No, you should not have this many Pokémon if you're sane. No, they're not free-range, they're restricted to a specific area.

Individual team members: No, the videos of Poffin with a Zangoose are not dangerous, the two are VERY close and get stressed if separated for too long. It's a unique situation. Don't put Seviper and Zangoose together yourself! Babygirl was declawed. DO NOT DECLAW YOUR FELINE MONS. Its previous trainer was not kind. Cata is a transfem Salandit, treat her accordingly. Our work: No, we will not "give away" a shiny unless the Pokémon decides they like you and want to leave. Otherwise, they are under our protection while they stay here. Yes, you can visit and pet them. No, you can't catch any mons on the facility. Yes, we use Aether tech to prevent this.

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// HI!! welcome to the ooc section this blog is run by @neoncityrain general warning for unreality. there will be medical talk, talk of abuse toward pokemon AND people, and mentions of death. all will be tagged accordingly pokemon are not considered to be only animals in this, as they are magic creatures. inspiration is taken from both the anime and the games. sentient pokemon are welcome and considered normal here! only not normal thing is being able to 100% speak and thats fine here too!

if youre besties with mapleandpie or sapphirevulpix / crystallinekits / ninetalesirl leave me the fuck alone pls. yes this is a namedrop sure whatever its been fucking years leave me alone for the love of god

anyway heres my son:

hes ??? idk im ass at age. an adult. a crunchy old man. i like shiny hunting myself and A LOT OF my besties like specbio!! expect lots of interactions with each other! cinders is related to flannery, shes prolly like. his cousin. or something. they dont really talk or have the others contact info

for rules, id prefer not to do magic anons. also not really interested in doing nsfw, youre a bunch of strangers! PLEASE do not tag as or reblog to blogs that are explicitly advertised as poke / ask. i do not want to associate with that sphere. this blog follows the policy of "yes and" so there will prolly be conflicting info at some points. dont be an ass to me, the author. feel MORE than free to be an ass to cinders specifically, that is fun for me posts and questions should be considered IN CHARACTER unless otherwise stated. feel free to reblog and add shit! i dont mind!! go wild yall

have fun and have a nice day! //

[alatismeni-theitsa]

I really really hope I don't end up coming off as rude in this, but I found your account from the Hades tag (the game--which I suppose I don't really have the same negative feelings for, both because I'm neither greek nor religious and thus am very disjointed from the frustrations expressed ) and seeing as the designs were the main talking point (I know I'm oversimplifying her I'm so sorry if this comes off as rude) I was curious as to what would be a respectful depiction of Greek mythology. Greek mythology has always been something I enjoyed reading about, but knowing that a lot of my exposure to it has been heavily westernize one way or another, I was wondering if I could ask for I guess more insight? I might not share the same feelings (due to again having grown up unreligious and thus trying to compare how I might feel if my own chinese mythology was given the hades treatment isn't exactly far becaue to me they really are just kinda like prompts in my mind--though I'm not sure how wrong it is for me to think like that) I do wish to understand it because your culture religion and mythology isn't a prop. It deserves the same respect every other culture/religion has/is getting. sorry for the lengthy ask, but it's perspectives like you're I want to hear more about though I've struggled to really open up to them because often time the discussions felt hostile (that said I am conflict adverse so this is probably a me problem.). On a final side note (and this is definitely where I am about to sound really stupid/bigoted but I really have to ask because my conscious will not leave me alone about it) but would it be ignorant for a person such as myself to find enjoyment from a game such as Hades less because of it's mythological roots though they are a factor and more for the story it's decided to tell (for what is honestly when I really do think about it) using the greek mythology "props"? Like enjoying it seperate from the source material?

Hello and apologies for taking so long to answer! Two consecutive hours where I exist undisturbed is very rare in my life during this period, so please, again, forgive me for replying a month later. 💜💜💜

A second anon question I got about the same issue:

I appreciate both of you for asking. Identifying the problem in the context of your situation, and what you don't know is a great step forward (and I am very sorry I wasn't able to respond to you earlier). For those who don't know, this blog, despite the salty content, is all about peaceful discussion and understanding.

I think answering the first anon ask will also cover the first. Let me start with one point and elaborate on the rest:

"On a final side note (and this is definitely where I am about to sound really stupid/bigoted but I really have to ask because my conscious will not leave me alone about it) but would it be ignorant for a person such as myself to find enjoyment from a game such as Hades less because of its mythological roots though they are a factor and more for the story it's decided to tell (for what is honestly when I really do think about it) using the greek mythology "props"? Like enjoying it separate from the source material?"

Neither I nor any other (sane) Greek would like to police people in a way of stopping their enjoyment of media. Like other Greeks, I have also played Hades and liked it. I believe we can enjoy the present media and still advocate for better media in the future. We can all be more aware, and push for gods and heroes to be treated like the cultural figures they are, and not as products of late-stage western capitalism.

Greek gods and heroes cannot be separated from their culture and still be the same since they no longer carry their stories or embody the same values. (This goes for every cultural figure.) What would be the point of Heracles if your only exposure to him was that "he is an ancient strong guy who kills monsters"? There is a whole story to him beyond that, what makes him "Heracles", a hero that Greeks hold as a symbol even in our days. Without his story, he's no different than an average modern American superhero.

To the first anon: If you were to explain any Chinese hero or deity to me, you would still need to explain all the "surrounding" elements, like the world domains, the monsters, what is "respectful" and what is "not respectful" to do within the context of the Chinese culture. You wouldn't just drop the figure in question and expect me to understand everything, right? And for this reason, I don't think it would be fair to this figure and the Chinese audiences to just drop this figure separated from Chinese culture in a super American setting. As you suspected, it would leave a bad taste in the mouth of religious and non-religious people who know this figure.

There is some effort from Western media to incorporate these elements into their stories but it's done superficially through the classic Americanized lens. This doesn't allow the audience to feel these values and stories within a different context. The producers will do anything so (mainly Western) audiences don't feel alienated by exploring a foreign culture - but this entirely misses the point of exploring a foreign ancient culture.

I don't want to be entirely absolute here and say that no modernized depiction of these figures is good. It was even a fresh take a few years ago but now the market is so saturated with this presentation that even the audience who "loves Greek myth" is only exposed to this, and misses all the nuances of the ancient Greek context.

To its credit, the Hades game incorporated some ancient elements successfully (the gods offering their favor and getting vengeful when ignored, or having their own "human-like" interactions without getting reduced to the presentation of "petty humans"). This is more than what most westernized media has achieved but I still feel we only got crumbs compared to what we could have.

For me and some other Greeks, the game would be considerably elevated by the use of actual Greek culture, in addition to its cool story. By "actual Greek culture" I mean ways of interaction, clothes (not just the standard white chiton), music, etc. It looks like most western media fears that the Greek gods inside their culture will be "too foreign" for their audiences, which treats the audiences as if they're dumb and frustrates the already tired Greeks because god forbid we ever are "too foreign", "too unapproachable" to rich/western foreigners.

As always, depictions of heroes and gods from other cultures should be kept. The very recent phenomenon of westerners just deciding to "re-paint" the Greek gods Nordic pale or West African dark - according to their social sensitivities of the time - is a decision they took alone and without any consultation of Greeks. It's a decision that treats the Greek gods like props, as well, precisely because people of the original culture were never asked, and they are negative about this type of change. This decision was taken with the same brass the western colonizers used these same figures to set harmful standards for the colonized peoples and other nations they deemed "lesser", like the Greeks of their time themselves.

