#Path of Thorns

[kamishirowxs]

support between old friends

[animeweeb115]

"It's not the ending I expected, but an ending long foretold."

[the-bird-and-the-flute]

Marius - path of torns - just some comments

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT PATH OF THORNS!!!

Actually, I want to mention 2 moments (but there were several other scenes I loved, it's just that I'm avoiding writing an essay here lol)

Btw, I do not recommend you to read path of thorns if torture and violence may trigger you.

But if you like cold/bossy/dom marius, this card is for you ahahah. Especially if you like that secretary x boss dynamic. If you guys couldn't get him, I hope you can get another chance soon.

So, in the first CG, we see Marius pushing rosa down on his office table. Dude, it was such a stressful moment for rosa. I thought he was going to fire her or maybe sth worse. But due to the CG and the scene description, at the same time, it was so fucking sexy. Marius was not flirting with her imo, even tho, because it's marius, he unintentionally has this aura that emanates sensuality. I'm sorry, I had to say it lmaoo

And then we got the other one, when they were torturing marius.

Bruh, I cried. I've never seen marius suffering that much. I deadass thought he was going to die at that moment. I appreciate the angst tho. I know, I'm crazy.

seriously, I wish I could write as good as whoever wrote this card story. It's insanely good.

Also, when he was being tortured, sth that really caught my attention was marius' eyes. When he was in pain, for a moment I thought he had died because his eyes looked so dead, as if they had lost their natural sparkle.

Probably the most agonizing marius card I've read. Although he already suffered in other cards too.

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

[bunnywithatablet]

Training

INTRO SESSION 0.3

Two days after the arrival in the House of Thorns.

#No warnings #No beta we die like Pyrrha #Liliana Lazulli #Obsidian Osten #Path of Thorns

326 Words / 1,888 Characters

Liliana and Obsidian stood in front of each other in the green grass, surrounded by flowers and greenery. Earlier in the morning, she invited her homeland companions for daily training to keep them all busy. Thus now they were breathing a little bit faster after trading consecutive blows under the soft morning sun.

They were not really sparing yet. More so measuring each other's methods and strengths by going through some traditional military forms and drills. Both held a combination of sword and shield in hands. Obsidian's was flaming red like moldem stone. Liliana's were a replica of the divine instruments of Schutzaria and Ewigeliebe made out of ice. When they exchanged blows, the weapons would hiss and smoke against each other violently.

However, it took one well landed attack from Liliana to catch Obsidian by surprise and make him return with twice the force. The drill quickly escalated on a full out sparring, both of them rushing through the grass as forces of nature. Fire and ice raged as if Ewigeliebe and Leidenschaft were battling for Gedulh, sparks and snowflakes littering the air with each traded blow.

And like the God of Life himself, Liliana was destined to lose, if only for a short while. Obsidian's attacks were brutal and destructive and, even if all her own blows were to hit him true, it would barely dent his unending stamina. She surrendered while she could still stand with some resemblance of grace, even if flustered by the battle glow, and washed herself with the blessing of Flutrane.

Gods bless the years of carefully pinning her hair to her skull to the point of numbness. Not a single hair was out of place.

"Thank you for sparing with me, Sir Obsidian. May I offer you the blessings of the healing waters of Flutrane?" Her smile was measured and polite. A perfect noble.

Honestly, even far away from home, she didn't know how to be anything else.

[mizuribbons]

[spicyicymeloncat]

I don’t think i ever posted this?

Very belated mizu5 content lol

[chichirid]

mizuki themed stamps and blinkies - all edited by me♡

credit not needed but appreciated

[solbaby7]

I love the blurb bar idea and I loved the pina colada one, how about a neat gin n tonic with a salt rim?

[ forced proximity: “you can’t seriously be insinuating that i should sit on your lap.” + smut + az ]

guys i got carried away 🫣🤭 but at least it’s finished and has minimal spelling errors 🤍🩷

-> BLURB BAR <-

To put it quite frankly, you and Azriel didn’t really get along.

It seemed almost easy for everyone else in the Inner Circle to latch onto him; to gravitate towards him and all his shadowy mysteriousness—but not you. Between his victim complex, lack of self-control and the inability to properly communicate his feelings like a normal person, you’d lost your patience for him long ago.

Maybe that’s why you laugh right in Rhysand’s face after he lays down the guidelines for your temporary deployment to the Steppes. Everything sounds perfectly normal up until the end when Rhysand’s lips form the words, “—and you’ll be going with Azriel; he’s already been briefed.”

