#{In the Reflection of the Mirrors - Verse Musings} | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has 411 employees.

#{In the Reflection of the Mirrors - Verse Musings}

not-so-childsplay · 2 years

Text

What’s written in the image is also under the cut for those who can’t read it!

Me, writing out this reply and legit thinking about why the ninja are usually at least semi-chill while Ninjago gets destroyed: Thank you, stop it, I don't want the additional trauma, fuck off stop-- My brain: Yes but think about this, really THINK ABOUT IT

Like--- these guys never asked to be the ninja? Technically they all inherited their elements (and thusly their roles)??? And they're told to go stop evil b/c no one else is bothering to stand up/everyone else isn't strong enough to stand up They're barely adults, told to go save the world- and they're trying but at the same time, hundreds- thousands- fuck maybe millions die in each fight as part of the crossfire Imagine knowing somewhere in the back of your mind that you're responsible for tons upon tons of grief and death and destruction, and being barely an adult. Fuck's sake imagine being Lloyd, who's FUCKING TEN, and knowing somewhere deep down that you didn't save the day soon enough, that so many died because you couldn't beat the villain in time

Like no wonder these guys always at least semi-joke/brush off every world-ending threat once it's over (and they do legit try to help rebuild after some seasons)- if they stopped to think about it, the thought of all the innocents they harmed while trying to save the people would be crippling

But if they stopped to try to prevent every death in their fights, then they'd have no time to beat the big-bad and the world would go to sh!t anyway

Like--- these guys are trying. They're trying to save the world, save everyone. Because some big-bad decided to be a d!ck. But they get stuck with the blame of every death in a fight they couldn't win if they tried to save everyone. It's a lose-lose situation, wooooooooooooooooooooooooo

#death tw #[they say/go slow/and everything just stands so still/we say/go go/you're gonna see us rip into it: unspecified ninjago verse]#[worldbuilder: mun]#[writer’s needs: fanfic]#mass death tw #[we sing this song/longing for a place to call home: zane julien]#[it’s too late/it’s my fate/I can’t turn around/there’s no fear/in the mirror/to hold me down: jay walker]#[a change is due/a different view/we must go on: celexa dust]#[continue on this winding road/strengths within must start to show: robot!celexa verse]#[reflection in the candy glass: musings]

8 notes · View notes

whitecrownsblackthrones-archived · 2 years

Text

The Lareryth Empire & Sue’s experience that change her from a Queen to a Divine Empress in v!Long Live the Queen, done as a bullet list to make it as simple as possible:

Lareryth now encompasses the entirety of the eastern landmass. Making it easily the largest Empire in the world, as well as the only country to hold ownership of an entire content, something that hasn’t been done before.

Lareryth is also now more a modern nation, with modern appliances like electricity, running water in every house, gas stoves, cars & even air planes being commonplace.

At some point during Sue’s reign as Queen, she creates a new castle in the mountains. This becomes the new main residence of the Lareryth Royal Family. Due to the cold & snowy weather of the mountains, the Royal Family often revisits the old castle, which as now been renamed ‘The Spring Palace’ & conducts their business there. They later do the same with other palace from other nations they absorb into Lareryth later on.

Also she implements the ‘Leadership Tests’. These are tests deigned to determine if nobles & royals, that are born into their positions of power, are truly worthy of their positions & the responsibility that comes with it. Noble or royals who fail to complete this test are striped of their positions & it will be handed to the next most available family member, in the case there are no available family members, or the family runs out of members, the positions will be given to an entirely new person.

Events that happen in order after Seth’s death

Jailiam was the first place to be captured & absorbed into Lareryth, with Queen Suzanne Ying de’Lareryth Heart precuring the aid of the Warlord Arthur Rogue, a Jailiam native.

With the aid of Warlord & Sue’s leadership & battle skills, it takes roughly 3 years for all of Jailiam to be properly annexed, & another 2 years for rebellions to be put down there after.

1 month after the annexation of Jailiam, Sue discovers she is pregnant with her one & only child, the father being Arthur Rogue, having slept with him a few times before killing him to avoid him taking Jailiam for himself. She chooses to carry the child & gives birth to Crown Princess Primrosa Lucifenia de’Lareryth Heart.

