Come one come all, I welcome you to this chaotic space I call my own. You may refer to me as Elysia for now, and for now all I ask is that you beware of where you tread within this library of thoughts and literature (*cough cough fanfics*)
About Elysia! Adult, She/Her, Ravenclaw, Mythology lover, Child of Poseidon, Sagittarius Sun, Pisces Moon, Pisces Ascendant, Reader, INTJ-T, 5w4, Engene, Lana Del Rey Stan, Selenophile, Astrophile, Daydreamer, TWST player, Manhwa reader, casual kpop listener, amateur editor, moodboard maker, Pinterest addict
Books! The Inheritance Games, The Lunar Chronicles, RiordanVerse, Harry Potter, The Song of Achilles, The Young Elites (though it is seldom talked about), Heartless, A Good Girls Guide to Murder, The Hunger Games, The Selection, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, The Invisible Life of Addie Larue, The Folk of the Air series, The Kingdom of Back, Five Survive, Secret Shanghai, The Reappearance of Rachel Price, The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea, If You Could See the Sun, Six Crimson Cranes, I Am Not Jessica Chen, The Naturals series, This Time It’s Real, Malibu Rising, I Hope this Doesn’t Find You, I Could Give You the Moon
Anime+Donghua!! My Hero Academia, Fairy Tail, Assassination Classroom, Fruits Basket, Danganronpa, The Seven Deadly Sins, Snow White with the Red Hair, My Next Life as a Villainess, Demon Slayer, Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun, The Promised Neverland, Hunter X Hunter, Maid Sama, Spy X Family, Oshi No Ko, Blue Lock, Jujutsu Kaisen, Link Click, Death Note, Black Clover, Sakamoto Days, Frieren: Beyond Journeys End, Windbreaker, The Apothecary Diaries, Charlotte, Code Geass
Manhwa! (Warning: I’m probably not caught up on any of these) Who Made me a Princess, The Way to Protect the Female Leads Older Brother, Death is the only Ending for the Villainess, The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass, I’ll be the Matriarch in this Life, Father, I don’t want to get Married!, The Villainess is a Marionette, Actually, I was the Real One, My Husband Hides his Beauty, The Strongest Characters in the World are Obsessed with me, Insos Law, Lillian of Turin, Becoming the Villains Family, How to get my Husband on my Side, Ashtarte, The Broken Ring: This Marriage will Fail Anyway, Dreaming Freedom, The Real Daughter is Back, The Reason why Raeliana Ended up at the Dukes Mansion, The Tyrant wants to Live Honestly, Second Life of a Trash Princess, Pure Villain, Sister, I am the Queen in this Life, How to Survive as a Maid in a Horror Game, The First Night with the Duke, To You Who Swallowed a Star, The Empress’ Lipstick, Never Ending Darling, Zero Game, Villain to Kill, Muse on Fame, Cierra, Seasons of Blossom, 66,666 Years: Advent of the Dark Mage, Go Away Romeo, Omniscient Reader, Wavering Worlds, See you in my 19th Life, Phone Addict, Men of the Harem, The Perfect Hybrid, Blood of the Butterfly, Your Throne, The Remarried Empress, School Bus Graveyard, Surviving Romance, Night of Shadows, I’m Stuck in a Crazy Drama, One Husband is Enough, The Fateful Invitation, To Whom it No Longer Concerns, The Villainess Just wants to Live in Peace, Obsidian Bride, Behind her Highness’ Smile, I Will Become the Villains Poison Taster, The Devil Raises a Lady, Let me Sleep, The Male Leads are Trapped in my House, My Daddy Hides his Power, Pyramid Game, Paradise on Earth, The Perks of Being an S-Class Heroine, How to Walk the Protagonist’s Path to Glory, The Baby Fairy is a Villain. The Script Shop of Dreams, A Good Day to be a Dog, Classmate, The Villainous Family is Against Independence, Bunker Days, July Found by Chance, The Princess Maid, Our Guilds idol
Manga! Even if you Slit my Mouth, Kasane, Brutal: Confessions of a Homicide Investigator, Phantom Busters, I Can’t Stop Doting on The Empires Greatest Villainess, Firefly Wedding, Endo and Kobayashi’s Live Commentary on the Villainess, The One Within the Villainess, Tamon’s B-side, Hi, I'm a Witch, and My Crush Wants Me to Make a Love Potion
Music! Lana Del Rey, Enhypen, New Jeans, Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Blackpink, Bts, Muiscals, Ren Zotto, Maneskin, Madison Beer, New:id, BINI
Currently!
Writing WIP(s): The Villainess’ Crown
Audiobook(s):
Online read(s): The Vile Village, One of us is Next, Clockwork Prince
Physical read(s):
Manhwa/Webtoon I’m catching up with: Revelation of Youth
1) Vaping is confirmed to cause cancer. Vaping coats the lungs with toxic substances, such as heavy metals and benzene, which are known to cause cancer
2) Many vapes contain diacetyl, which, when inhaled causes popcorn lung, or scarring of the lung
3) Ultrafine particles, when being inhaled, can be lodged in the trachea (not good!)
4) Ultrafine particles can also constrict the arteries in the lungs potentially causing A HEART ATTACK
5) Vaping is relatively new. Not much studies have been done in comparison to tobacco. Plus, the vaping companies are powerful people. There is a large chance that they are purposely downplaying and even burying any evidence that vaping is harmful - just like the tobacco companies before them. They do not care about you, or your health, or the truth. They only care for money
Please I’m begging yall as an asthmatic, your fruit-flavored vapor will still give people around you who are smoke-sensitive attacks. So will weed. Don’t do it inside; if you’re at a bus stop or something try to not stand right next to people or move downwind of them if you can.
I genuinely think Mouthwashing fandom is a good example on how real life misogyny is very wired on people brains and influenced how they engage with fictional misogyny.
You have a story about a woman being assaulted and telling a man she trusted but being dismissed because he is friends with the attacker, and people fixate on shipping her with either of those men.
You have a story about how men that downplay their male friends violence, assume neutrality is the safer option, unintentionally help create an environment that's unsafe to vulnerable people, at a risk becoming a victim themselves. And people make it about toxic yaoi.
You have a character kill herself because she didn't want birth the child of her abuser. And people make AUs where she happily keep the baby.
Misogyny isn't just "I hate women", it's also downplaying their trauma, defending those who caused it, and reducing them to mothers or wives against their wishes under this idea of what womanhood is about.
