#FOSPHERUS ▪ ▪ ▪ independent and selective multimuse, for various canon and original characters, primarily from works of fantasy, video-games and urban fiction. cross-over and duplicate friendly, please read guidelines before following. affiliated with : cautionarys & punkcopy. london gmt.
our torments may, in length of time, become our elements; these piercing fires as soft as now severe ! a narrative study in : those quixotic lullabies, finding faith in oneself through madness, demons as guardians, dismantling shame, embracing the bitter and the dark, monsters as lighthouses.
navigation : ¹ carrd. ² profiles. ³ memes.
▪ ▪ ▪ hello there! this is a private space where i write characters i'm bananas about. busy with work and classes throughout the week so patience is both expected and appreciated. reach out for plots and questions any time!
few guidelines : duplicates are entirely welcome. duplicate anxiety however is not. open to feedback, won't tolerate rudeness. any bigotry, islamaphobia, sexism, anti-semitism, zionism, and use of AI art will result in block.
accessibility request : i also request that colours, fancy letterings and double / triple spaces between words be avoided when writing with me. kindly soft-block when unfollowing and feel entirely free to re-follow whenever. gif by: eurodynamic. art: randomwip. psd by zer0psd.
literature :
▪ neil josten, all for the game.
▪ jem carstairs, infernal devices.
▪ jude duarte, folk of the air.
▪ lord severin, folk of the air.
▪ the darkling, grishaverse.
▪ adam parrish, the raven cycle.
videogames :
▪ kassandra of sparta, ac: odyssey.
▪ alice liddell, madness returns.
▪ messmer, elden ring.
▪ zagreus, hades.
▪ p, lies of p.
television :
▪ stefan salvatore, vampire diaries.
▪ vinsmoke sanji, one piece netflix.
▪ galadriel, lord of the rings.
animations & comics :
▪ jason todd, under the red hood.
▪ obi-wan kenobi, star wars.
originals :
▪ kazheir asghar, child of nox in the riordanverse.
▪ phira katsaros, child of aphrodite in the riordanverse.
▪ freydís sveinsdottir, skadi reborn in god of war.
▪ viziera khātun, janesyr from witcher inspired lore.
▪ farah hosseini, time-travelling vampiress.
▪ fowler blue, multiverse detective disaster.
private : the dragon, ha do-yeong, oliver marks, victor vale, andrew minyard, eivor wolfsmal, basim ibn ishaq, achilles, leon kennedy, nyx.
testing muses : radagon, lady maria, mohg, lucy kushinada, sephiroth, till.
hello gay people, thank you for your patience while i get to replies and drafts slowly. just a note to say i will be very sporadic until next week wednesday, busy with pride things and house stuff!
oliver's kindness was a marvelous thing. it was so sincere, so full and whole and tender — they weren't just special. they balanced each other out, james thought, and wondered if oliver saw that too as he worked, carefully discarding leather and running the tips of his fingers along calloused skin.
a smile curled at his mouth. the hearth fire crackled, and something akin to peace embraced them. ❛ must you thank me for being decent? you matter more than air, oliver. i shall always provide for you. that is my vow. ❜ he said this so simply, flipping oliver's right hand palm up and resting it in his. their eyes locked, brief, before james looked down again, focused wholly on his task. the gentle massage that followed was unhurried; he toyed with fingers, brushed the pads of his own down the heel of oliver's hand, his pressure measured.
only when oliver spoke again did james look up, but his ministrations never slowed. what met his eyes was beautiful. oliver's skin was flushed, and he was smiling, staying put just for him. the prince grinned. there was no changing oliver's selfless nature, but james hoped his beloved would learn to seize his own happiness, too. ❛ it does, so swear it to me, and reap the benefits. ❜ here he inclined his head slightly to indicate his work. the care. the affection. everything. if oliver put obligation aside and thought of himself more, this would be routine.
a barrage of sweet words came. james felt a matching blush creep down his throat and gave a little nod, almost shy. filled to the brim with feeling and lovesick hope. he then licked his lips and shifted focus to oliver's left hand, all loving steps repeated. unhurried still. why was he nervous? nothing ever made him nervous. the limbs he handled were warm; they made his pulse leap. quiet beats ensued before oliver had enough and grabbed his palms, clasping them.