1 year after the annexation of Jailiam & 5 months after the birth of Primrosa, assassins are sent to Chrysan, whom kill the King & Queen Regent, Preston Alnwick Sanders zos Hathawaye & Bianca Allencourt Jullet zos Hathawaye, forcing the Crown Princess, Lucrezia Annafreya Timothea zos Hathawaye, to ascend to the throne that she was previously being denied by the Regents.

The night before her coronation, Lucrezia receives a threatening letter from Queen Suzanne, demanding her to surrender Chrysan to Lareryth, or face war. Should she agree to, she will not invade the kingdom, allow the princess to live & continue to run Chrysan as a state of Lareryth. She allows Lucrezia 3 days after her coronation to think about her choice.

The following day, Lucrezia is crowned as the Queen of Chrysan, only for her first royal decree the following day to be she is surrendering the Kingdom of Chrysan to the Lareryth Empire, believing not only will this protect her people, but allow them to thrive. Lucrezia is often called the ‘One Day Queen’ as a result. Queen Suzanne follows through with her promise, & allows Lucrezia to live & run Chrysan, retitling her as ‘Archduchess’ & renaming her ‘Lucrezia Timothea zos Hatha’.

Both so highly celebrated & feared by the Lareryth court, they surmised to give Suzanne a new title. Sue requests permission to reform the Lareryth hierarchy & is overwhelming granted permission.

The highest standing power in the Lareryth Empire is now ‘Empress’ & Suzanne becomes the first Empress of the Eastern Empire. A mock coronation is held in her honor.

3 Years later, assassins are sent to Nodiba as well, however, these assassins fail in their mission to kill the Emperor & Empress, whom had failed to complete the reformat of their movement as they promised for some years.

Spies are sent instead to survey the country. It is uncovered not only are the people suffering, from both a lack of food & money, but the Emperor is actually a a completely different person, using the face of the Emperor created via magic to rule & keeping the Nodiban Empress hostage, forcing her to act as if everything is fine.

Empress Suzanne threats war. The False Emperor responds with a what is basically a posh form ‘Bring it’, essentially trying to call Sue’s bluff. Sue is not bluffing & beginning amassing her army to move on Nodiba.

Hearing that Lareryth was planning on invading Nodiba, many Nodiban people gather on the country borderlines, begging to be taken into Lareryth. Empress Suzanne orders her solders to shelter the Nodiban citizens & share their military rations with them, as well has having field medics aid the sick & injuried. And are made to continue to do such as they move through & capture land from the Nodiba Imperial Army. This greatly slows their progress, but saves many lives.

Upon hearing the kind actions towards her people by Empress Suzanne, the Nodiban Empress announces her support the Sue, which causes more citizens to flee to the Lareryth army & even cause a few Nodiban solders to defect to the side of Lareryth.

The Nodiban Empress is later killed by the False Nodiban Emperor in a fit of rage of declaring her support to their enemy, this causes more citizens & solders to defect, which now even a few noble families defecting as well.

Over a slow year, Nodiba is eventually successful capture & taken into the Lareryth Empire, after the death of the False Emperor, whom Sue defaces before everyone by destroying his magical visage of the true Emperor with her overwhelmingly stronger magic.

Another 3 years is spent helping Nodiba & it’s citizens recover. Roughly 5 months afterwards, a large statue is constructed in the visage of the former & last Nodiban Empress in the former capital city to honor the woman & the Nodiban people who loved her so. A few old Nodiban nobles are merged into the Lareryth nobility, & allowed to have keep of the territory they had before in Nodiba.

Held in the highest regard, by Lareryth, Chrsyan & Nodiba nobles alike, they hold a meeting & decide to give Suzanne two new titles, one to be a title of honor given to great rulers that benefited the growth of Lareryth outstandingly, & one that will be given to her only as a recognition of her divine power. She is now the First ever ‘High Empress’ & the First & only ever ‘Divine Empress’. Her full title is now ‘Her Divine Majesty, High Divine Empress of Night’.

#『v!Long live the Queen』#【In the Reflection of the Mirror; is What we see Truly Ourselves?】Verses an AUs Aesthetic #『A Royal Degree』Headcanons #[Lore; Aesthetic; and Ideas] Musings #【In Darkness blooms the Spider Lily】Suzanne Aesthetic(varies trigger warnings)

8 notes · View notes

ofstarfleet · 10 months

Text

❝ you do not know your place. you might wish to before you end up in a worse position than even the Vulcans. ❞ his smile is warped. he feels pleased to say such a thing. he's in command of the Terran Empire's prized flagship. he's worked his way up strategically spilling the blood of fellow humans until he was granted a position of power. he wore that crown of gold leaf with pride. she was speaking to a man with a god complex. the entirety of space was his to conquer and bring back to his empire on a silver platter of glory. her ship was their prize. his crew boarding her now to strip it of assets for their taking.