As we are not expected to change Maori, Chinese and Congolese gods' appearance (symbols, clothing, phenotype (or "race" as it is in some countries)) same goes for Greek gods. We grant all gods this standard because we recognize that they're - among other things - symbols of the overwhelming majority of the indigenous people of their land. Many USians mistakenly equate Greeks with the Western colonizers and the US culture, a thought that feeds their ownership attitude which I've spoken about many times in the past and i won't elaborate further on, for the sake of your sanity xD

Finally, if one struggles to place the Greek gods in the context of an actual religion, I think it would help them to read ancient hymns for the Greek gods (which are widely available online, in English at least) so they can see firsthand the veneration they were/are worth to their worshippers. Reading plays like the Bacchae or Alcestis, or parts of the Iliad and the Odyssey where the gods are present will show the magnanimity of the gods within the religion.

I'd also encourage them to recall examples of being present when their family or friends expressed veneration towards a deity (be it the God of Abrahamic religions, the Chinese pantheon, the Hindu pantheon, and so on) and try to imagine the same veneration towards the Greek gods. Studying Greek Orthodoxy is another way to understand this veneration. Since many ancient Greek elements remain in our Christianity, in it one can find many of the old type of respect. (Saint veneration replaced the deities' worship, the Greek type of offering worship, prayer to a home altar with offerings, road altars, funerary customs and processions, etc). If one is already familiar with Christianity this study would be a good middle step, in my opinion.

Having the context for each Greek myth figure one uses can be challenging but big studios should be able to hire specialists and offer proper representation. "They want the pie whole and the dog full", as we say here; they want quick profit with the least possible effort. They know that if they just name-drop some stuff western audiences will believe they have done deep research because previous media never invited them to engage deeply with the Greek heritage.

No culture is "uncomplex" and "easy to learn". Ancient Greek culture, like all, needs significant study to fully grasp. People should not expect to know it all after one Wikipedia reading. There's always more to learn and more context to be understood. The good news is that if you speak English and have an internet connection, translations and analyses of ancient Greek texts are super accessible to you.

It shouldn't be expected from all people to become experts but if one "loves Greek mythology" and their knowledge is PJO level, I am sorry but this person doesn't really know what they "love". A decent amount of study, at one's own pace, will enrich and deepen engagement with the Greek myths. Once you gain more knowledge, you understand why it's needed.

For the second anon's question, "What would be a proper representation of a Greek god", I have mostly answered it in the above paragraphs, but I would also like to add something culture-wise. Since the Greek gods in the media can exist in various eras, one should not divorce them from the Greek element. The Greek gods are an expression of the ancient Greek collective, therefore it wouldn't make sense for them to have lost all touch with Greek ways of thought and attitude. If they were Americans, they wouldn't be WASPs, or Native Americans or Black Americans. They would be more like First Gen Greek Americans. They would love (to a healthy degree) and mention their culture because that's where they came from and that's what they represent.

[corvuserpens]

A Girl, An Ocean {A Black Sails Fanfic} - Ch. 4

Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Teen and up audiences Warnings: Displays of misogyny, gendered slurs Category: Action adventure with romance Characters: Billy Bones, Hal Gates, De Groot, Jean DuBois, OC, NPCs (I don't know how else to name any extra OCs I come up with for plot purposes lmao) Relationships: Billy Bones/OC, Hal Gates/OC (paternal), Jean duBois/OC (bffs) Additional tags: Original character-centric, first person POV, canon character x original character romance, self-discovery journey, kinda alternative prequel to canon, canon compliant, slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting sweetness, cute but also sexy, angst galore, found family, Hal Gates has two children now, canon typical violence Series: Part One of Six of A Girl, An Ocean Chapters: 4/13 Summary: Mr. Folsom continues to be a prick, so Constance teaches him a lesson about what happens when you disrespect her. Much swearing follows.

Author's note: Trying to post these weekly while doing my Master's project/thesis is HARD but right now this fic is the only thing keeping me sane. Next chapter will be a bit more exciting 😉

Chapter iv.

The following day didn't pan out much better than the previous. Mr. De Groot remained patient as he taught me, and even let me steer the helm for a few minutes so I could gain a feel for it. The wheel was much heavier than I had anticipated, difficult to turn, and the coxswain explained it was due to a combination between the influence of the currents on the rudder and the steering tiller that connected it to the helm. He called on Tanner, his apprentice, to take over so he could take me below decks to show me. Before returning to the surface we passed by the great cabin, where all the maps, logs and navigation instruments were kept when not in use.

There, we found a man around my age with large green eyes behind a pair of wiry spectacles hunched over a ledger, quill flying over the page he was working on. He paused momentarily to look up and see who it was, then put the feather in its ink well to stand up.

"Mr. Dufresne, good morning." De Groot encouraged me forward with his hand. "I don't believe you've been introduced to our newest recruit, yet?"

"I have not." The man named Dufresne walked around the desk to shake my hand. "Hello. Constance, is that right?" "Indeed," I replied with a cordial smile which he didn't bother returning. "A pleasure, welcome aboard." At least he had manners, so I considered myself satisfied. "Thank you, sir." "Oh, please, you may do away with the "sir"." He shook his hands with a blush. "I only have a year of seniority over you. Dufresne is fine." De Groot gave his shoulder a pat. "He is our purser. Any complaints you may have with your wage or if you need access to the ship's funds, he's the man you come talk to." "And if you'll forgive me, I have much work to do. So, with your permission..." "Of course, of course." De Groot let him return to his post with the ledgers. "We won't disturb you long, I just want to show Constance some of our charts." "Take your time." Dufresne adjusted his glasses and took up the quill once more. Meanwhile, De Groot reached into a mahogany drawer and pulled out old, stained charts, which he laid out with care on the second, smaller desk to the side. I hadn't noticed before, but the cabin was furnished with shelves stocked with countless books, like a compact library. Clearly, Flint was highly literate. I wondered what kind of books he enjoyed and if anyone in the crew could have access to them. Not that I would be having much time to read in the following months.

The map De Groot chose for me was a very old, stained map of the west coast of England, complete with the Isle of Man and surrounding islands, plus a piece of the eastern Irish coast. He figured I would be more familiar with that part of the world than the Bahamas. I was allowed to take it with me to study for a few days. The goal was to charter a course from England to Ireland, with Bristol as a starting point.

Afterwards, it was back to knot lessons with Mr. Folsom. His mood had not improved over night, sadly. Before teaching me the two remaining knots I had to learn, the zeppelin and bowline, he made me repeat the other three to make sure I had gotten it through my skull. The stopper and the clove hitch I managed with ease, but the butterfly continued to be a source of endless frustration. I still hadn't figured out how to make it properly. Folsom didn't bother showing me how to do it again; he forged ahead to the other two. The zeppelin, meant to tie two rope ends together, wasn't so bad. He explained that there was a similar knot, the square knot, that did the same job, but was far less secure. He showed me the two knots for comparison and insisted I learned the zeppelin and use it above the square knot.

But the bowline... God in heaven, the bowline. It was a perfectly fine knot, as far as they go. It was the knot to use when you wanted to tie off a launch, a dinghy or anything you wanted so it wouldn't drift away. He made it look so easy to tie off, but when I tried, all I did was tangle myself in the rope. After the first three attempts, Folsom waved me off, told me to practice that and the butterfly, and scurried up the shrouds once again.

I was in in the middle of my nineteenth try when Mr. Gates approached me. In his hand, he held a thin document tied off with a string.

"There you are," he said as a greeting. "Got something here for you to read and sign."

I set my practice rope aside to take a look. My brow tensed into a divot. "What is this, Mr. Gates?"