james was tempted to chide, then. to tell him something about disrupting his flow. but it was hard to hold onto defiance now. instead, he listened with rapt attention as oliver began to speak, their fingers laced, wills aligned. everything perfect. but no resolution came. a sudden knock at the door broke the pair's focus, and where oliver's frown was boyish, his was sharp, a stinging blade. he let go of his beloved's hands, a curt signal to wait, and silently walked toward the window. the glass was fogged, scratches marring its surface. james tugged open the curtains just an inch and saw a passive silhouette. there was nothing urgent about its stance; just a late-night visit, then, but james wasn't interested. he ensured the door was locked still and returned to oliver's side, took his hands again and gave them a squeeze. outside, the wind blew, and boots scuffed gravel, murmurings he couldn't parse. the intruder was leaving. james fixed oliver with a smile. ❛ you were saying? ❜
in a dire fit, he wished he could answer in a deliberate show: yes, he must. he must thank him for without him, without the splendour of his own armour and the purpose it awarded him, oliver knew he was not meant for much. back home, in his father’s declining barn, he had been relegating to tending bored sheep and hens while his dreams of great stories and spoken adventures were far from his reach. day by day, his lessons had been reduced — they simply hadn’t been able to afford it nor invest in his potential that one day he might catch the eye of a more noble and wealthier purpose. had it not been for james, spotting his flailing limbs and gasping lungs amongst a throng of better built warriors ready to embark at the arisen’s call, he would have remained there, unworthy.
swallowing softly, he hesitates to answer immediately. it was not often he spoke out of turn. there was a higher chance that oliver could be seen reprimanding the other pawns for slouching instead. he held his tongue only for the matter that the arisen had insisted, and his grace was not exploited as he palmed oliver’s sore knuckles and made to wrap the skin scrubbed by terrain.
❛ and make your care a thankless effort? i do not think so, nor do i agree. ❜ his mouth had smiled, face flushed with a nervousness together with a shied happiness. ❛ and it is only because it means the world to me that i say it. ❜ he found himself staring and unable to look away. dare his mind wander past his gifted purpose and into the territory of man’s weakness, a cutting voice would chirp in his ear and remind him not to cross that bridge. thankful, he reminded himself. nevertheless, such glee remained short-lived, and soon become embittered as the door knocked with company. it was not until james himself had risen hand handled the busybodies that oliver spoke.
❛ those good for nothing hooligans. aught one to think this village has better things to do than hound one’s door at— ❜ he had begun to say, arms folded across his chest as his furrow-browed sneer landed on the closing door. but before he could speak more barbs, his eyes swung to where james took a hold of his hands again. he blinked, heart thudding painfully, and stepped closer. ❛ i— i was ... ❜ stumbling with his words, he swallowed thickly. ❛ may i ask you something, arisen? ❜ his expression mellowed. oliver felt no less unnerved by the untouchable before him when he spoke in a low whisper. ❛ why ... why did you pick me that day? ❜
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weighing morality against an angel wing feather. that's how it seemed some days that it was more a question of her against an ideal. death provided more confusion than clarity yet when she looked at him her condition seemed less a tragedy. not once did she believe him lesser for his state of limbo. caught in the in between, tormented due to lack of belonging. far from the same but she aches in the same ways he does — a longing for a future that was robbed from her. there is a piece of it there, lodged in his bones and every time she pulls in close is an attempt to excavate the unnamable want. gently goading her off the self-sacrificial ledge with a burning tongue and grabbing hands.
❛ whoa, whoa, is this your version of a big hero speech ? it's definitely not very pg of you. ❜ somehow it hurts to be on the receiving end of such genuine concern. years ago she pledge her body and soul to this. without question she risked it all because it was what was expected. no one had questioned the slayer doctrine, not even for her. for the second time today the stinging at the corners of her eyes threatens to manifest into full-fledged tears.
❛ i don't know how i used to do this without you. the scoobies — they might know about all this hocus pocus but they haven't lived it. not like me... not like you. ❜ one arm draped around his neck and the other raised over her gaze to wipe at any tears before they get a chance to fall. then she jolts in his hold, dark eyes suddenly swimming with possibility. ❛ wait! that gives me an idea, actually. maybe the only vampire we need is this one right here. ❜ pressing her index finger against the tip of his nose — mischief and certainty coming together in her touch.