❝ you are amusing, but you live by my mercy and that can run out at any moment. ❞ he leans in closer, rakes his earthen toned eyes over her form. takes in the exotic nature of her looks. he considers letting her live not because there was useful intel to be had, but simply because he found her pleasing to look at. that might be entertaining.

❝ you have a lot of pride ---- similar to that of a Klingon. spirited. you'll make an amusing diversion for when I grow weary of the bridge. ❞ he signals for the security detail to stand back. ❝ all aliens are property of the Terran Empire. you are not human and therefore you exist for our benefit. your ship will be boarded and dismantled, brought back for the good of the empire. we'll learn her secrets and grow stronger. submit and you live. refuse and rebel and untold agony awaits you assuming you do not die first. ❞

@lykaiia -> remember mirror verse bc I do.

#filed under > tos muses: captain kirk #verse -> tos mirror: reflections of darkness #lykaiia

1 note · View note

lxftovxrs-are-deciving · 2 years

Text

Tag Dump

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ innocence is key ] ☼ ☼ [ boyfriend ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ not all is lost ] ☼ ☼ [ whitty ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ killer queen ] ☼ ☼ [ bf's mom ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ is that an eyeba- ] ☼ ☼ [ gore ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ things left unsaid ] ☼ ☼ [ lore ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ simple task ] ☼ ☼ [ rp ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ a tale told ] ☼ ☼ [ ic ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ curious are we? ] ☼ ☼ [ ask ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ offscreen ] ☼ ☼ [ ooc ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ accomplice ] ☼ ☼ [ verse 1 ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ saved and afraid ] ☼ ☼ [ verse 2 ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ broken mirror ] ☼ ☼ [ aesthetic ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ reflection ] ☼ ☼ [ musings ]

✘ ⊁ ⊁ ⊁ [ RUN FORREST RUN ] ☼ ☼ [ crack ]

0 notes

marleyswho · 9 days

Text

no woman, no cry (chapter three)

warnings. false awakening/reoccurring dream. fluff. introduction to more oc’s. mention and description of mental breakdown. ex-girlfriend and sisters. that kind of soul connected love. two-sided personality. slight neglect. hinting towards flirting. jealous!tish. possessive!tish. angst. tense arguing. a realization and apologies

tags. @shurislover @s0lam33y @desswright29 @pocketsizedpanther @naftalyspaces @oceean @tishlvr @bbbbbbrilliantly @shurisnovia @kisskourt @blkgworlamplified @prettymrswright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @jordisblogg

notes. this chapter contains… a lot, we’re hitting ALL the emotions. i’ve been ready to write this chapter for weeks as that scene was replaying in my head over and over and now it’s finally here. i hope you all love it ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Milan sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft amber hue over the bustling Malpensa Airport, the first time she’s felt the sun since leaving Jamaica. Genesis stands in the economy boarding line, her dreadlocks tied into a loose bun, tucked under a knit beanie. Her eyes, a reflective pool of thought, wander across the vast terminal, watching the world around her.

Once the line moves enough, she hands over the needed documents, a subtle sigh escaping her lips as she does, fingers brushing against a leather-bound journal in her bag, a collage of sketches and musings that mirror her soul.

Boarding the aircraft, Genesis nestles into her seat, the window to her left granting her a panoramic view of the bright tarmac lights. The seat beside her remains vacant, a small luxury in the cramped quarters of economy, and ahead of her is the curtain that divides the classes. She imagines Letitia, her relaxed posture in the cocoon of first-class comforts.

Genesis blacks out most of takeoff, having done it many times before, and though she doesn’t sleep well normally, there’s times where her body’s just so tired that she doesn’t even realize she falls into it.

And this time, when her eyes droop closed, an image floods her sight. It’s a field, a vast expanse of green that seems to stretch infinitely. And there’s a small child, maybe no older than nine. It’s her, a child with braids, her clothes a couple sizes too large on her skinny frame, billowing around her as she runs. But it isn’t joyous, there’s no laughter, only fear clear on her face, set by the sudden harsh crackle of incoming flames.