I don't think we can separate fandom misogyny from it's real world influence, not yet.
I just caught up with the Tamon’s B-side manga so I really wanted to finally get to watching the anime. But the fairy gala remix event is about to end and I need to farm lessons for it.
So now the twst boys are watching Tamon’s B-side w/me cause all I have is my phone to watch on rn.
; yandere, this is based on a cliche trope so do with that as you will, pathetic phainon but #he gets his way, plot device sunday, manipulation, brief mention of self-harm + suicide threat (it's used as a manipulation tactic), proofread to the best of my ability...
; becoming enamoured with phainon is an inevitability that you had no chance of ever resisting. but it stings how he'll never see you beyond a dear friend from kindergarten. the moment you move on, however, begins a shift in your dynamic with him -- he wants you back, desperately so.
; push-and-pull trope with phainon. oneshots masterlist can be seen here.
I. Love is a bitter fruit grown from trees.
“I’m Phainon! What’s your name?”
The first time you met him, his small hand reached out, waiting for you to take it. You did.
A duo is often composed of an extrovert and an introvert: at the age of seven, you knew full well who was who between you and your newfound friend, Phainon. He has a birthmark resembling that of the sun located at the side of his neck. It suits him well, you can’t think of anything but the sun when describing him. He shines like one, is warm like one, and basks everyone with his golden presence like one.
You wondered often: If he is the sun, then what would that make you?
Ideally, you’d be the complementary moon for him. During childhood, you tried to force it down your own throat by using the yellow crayon for him, and the blue one for you in your schoolwork doodles. Sun and moon, yellow and blue, light and dark – phainon and you. Growing up a bit more, you soon came to realise that you are no moon.
You’re more of a sunflower who basks in his sunlight and greedily soaks up all his affection. You’d hate to be the moon, for this meant you’d only rise when Phainon is gone – you prefer staying right by his side, a sidekick he can always count on.
A sidekick wearing your heart on your sleeves, shy but never quite ashamed of the sincere feelings you’ve held for him growing up. A flower bud that slowly unfurls into a full bloom.
As your mother would lovingly refer to you both, you are: “Two birds of a feather!”
Your childhood memories of Aedes Elysiae, blurry some of them may be, are bathed in everlasting gold. While Phainon dragged you off to go play heroes or look through Cyrene’s cards together, you remember dropping pollen of your romantic affection, scattered across planes of time like trails of breadcrumbs left for him to decipher.
While the sun dipped into the horizon, you inched closer to him day by day, the fluttering in your heart evolves into a palpitation you can never stop, and small gifts handcrafted to show your admiration all gently whispered to him to ‘please, take the hint’. But reminiscent of an immovable stone, Phainon remained blissfully oblivious to the signs.
Cyrene certainly got them; her narrowing eyes and poorly hidden giggles as she sent you and Phainon away were enough of a testament. “I’m not feeling well today, you two can go on without me!”
You’d linger at the edge of her front yard, unsure how to proceed with her help. At Phainon’s call however, you move to follow him – “okay, phai!” – trying to contain the dandelion seeds dancing around in your stomach when he leads you by the arm, not letting go despite arriving at your destination. You didn’t want to let go either, even with the sweat building up in your palm.
High school sprouts in your backyard as a tall and looming beanstalk that would force you both to grow up even more.
Phainon’s high-pitched voice starts cracking like eggshells, making way for a deeper tone yet still carrying that warm lilt he always had. You grow taller, still incomparable to Phainon’s own growth spurt, but a good few inches nonetheless. Your sense of style reshapes itself, old interests thrown out for newer ones, and the patch of land where you’d all play heroes together becomes forgotten, the trampled blades of grass outgrowing their original length.
You start favouring the comforts of your room over the blazing heat of the sun, beginning to find sweat as something you can’t stand and only coming out when Phainon pleads with you to do so.
He shines brighter in High School – his presence a beaming beacon of light as he walks through the hallways and enters classrooms. Being the sunflower that you are, you faithfully stayed by his side. Fawning crowds come and go, you don’t.
Your infatuation is exposed to those who aren’t Cyrene; childish people who never grew past the mental age of twelve tried to pick on you for always ‘Sticking to phainon like some damn leech! Don’t have any other personality traits or something?’ – the teasing didn’t last after Phainon punched one of them square in the face. His heroic act only dug your cove of feelings a little bit deeper.
He’s your best friend and first love, a pillar of comfort you grew up with – you can’t imagine your life without Phainon. You pick up more hobbies, he joins more clubs he never expected he would, and you share your new life experiences with each other during lunch. Sometimes separated, but never for too long.
Several months flicker by, and during one of your high school Valentine’s, you received gifts from men who aren’t just Phainon.
Despite his locker overflowing with pink, glittery love notes and heart-shaped chocolates handmade out of sincerity, his gaze was pinned to the white envelope and bouquet of flowers you carried - neither of them is from him. His own gift is already hanging off your backpack, the cute sunflower keychain that it is.
“From a friend?” He asks, finally closing his locker before he risks more glitter explosions on the ground.
“I doubt it,” He’s the only friend you have in this school, embarrassing it is to admit. Cyrene studies elsewhere. “But they’re cute.”
You see his tongue in cheek, and you dare let a seed of hope plant in the root of your heart. Is he… jealous? That makes you giddy. Tentatively, you ask, “You think so too, right, Phainon?”
He grimaces, glancing one last time at the items in your embrace before smiling, “Yeah, they are. Anyway, done with your locker? Let me carry your bag now.”
You nursed that seed of hope from then forth, slowly but steadily hoping more and more for the plausibility that he returns your feelings. It wouldn’t be too far off, surely – even if you’re not meant for each other in the end, you still want to try with him. You water that seed by dropping more subtle hints to Phainon, and you fertilize it by observing your best friend like an animal in a zoo, analyzing his minuscule actions and trying to correlate them to the mannerisms of ‘a guy with a secret crush on his best friend’.
To be young is to be naive.
You didn’t need much. A simple ‘you should go for it! I’ve been rooting for you two since we were all children!’ from Cyrene carved out your decision to confess to Phainon near the end of high school.
In the end, ripped straight from the dramas you watched out of curiosity, you confess to Phainon at the height of spring after getting your high school diplomas; the scent of flowers in full bloom makes you sick with nostalgia and nerves simultaneously. Your family is off conversing with his parents, while you dragged him to a secluded spot in the school.