❛ how well does that compulsion of yours work on your vegan, low carb diet? ❜
❛ i have a film degree you know, ❜ he said mischievously, because of course he did; his eyes went wide with false innocence at her teasing assertion of it and stefan held his palms up in mock surrender, glad for nothing but that for even a second he had made her smile. ❛ been practicing and waiting for the right time. ❜ those same palms now come around her body against him, fingers at the small of her back. he meets her in their bubble intimacy with a furrow-browed moment of tender sorrow to see the the brief glimpse of her teary eyes.
❛ world could fall apart tomorrow, and it won’t matter a thing to anyone if you get convinced you’re alone. ❜ she would have managed it for a long while he knew, and had so for the years she’d gone through this with a boulder on her shoulder. but the closer they were, eye to eye with every secret unfolding, he wanted to believe so desperately that it wouldn’t always be so bleak — he’d seen the sun for what it finally was with her, after all. ❛ i’m always gonna be here. ❜ he is seconds from kissing the underside of her jaw a second time when she jolts unexpectedly in his arms.
stefan leans back, blinking, as her face lights up like a circuit with an idea in tow. the fang-toothed face of curious surprise he makes at her is actually sincere this time too. finger to his nose, he frowns in thought and thinks, she was up to something, and it was a far more welcome sight than the gloom of an exiled douchebag haunting her. ❛ uh, i mean, it’s not bad. ❜ he had once persuaded a rabid dog to sleep rather than attack him in a fit of rage. granted, that had been in 1944, during world war two. ❛ been a while, we could try it out. but why? what’ve you got up your sleeve now? ❜
there is no pretence when august is around kassandra, nothing to hide or feels like august has to keep at bay. no, every single part of her feels at home here, even so far from the house she grew up in, solely because she knows in her heart of hearts that all parts of her are secure here, cherished, and that she could spread her fingers and find possibilities at the end of them. the way kassandra seems to instinctively give her room to simply be who she is, and offers her a world and a life to explore as if it is just up for grabs, undoes something in august that has been firmly confined to the place she hailed from for so long - for someone like her, who's always been there for everyone else, it is staggering and fantastical to have found someone who has such insight into her needs and desires, even her fears, that it flattens her. there is no pretence to how much kass means to her, how much she loves her, but if there is a competition for how it grows exponentially by the day then august is sure she'd come in first place easily.
it seems the world holds more surprises for her in store, because on the next day, after some truly crucial and wonderful hours spent in kassandra's embrace, half of august's smile is for the miles of land stretching out in front of them thought he other half is entirely there for kassandra's presenc by her side, her strong back and the impressive line of her shoulders making august feel ready for any kind of adventure that might await them, and it makes her remember what they talked about the day before. leaning far up on her toes, she nudges kassandra's shoulder with her chin and motions over where past the port the scenery grew hills like knobs down a spine. " max will be so jealous when i tell him about this. he loves to go hiking when the hills couldn't be more unforgiving. i don't know, something about that torture appeals to him. i'll already tell him all about that, " she says and then looks up at kassandra, eyes bright with curiousity. " can we go there first? or are they not as interesting? "
then she presses a kiss against kassandra's shoulder, where her chin was before, and rocks back onto the balls of her feet. an arm snaked around the other's waist, august lets her gaze roam around anaphi while around them a good bunch of kass's crew are getting ready for the business they have to conduct while they're docked or whatever else maintanance is needed from those that would remain on the ship. august is glad she doesn't have to, for all the beautiful expanse of ocean, she can't wait to have real land under her feet again. equipped with a bag that has room for her notes and jars for samples if she'd be able to get those, she can't wait to see with her own eyes what kassandra has told her about. " does it ever get boring - to arrive at these ports so many times? i can't even imagine; in truth i feel like my experience is spoiled already, because nothing could bore me when i am with you. " looking down the planks towards the port now, august decides she'd let kassandra go first and follow readily behind her, better to let the one between them with actual knowledge of their surroundings carve a path - not to mention august feels a little more relaxed under the span of kass's arm than anywhere else. " are you ever afraid, kass? like, even just once? a volcano is a pretty imposing thing by itself already, but you never seem scared. "
when the gentle weight of a chin rests at her shoulder, she turns her head, a grin shining there, and moves her arm instinctively to circle around the witch’s waist. drawing august close and nearly off her feet, kassandra presses her mouth to her cheek in endearment. ❛ when next we capture him, we must take him with us. this i will insist on, and self-torment is appetising — perhaps ships will grow on him! ❜ though she remains by the hub as her company begins to dock, she stands resolutely beside august, who was half-dwarfed by kassandra’s body and shadow. as she makes her request known, kassandra looks back at her again with her brows raised and surprise apparent. pressing her palm down on the other woman’s forehead, she tousled the front of her hair. ❛ if it is not interesting, then you will make it so. of course, we can go there first. ❜