She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t scream for help, only her ragged breathes are heard as she runs towards her view of the scene, an intuitive understanding that to turn would be to acknowledge the fear gnawing at her heels. And she’s never been one for that.

She hears the gallop of hooves suddenly, a man on the horse a persistent shadow in her periphery. His presence is ominous as he rides after her, yet there’s something strangely familiar, like a forgotten verse of a once-loved song.

And then she hears the hum.

The tune’s a constant, melodic notes, deep and experienced, echoing a timelessness that feels both foreign and familiar, seemingly etched into her very soul. Yet its origin remains a mystery, obscured like a half-remembered lullaby.

The dream dissolves as the Captain’s voice announces their descent into Heathrow, and Genesis stirs, her eyes opening to the sterile light of the cabin, causing her eyebrows to furrow.

Still in a sleepy haze, she stows her journal, making an internal commitment to try and decipher the dream’s meaning later, wether be in sketch or writing, and she checks the seat pocket and the floor before zipping up her carry-on, knowing she has everything, now ready for landing, ready for the return back to urban life in its entirety. And the humming retreats into the recesses of her mind, where it will wait, patient and steadfast, for the night’s sleep, or a moment of meditation, or even revelation, when she’ll finally be able to recognize it for what it is.

Once she’s able to get off the plane, she steps into limited space of the tunnel, and she’s not sure she’s excited or even relieved of the arrival. But then she sees her, Letitia, standing in the slightly more open space next to some workers, a soft smile turning her lips up slightly. Her presence is a balm to the fatigue and anxiety that clings to Genesis like a second skin.

“Hey,” Letitia says quietly, reaching out to intertwine their fingers, her palm providing gentle warmth against Genesis’ almost chronically cold skin.

“Hey,” Genesis mirrors her, voice a little raspy, tinged with the remnants of sleep.

Together, they navigate the throngs of passengers, moving in silent harmony towards the assigned baggage claim, the carousel churning out suitcases in a rhythmic clunk. And Genesis watches as Letitia grabs hers with easy grace, seemingly a contrast to the tension she feels in her own limbs, happy she only traveled with her crossbody bag.

Suddenly, a whistle, sharp and clear, cuts through the murmurs around them and Genesis’ head turns instinctively towards the sound, her heart recognizing it before her mind even can, her eyes instantly falling on the form that made it.

Julian, a head above the crowd, his dreadlocks a cascade over his shoulders, his smile seeming to reach his eyes, igniting a furry of emotions within Genesis, a mixture of joy, nostalgia, and an unspoken trepidation.

“Gen!” He calls out her name and the sound brings with it a flood of memories. Sun-drenched afternoons and the smell of rain hitting the earth.

“Julian…” She breathes out, her voice quiet, yet there’s the smallest smile forming on her lips.

His arms wrap around her easily, his six foot frame towering over Genesis’ five-four one, an invitation back to the days of their youth where a hug would fix all the scrapes on knees and hearts alike. The familiarity of the embrace envelopes Genesis like a blanket, the kind of hug that doesn’t shy away from the past.

“God, I’ve missed you.” Julian murmurs, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through their joined bodies, and Genesis breathes in the scent that’s unmistakably Julian, the faint trace of sandalwood and the crispness of open air that always seems to cling to him.

They pull away slowly, reluctance threaded in Julian’s movements, his hands lingering on her shoulders for a moment longer, eyes searching her green ones, for the friend he knew, the one that climbed trees to their highest branch and dreamt as big as the sky.

“Yuh alright?”

“I think so…” Genesis nods, voice steady, and Julian can’t help but chuckle, pulling back fully now. And in that moment, she feels Letitia’s hand take hers again, a gentle squeeze felt, and Julian notices the subtle entwining, looking between them before his eyes fall on their hands.

“Letitia, yeah?” He questions, looking at her with a slightly narrowed expression. Letitia nods, extending a hand to his, feeling his tight grip as he shakes. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” Letitia replies, voice steady.

With the luggage secured and the hustle of the airport now behind them after walking out, Genesis and Letitia stand on the curb, the cool London air wrapping around them. Julian, having gone to retrieve the car, pulls up on their place by the sidewalk, his presence a reminder of the incoming departure.

“I always dreaded this part.” Genesis looks at Letitia, eyes softening as she remembers back to the moments of goodbyes between them, after months together for filming and press.