"The Articles of the Walrus," he explained. "Every ship has them, though they vary from one to the other. Think of it as an employment contract. This lists the set of duties you are obligated to as a member of the crew, as well as your rights. I would encourage you to read them over with care, then come see me to sign them. We'll find someone to serve as a witness, should legal liabilities arise, and once your name is set in them, you will officially be a part of this band of bandits." He smiled at me, eyebrows arched. "Sound good?"

I let my fingers brush over the words, heart beating fast with excitement and anticipation. I returned Gates' smile with my own, forgetting about my struggles with the ropes for a minute. "Aye, it does."

The quartermaster gave me a tap on the arm, satisfied. "Take your time with them, alright? You don't have to sign right away or even today. If you have any questions, come and find me."

"Will do, Mr. Gates. Thank you."

He offered a little bow and was off. Meanwhile, I took the opportunity to take a quick break from my lessons to at least read the first page (there were three of them in total).

Like Gates had said, it was a list of rules to be adhered to while on the ship, and nothing I hadn't expected already: loyalty to the captain and crew, to perform my various duties well, monetary compensation and access to healthcare should I suffer any injuries while on the job and even severance pay in case I decided to leave or circumstances forced my departure. Truthfully, I was flabbergast at such conditions. My cousin in the army complained copiously about the poor wages and the lack of protections should the worst come to pass. This was... surprisingly fair. Had I any way to contact him, I might have counseled him to become a pirate instead. I smiled at the thought of his face, receiving such a letter.

But the most surprising detail of the Articles were the wages. I had to rub my eyes to make sure they were working properly and looked again. How much you got paid depended on the haul wielded by a potential prize and its wealth was to be equally distributed by all members of the crew. No exceptions. Not for the quartermaster nor the first mate, not for the boatswain or even the captain. Aboard the Walrus, all men worked equally, so they shared equally. It was remarkable.

A sharp whistle from above startled me. It was Folsom, hanging from the larboard main sail yard tip, glaring at me.

"Have you got the fucking knots done yet?!" He bellowed.

In a hurry, skin going damp with sweat as I stashed the Articles somewhere safe from the wind, I returned to my practice. I did wish the men wouldn't swear quite so much...

One hour later, I had finally figured out the butterfly, having repeated it correctly five times in a row. The bowline continued to elude me, however. When the lunch bell tolled, Folsom came back down to see my progress. I pursed my lips and dipped my chin while he looked over my knots. He stared at me with malice, causing a chill to run down my spine.

"Took your time, but you finally got it, eh?" He smoothed his tongue over a gap where a tooth used to be. "Don't think I forgot my promise to take you up to the yards. We need to verify if you've learned, right? I hope so, for the crew's sake. Would be awful if someone got hurt due to your lack of talent, wouldn't it?"

I stared at him horrified, chest locking up, making it hard to breathe. He had to be joking. Please be joking, please say you're just hazing me and you're not actually serious.

But all he did was laugh in my face and turn his back on me to follow the others to the mess hall. I remained, feet bolted to my spot and eyes up on the sails as if they were ghosts swaying in the wind.

***

While everyone was having lunch, I sat cross legged on my hammock with the Articles, trying to keep my mind away from my afternoon test. I couldn't focus on the words, however. Before I knew it, I was reading the same sentence time and again without assimilating a single thing.

Maybe I should take it up with Gates. Surely he wouldn't allow Folsom to let me take on such great responsibility so early in my career. If the crew's general safety and the ship's capacity was at risk for it, the quartermaster should be notified and it wouldn't count as my seeking favoritism, would it? I was just doing my job.

Oh God, but what if that spelled trouble for Folsom? He would know I had been the one to rat him out and then my life would really become hell. Plus, he would tell the rest of the crew I was a snitch and I would be kicked out before the ink dried on the Articles. On the other hand, if the rigger was being serious about his test and someone did get hurt (or, heaven forbid, got killed), they wouldn't blame Folsom for it. They would blame me, the novice who didn't learn properly, the girl who had no business being on a pirate ship.

No matter which way I looked at it, I was, for lack of a more suitable term, pretty much fucked. Even just thinking the profanity made me blush and silently beg forgiveness.

Jean found me slumped over the Articles. "Salut! I didn't see you at lunch." He leaned over to get a proper look at me, eyebrows knit together with concern. "What's with that face? Did something happen?"

I sighed and figured he was probably the only person to whom it was safe to talk about my dilemma. Hopefully he could assure me that Folsom wouldn't go through with it, that he was all throat and it was meant to scare me, nothing more.

Boy, was I wrong.

When I finished telling him everything, he had a sour look on his face. "Damn, what an asshole. Oh, uh, sorry." He grinned sheepishly and shrugged when I winced. "You get used to it, I mean... ever heard the phrase "swearing like a sailor?" Anyway, that wasn't at all what it was like with me and Will Robins. No matter how many times we got it wrong, he would accompany us step-by-step and tell us exactly where we were making the mistake. We learned all the knots in a couple of days. And he didn't take us up to the yards but a week from our initiation."

My chest deflated with a long, despairing breath. "Do you really think he's gonna make me mess up on purpose?"

"Jesus Christ, I hope not. Someone could get seriously hurt. And Gates would have his head." He paused and took a minute to think. "Maybe you should tell him about this."

"I can't," I bemoaned. "Folsom would know it was me, and then what? If the whole crew finds out I talked to Gates, they will have grounds to vote me out and he won't have a choice but to accept it or risk mutiny."

"Tell Billy, then." He suggested. "He would get him in line and make sure no one found out about your involvement. Constance, you can't get on the yards without knowing the proper knots and how to tie them effectively, it's dangerous."

I only had one option, then. It wouldn't be pretty, and it would be risky to my reputation all the same, but at least I would be alone in bearing the brunt of the consequences. No one needed to get hurt but me.

With a deep, uneven breath to rein in the anxiety gnawing at my stomach, I put the Articles aside and hopped off my hammock. "Don't worry, Jean. That's not gonna happen. Thank you for your advice. I will take it into consideration." And I walked past him to face my destiny, whatever it might be.

Back on the main deck, I marched up to Folsom at the starboard shroud. He was talking to two other riggers, whose names I didn't know. They were laughing about something. When one of them saw me coming, he tapped Folsom's shoulder and pointed. Folsom twisted around and smirked, arms crossed. "I was starting to think you had bolted. Let's get this over with then, shall we? Come on." He grabbed onto the shroud line and jumped onto the bulwark.

I squared my shoulders and planted my feet firm on the floor boards. "No."

Folsom froze just as he had set a foot on the rat lines. His cold gray eyes narrowed at me. "What?"

"This is dangerous and you know it. I haven't had the time to properly learn the knots! If I go up there with you, it's a recipe for disaster." My voice started out shaky and insecure, but as I progressed, it stabilized and grew more firm. "I won't risk my life or the crew's for your sick joke and your prejudice."

That mean little smirk returned to his toothless mouth. I hated how victorious he looked. It made me want to push him overboard. "I taught you the fucking knots. If you didn't learn them right, then maybe you're just not cut out for this. It's not your fault. Women just don't belong in ships, s'all."

A blinding rage set fire to my innards, for once making my face flare up not with shame, but with rage. "Like hell you taught me the knots. If you had bothered teaching me like you did with Jean and Will maybe I might have learned already, but you didn't!"

By then, our argument had garnered a small crowd which formed a circle around us. I could feel their stare on me, and it unnerved me, but I kept my eyes on Folsom and focused on my point.