the bustle begins when they move to depart. the ship would bank at the port and move further along as more vessels arrived. with barnabas instructed to dock closer to the shadows, kassandra moved down the plank with ease and held up a hand for august, helping her down. as they moved and talked, the village opened up before them — this was the less impressive side of the island, a simple fishing village with mediocre wealth. what she did see of interest and note, were the magma-stone sculptures on display. ❛ it can’t ever be too boring, ❜ she said, and carelessly let her arm droop around her lover’s shoulders. ❛ when it’s never the same. that is the way, for each time i come by, there is always something new that was not there before. ❜
she remembers speaking of it once to august, a story before their eyes had been too heavy to stay awake : a village down in naxos that had been a thriving business port in the cyclades for wine and concentrated paint. the temples of apollo and demeter stood as eyes and ears to this success. in a matter of days, it had been rendered immobile by a pirate assault, reduced to an unsanctioned black market. where once she had left making drunken friends, she had revisited it only months later to have a blade at her neck. ❛ ah— ❜ are you ever afraid? she debated for a long moment how to answer, her arm pulling august close as they circled towards the hill. most of her crew had stayed back, the quiet bustle of the village surrounding them. but in the brief silence she spoke.
❛ no. not anymore. for a mercenary, a volcano is a quick death. a dagger is painful but tolerable. there was nothing left to fear for me eventually. ❜ that had been her life as a child barely past the age of fourteen summers. it had been the same, time and time again, until something had changed and she looked now at the face of that change. her grave and distant seriousness flickered until she grinned, hand jolting august by the hip. ❛ until you. well! if i’m afraid of anything, it’s of you tripping into a volcano. how does that sound? ❜ soon, very soon, the plush brown sand they walked on would be traded in colour for an ashen grey. flickers of warmth would come in waves, until the mount of sleeping fire became visible.
don't mention it. james cocked a brow at lucy's indifference — an act that hurt — but inclined his head. he wouldn't mention it at all, but he couldn't help the pulse of concern he felt when he glanced her way. spiteful enough to hire someone to sift through his foes' dirty secrets, but james still had a heart. he could still be decent, staged heroics too rote and familiar to shake off. the actor took another long puff of his cigarette, holding it all in, letting it warm his blood, jade his nerves. when he exhaled, sighing out smoke, he laughed, too, a sudden amused huff. something wry in the sound and expression that curled his mouth long afterward.
❛ cowardice, then. ❜ a pause as the young man shook his head and turned toward her. ❛ i admit i ought've been more subtle, but i don't regret speaking up. what would you have done? ❜ this wasn't his bully, though— he wasn't acquainted with the unpleasant man who'd bruised his cheek; james farrow was projecting and he didn't even realize it. out of his depth, too used to sneaky betrayals, quiet barbs... not grit and bullets, violence that needed no translation at all.
the proof was in his face, too, in his expression, which warped when lucy went on, stating the obvious. shaking him awake and pointing him in the direction of reality. (his least favorite realm, as it were.) pride pricked his skin and he sniffed, chagrined, eyes dropping to the floor that stretched between them. there was no argument to be made here. lucy was right. the logician in him knew it, though he bristled all the same. ❛ right. i forget everyone's mindless nowadays. why talk when you can strike? ❜
❛ i would have not gotten punched. ❜ with a jerk of her fingertips, lucy flicked out the end of her cigarette. her mouth remained faintly twisted in an unmoved show of unimpressed pity. but if she had been as aloof and indifferent as she pretended obnoxiously to be, she would not have retaliated when the idiot of a man had struck james. with a curl of her fingertips, a quickhack to boot, and he had gone down faster than a shooting star. ❛ that’s the way. surely you can tell when a guy’s got bricks for brains and when one’s got circuits. better luck next time, romeo. ❜
with a tilt of her head, she regarded him and pressed the cigarette to her lips again. a long inhale before on the right side of her optics, a hologram of the time and the metro schedule appeared. ❛ cute. ❜ she drawled out the word before pulling away from the railings, flicking her cigarette away after one last unnecessarily long drag, before crushing it under her boot. ❛ alright, ‘nough chit chat. let’s get your dumb face fixed up before you make worse. ❜
her mouth flitted to a light smile, tired eyes looking ahead. with her fingers curling into his sleeve, lucy proceeded to drag him away from the railings and up the stairs towards the plaza. when they arrived at the metro pass, a blink of her eye gave them free entry. she pushed him down to a sitting and sat next to him, drawing out wet cloths from her pouch — meant for make up, not busted up boys.