“Uhm… I’ve liked you for a long time now, Phainon. I’m not expecting you to return my feelings but…” You leave it open-ended, too afraid to settle your confession definitively. You love him, actually - but love is a strong word that some don’t like to acknowledge. For his sake, you won’t either.
A warm, gentle spring can never stay for too long. In the same breath, you, too, are forced to abandon the sunlight you’ve known for several years at the sound of his discordant chuckle – the awkward smile etched on his face as his eyes could only look down at you in what you assume to be pity. You avert your gaze from his blue eyes, opting to stare into his birthmark instead.
“Hey, of course I like you too - you’re my best friend! But we can always stay as friends, (Y/N). You’re dear to me, you know – maybe not… like that, I just don’t want things to change between us.”
You experience the first and biggest heartbreak of your life just hours after graduating from High School. Your best friend Phainon does not reciprocate your feelings and instead wishes for your relationship to stay the same, locked into the tight box of ‘close friends’ he never plans on breaking. The seed-turned-plant of hope in your heart withers down to a sad, pathetic, dried-out flora.
That’s okay. You’ll be attending the same college as him, located far, far away – even if it’s not, you have to be okay.
After a few tense seconds of utter silence, you smile – the most carefree smile you can muster in that moment before enthusiastically nodding at him, “I get it! Don’t worry, Phainon. I totally get it. Uh, hey, I think Cyrene’s calling me. I have to take this phone call for a bit, okay? Let’s meet again later!”
You bury that confession six feet under in your backyard, covered and only seen by inches of soil as you maintain your close friendship with Phainon. Best friends, close friends, friends - you are not to cross these labels unless you want to lose your close companion.
The months of free time leading up to college are nothing unusual, you spend it as you would in the past: Phainon picking you up on the front porch to spend the entire day together. It’s either his or your room where you’ll pour sweating buckets over study materials and banter over multiplayer games on his console.
Your heart still beats like drums just being in his vicinity alone, and it took you days of preparation to act like you’re unbothered when he invites you to his room – the walls and shelves containing time capsules from years before. Pressed white daisies you gifted him on his 10th birthday peeks out as his bookmark, and your kindergarten doodle of him as the sun proudly hangs above his bed, displayed as if it’s an artifact from the Belobog museum.
The most heartwrenching item is the printed photo sitting on his desk: it’s little him kissing little you’s frosting-smudged cheek at your 10th birthday party. The shock on your face is captured and frozen in time, a memory you both laugh about every month or so. 10th birthday… It’s the same age you realized you see him as more than a friend.
Seeing it for the umpteenth time never fails to steal the air from you; the ache never gets easier. You wish you could truly put these romantic feelings to rest in a coffin and seal it shut with a lid, never to be opened again.
“Phainon, next time… let’s spend the day in my room.”
Seeing bits and pieces of you scattered around his room hurts more than him verbally rejecting you.
He grins, all teeth and gums, “Sure!”
Even branches grow into a tree of their own, just as a fledgling must leave its nest.
Spring came and went, high school a chapter closed, and you’re now faced with attending school – college, you remind yourself – an ocean away from the familiar warmth of Aedes Elysiae. The wheat fields that were once taller than you, and Phainon’s house right next door, are all left behind momentarily. You can’t pocket your hometown to bring with you in Penacony, but at least you still have Phainon.
“Everything all settled?” He gently lets go of your dorm’s wooden table, finally in its correct position, “This layout is fine, right?”
“It is,” You hand him a towel, itching to help with wiping off his sweat, “Thanks, Phainon. You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to, anything for you.” Anything for his dear best friend. He bumps your side before sitting down on the living room couch. You wanted him to stick around for a while longer, but he’s already out your door the moment he hears knocking – (‘Oh, your roommate is here! I need to go now, remember to call me if you need help, okay?’ he pats your shoulder on the way out).
The patch of skin he briefly touched is still tingling when you see someone walk into the living room, luggage trailing right behind. A tall man with shoulder-length gray hair and kind yellow eyes bows at you in greeting. He’s wearing a white cardigan with a blue sweater layered on top, the color alone reminds you of your best friend despite the difference in shades.
“Hello, pardon my sudden entrance.”
“...Hi.” You don’t know how to talk to people beyond Phainon and Cyrene - standing around here is making you shy. “Uhm, my name is (Y/N)... And you are…?”
“I am Sunday,” His hand extends for a handshake, and you hesitantly follow suit. “It’s nice to meet you. I sincerely hope we get along.”
You nod, staring back into pools of liquid gold while shaking his hand, “...Yeah, let’s. And please don’t mind the succulents on the windowsill.”
II. A close-knit friendship withers in winter, in its place is a new one.
Much to your relief, your late-night fears of college drifting you and Phainon apart never come to fruition. It has the opposite effect, to your surprise. While not overdramatically countries away, Phainon’s dorm room is located a floor above - a notable difference from when he lived right next door to you. The added distance often has him visiting your dorm room unprompted (you kindly gave him a spare key in case of emergencies) and easily greeting a confused Sunday who just finished his classes for the day.
“Call me your third roommate – don’t worry, I help around!” He’d joke. Using your headband to push his hair back, wearing a baggy tee and gray sweatpants, he makes himself at home. Sometimes doing his own homework or brings his gaming laptop along.
After the initial surprise, Sunday doesn’t mind his company – you certainly don’t.
Phainon waits for you outside your room to walk you to your class. He makes sure you sit next to him in the classes you share. He insists you join the same org as him, and predictably, you do.
You thought you buried your less-than-platonic feelings in your backyard; you truly did. But Phainon has your heart racing in excitement, rekindling the dying plant of hope. You still like him – truthfully, you never stopped liking him. But he’s closer to you now, a feat you previously thought to be impossible. The distance of just one floor away makes the heart grow fonder. Dare you say, clingy?
But he still remains your best friend. A clingy, touchy one – but your best friend.
Sunday discusses the topic on a slow, school-less night. You’re in the living room finishing up the last plates needed to be washed when he suddenly chimes in, tone so sure of his words, “Ah yes, I remember now. Please tell your boyfriend to stop entering our dorm past 11 PM. The faculty recently deployed a curfew; it’s best we follow it.”
The ceramic plate in your grasp almost crashes headfirst to the floor. Out of embarrassment, you refuse to turn around and face your roommate. Boyfriend. Boyfriend – only one person is a repeat visitor in your dorm room, and he’s nowhere near being your boyfriend.
Meekly, you set the plate down and correct him, “I’ll inform him, but… Phainon isn’t my boyfriend.”