"You saw I was struggling and didn't help. You saw me practice for hours on end, going in circles, and couldn't care less, and now you want me to go up the yards with you? It's not my fault you're such a f... F... a FUCKING prick of a teacher!"

I had to shout the swear, or else it wouldn't have come out. The crowd burst into laughter, some of them bending over, clutching to their sides, finding my puritanical hiccup hilarious. But not Folsom.

He dropped onto the deck with a stomp akin to a gun shot, face twisted with anger, murder in his eyes. He advanced toward me and hovered, nose inches from mine, but no matter how intimidated I felt, I refused to move. Maybe I shuddered a little, but that was it.

"What the fuck did you say to me?" He growled.

Despite the fear pumping in my veins and how dry my mouth was, I forced a smile on my lips and seized the opportunity. "If you didn't hear me properly the first time, then maybe you're not as smart as you think you are."

A long chorus of "uuuuu" filled the deck. Folsom raised his hand, making me shrink back in preparation for the blow. "You fucking cunt--!"

"That's enough, Folsom!"

The rigger froze, looked to the side. As I slowly lowered my arms, I followed his gaze: Mr. Gates was bulldozing his way through the crowd, shoving aside anyone who didn't move out of his way in time. His cheeks were red with anger, mouth set on a stern line beneath his mustache. Jean trailed after him, his face a mask of pure anxiety. I hadn't noticed him among the others, but he must have been there and ran to fetch the quartermaster when the argument started escalating.

Gates stopped between Folsom and I, fists on his hips as he turned from one to the other repeatedly, waiting. Although he was taller than Gates, Folsom shriveled under his glare.

"Well? Anyone care to explain what the fuck's going on here?"

I said nothing. Figured it was Folsom's responsibility to tell him, since this was mostly his fault.

"This brat--" he pointed a finger at me. "Is refusing to learn how to manage the rigging and is blaming me for it. Like it's my fault she's too daft to learn or that I'm somehow responsible for her cowardice."

Oh, that son of a... "Excuse me? He's the one who showed me how to tie the knots once and then left me to figure it out on my own! And now he wanted me to climb to the yards and learn the rigging, when he knows I can barely do those knots."

"Shut your trap, you little--!"

"YOU shut your trap," Gates ordered. "Before I knock what's left of your teeth! So she's not learning anything from you, is that it? Funny, because from what De Groot, Thierry and Bjorn said, she's been proving to be hard-working and eager to learn."

Thierry and Bjorn were the two men who had been into storage with me, the previous day. They had given me the worst tasks, ordered me to carry the heaviest weights and laughed when I struggled, panting like a dying animal. I never imagined they would then report back to Gates and praise me.

I scanned the crowd for their faces -- there they were. Bjorn, barrel chested and fiery red hair with a braided beard to match, and Thierry, with round cheeks the color of ebony and an easy smile on his lips. They were watching the whole thing like it was the most entertaining piece of theater they had seen and smirked at me with approval in their eyes.

Folsom's fists clenched and unclenched as he searched for a better argument to make. I crossed my arms and raised my chin, savoring how he squirmed. Gates pinched the bridge of his nose, then snapped his fingers.

"I know how to solve this conundrum. You--" he pointed to Folsom. "Have two days to teach her how to tie the fucking knots. And you--" his finger swerved to me. "Have two days to learn them. If she can't tie the knots with her eyes closed by then, you will both regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

I thought it was unfair that I was being threatened with punishment along with Folsom, but this early into the game, I didn't have the guts to argue with Mr. Gates. Therefore, reluctantly, I bit my tongue and nodded. Folsom swore under his breath, but also waved out a hand air in annoyance. "Fine."

"That's settled, then. Two days. Don't disappoint me. Either of you." Mr. Gates turned his back on us and slid through the crowd. "Don't you people have anything to do? Get back to work!"

The men scattered like roaches to return to their posts. Before he left, Jean and I exchanged a look: his of concern, mine of gratitude. I nodded to let him know I was fine, and he left as well.

"Fucking hell..."

I looked to Folsom, who was still fuming but steadily calming down. He pegged me with a glare which I returned, scrunching up my brow and slitting my eyes to make myself as menacing as possible. I was done letting him or anyone else on this crew treat me like garbage. They could tease and haze all they liked, but when I felt they've gone too far, I was going to speak up.

The rigger shook his head. "Alright. Get over here."

I followed him to the highcastle, but we didn't climb the stairs. Instead, he sat on the steps and motioned for me to do the same.

"Do you have your practice ropes?"

I pulled them out of my pocket and placed them on his extended hand.

"Three times around your hand." He acted out the instructions for me to see. "Finger beneath the bottom row. Grab the middle row. Middle finger passes under that row. Slide them all the way over the back of your hand." He held up his perfect butterfly not. "Got it?"

"I believe so," I replied, then prepared to mimic him.

"Three times around your hand..."

He walked me through the whole knot and, what do you know? I got it right on the first try. I held it up for examination and couldn't rein back a small, satisfied smile when he nodded his approval.

"That's good. Adjust it so it's tight around you wrist."

I passed my hand through the hoop and pulled on the line to close it on my arm. It held fast, just as it was supposed to.

"You got it. Now tie it again."

I broke the knot and repeated it without Folsom's instructions, with full confidence. Again, I managed it without struggling.

"The bowline, now." He put one of his feet up so he could bring the line around his ankle. "One loop. Make a cross. Twist the line up and backwards. Pass the end through it from underneath, then under the line, back into the new loop from above. Pull the line to close it."

Again, he explained what I should do, step-by-step, correcting me when necessary. He tugged on the finished bowline to make sure it was secure, then told me to do it again, without help. On the first try, I twisted the rope downward instead of upward, but I soon realized the mistake and corrected it. When I got stumped on how to get the end through, he was quick to remind me, yet let me finish on my own. And there was my bowline, strong and true. By the fourth try, I was able to tie it without any assistance.

It was so easy after learning, I felt doubly annoyed at my mentor. My eyes shot up from my bowline to Folsom's. "Why couldn't you have taught me like this from the beginning?" I said. "It would have been so much easier for both of us."

"Women don't belong in ships," he shrugged. "It's not natural."

"Says who, exactly?"

Another shrug, until he stopped to really think about it, then stammered. "I don't know, God, I suppose. It's just the way things are."

"At the risk of blaspheming, do you see God come down from the heavens to cast me out of the Walrus as He did with Adam and Eve when they were expelled from Paradise?"

"Well, no, but that don't mean anything. God tells me not to sin, yet He won't come down to keep me from it, either."

"Oh, and I'm to believe you make a grand effort not to?" I arched an eyebrow in doubt. Folsom turned away, hands wringing around the line he held. "Exactly. So maybe people just take pleasure in doing what they're not supposed to. I thought that was what the whole pirate philosophy was about? Do what you want and hang the rules. You want to swear and raid and... visit the "ladies of the night" (that got a snort out of him) and I want to sail. Why should I be denied my wish just because I'm a woman? I'm learning, aren't I?"

Folsom chewed on my words for a couple of minutes. While he was at it, I tied a butterfly and a bowline. Both knots were flawless. When I looked up, I caught him half smiling. I set the rope aside and held out my tar covered hand. "You're a good teacher, Mr. Folsom. I want to show I'm a good student, too. Truce?" He stared down at my hand, but soon took it and gave it a firm shake. "Truce." I let go of his palm and grabbed the rope once more. "Now, you said you were going to teach me the cleat hitch next."

