I'm a Brown SWANA & Jewish dude. First gen immigrant. Disabled & full of autism and bipolar, so please excuse my fluctuating activity. I love all things horror and mystery, some messy fictional dudes, and history.
BLOG RULES:
CONTENT WARNING ! There will be all kinds of dark and potentially triggering topics on this blog. Everything will be tagged accordingly as a plain ‘subject tw’ tag and all NSFW threads will be under ‘read more’. If you need anything specific tagged, don’t hesitate to tell me.
Some of my characters hold fascistic and imperialistic views, some can and will be casually violent, and some are generally shitty people in their own ways. I will never excuse any of my muses, nor will I follow anyone who does. But, I will write them in character and won't be toning them down. If this makes you uncomfortable, please, just don't follow me. Your characters are always welcome to hate them and be hostile towards them. I absolutely encourage this.
I won’t write any paraphilias, non-con, or CSA, as graphic depictions of these topics can be triggering to me, and won't follow people who produce such content. There will be no shipping with minors or underage characters. Otherwise, I’m chill with writing pretty much anything.
I will not interact with self-inserts, self-shippers, or people who rp as real people/celebrities.
Do not follow me if you post fandom/ship discourse and refuse to curate your own space. HOWEVER, racism, misogyny, homophobia, harassment, and abusive behaviour towards real humans is not ‘drama’ and I will never knowingly associate with people who perpetrate it. I won't follow/will softblock people fetishizing oppression, comparing video games to real life tragedies and injustice, and white people who soapbox through characters of colour.
Do not follow me if you follow any of these people: Miles (Poswiecenia) Bunny (Celestieu) or Valentine. All of these people have an extensive history of repeated shitty behaviour in multiple fandoms over the years and seeing them is distressing to me at this point. Their respective callout blogs are linked. I completely understand many people not liking dnis but this is non-negotiable for my comfort and you can avoid me if this is off-putting to you; no hard feelings.
Fandoms I won't interact with; FNAF, anything Vivziepop, Attack on Titan, Harry Potter, and Stranger Things. I am also not interested in interacting with any media aimed at children.
If I do something shitty OOC, I'm always receptive to criticism, learning, and ass-kicking if needed. There will never be any hard feelings from me regarding being unfollowed/blocked. I am very pro curating your own space and unfollow and block liberally and urge everyone to do the same.
I did genuinely plan to set up a blog and get back on here but sadly I just don’t have the time.
I have to be a big boy and accept that if I want to do more of something, I need to do less of something else. I have many fond memories of people I’ve met on tumblr and I’ve been rping on here over a decade, but I think this will be my indefinite hiatus.
I might come back, but right now, I’m busy with other creative pursuits and finally taking steps towards things I’ve dreamed of doing for years.
I’m keeping the blog cause I still enjoy peeking in and seeing everyone on occasion. : )
Hope you are all doing well. Wishing you guys all the best. ❤️
friendly reminder that Lucanis is very brown and tons of SWANA people have lived in Italy and Spain since ancient times & both of these countries have multiple indigenous groups.
"If I had a silver for every time my sister charmed an heir to a throne after defeating them in a duel or aiding them in battle, I'd have five silvers, which isn't much, but-"
"Actually, it IS a lot. It's kind of starting to add up."
"I heard you live in terror of one day accidentally incinerating your entire family due to your sheer incompetence with magicks you do not comprehend."
He has never lied to her, and as they gaze at each other unbroken — he, looking up, having knelt and sunken his weight down further onto his heel to rest; while she stands, amber eyes fixed down on him — she feels the pressing weight of its truth.
Her hand steals into his hair, cupping the back of his skull before her fingers tighten and curl into the strands. Softly she pulls downward, a gentle but firm motion, using his hair as leverage to tilt back until his chin is raised and throat exposed like a prey animal's submission. He offers no resistance to the motion, and she presents no guile. The grief on her face is raw and unconcealed, something she wants him to see. The scar there has healed but she remembers when it was fresh. She remembers. She had mourned.
I will come back from the dead for you.
The truth of this statement is written on his body with that wound as surely as any language and her free hand ghosts over the scarred flesh. It is coarse under her fingertips and she remembers the haunting rapture on his face before he had drawn the blade on himself. She remembers how the flowers were stained, and likewise her hands, with her helplessness and inability to heal him. Hardly either of their finest moments. Death is the most bitter failure. And yet he had persisted beyond.
"My dearest old friend, it is not returning to the star that I would have you defy," she breathes, tearing her gaze away from his neck and back to his inscrutable blue eyes. Perhaps his words had been meant as reassurance, to assert the unbreakable nature of their bond. But they are not enough. Not even with their sincerity, for this is not an offering that could satisfy her. She cannot go through this or its like, again.
Bethany lets go of her grip on his hair, relieving that pressure, choosing instead to cup his face with a tenderness. Light kisses are pressed to his cheek before she continues. "Do not return from death for me. I would have you not die at all. Refuse to be parted from me. Live." Perhaps there should be vulnerability in such candor but here in this moment they share, openness feels as natural as breathing. A desire to be laid bare runs though her, and she is uninclined to refuse it. A kiss to his other cheek. "Everything you have to offer, I want it all and in return I give you everything of me."
Perhaps it could be as simple as that.
Moments pass, measured in heartbeats. A steadfast organ offering proof of life in its steady rhythm. Her arms wind around his neck in a loose embrace and hang there, fingers brushing idly through his hair now, unlike the purposeful grip from earlier. "Sometimes, I think we were both born for destruction. We understand it, we wield it, it's in our blood. But you can't destroy me, and I won't destroy you, and within that I find a kind of… peace."
Such a thing may sound nonsensical, but a force can only be canceled out by its equal and opposite reaction. Counterparts that harmonize. She has faith that he comprehends.
Their shared artificial echoes resonate for a moment, granting him access to her inner world. It is unbidden but she allows it. A memory. The two of them in the royal gardens, seated on a blanket beneath the sunflowers she had planted - as far away from the foreboding Morbol enclosure as possible, of course - their thick unswaying stalks providing a veil from the outside. After all, children do love hiding places. They are seated together, her head on his arm as they quietly read. Or at least, Bethany reads in bursts in between peering out through the flowers for any errant servants seeking their missing prince. A simple moment that stayed with her fondly, though why it would be recalled at this time she cannot say. Other than, perhaps, proof there has always been so much more to them both than the violence they were shaped by.
The connection closes, though sweet nostalgia lingers. She can almost still smell those flowers.
"We had very little choice in our lives, you and I, but we chose each other as companions. That is a choice I stand by. I'll make it forever, if you will allow it. Be my solace, my hunger, my longing; always."