The silence that wafts through is more humiliation added onto your person. What is Sunday’s facial expression right now? Shocked? Ashamed?
He answers it for you: “I see… This is quite mortifying, my sincere apologies.”
But he continues, “You’re both seen together, and he visits you so often, not to mention the look you give him, I got the idea that…– I’ll be sure to be more observant in the future. Again, my apologies.”
You’re wiping the table clean when you reply, still angling your face away from his eyes, “It’s cool, don’t worry! No harm done! He and I are best friends, yes… the bestest of friends!”
You feel him raise a brow at that, “I don’t mean to pry, however…”
Cyrene always chided you for being a pushover to those around you. In this instance, you hear her disapproving frown when you fold like a wet blanket, “Whatever it is you’re thinking –! I-it’s probably right.”
Wilted sunflower that you are, you mournfully face him with your eyes cast to the floor.
“Ah. You like him?”
You slowly nod, a small part relieved that you now have someone other than Cyrene and Phainon to confide in. “Don’t tell him, please…”
“I won’t.”
His bird-patterned socks enter at the edge of your vision. You slowly look up. Sunday is smiling at you, although a bit tense.
“Perhaps it’s a bit presumptuous of me considering we’ve only known each other for months, but… They say I’m a good listener. If you don’t mind, could you tell me more?”
Sunday is a Borage you unknowingly planted, only just now peaking when you need him most. Sitting side by side on your dorm’s small couch, you gain an outsider’s perspective on your years-long pining toward your best friend. He hears of your rejection and your still-persisting feelings. In the end, the advice he offered to you is:
“He may not be stringing you along, but you still foster optimism in your heart. So long as you have it, you will never move forward past him. If you ask me… confess your love a second time; see if his opinion has changed.”
You gulp, “And if it doesn’t?”
He smiles, gentle as clouds, “Broaden your horizons permanently. Distance yourself if you must; your friendship will pick up once you settle your feelings.”
Winter break is soon; you’ll need to go back to Aedes Elysiae in a few months’ time. However…
“If it’s not too much. A-and I understand if you don’t want to! But, could I ask you to…”
Sunday’s words continuously ring in your mind, repeating circles of “confess your feelings” and “move on,” bouncing off of one another. Coincidentally, Sunday is out for the afternoon when Phainon barges in a week later. Something about groupmates and ‘I wish you were in my group’ going one ear and out the other as you nod at him in autopilot.
He picks up on your unusual behavior not even ten minutes in: brows raised to the sky and eerily getting close and personal with you, surveying your face like it’d shed off all the information he wanted. He retracts a few seconds later, less joking when he inquires, “Something on your mind? Missing Aedes Elysiae?”
Hanging out in your small room like this, laptop opened to play some pirated action movie, and his class notes scattered around your bedsheets like autumn leaves…
You shake your head, feeling the moment to follow Sunday’s advice is now. This is the perfect timing – no one else around to see your heartbroken face for a second time, and no Cyrene to find out you’re still hung up on him.
“Phainon, I…”
He shuffles closer to hear you better – traitorously, your heart clenches in affection.
“Yeah?”
You take a deep breath, screwing your eyes shut, “I think I still like you.”
You downplay your feelings for the sake of self-preservation.
His breath hitches, “Ah, that’s–”
“I’m sorry.” You apologize, remorseful at how uncomfortable he must be right now, “I really tried, but…” A deep breath, “I’ll move on from you soon, I promise.”
“Oh,” He pauses, staring anywhere but you, “Uhm… sure… I’m glad to have you, you know?”
You nod, too fragile to face him.
“...You’re my first and dearest friend. I truly, really liked you, Phainon.” You love him so, so much.
“You’re dear to me too, (Y/N). Forever and now.”
You’ve heard of an overseas concept where a person in an unrequited love begins to sprout flowers from within. You feel like that’s happening to you right now with how unbearable heartbreak is – yellow carnations form from your bleeding heart, wormwood seizes your lungs in a tight embrace, and pink roses mix with your innards. You’d cough out the feeling if you could; empty your stomach from all the flowers and be done with it.
Predictably, he’s quiet for the rest of the movie – immediately coming up with an excuse to leave your dorm room once the end credits begin rolling in. You break down into tears the moment the lock clicks in place. You cry for hours, long enough for Sunday to come knocking on your door, just knowing you managed to do it when he readily offers you one of his giantmoa pudding tarts.
Eyes puffy and snot stubbornly running down your nose, you take a bite and thank him through a mouthful of pastry. It’d taste better if you weren’t so heartbroken. He gently rubs your shoulder in comfort.
“It’ll be alright.”
He’s right– But Phainon has always been by your side, rain or shine. The following months of his absence from your life will be akin to traversing a dark forest with no light source.
But there’s light at the end of the tunnel; a rainbow at the end of the storm. When Sunday bans you from helping with chores that night, you know your heart will heal in time.
“Thanks a lot… sunny.”
He sighs in mock exasperation, “I see you’ve picked up on that nickname too.”
The sun: Hey
The sun: I came by to pick you up, but for some reason, your roommate’s lying?? He said you’re not going back to aedes elsysiae this winter break??? And even denied me entry???
The sun: crazy right
The sun: I’m right outside waiting for you rn
The sun: do you need help packing up? :)
You: No
You: He’s telling the truth.
You: I won’t be visiting for now. Maybe next semester break?
The sun: what
You haven’t read his one-word reply when your phone screen transitions to his contact photo with the text ‘The sun is calling…’ displayed below. You sigh, reluctantly sliding to accept.
Even with speakers turned off, you hear him without pressing your phone against your ear: “What do you mean? Did something happen? Don’t tell me you and Auntie got into a fight…! Don’t worry! I’ll act as the middleman like usu-”
“Uhm, Phainon.” You cut him off.
“Yeah?”
“It’s nothing like that, please don’t worry.”
He makes a sound of confusion, painfully close to a whimper, “So then… why aren’t you visiting our hometown with me?”
‘Because you’ll be there’. “I’m busy with some personal matters here, don’t worry about me. Say hi to Snowy for me, okay?”
“No, I’m absolutely worrying about you – why not? We can visit them next week instead if you’re busy! Why… why miss out on the entire winter break? Won’t you be lonely here?”
“No need, really! Enjoy aedes elysiae for me. And I won’t be lonely… so stop worrying so much, you softie. I have sunny with me.”