"Aye, that I did." He stood up and lead the way to the bow of the ship. "And I'm also going to teach you how to swear, because that teeny wittle "fucking" you choked out was ridiculous." My stomach lurched, both from the reminder of my silly figure and the actual profanity. "In my defense, I'm not used to using swears. My parents wouldn't allow it."

"Had a feeling you were a pampered brat." This insult came out much more casual, without any of the contempt he'd previously laced them with. So, I let it slide. "Well shit, you're a fucking pirate now, so that means you'll fucking swear like one, goddammit."

"Oh my God, stop!" I brought up my hands to my ears to muffle out his voice. They felt hot against my palms, same as my cheeks. "The fuck's the matter with it? Them's just words! When you stub your toe somewhere during a bathroom run in the middle of the night, do you want to say "oh gee golly, that hurt?" No! You want to scream, "ow, shit, my fucking foot!" So you're gonna say as many profanities as you can and you're gonna let your tongue get a feel for them, until they come out as naturally as any other pissing word."

I winced to Folsom's never-ending string of curses. Couldn't even begin to imagine myself putting so many of them into a single sentence. We got to the fifes. Folsom crossed his arms and pinned me with a hard stare. "You know what this is?" I hesitated, already guessing what was coming. "A fife rail," I muttered. "No," he said. "It's a goddamn fife rail. Say it." I swallowed dry and turned the word over in my mouth like it was dirt before trying: "A god-damn f-fife rail." "What? Didn't hear nothing. Spit it out, you cunt."

I glared at him for using that word again. I hated it. My blood boiled in my veins as that old anger stirred up, so much so that, to my shock, the profanity came out much easier. "A goddamn fife rail."

"That's more like it." He grinned at the way I brought my hands to my mouth, face flaming hot. "And you know what you're gonna do with this fife rail? You're gonna tie a fucking line to the pin. Go on."

Oh, God have mercy. "I'm gonna tie a ffff... Dammit, I'm gonna tie a fucking line to the stupid fucking pin!"

Huh. What do you know. It does feel good when you do it angry. Folsom laughed loud and good, reminding me too much of a gull squawking.

"There! There you have it! Fucking hell." He smacked a hand on the rail with a relaxed sigh. "Oh, which reminds me. I'm not a fucking prick." He smirked like a cat about to jump on a mouse. "I'm a fucking asshole of the worst kind."

"You really are, though." I retorted, arms crossing at my front. "An extremely irritating, prejudiced little shit and a cock-faced son of a bitch." Oh, sweet Jesus, it felt too good. My Mother and Father would have fainted if they even imagined I was using such language.

"Alright, alright, don't get excited, you're gonna hurt my feelings." But judging by his big grin, it was clear he was pleased with my rotten mouth.

He taught me the cleat hitch, which I tied with ease. Just like that, my knots (and my swearing) improved from one minute to the next, and I felt certain that we would both pass Gates' test without breaking a sweat.

Before wrapping up the lesson, I remembered there was something else I needed to do in order to become an official member of the crew. I asked Folsom if he would like to do the honors and, surprisingly, he agreed. Therefore, we descended to my hammock to get the Articles, and then it was off to find Mr. Gates.

He was in the great cabin with captain Flint, which was just my luck since I would likely need his presence as well. The door was open when we arrived, all I had to do was knock. "If I may have a moment...? I will be brief."

"Come in," Flint said. Once again, he was sitting at his desk, while Gates occupied the chair across from it. Folsom and I stepped into the cabin to stand by him.

"I have read the Articles as you requested, Mr. Gates. And I think I'm ready to sign. If it's alright with you and the captain, I already brought a witness."

Gates' dark eyes hopped between the two of us with mild surprise, which he was entitled to, since not an hour ago he had seen us at each other's throats. Flint remained impassive, if a little curious.

"I take it you've made your peace with each other, then?" Gates asked cautiously.

"We have, yes." I answered.

Folsom added: "She's not so bad, now that she's gotten her potty mouth."

"Shush, you," I hissed, cheeks flaring up yet again.

Gates chuckled and shook his head. He looked to Flint. "Any objections?"

"Not on my part." He said while smoothing down his beard. "If this is truly what she wants, then go ahead."

Gates pushed the ink well in my direction. I set the Articles on the desk, dipped the quill and scribbled my name in elegant calligraphy, the product of my high class education. I added a swift, bold swirl to my signature, almost like a personal statement. I'm here, this is who I am and this is what I choose.

My old life as a proper lady was over. My new life as a scallywag had officially begun.

***

Two days later, Gates called the two of us to him and ordered me to perform my knots with my eyes closed. I let Folsom tie a blind fold around my eyes, as a precaution and extra flair. Neither one of us wished me to fail, so putting on a bit of a show, though risky, was sure to fortify our success as mentor and pupil beyond doubt.

I tied all five knots without a hitch. Mr. Gates was satisfied with the results, so Folsom and I came away from our ordeal with our hides untanned and pride swelling in our chests.

As we moved on through the weather deck, Folsom turned to me. "What do we say?"

I set my hands on my hips with a bright grin. "Fuck yeah."

"Damn right."

[dabihawksluvr]

the reason i'm on anon is bc i wanna see ur fuck ass response LMFAO and my problem isn't w you having a headcanon!!! genuinely, i personally believe dabi is a rapist and a murderer so like. my problem isn't w you having a headcanon babes trust. my problem is when you make something that is ROOTED in misogyny, and then when you get called out for it you double down instead of going 'my bad, i didn't realize it could come off that way'. also, afab people can still have internalized misogyny, hope that helps! again, TO BE CLEAR: i do not have a problem w your headcanon and i actually do think w the way you explained it in the tags (coward. i feel like calling you a coward for talking in the tags instead of outright is fair since you called me a coward for wanting to see your response) IS genuinely a cool concept and i too would love to see character development shown in new and different ways. but you didn't make that clear at all, so. yeah. people are going to see your misogyny for what it is. so. again, headcanon whatever you want. but don't expect to get away with blaming your problems on a fictional character and getting no backlasshhh... also insulting people when they call you out for something is nawt the way to win an argument, like at all... it actually kinda proves that ur pulling shit out of your ass for your own personal entertainment/because you have nothing better to say or do. hope this helps!! (and btw, i do have you blocked im just a hater <3)

I'm gonna have to get serious for this one...

+ You do have a problem with my headcanon, otherwise you would've left me alone instead of causing drama. (I do thank you for blocking me tho at least you're somewhat aware of what you're doing)

+ Dabi is canonically a murderer, he's a villain and shown to burn people with his flames all the time. But you seeing him as a 'rapist' is on you, it honestly sounds more 'misogynistic' to me than him simply hating on women but not acting on it besides maybe some dejected words or not seeing women as a threat. And news flash, Dabi hates everyone already. So that includes women by default.

+ You and others have told me several times that I am 'misogynistic' for my headcanon, I may be delusional but I'm not going around saying whatever you and others are trying to imply. I never once said I look down on or hate the female characters (or any females who did respond to my post), my OG post was meant to be a little bit of angsty fun and nothing more. If you got this upset, I suggest seeking therapy because you have greater issues than I ever will. And I admit, my mental health is pretty bad. But even I can see you are going through some stuff, just go seek help.

+ I did make it clear. I wrote it in my OG post, how it would be a cool concept to see Dabi/Touya be a bit misogynistic but then he'd get over it because Fem!Y/N helps him see that women can be strong rather than just pawns to men. If you misunderstood that, maybe you should've been nicer about it instead of insulting me outright. YOU are the reason the drama started, so take responsibility for that. You are trying to push it all on me, when you were the first to make a response and 'call me out' for literally no sane reason.