“Only for the night. Tomorrow we can grab coffee or tea at that little place you love. What is it… Exmouth Coffee?”

“You remembered?” Genesis cant stop the smile from appearing on her lips. She maybe only mentioned that fact once, at least five years ago now.

“Of course,” Letitia says, a playful rebuke in her tone. “I remember everything when it comes to you.”

And they move closer, a hug enveloping them with a deep warmth, one that fills Genesis’ heart, and Letitia’s whisper fills her ear.

“Nine tomorrow? Meet you there?”

Genesis nods as they pull away, but not too far, pressing a soft peck against Letitia’s lips before they finally step apart fully, Letitia opening the passenger side door for her before closing it again, leaning down to look at Julian through the window.

“Take care of her, yeah?”

“Always.” Julian nods with reassurance from the driver’s seat, and she straightens, about to step back, when she hears his voice again. “Oh, and Letitia?”

Her eyes meet his in curious question.

“Thank you for bringing her home.”

A warmth fills Letitia’s heart, nodding, sharing one last glance with Genesis, the finality of the moment hanging heavy in the air before she finally steps back onto the curb, watching as Julian pulls away, soon disappearing around the corner.

The ride to Tottenham is shrouded in the kind of silence that allows the soul to speak. She sits there, her gaze fixed on the world racing by the window as the city transitions from the polished streets of London to the more rugged, lived-in spaces of Tottenham. She always thought of Tottenham as London’s Trench Town, in ways, those who grew up normally try and get out.

Letitia did… but Genesis isn’t there yet.

Yet, Chronixx’s soulful voice plays through the speakers, the lyrics of his version of “Smile Jamaica”, a balm to the scenes she sees. The soft hum of the music is a reminder of Jamaica, of the days spent looking for peace within herself.

As Julian’s car turns onto their street, the familiarity of the terraced apartments, each baring scars and stories of so many generations, cause Genesis’ heartbeat to pick up, just slightly. Soon, Julian parks and the engine’s cessation marks their arrival, but they just sit for a moment, neither of them making a move to leave, letting the silence between them stretch comfortably.

“Yuh sure you okay?” Julian questions quietly, finally, his voice soft, yet carrying in the small space of the car.

“Yeah.” Genesis’ reply is simple, only a short pause from the question, turning her head to offer a sheepish, closed-lipped, smile.

She then steps out of the car first, the night air flowing against her and Julian follows, leading her up to the door before unlocking it with his key and letting her in.

Ziggy was there to greet them as they enter, his presence almost a larger-than-life force in the modest entry-way. His dreadlocks are tucked into a natural toned beanie, almost framing his head, and his eyes light up when he sees Genesis.

“Gen,” He smiles gently, his arms already open for a hug.

“Zig…” Genesis replies, mustering a small smile as she walks into his embrace, his hug enveloping her easily.

They stay like that for a moment, no words said, just remaining the same, but eventually Ziggy pulls back and he steps out the way for Genesis to get to the stairs, watching as she walks past and she hears his voice say something about going out tonight, though she’s not sure if it’s directed towards her or Julian, or both, but she just keeps walking up.

Her room sits at the sharp turn right from the stairs, finding her door creaked open, and she pushes on it to reveal the chaos that awaits her. She takes in a sharp breath as she steps in, standing in the middle of the mess as she looks around, rubbing the back of her neck in annoyance with herself as she remembers the events coming back to her mind.

She was mad, pissed. She remembers turning to go walk out the room before her anger just took over, slamming her hands into the closet on her right before slamming her shoulder into it and turning to walk back into the middle of the room.

She remembers pulling down the curtains and blinds, the ones that still aren’t there, and she remembers grabbing the broom, because she was using it earlier that day to actually clean, and she just started hitting it into the window, intent on breaking it. When it wasn’t working she swung it like a bat and broke off the tail-end, but she kept going until she did manage to break the window, leaving broken glass all over her carpet.

She threw so much stuff after that, leaving it haphazardly on the floor before turning and kicking at the wall because she was still so uncontrollably mad. She had raised her leg like during knee-ups and just shoved her foot down, stumbling back slightly after the impact, but that didn’t stop her, not even when she paced a little, she continued to kick the same place repeatedly until there was a shoe sized hole there.

And that’s when she dropped to the floor, knees to her chest as she sat against her bed, arms leaning on her knees as her head dropped into her hands, and she broke down into tears, sobbing.