[ 11PM ] the backseat of a car parked in the pouring rain on a lonely road. / verse 2 post-canon jamesoliver as actors ....
the downpour hadn't come gradually. one moment, they were driving through gentle drizzle, oliver humming, the streets slow for the late hour. the next, they were squinting, james grumbling, tugging the car to the shoulder and waiting for the onslaught to abate. the bulk of the couple's day had been taken up by auditions, shopping, and dinner— a hot shower and warm sheets called, but the ring was lost in the sound of the storm.
in the backseat, james was on oliver's lap, his right hand splayed gently upon the base of his throat, his left clutching his hair as he sucked marks onto smooth skin. before, during, and after their predictable scramble to this seat, james had told oliver how proud of him he was. how lovely and handsome he'd looked as he spoke lines into life and commanded the room that evening. then, he stole a kiss. two. three. four. mere pecks before his love grew strong enough to choke on, too vicious to ignore. he dragged a lip bruising kiss over his partner's mouth, sighed. trailed more along his jaw, tasted the salty dip beneath his chin, and was about to kiss his throat red when he thought he felt oliver tense beneath him. all at once james drew back, his thighs still bracketing the other's lap but his hands falling slack.
breathing hard, cheeks flushed, hair mussed and dress shirt askew, james stared at oliver, ran soothing palms over his heart. all around them was the sound of stubborn rain. it beat on the windows, it gathered in puddles on the street. it wouldn't ease for some time; the sky still had a lot to say. meanwhile, hamlet bit his bottom lip, and frowned. ❛ you're not enjoying this... you're distracted, aren't you? i can practically feel you thinking, ollie. ❜ was it nerves? the reading they'd attended had been for a large part, all eyes on oliver marks. ❛ what's the matter? ❜ worried fingers tapped along to the beat of @fospherus's pulse as he waited for an answer.
his heart stuttered in his chest, breath jerking out with disbelief and the unpleasant bite of guilt. for a moment oliver’s face was caught in the familiar headlights of shock, though age and time had mellowed the extremity of his expressions. after a beat, it softened with a furrow to his brows, his palms flexing along the bridge of james’ spine. a comforting gesture, albeit brief : his arms were quick to wound around the other man, drawing him close, as if he worried that james would leave from where he had gotten him. ordinarily, his mind had little to no trouble at all pushing away the worries or anxieties of the world in favour of only holding james in his mind’s eye. it had been like sinking into water, closing his eyes and letting his greedy fingers pull, tug, and dig into soft skin.
he had been less genteel than usual about his affection, letting his mouth wander across a warm throat and teeth snag softly at the bit of skin just beneath his lover’s jaw. there was always some twisted sort of underlying desperation that even two years together hadn’t faded. ❛ no! no, darling. ❜ something must have tipped james off that he was distracted still, his hands slow to wander under his shirt and his mind heated with the kind of uncertainty than seemed a figment between them now. and the thought worried him as much as it endeared him — who else could know him as well and instinctively as james did?
❛ listen to me. ❜ his hand jumped to cover james’ quickly where it rested over his heart, clinging to it and bringing it close with an apologetic kiss pressed to his wrist. ❛ i always enjoy this. i’m sorry, my mind wandered and— ❜ he felt his words fumble, and frowned lightly. with his other hand, he rubbed his thumb in circles on the bit of skin at james’ hip, though he wasn’t sure who he was soothing more, james or himself. he tried again to speak, and felt a meaningless ache when no words came out. what once would have struck him like a wound as a young boy, he merely sighed now. ❛ i use to be better at not looking at the audience. i’d memorised it all— the play. but when i was there and they were all looking at me, i felt like an unprepared fraud. ❜