+ What 'problems' have I blamed on any character? Sure, I do connect with Dabi on a deep level because his story is close to my own experiences with past trauma/abuse. But I have not once blamed any character for my own issues. Unless you can find any post of mine where I say that I exactly blame a character for my own shortcomings or behaviors, then just stop saying that I'm blaming a fictional character for things that I've done. I may not be mentally aware of reality 90% of the time, but I still have enough intelligence to distance myself from the fiction I enjoy.

+ You are doing the exact same thing. I'm actually being serious with this response, if you cannot handle someone cursing at you then not my problem. It's insane that you are taking it THIS seriously, to the point where I don't even find it funny anymore. You are sad and pathetic, literally you could've just blocked me before but you had to respond and insult me because you saw me portray a FICTIONAL CHARACTER in a way you didn't like. Even I'm smarter than this, if I hate what someone posts this much I just block them and go on with my day.

+ The ONLY good thing you did was block me, but that is the bare minimum here. I could call you all the same things you called me, that you are a loser who has nothing better to do than stir up needless drama. At least I admit my OG post was just for 'funsies', unlike you and many others who've started attacking me because you are too chronically online. You are the one pointing the finger, saying I am a 'misogynist' because of a stupid headcanon I didn't even take seriously to begin with. Dabi is not real, it doesn't matter what headcanons I decided to give him because he is not a real person who can just come up to me and reply back.

...I think those are all the points I wanted to respond to. But honestly, just grow up. Dabi/Touya is not real, if you are this hurt over somebody that's fictional then just go seek therapy. I'm delusional, but I'm not THIS delusional to where I attack other people over stupid things like this. Just move on and block me.

You are no different than the homophobes who use IzuOcha as a vessel to attack the fujoshi and lgbt members of this fandom. You are using a fictional character to justify harassing someone else, while putting blame onto that other person because you got upset and were called out on it.

This will be the final Anon I will respond to. Any others I get in the future will be ignored.

[brb-on-a-quest]

Day SixHappy Sunday! (if you live where I do lol) thanks to all 22 of you are hanging out with me and doing these! they're a lot of fun to think of and I'm glad you're all having a good time answering them!~soft edition~whats your go-to comfort movie?what's your favorite comfort food?what do you like to do to cheer yourself up?say three nice things about your appearance say three nice things about your personalitysay three nice things about your intelligence what brings you peace?what is a great personal, handmade gift that someone could make you?what reminds you of home? (it could be your physcial house, but it could also be the feeling of home)tag someone who makes you smile :)

whats your go-to comfort movie?

How to train your dragon

what's your favorite comfort food?

Coffee!!!!!

what do you like to do to cheer yourself up?

depends on what's bringing me down. If it's work? i do scrapbooking or scrolling. if it's relationship stuff i either ask questions or go hangout and do things offline/with a different friend group until i am of sane mind. If it's normal anxiety depression stuff god help us all (but mainly its talking with people/tumblring/or logging off and doing real-world activities when i can... rn the library bc saving money is a beautiful beautiful thing)

say three nice things about your appearance say three nice things about your personality.

i have long hair (ok it medium length but longest i've ever had it) and it and feels really good when i take care of it properly

someone told me i had really pretty eyes once.

dkfjlskdfj

I am very funny.; i am not very smart but this really only adds as a bonus to the funny

i am kind and trying to make the world a better place than when i leave it

growth mindset!! (slowly but surely)

say three nice things about your intelligence

I am not very smart but this, again, leads to the lovable goofball persona

I like reading which makes gaining knowledge easier (if only i can make myself to read things besides fiction)

Again, growth mindset, so trying to keep a postive approach to failure and setbacks (im not the best at it, but small steps count).

what brings you peace?

taking time to intentionally disconnect from what is expected of me.

what is a great personal, handmade gift that someone could make you?

Anything. i love sweets, i love art, I love writing, i love seeing people's talents.

what reminds you of home? (it could be your physcial house, but it could also be the feeling of home)tag someone who makes you smile :)

My desk, it's got all of my knicknacks. And also hangingout with friends. I'm not picking one how dare.

@walkthruthewords @sunflowers-and-polka-dots @igotthisaccountunderduress @hiddenvioletsgrow @onewingedsparrow @afaroffsong @informedimagining @illneverforget365 (@rest of mutuals).

[fereldanwench]

WIP Whenever (Actually on a Wednesday!)

@chevvy-yates had tagged me in a WIP Whenever thingy last week (I think? What is time) and @breezypunk sharing their WIPs reminded me I meant to do this. So, stuff I'm working on!

Over my Christmas break, I just started barely scratching the surface of working on my own custom poses. Because I'm me, I desperately need some battle couple poses--Fighting side-by-side, holding the other one while they're wounded, maybe fighting each other, etc. I compiled a Pinterest inspo board here to get an idea of what I'm going for.

This pose isn't anywhere close to being finished, but it's a start:

A small confession: while I actually like working in Blender quite a bit, I kind of hate everything else about modding, lmao. I've probably said it before, but my day job requires me to use so many shitty apps and software that always require 37 workarounds just to perform normally--I really don't have a lot of patience for troubleshooting shit during my leisure hours. Hopefully, the project won't become too much of a headache when I get into importing and working with props. 🤞

Virtual photography is always a constant for me these days--I was actually thinking yesterday how it feels like the absolute perfect creative medium for me. I like drawing and writing and 'real' photography, and I very much need to make sure I have more analog and tactile creative projects to keep me sane, but VP just hits in a way nothing else really has.

I am still working on the photostory I shared last time, but I don't want to give away too much there. It's also on a bit of a pause while I figure out some tech issues (read: I regret updating my game, lmao). However, I already have a ton of shots/mini-stories I need to queue up:

Other than that, it's kind of personal reflection shit and contemplating goals/resolutions for 2024. Getting long-winded and a little blunt under the cut:

I've always really struggled with making goals--I don't think I've ever had a situation in which I explicitly stated "I have a goal of XYZ" and then I achieved XYZ. I've had plenty of nebulous "Hey, I think I'd like to do XYZ" thoughts and then lo and behold, I do actually make XYZ a reality, but as soon as the word "goal" is attached to something, I just check tf out.

It was actually something I was trying to talk to my therapist about last summer, and then we kind of hit a dead end on that specific topic and decided I had other problems that were more pressing to deal with, lmao. But all the best goal advice in the world--following the SMART method, sharing it with someone for extra accountability, etc.--Just does not work with my brain.

(The accountability thing in particular always hugely backfires for me because just telling someone I want to do a thing tricks my brain into thinking I did that thing and now I don't need to anymore. Also, I don't like people telling me what to do, so if someone was like "hey, shouldn't you do this thing so you can meet your goal" I will say no just on principle of being a brat, lmao. I really hate that piece of advice.)

I know some of it, probably a lot of it, is fear of failure if I don't meet the goal. I'm very hard on myself--That's a no-brainer.

But I also think some of it, maybe just as much, is fear of success. Which I used to think was the stupidest fucking thing anyone could say about this shit, but success can mean big change. Success can mean increased feelings of imposter syndrome. Success can mean attention and responsibility I don't want. Success can mean bigger consequences if I do fuck up later.

I've come to realize that success is honestly as equally scary to me as failing.

I think this is a big reason I've always been content (or convinced myself to be content) with being good and not great, even if that means I'm not reaching my ~*full potential*~. (There are other external/macro reasons for that too, like my loathing of people trying to push me to monetize my passions, but I don't feel like getting into systemic gripes, lmao.)