“Sunny…? Your… roommate? Sunday? He’s staying here for winter break, too?” He sounds choked up from disbelief; you’d laugh if you weren’t battling against your resurfacing feelings from talking to him on the phone. “Sunday?”
“Yes, he’ll take care of me. I swear!”
“...”
“...Phainon? Hello?” Did the call end already? You glance at your screen, frowning in confusion when you see that the call is still ongoing. Is he lagging on his end? But he’s outside of your dorm.
“If you need anything,” He suddenly speaks up, “Anything – call me, please. If your roommate makes you sad or uncomfortable, tell me right away, okay? I’ll call you again the moment I’m back in aedes elysiae. Stay safe, I love you.”
You flinch at his admission, knowing he didn’t mean it like that. “I know… safe travels, Phainon.”
“Phai.”
“Huh?”
“Call me Phai. Isn’t that what you used to call me when we were kids? Why’d you stop? Let’s bring it back.”
You lie on your bed, pondering. Why did you stop? Perhaps since it was a nickname from childhood, you let go of it and hoped Phainon would see you more than just… his friend since diapers. It didn’t work, clearly. So you don’t mind calling him that shortened version of his name again.
“Okay… Safe travels, Phai.”
Despite your emboldened decision to ask Sunday to stay with you for winter break, you are still, at your core, a floundering, unsociable person. You have your moments of being bold and talkative, but it’s covered by leaves of quietude and slight stutters. Socializing is not your strong suit. You’re not at the stage of being totally buddy-buddy with your roommate, but you’re slowly getting there.
You’re glad you met Sunday. Had it not been for him, you’d still be stuck hopelessly waiting for a day that’ll never come: a phantom of the past who’s deathly afraid of the future.
In the span of your one-month winter break, you get to know him better. Your roommate, who’s a good listener is also an older brother to an idol trainee, has a trio of friends who roomed together a floor below, likes sweet treats, and ran away from his adoptive home after graduating high school.
Your profound respect for him only continued to grow, stalking across your shared living space like vines. While Phainon’s frequent messages, consisting of photos of Snowy and with your family, make your heart twinge in longing, you start ignoring them for the sake of progress. He’ll understand why a year from now, and you’ll both laugh about it like the pair of best friends that you are.
It’s not college that severs you and Phainon – it’s you yourself, but cutting off a branch from your tree does not mean it’s not allowed to grow a new one elsewhere.
III. Regret burgeons when everything is said and done.
Phainon: I feel like you’ve been ignoring me lately
Phainon: did i upset you?
Phainon: :(
The Gen Ed courses you took unfortunately landed you in some shared classes with Phainon, the ‘sunny’ side is that they’re coincidentally shared with Sunday and his friends too. While anxious to meet them, he thoroughly reassured you that they’re nice people.
“Just a bit… loud sometimes, I hope you don’t mind.”
You don’t – anything to physically get away from Phainon. The one-month winter break may have taught you to rely on him less, but seeing his face again might cause you to fold like paper. You see his unanswered texts when you close your eyes, and you hear his voice right before falling asleep. You miss him, but you know what must be done. When he visited you on the day he left Amphoreus, you and Sunday worked together to pretend that no one was home when he came knocking.
He stayed for hours before going up to his own floor.
Sunday sits on your left, and Stelle (A kind woman who is equal parts loud and quiet) on the other. Your new acquaintances, Dan Heng and March, are a row ahead.
“I’m telling you, (Y/N)! His nickname really is cold dragon young!” March cackles in glee, making sure to point at Dan Heng in case you mistake him for someone else.
He sighs, pushing down her finger, “That was years ago, ignore her.”
Stelle chimes in, lazily putting her arm around your shoulder and whispering, “Because he had a gachalife phase.”
Cold dragon young hisses at her to shut up, only to serve as fuel for their cackling. Entertained, you let out a few quiet chuckles at their display. You can never be happy for too long – the classroom door soon creaks open, familiar tufts of white hair peeking in not a moment later. The realization that it’s undoubtedly Phainon has you clammoring in your seat, sitting rigidly in attention.
Sunday gently rubs your back, eases you back to your current circle, “Sorry…!”
“It’s okay,” Sunday whispers back, sharing a glance with you.
“Ah, (Y/N)! There you are! …And everyone too, hello!” Phainon greets from up front, hastily picking up his pace to approach your group. Facing you, he wastes no time firing question after question, “Where were you yesterday? I waited around and tried the key you gave me, but it never worked. Did your phone break? I couldn’t contact you at all, I was so worried!”
You smile at him, “Phai, it’s nice to see you again. Sorry, we replaced our door lock with a new key for uhm… security reasons, I’ll try to get you a copy sometime. And no… my phone isn’t broken, I was just busy, that’s all!”
He audibly sighs in relief, “...Really? That’s good, I’m glad – I missed you a lot, you know?” Adjusting his bag strap, he nods to the unoccupied seats in the first row, “Come on, let’s sit.”
Stelle speaks for you, “Oh, she’s sitting with us.”
“Hm? Right! Thank you for taking care of my best friend, but we’ll get going now–”
“No, I mean she’ll be sitting with us for this class.”
Phainon cocks his head, “Sorry, can you repeat that?”
You meekly affirm, “I’m… sitting with them. Uh, they’re really nice people, Sunny introduced me to them!”
“Huh?” He looks like a lost puppy on the verge of being abandoned, “...But our seats?”
“I’ll try to sit with you next class!”
You never do: you sit next to Sunday in every single one of them and ignored the bewildered look on his face each time.
He beelines for you after dismissal, blue eyes so eager and pleading when he asks you, “Let’s get dinner together – my treat? It feels like I haven’t seen you in centuries.”
Only for you to scratch the back of your neck while shyly glancing at Sunday, “Uhm… we already made plans after school. Sorry, Phai.”
“Oh.” He steps back, letting you and Sunday pass by him to exit the room. His blue eyes follow you until they can no longer. He’s left with himself when he mutters a bitter:
“I get it.”
“Let me carry that for–Ah, Sunday…?”
He’s a second too late, but Phainon stubbornly clings to your bag’s front pocket, the very bag that the other man is already carrying. You’re still in the bathroom when the professor dismisses the class. Wanting to do his usual duties, Phainon intended to carry your bag, but… someone already beat him to it. He smiles at him, polite, “Thank you friend, but this is my thing, if you’d kindly–”
Sunday’s lips curve into what seems to be a subtle mocking smile. He adjusts the bag closer to him before replying in a composed manner, “How chivalrous of you, Mister Phainon. However, it’s not needed. See? I can carry it for her.”