“Very funny,” Shoulders shake through your laughter, tickled from the joke. “But, you don’t have to go to such lengths just to make me laugh Rhys.”

Your grin fades comically fast and the deep frown that takes it place doesn’t falter long after you’ve left the High Lord’s office and scrounged back to your own chambers to pack. Every move is mechanical, clothes being folded and stuffed away a little rougher than necessary as you try not to think about having to spend seven whole days holed up in a creaky cabin with some brooding bat.

To be fair, Azriel seems no happier than you about the situation, his signature brood securely in place when you meet on the balcony at the witching hour with bag in hand. “Come—let’s get this over with.”

You refrain from commenting on his attitude; hold yourself back from snapping when he snatches your duffle from your grasp just to watch it disappear in a puff of sentient shadow. They’d almost be cute—Azriel’s shadows—if they weren’t so fucking useless. Capable of procuring intel and acting as camouflage but can’t manage to hold two fae long enough to get them to the Illyrian mountains.

No, instead you were subjected to this. Close contact and his fucking hands holding onto your body as he flies on a route you’re unfamiliar with. You eye his wings cautiously, trying to be subtle when you peek over the strong line of his shoulder but being this close? He can feel every beat of your heart against your sternum. Every squirm and twitch of a limb as you try to find a more comfortable place to put your arm. “Will you stop moving?”

“I can’t help it,” Hips shift once more, one leg hitching just a little higher on his hip. “Your fucking daggers keep poking me.”

Azriel tenses up, muscles locking and suddenly you’re being moved how he pleases—both legs wrapped around his waist and a firm forearm clasped around the base of your spine. “Stay.” His voice is rougher than your used to, his blunt nails biting into the sliver of skin exposed to the elements. “Don’t move, we’re almost there.”

That was a lie—it would take hours to make it to the Steppes but the gruff command is surprisingly easy to follow. And while you’ll never verbally admit it, the secure bracketing of his arms around your body was more of a comfort than a nuisance. It’s all too easy to ease into his grasp, allowing sleep to take over until the journeys over and you swear you can feel him cradle you in closer, his nose ghosting over the crown of your head.

He makes absolutely no comment on it when you finally arrive with your hair ruffled, clothes crinkled and the imprint of Azriel’s syphon on your cheek other than a chuffed out, “You snore.”

Instinct screams at you to make some snappy comment back but reason doesn’t allow it to be voiced—not here. Here, you and Azriel would have to appear as a united front, for the males raised in this terrain were bred to sniff out any and all weaknesses to exploit. Only here do you allow the hand that permanently glues itself to the dip of your back, pushing you past rabid animals swollen with pride and snarling with hatred.

Slurs are spat from their lips but Azriel doesn’t pay them any mind, so you don’t either.

He walks through the camps as if he owns them, spine straight and shoulders square. Strong wings stand proudly behind him, shadows guarding your flank until the unforgiving chill is replaced by the stuffy warmth of a mess hall. It’s cramped—a little dirty and smells like a mixture of male and tobacco but either way you’re given a warm meal and fresh water to drink.

The vulgar comments grow more frequent, mutterings of their unwanted appreciation towards your body so sickening that your appetite threatens to scurry away. “They’re disgusting.” You scoff, setting down your tray of food, one hand curled around the chair.

It doesn’t give. Azriel’s boot curled around the leg holds it in place. Arched brows furrow at him, nose scrunching under the effort it takes not to kick him in his shin but there’s something about his body language that make you stop. “They’ll keep doing that shit if they think you’re free game.” Every syllable is clipped; laced with a wildness you’re unfamiliar with—almost as if he’s insinuating that it’s your fault that such brutish males were salivating at the sight of you. Darkness cloaks the hazel tones of his eyes when he meets your own and you nearly miss the gesture he makes.

One hand patting twice at his lap.

“Absolutely not.” Azriel’s boot shoves the seat away completely when you make a move to sit down on it once more. He settles deeper in his own, thick thighs manspreading as deft hands adjust the positioning of his holsters, guiding sharpened weapons away from the area of space he frees up for you. “You can’t seriously be insinuating that I should sit on your lap?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, this is me telling you—sit down.”