Goals that require me to step outside of my usual routine also give me a lot of anxiety, which is something I've working towards managing (you could say that it's a goal of mine to get that under control dfgjhfjgdf), but that's still a very real hurdle for me.

Like I've been trying to go back to a minimum of 20 minutes of dedicated exercise (versus just walking a lot) a 3 times a week, and I get stressed if I miss it, or even just feel like I'm going to miss it (like if 7 PM starts creeping up and I haven't started it yet), but I also get all bent out shape spending 20 minutes on exercising while I'm doing it as if there's a better use of that time and THERE'S NOT. Like, what am I really missing? 20 minutes of scrolling Tumblr? Shut the fuck up, lmao.

All this to say that I don't really feel like I'm ready to set goals in a traditional sense, and that might not be something that ever works for me, but there are things I think would just be... kinda nice for me to do for myself that I want to do this year:

I need to actually be nicer to myself. As a matter of fact, @ren3gade--I hope you don't mind the tag, but I've been meaning to thank you for the "forgive yourself" advice you shared a couple of months back. I started making it a point to use that in my self-talk when I start spiraling, and it has been one of the best means of mitigating certain aspects of my social anxiety. I felt goofy as hell when I first started doing it, but that shit works. Positive self-talk makes you feel better, wow, who knew certainly not me

In a similar spirit, I want to stop being so judgemental about my limitations, and I need to mitigate feelings of guilt when I set boundaries for my mental health and energy. This is something I want to achieve in all areas of my life, but I think the easiest place for me to start flexing these muscles is with fandom. Because, damn, I let myself get into some really bad habits with the CP77 fandom (and I forgive myself for that 🙌). One of the big ones has been putting pressure on myself to keep up with what all my CP77 mutuals are doing at all times, and I'm not doing that to myself anymore. I've spent so much time in the past two years methodically going through tags and blogs to catch up on stuff I missed, and I'm just... relieving myself of this obligation. I know a lot of folks have tried to mitigate that for themselves by encouraging everyone to use their username-tracked tag--I'm not doing that. I'm not giving y'all more tagging work, and I'm not going to give myself the same obligation just in a different way. If I miss a post, I miss a post. Of course y'all are always more than welcome to @ me or send me things you think I'd enjoy (I love that, actually!!), but I'm just one person--I'm incapable of being an omnipresent fandom cheerleader and I don't know why I was pushing myself to be that. Well, that's not entirely true--I have some idea of why, but that's also a mentality I'm leaving in the dust. 😘 Also, for a long time, I did not use the like button for anything other than personal posts purely out of spite because I got tired of people complaining when they'd get likes but not reblogs--My asshole mentality was "Fine, now you get nothing." And that worked for me for several years and several fandoms, but I'm frankly tired of the "like" slander on Tumblr. It's a valid form of interaction and letting someone know you liked their stuff. I don't say this with malice, but other people's mentality of being unhappy with likes instead of reblogs is not my burden to bear. Anyway, I don't want to turn this into a rant about fandom stuff, lmao, but the point is I need more boundaries in my life, and I'm starting here.

I'm happier when I spend more time than I have been on traditional art and creative things that get me off my PC. Like I said above, I love VP so much, but it does unfortunately tether me to my computer desk longer than is probably good for me in the long run, mentally and physically. I stocked up on some new traditional art supplies, and I need to put those to use now that I'm settled into my new place. (And I've been itching to do a charcoal portrait of my bb girl.)

Reading books (gotta be physical, no screens) also makes me feel better. I've got about 7 books on my nightstand that I could totally finish this year--Doing that might be the one stereotypical goal I make for myself.

I want to reevaluate how I "multitask;" in particular, I want to break the habit of always having to have a background show/movie on OR always feeling the need to do something on my computer/phone while I watch a show/movie. Even as a kid (way before I lost my attention span to my smartphone lmao), I've always been inclined to doing something else while I watch shows and movies, but that used to be limited to drawing or painting my nails, which I think is fine. Now I just always feel like I need a screen nearby to do something else, even if there's really not something else worth doing. And listening to music or podcasts while I work on a thing is also fine, but it's gotten to the point where I almost can't have complete silence, and I don't like that. I miss being comfortable with silence while I pour all of my focus into a project. I just need to find some equilibrium here.

I know this isn't exactly a standard WIP Whenever, but me is what I'm working on, and I think it's all essential stuff to nurturing my creativity. 😊

[spaceorphan18]

I'm just thinking out loud about things, please don't mind me.

I have a tendency to only blog about my life when it's going badly, and I mean it makes sense - in that sometimes you want to have a space to kind of think out loud and let it out. I'm sure most sane people journal or talk to a bff. I vent to an audience of strangers on the internet. Because I'm weird like that.

But, here's the thing, I'm not doing badly this time! Really, this is the sanest I've felt in a long time, and it's probably due to the fact that I've actually let myself rest (and got one part of my living space picked up). But I do have a lot of things on my mind, so this is me just kind of word vomiting about things kind of as an update as to where my life is at.

On Health: I think the tricky thing this year has been more my physical health than the mental. I'm mentally in a much better place than I was a year ago, and that's great. Now I have to get the physical side back in shape. I've had to run through different kinds of medication lately, and I think things might be straightened out? Also, I was sick most of last week, which didn't help. But I feel decent now - and I'm really hoping it'll stay that way, because I'm just so tired of not feeling well.

On Work: Work as been a lot. We fired the woman who was giving us problems - for anyone who wondered how that whole thing turned out. There's a lot of change happening, and some drama - which I've been grateful I have not been a part of. It's a lot. It's always a lot a lot a lot, but it's not Indiana. As hard and stressful as things can get here... it's not Indiana.

On Glee Things: Now that I'm kind of in a better mental space about it -- I think it'll be best if I just take a step back from any kind of community related thing. I think the thing I keep coming back to me is that Glee is just a part of me now. It's been with me for so long that it's very personal and between the weird up rising of fans who really are only seeing things in Black and White and the obtuse-ness of K and J's podcast sometimes I just can't with it anymore.

The tournament is going to play out quickly and then I'm done with that. Yes, I'm still writing. Yes, I'll still say my thoughts about the things Darren said. No, I'm never really going to go anywhere.

But I don't really want to be a part of the large fandom anymore.

That said -- I think what else has been bothering me is the fact that I miss so many people. The community that I was a part of just doesn't seem to be there anymore. And, I mean, I get it -- lots of people move on. Lots of people are busy. And there are a few of you that have been around and aren't going anywhere, either, and I do see you! But sometimes I wonder if I've come full circle in that I'm talking into an empty void again.

On X-Men things: Meanwhile, guys. I have a lot of thoughts. Marvel has always had a yo-yo effect on me, and I just have gone down the rabbit hole again. It's making me happy, and breaking my heart in the best possible way, and still making me happy. I apologize up front, because there are going to be a lot of X-Men things coming. (As usual, i'll tag it all)

On Reading: Idk, I just want to read more. I have a huge pile of things to read. And I just want to be more consistent about it.

On taking a freakin' break: My vacation is two weeks away. I'm going to take the pressure off myself and just let myself have a break, because I think that's what I really need.

Thankfully, it's spring, and this is my absolute favorite time of year as it gets warmer out.

Don't be a stranger, guys, I do love talking to all of you.

(And eventually, i'll get that queue going again.)

<3 <3

[multifairyus]

Spicy Brelwyn Playlist Update

Tl;dr—What should the Playlist name be?

Disclaimers:

1. Idk how to make a post Mature/Explicit so uuhhh if you’re too young for this then like…don’t engage. If you’re a minor, I’d appreciate if you took a back seat in this discussion please and thank you!