Phainon sees it as clear as day.
Childishly, Phainon thinks he can carry it better than he can. It’s what he always did for you since he still had some front teeth missing from his smile; it’s his duty, not your roommate’s.
He reluctantly lets go when you come up to thank Sunday, blatantly ignoring him just a few feet away. He enthusiastically greets you, but he still exists as an imaginary concept in your eyes. What’s going on? He ponders, watching you chat the world away with Sunday. What happened before that winter break that caused you to grow so tremendously close to that guy?
You said you’d give him a new copy of your dorm room, but you’re ignoring his texts, his existence, and now – letting someone else do his usual tasks. Seriously, what gives?
Sunday’s like a parasite attached to your hip, it unnerves and angers him.
Are you… trying to replace him? His heart threatens to drop just thinking about it.
You are.
You really are trying to replace him.
Sunday sits next to you, Sunday lives with you, Sunday eats with you, Sunday talks with you, Sunday texts with you, Sunday laughs with you – Sunday, Sunday, Sunday. Every time Phainon is graced with your presence, it’s quick to sour from your notable companion by your side. Your new circle of friends too, Phainon sees it clear as day: you don’t want to be around them all the time, but you’re peer pressured into doing so. If Phainon was by your side… he would never let that happen to you. He’d punch them into blindness should they dare to make you inconvenienced.
Two birds of a feather – that’s what your mother called him and you; A pair of friends so close you might as well be surgically joined together in the middle. When Seven-year-old Phainon first reached his hand out to you, his brain made the unconscious decision then: you’d be the sole irrevocable part of his life. Flowers bloom and wilt; they experience a death of their own, but under Phainon’s sunlight, he promised that he’d never let a sunflower like you be anything less than thriving.
He leads and you follow, only so he’d be the one to be hurt when braving the unknown. Scraped knees and bruised patches of skin are nothing because you’re not hurt. He shines so you can comfortably hide under the shade – you’re not one for people, he’s fine with the way you are. He adjusts around your existence, a mold of comfort that perfectly fits none but you. He’s your fighter and protector; sword and shield.
Skipping rocks on a nearby lake, teasing Cyrene together, learning from her cards, and discovering a poor abandoned puppy who’d eventually be named ‘Snowy’ are all flashing strings of gold in his memories. Moments carefully planted in his own backyard and given regular maintenance lest he start neglecting them.
He loves you, of course he does. There is nothing purer in this world than his love for you; a flower specially nursed and plucked with the greatest care, a beauty unparalleled for it’s fertilized from the attention you give him.
His room is centered around you; every item given is meticulously stored and given a special place. The polaroids, your kindergarten doodles, the yellow crayon you gave him, your pressed flowers – he still has it, even brought it along to his dorm room, where he’s embraced by your presence every night before sleep.
He loves you, he knows this well in his heart. But Phainon is simply not worthy of you. His love for you is pure, but he, as a person, is not. A Sun can also be damaging to a sunflower – he is the filth to your pure, the actual darkness to light.
Is it because he refused your confession?
He preserves you because no one in this world deserves you, but must you go ahead and leave him for dead after finding a different sun to seek sunlight from? Sunday… What does he have that Phainon does not? Is he the better him? Does he treat you kinder than he does?
Sunday is far from holy. If anything, he’s the snake trying to lure you to ruin. You don’t know any better, hence why Phainon is around to protect you.
This is the biggest hurdle you’ve ever faced together, and with his heart being torn to pieces by your own gardening tools, he’ll make it right. He always goes. He’ll make it right, he’ll get you back, and you two can go back to the way you were before – just more. Friends, best friends, lovers, and everything in between, he’ll really give it all to you.
Sunday… he’s poisoned your mind and rotted your pure soul.
IV. Desperation is a seed planted long, long ago – still, spring has come.
“Thank you for sticking around me, Phai.”
He’s in the middle of starting a pathetic fire using twigs and stone when you blurt out cryptic words beside him. He hums, continuing his work, “What do you mean?”
“Can’t I just say thank you!?” You fluster, quickly standing up and pacing around the edge of the forest you’ve both designated as your ‘camping spot’. “Mama said it’s nice to thank people! So, uhm- Thank you for being my friend, please never stop being my best friend!”
“‘Course I won’t!” Phainon toothily grins, fluffy white hair gaining a slight bounce from his motions, “Actually, I’ll never abandon you. Ever!”
You perk up like a sunflower dancing in the wind, “Really!?”
The fire finally sparks to life, small and flickering, but there. At the same time, he gazes deep into your eyes, only knowing nothing else but sincerity at such an age, “Yeah! I swear!”
A yelp, “Swearing is bad!”
Phainon’s eyes blearily blink open. His dorm room ceiling greets him first thing in the morning.
Phainon stalks and waits like a deep-rooted willow tree. He strikes you when he knows you’re alone. It all falls into place: Sunday’s trainee sister is dropping by a different part of the city over the weekend; logic dictates that he won’t be coming back to his dorm room until then. Your close proximity to Sunday will momentarily halt, and Phainon is free to slither in.
He’s waiting right outside your dorm room when you come walking down the long hallway, body language all languid, even resting against the paint-chipped-off stone pillar while scrolling through his social media feed,
You’d spot him a mile away, and seeing him without Sunday by your side makes you hesitate all the more. Your stupid heart starts speeding up.
“I just want to talk,” He calls out, pocketing his phone to spread his arms wide open for a hug, “I miss you, is that too much to ask?”
You slowly approach him, “...No, I missed you too.”
You miss him. You miss him. You miss him. You’ve been holding your sunflower keychain as your nightly comfort or else you’d end up calling his number at 2AM.
Phainon smiles, “Really?”
“Yes… I just got… busy, that’s all.”
He smiles wider, blue eyes turning into blue crescent moons, “Really?”
“...Yes.” His hand gently pries the keys out of your hand; you let him.
You hear Sunday screaming on your shoulder, telling you that your blase facade is quickly falling apart at the seams. Unaffected, unmoved – you’re nothing of the sort right now. You’re a sunflower who’s been starved of sunlight for too long.
With a click, he opens the door for you and softly murmurs, “You’ve been hurting me a lot, (Y/N). You know that, right? But I understand, it’s not your fault.”
You step inside, letting him lock the door behind you, “Not… my fault?”
He shakes his head, hands firmly grasping your shoulders to sit you down on the small couch, “No, it’s mine.”