You pray he doesn’t see the blush that burns against your cheeks when you take a seat in his lap, his hands resting along the sides of your hips. He keeps eating as if nothing is new. As if he doesn’t realize the way his touch has you squirming against solid muscle through thick leathers, legs subconsciously parting to make more room for the wandering fingers that slide down your thighs, digging into sensitive inner thighs. “What are you doing?” You ask, barely able to grab at the food before you with the way your hands shake.

“I’m sending a message.”

Breath catches when you feel Azriel’s thigh flex between your legs, pressing against your sex in such a way that you’re certain it’s impossible that he hadn’t felt the way you clench in response. “What kind of message?”

“The kind that says someone already owns you.” People are looking, that much you know—can feel their eyes tracking every move. Azriel’s hand splayed over your stomach, his head tucked in the curve of your shoulder as his free hand spies its way through your breeches. There’s a pause, one where you’re time to push him away, to declare that this was entirely too far and smack him clear across his face.

That doesn’t happen. Your legs only part further, making more room for needy fingers to shove past your panties.

It’s a foolish decision, you can feel it the second you make it. As if you’d just unconsciously confirmed the ridiculous notion that you were one of Azriel’s possessions. To do as he pleased. To sit there splayed out across his lap like some puppet and allow him to take the reins and show off all your tricks until you’re boneless and drooling.

He’s too good with his hands. Too slick with the sly filth he mutters into your ear as he fondles at your clit under the table, pressing firm circles into the bundle of nerves until you’re panting like a bitch in heat.

You barely remember how much you hate him when he touches you like this. Until the orgasm fades and your consciousness clears and even though the way you lean into the dip of his neck appears like some typical lovers embrace—bystanders fail to hear the sharp way you sneer, “Tell anyone about this ever and I’ll fucking kill you.”

[project-sekai-facts]

The event logo for Where Does The Path Of Thorns Go? contains a couple of callbacks to the My Footprints, Your Destination event logo. Most obvious is the background of the chainlink fence, but the exact same butterfly (based on Mizuki's original school uniform hairbow) appears on the right side of each logo.

[astergore]

everything would be so much better if i disappeared.

[animeweeb115]

"It's not the ending I expected, but an ending long foretold."

[orchestrasekai]

✦ Where Does the Path of Thorns Lead To? Papercrafts ✦

minaide rikai dekinaideshou?

[willowwormwood]

Scene redraw from Slay the Princess

[bunnywithatablet]

God of Darkness

INTRO SESSION 0.3

Add on the actual scene during the session, while talking to Rowan.

#No warnings #No beta we die like Pyrrha #Liliana Lazulli #Rowan Charric #Path of Thorns

438 Words / 2,341 Characters

As Rowan kept his hands busy with his work, whatever it was, Liliana's own hands travel through the book covers lined on the walls. Her eyes scanned the titles, many about the matters of life, death and the soul, coming from many different places. She turned around to look at her new acquaintance - her new master in the arts - and took in his appearance once more.

The knight could understand that some would find him frightening. Black was the color of the Grimm, but only because Chaocipher wished to have the God of Darkness for her own. Having no color of her own, she made them of the likeness of the object of her greed and made their eyes glow with the fire of summer, twisted into anger and hatred. Rowan was nothing like those. He was passive and steadfast as the Lord of darkness, spreading his cape over the skies in silent watch while waiting for his wife's return. However, Liliana had the impression he looked equally lonely. Something inside her whispered that it was wrong. Maybe it was his eyes. There was not even a moon to set light to those skies, permanently devoid of the grace of the supreme Goddess.

She tore her eyes away from him.

"You read about many cultures, you said? I am devoid of Mestianora's blessing when it comes to the words beside this one, but I am aware that my beliefs are not universal. Even so- I find likeness to them even here. In my land, we believe that our colors, our souls, are blessed by the gods, some more than others." She looked down at nothing in particular as she spoke. "To me, you seem deeply blessed by the supreme God of Darkness himself. He is the one that rules over the realm of life and death, welcoming the souls to the top of the towering staircase when the time comes. Though you seemed to lack the company of the Goddess of Light to aid in your own endeavors."

The knight said the last words due to his lack of light in his own person, not even the white of his pupils, nothing more. However, he seems to pause at her words and, for a second, Liliana felt that she might have overstepped her place and stretched her stay. Placing a hand on her chest, she bowed to him.

"For now, I shall return and settle down. I may return at a later date to seek your guidance. Until then, may the gods bless you, Master Rowan. Do be at peace."

And she calmly and elegantly makes her escape.

[sekaitransparents]

where does the path of thorns go? | what has been lost ~ mizuki akiyama