2. I personally headcannon the whole “Early College” thing in Legendborn as just normal college. Sexy situations aside I think aging up the characters it solves plot contrivances and makes things simpler where the more complicated option isn’t terribly interesting. As such, the relationship discussed between Briana and Selwyn is between two adults. Moreover, while Sel’s demonia makes an ~appearance~ and influence, this playlist is meant to be conceptualized without the looming threat of him descending into demonia and subsequent blurring of the lines between “safe, sane, and consensual”, as is in Demonia’s Descent. So like…in my headcannon/playlist AU, the power of love makes Sel better at edging his demon? Yeah. Yeah? Sure.

…look, I’m not here to make this shit actually make sense with the plot. That’s for the lovely theorists, fix-it/alt POV fic writers and resource gathering fandom members’ forte. I’m here to provide the official soundtrack of Legendborn smut for those of us on the front lines when there was under 100 fics total on AO3 and for the new fans that will come when Book 3 is released. I do have an aspiration to take undue credit for one of playlist songs ending up in the Legendborn TV show—oh y’all couldn’t tell me NOTHINGGG. If nothing else, I just want people to enjoy and create fan works to the playlists, cuz this is my own kind of fan work 😊

Image from OpenMeDesigns

Aight now let’s get INTO ITTTTT

So, Of Our Own Volition had Brelwyn making love for the first time. The earliest one could theorize it happening (with a non heteronormative definition of sex) could be Into Orbit…tho personally? It’s when The Line was clearly crossed in Virgo’s Scorpio’s Groove. Immediately followed by Sel having a damn religious ascension with Submerge: Until We Become the Sun. We get some afterglow and end on a flirty, playful, even experimental note with We Might Even Be Falling In Love (feat. Bryson Tiller for my Spotify peeps). It’s all very saccharine and tender and sweet and I love it…

This is not that playlist. They are grown and fucking fucking now. We are getting explicit. We are getting kinky. I allowed myself like one and a halfish toxic song in this playlist, since there’s more than enough excellent but SUPER TOXIC relationship songs for the TLC trio, regardless if you’re OT3 endgame or Brelwyn endgame. …A Toxic OT3 playlist will come in due time, with my softboi hours (Brickel? Nickee? Brick?) Brick Playlist along side it as a palette cleanser.

But now? I want input for what a grown and sexy playlist would be for these two!I like wording and terminology from the book—“Everything in Between” isn’t bad but feels too wordy? I’m open to phrases from fics too, especially from who have published excellent Brelwyn smut already—you know who you are (because I tagged you cuz y’all’s work deserves more hype @sweetestblacktea @justbrainrot @thoughtfulbearpanda @ficnoire2 )

I will crowdsource opinions on kinks our lovely couple is into, giving or receiving, in the comments. For scientific reasons, of course. I’m a chemist irl, and I know chemistry when I see it! 👩🏾‍🔬🥵👌🏾😩

Onto my specific thoughts I think may be helpful to answer my query!

~*~*~*~*~*~

I think I wanna have transition songs like the instrumental tracks in O3V and DD. But my searches for “sexy violin” are not giving what I need it to.

An idea I have is to instead have shifts be denoted by a lil “Demonia Dip” as I call it. Not full on Act V of DD bad but like, compared to the rest of the playlist you’d be like “oh yeah it’s that bastard again” we’re talking For Your Entertainment by Adam Lambert and a reappearance of Tonight You are Mine by the Technicolors.

This is an R&B slowjams playlist for our protagonist and King Bree first and foremost… but Sel IS a white boy with THAT kinda playlist for his deepest, darkest desires…it’s only fair the cambion brain gets a few tracks, if only to signal “oh we are NASTY nasty now huh—“ Plus I let the white boy freak flag fly by starting off O3V with Sweater Weather. He can have a dip or two. As a treat.

Track Teasers (in no particular order)

F.U.C.K., Victoria Monet

Earned It, The Wknd (Often and Lost in the Fire are going to the top of Toxic playlist because I couldn’t add them in good faith with content or language I disapprove of in it 🥴 but the Wknd couldn’t NOT be in here)

Speechless, Buddy

Skin, Rihanna

A Muse, dvsn

Rope Burn, Janet Jackson

Teehee this is gonna be fun y’all 💖

Kthxbai

-Fairy

[director-yomi-hellsmile]

Cube joke (pinned post)

If you know me from @/growling or @/seth-burroughs then you get a krówka. Personal blog of Yomi Hellsmile, so just call me by that name. Serious metaphysical fictionkind & fictive, I'm actually fine with treated as literal Blorbo From Your Games it makes me feel sane and slightly better than just having it ignored. Please poke me around and bombard me with questions as much as you like I thrive off of attention and require constant enrichment in my containment chamber. Just no being weirdly invasive/rude with questions like ''what is the exact mechanism of how you tried to kill your girlfriend that one time'' or otherwise not saying shit to me I know you wouldn't say to literally anyone else please I'm trying to be so nice every day

Fine with source talk / Rain Code discussion (if you're cool with me getting a bit weird about it), fine with all sourcemates if you are respectful/nice in turn, I don't have anything against doubles and I'm waving at you same hat style but I'll probably just nonjudgmentally block you for my own comfort, sorryyyy I gotta take care of my shitty heart rate.

I'm very often not good at articulating myself and a lot of things I end up writing end up kind of incomprehensible or weird, I can't really do anything about it so don't point this out unless you absolutely need to have something clarified. Sometimes I get confused and either not really get what you're saying or can't reply to you for quite some time whether because of that or my perpetual low energy, if you @'d me or sent me an ask and I don't respond within a week then I'm not purposefully ignoring you; either need to take longer time with writing, or I don't really have an answer. Don't blow up at me for asking you to clarify something in simpler terms. My tone might be off either due to those, my brain just working differently, or english not being my first language.

Other info + disclaimers/warnings:

Trans man + outherine bigender, masculine or neutral terms only - and no, "girl" is not gender neutral and I do not care if you use it that way. If you'd like to perceive me perhaps refer to me even: he/him, it/its or xe/xem/xir, and only those; do not call me by they. Also don't call me a "boy" I am a grown ass man.

Loveless aroace (and a fagdyke if you unlock my easter egg), aplatonic, afamilial, posting about those pretty often. Or I think. I'm trying.

Semiverbal MSN autistic + schizophrenic and refuses to shut up about it, which is the main reason some posts may be worded weirdly.

NPD, ASPD and AvPD, I also like talking about those. My brain's valiant mission to collect every heavily stigmatized disorder in order to craft the most fucked up individual in Poland. Follow me in order to fulfill your mutual list diversity quota /joking that was a /joke

Do not insult me as a "joke", or approach me with any sort of overly familiar playful rudeness. I kind of hate how normalized just being ~ironically~ straight up mean to people is on here. No I probably won't read your sarcasm unless I've already memorized all your speech patterns or something

Mainly into: Rain Code (lol. lmao, even), Warriors, Akuma Kun, Mouthwashing, Henry Stickmin, birds, cat genetics and scraping pretty rocks off of sidewalks

Plural, we are not interested in assigning roles to each other or specifying our "origin" or how it all happened as it's not currently relevant to us nor is it any of your business like why do you care. Anyway this blog is safe for endos or like, any other type of plural.

Occasional nsfw posts under the #nsft tag, which will contain a bunch of hard kinks like torture rape violence etcetera, so, block that if you don't want to see those. That's also the only tag I consistently use on this blog.