Immediately you protest, “That’s not true. We just drifted apart–”
Once more, he shakes his head before dropping to his knees before you. The sudden action makes you flinch, growing more uncertain when he holds your hand in his. Phainon’s eyes remind you of butterfly peas from up this close.
He’s quiet when he speaks, a deep rasp overtaking his voice, “...You don’t understand: I miss you.”
You understand what he means. Parting from Phainon is disorienting. Sunday and his friends may have managed to fill the gaping hole in your heart, but it’s incomparable to Phainon’s presence.
Are you a bad person for not finding satisfaction in your new friends? Are you sick in the end to still crave Phainon after being rejected two times? Is this what you get for sticking by his side for so long?
It probably is.
He continues speaking, “I’m sorry for pushing you away; that was never my intention. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re dear to me – you truly are. I never wanted to pursue a relationship with you because, I– I’m too lowly for you. I would only taint you.”
You run your fingers through his hair, reminiscing on all the nights you spent crying over him – it still bleeds like fresh wounds, “That’s ridiculous, Phainon. I’m not some holy figure to taint. I was just a girl in love with her best friend.”
“I know, but you… you don’t understand. You’re everything to me.”
“You’re everything to me, too, that’s why I loved you.” You still do.
“I think of you first thing in the morning. I brush my hair wondering how I’ll spend the day with you, I eat breakfast, thinking what yours was at that moment, I kept the homework you threw out. I always hate it when I talk to people who aren’t you. I still have the twigs you gave me during our 6th-grade camping trip. The reason the pressed flowers you were planning on giving out during high school graduation went missing is that I stole them – I didn’t want anyone else owning a piece of you. I make sure you’re always too shy to stand up for yourself, so I can save you. I… I hate Sunday for getting into your head – it should only be me. I should be the one you hate and love. I – you’re everything to me.”
His grip tightens, blunt fingernails leaving indents on your own fingers, “I’m sorry, please take me back. I’m unworthy, but I don’t want you to be happy with anyone else. I started cutting myself when you refused to go back to Aedes Elysiae with me – I don’t want to live in a world where I’m not by your side. Please. I’ll kill myself if you leave me. I really will.”
You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth.
If Phainon is the sun that will incinerate you and your sunflower petals for getting too close, the question it poses is: Do you let it consume you whole? To forgive and forget, starting a new chapter anew in the process?
kill yourself or let (y/n) have friends and move on from you
“I asked chat gpt-” “I asked grok-” well i asked sloane and she said there’s a 98% chance my fist will connect with your face if you ever mention/use ai again
Amphoreus, the Eternal Land. The cyclical world where rainbows trickled down the skies and formed roads between kingdoms. The clouds that adorned the sky and the endless blue were blessings from the Sky Titan, Hyacinthia and the Earth Titan had adorned the flowers that bloomed in Okhema’s fields.
You walked across the grass, enveloped in the warmth of the rising morning sun, a contrast to your origins in the far northern empire of Hyperborea. You missed the comfort of revelling in warmth within the walls of your home whilst the endless freeze graced the world, you really did. Now, however, you found comfort in the sun. Perhaps because of a certain someone.
“You’re awake early today.”
You turned around, the garments dressing you swaying with the light breeze and your movements. You were met with the Worldbearing Titan. Well, one of them. The other two were probably busy with goodness knows what. That is what you told yourself at least, you didn’t know what the other pair was usually up to, but they were probably very busy.
“And you’re skipping out on duty again.” You told Khaslana off and he only sheepishly smiled and lowered himself to one knee before carefully taking your hand into his. He pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“Khaos and Phainon can handle it just fine. I am allowed to see my wife whenever I want to.”
Despite the normalcy of the act, you couldn’t help but feel off. Like there were details in your mind missing.
“Really?”
It wasn’t really a question that you posed, just a sidenote that you were skeptical about what he was saying, probably not believing his words. You knew he was just flirting, or so you thought.
“You almost drowned near the sea of Hyperborea, I’m still worried about you. It hasn’t been too long and you’re still recovering.” Khaslana rose up to his feet. Your eyes flickered to his wings.
Drowned?
Before your mind could process the admittedly hazy words, your mouth automatically responded, as if it was a pre-destined response.
“Come on, it’s been a month, if anything, you should ask the Titan of Law how restoration is going after you evaporated the sea.”
Khaslana’s face flushed and he looked away quickly when you mentioned that. You pondered your own words, trying to recall why it was so familiar. These memories were undoubtedly yours, this life was yours. You were you. But at the same time, you weren’t.
“You may be a kin of the skyfolk, but that does not mean you have the wings to reach for the sun out on open water.” He scolded you, his wings unfurling to wrap around you. His inconceivably warm body temperature made the morning all the more scalding, but you were used to it. He always tried to keep the heat down for you, his beloved.
You didn’t argue, too busy revelling in the warmth of the human vessel he had made to be able to indulge spending time with you like he had during his mortal days.
“...I did?”
“Yeah.”
You remembered but the you speaking did not. You remembered your dreams. First the snow everyday in January from when you were little. Then you met him — and it all changed.
“It was awful, I hope you won’t ever have to remember.” Khaslana spoke solemnly, and you could tell he was serious. A few seconds of silence enveloped before he whispered. “I never want to have to visit Miss Castorice for that reason again.”
His hand entangled in your hair, holding your head close to his chest.
“Please don’t die again, dawnlight. Please don’t reach for the sun in hopes of finding me, just wait before hurting yourself.”
˖.𖤓 ݁٠࣪˖˚⋆
“Khaslana. You need to go now, the people of the Holy City are in panic.”
“I know, Anaxa.”
Khaslana stared down at the River of Souls. So far from Okhema he had come, and now the Titan of Reason had found him in the desolate city of Styxia. The air was still, the sky darkened and the winds frozen in time. His breathing was audibly laboured, something human that resurfaced after all these years of being a bearer of their world. The corrosion known as the Black Tide ate at his physical body, his wings marred with scarlet and his limbs tainted as well.
“You need to go as far as possible, they absolutely cannot see you like this.”
Anaxagoras was not in a much better state, although he had not been quite as affected, due to the sacrifice of another. He wanted to be reasonable, and aiding Khaslana in his escape was sentimental, especially for him. He feared that new Chrysos Heirs of this world would slay Khaslana out of fear of potential hostility after what happened to Khaos. Khaos who lost control, decimating the lives in the hundred-thousands and eventually succumbing to a Demigod who retrieved the coreflame of Strife from Mydeimos’ corpse.
“But I can’t leave her here.” He whispered in a weak voice, inciting Anaxagoras to argue against him. In his arms, your corpse lied, barely recognizable because of the foul monsters had emerged from the deepest dark.
Anaxagoras let his eyes flicker to your deceased form. He was perfectly aware of how deeply his love ran for you, an unnamed Chrysos Heir and a kin of the sky. But right now the remaining titans needed to flee, away from the black tide and away from the revolting heirs whose Flamechase Journey was reaching its climax.
“I know.”
Khaslana’s desperate eyes flickered to his teacher then back at you, his lover. His wonderful, beautiful lover who he loved so deeply.
“Damn you, Caenis…” He whispered, holding you up to his face and pressing his forehead to yours. You were so cold, colder than when he found you drowning that day. Colder now that death had embraced you for good. He could feel the tears shed from his eyes, evaporating once they trickled down his skin. Then—
“Anaxa.”
The Reason Titan raised an eyebrow, realizing an important decision had been made at that moment. He knew his students well, and he could safely say that Khaslana never changed.
“I will die here, and you take the coreflame and give it to Phainon.”
His eyes widened, stepping back from the dock as the temperature began rising drastically. Khaslana kept his grip on you firm and unmoving as embers erupted all of a sudden.
“I thought you already had given it to him?!” Anaxagoras panicked, covering his eye as the unbearable light pierced the sullen darkness of the once-warbling shores. “Khaslana, you were the one who had it all this time?”
Khaslana smiled bitterly and nodded. He bowed to his teacher one last time, turning away to the horizon, burning away at his own body until there was nothing left, letting himself incinerate to ash as he held you in his arms. The corruption of the black tide only worked faster once the catalyst of his flames burnt brighter.
“I love you, [Name], I’ll save you next time, I promise.”
But he wasn’t looking at your dead body. He was looking at you, who watched the dream unfold from a disconnected perspective. It wasn’t long until the clouds split open for a blue sky, a burning dawn that ebbed away as the sun of the world disintegrated to ash.
(...)
You gasped for air when you woke up, almost jolting up but was held down by something strong. You almost panicked at the pressure over your chest, but immediately calmed down at the sight of the ceiling above you. The press on your chest was Khaslana’s head with his arms around your waist.
Your hair was sticking to your forehead from all that cold sweat that clung to your face like spider web.
“It was just a dream…”
You couldn’t move, even if Khaslana hadn’t been on you right now. Your limbs felt sluggish beyond belief, as if you had just woken up from a million days and nights of sleep.
As if sensing the fact that you were awake, Khaslana stirred and opened his eyes. He looked confused briefly as to what he was sleeping on, but when he realized it was you, he doubled down and pressed his face against you more.
“...Good morning…” His voice was even deeper after waking up.
“Good morning.” You whispered back, absentmindedly. Your hand found itself on his hair, caressing gently over the pale strands. “I had a… weird dream.”
“Weird dream?” He asked yawning softly and turning his head so he could look at you. “Do tell me about it.”
And you did, retelling all the details that you somehow retained in explicit, visual remembrance.
prev. 𖤓 masterlist. 𖤓 next
Synopsis: Every January since you were little, you would dream about a field of snow, waking up cold. That was happening until you went back home one January – when that same dream would end differently, in which the snow melted and you would hear a voice. That same voice was the one you would hear from a fellow figure skater that you met in your home town; his name was Khaslana. Now you can't seem to avoid this man, whether you're online or outside and fans can't get enough of you two together.
A/N: feeding yall in class. I couldnt wait to post this!!!!! missing my oomf junoms ✌️
things I won’t let ai take away from human writers
em dash
“not x, not y, but z”
short sentence stacking as a stylistic choice
none of these belong to ai. these are all what human writers have been writing since day one, way before ai was invented. ai was trained to mimic how human writers write — so em dash, not x not y but z and short sentence stacking would never have been used by ai at all if ai hadn’t learned and mimicked them from human writers.
no, you are not “fighting against ai” by accusing every work that has em dash, not x not y but z or short sentence stacking in it as ai-generated, you are helping ai harm the writing community by engaging in witch hunt and scaring human writers away from creating/sharing their works for fear of being wrongly accused of using ai.
speculations, accusations and ai witch hunt harm the writing community as much as ai does, if not more.
if we post too fast, we get accused of using ai (no, you don't know how fast someone can write. you don't even know if the "too-frequent-to-be-human updates" you see are something that have long been finished and sitting in an author's drafts for god knows how long. just because it's recently posted, doesn't necessarily always mean it's recently written too. a lot of writers finish the whole thing first before they start posting it chapter by chapter).
if we take "too long to update", we get people pressuring us to "update faster" even though fanfics are our hobbies and we write for ourselves first and foremost.
if our works are grammatically correct, we get accused of using ai (some of us just love correct grammars).
if our works are not grammatically correct, we get insulted/criticized (mind you, not everybody writes in their native language. kudos to writers who write in their second, or third, or fourth language — I'm willing to bet a lot of people who criticize fanfics because of poor grammar can't even speak other languages besides english).
if our paragraphs are "too long and too detailed", we get accused of using ai.
if our paragraphs are "too short", we also get accused of using ai.
if we are autistic and we write in ways some deem "too robotic", we get accused of using ai.
some people just don't use their brains to think "ai was trained on human-made works, it was trained to look human-made. ai writes this way because the way it writes is the way real humans write — real humans whose works it was trained to mimic". instead they somehow disregard this logic and think "hmmm this work looks ai-generated. I will engage in witch hunt, be a bully and harass writers whose works I don't vibe with".
im scrolling through the x reader tags on here and you guys are so mean to writers if you don’t like something don’t read it like it’s so frustrating to see so many people make memes about “cringey and shitty” writing and im so confused because last i checked you’re not writing any of your own stories so what gives you the right to be so critical the people on here are doing this for fun not everyone is gonna write professional award winning stories and it’s tumblr man like people write smut on here for the giggles its truly never ever that serious ALSO ALSO you’re reading fanfics bro this is as cringe as it gets so you can’t even be like oh you’re cringe for writing that babe we are all in the same place LOL the traction is already so low on this app and it’s so discouraging when every second post you see in the popular tags is about someone complaining and then you guys also complain about having nothing to read like yeah no shit bro no one wants to write when you’re being so mean
Ars longa, Vita brevis @nonelysianthoughts - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