“We repaired the window and the wall.”

Genesis jumps, her heart skipping a beat literally as she’s harshly pulled from her memories, whirling around to find Ragga in the doorway, his presence as grounding as earth itself. He’s always had a way of moving silently, a gentle giant with eyes that seem to see through everyone’s soul.

“Me and Junior…” He continues as Genesis’ hand goes to her heart, taking in a deep breath that almost hurts, and she can’t help but chuckle slightly, turning and looking towards both objects, finding them surely fixed.

“Thank you…” She says after a moment, her voice quiet, carrying the vulnerability she normally doesn’t show out to the world.

“We’re family, Gen. We look out for each other, yeah?”

Genesis gives him a nod of understanding, watching as Ragga leaves, heading towards the stairs and Genesis turns back to the mess, glancing around the space once more, taking in all of her past before starting to clean up.

It’s not until close to midnight that things are back in place, organized, or thrown away. And exhausted from the journey and the emotional toll of the day, Genesis lets herself fall backwards onto her bed. The ceiling above is a blank canvas, stark and unyielding in its simplicity, so different from the complex tapestry of her mind. For a moment, she just lays there, breathing deeply with her eyes closed, grounding, feeling the rise and fall of her chest and listening to the hush of her room.

But soon she opens her eyes, turning her head to the right, her gaze settles on a picture that’s frame is propped up against the soft glow of her crystal lamp. The photograph— black and white, its edges worn from touch before she was able to frame it— is of a man with a joyous smile, dreads tucked under a knit beanie that lays very loosely on his head. His eyes are crinkled with genuine delight as he holds a baby close to his chest. The infant, secured in the safety of her father’s embrace, is oblivious to the depth of the moment now captured forever in time.

And Genesis whispers, a greeting that carries weight of years passed and words unspoken.

“Hi, Baba.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It’s grey and windy in London, as Genesis makes her way to Exmouth Coffee. The city’s waking, the air filled with the familiar cacophony of distant traffic and the talkings from early risers. The smell of coffee from the coffee shops that seem to litter every corner fill her nose, mingling with the city’s exhaust, an urban scene that Genesis has come to associate as home.

As she nears her destination, her pace slows just a little, allowing her to take in the sights and sounds of the city more. It’s so different to her now, how she sees it.

Her eyes also catch sight of Letitia waiting ahead, her silhouette unmistakable against the classical facade of the cafe. Dressed casual, she seems absorbed in her phone, a thumb moving swiftly across her screen, but the soft sound of Genesis’ footsteps on the pavement reach her ears and she looks up, her expression softening, eyes lighting up with a gentle smile.

“Morning.” Letitia murmurs as Genesis gets close, their greeting culminating in a small, affectionate, peck of lips that feel like the final piece of Genesis’ morning clicking into place.

“Morning.” Genesis repeats, her voice low but infused with warmth.

They head inside, the air thick with the aroma of roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries. They both order hot chocolate, rich and decadent, a comforting switch from the usual morning caffeine, though Genesis has never been a coffee person at all.

Sitting at a small, intimate, table, their hot chocolates steam before them as Genesis recounts the previous evening, the homecoming. Letitia listens intently, her hand over Genesis’, offering silent comfort with a gentle rub of her thumb against Genesis’ wrist.

“…I don’t know, it just felt… different.” Genesis continues, her gaze flickering to their intertwined hands.

“A lot’s changed,” Letitia nods slightly, offering the smallest closed-lipped smile.

Genesis nods, a silent agreement, eyes moving to her untouched hot chocolate, a little steam still coming off of it, by surely drinkable by now. Yet, she doesn’t take a sip. And after a moment, Letitia’s grip on Genesis’ hand tightens slightly.

“There’s something I need to ask you.” Letitia begins tentatively, breaking the silence.

Genesis meets Letitia’s gaze, her brows furrowing slightly in curiosity.

“Would you want to come to Portugal with me?”

Genesis’ eyebrows furrow even more at her question, at the randomness of it. She doesn’t understand why she would have to be there, but before she can question it, Letitia continues.

“It’s only for a couple days with a few friends.” Letitia’s voice is hesitant, a touch quieter now. “And… Fidji’s going to be-“

“Your ex?” Genesis cuts her off in question.

“Yes, but-“

“I and I…” Genesis mutters, hanging her head slightly in annoyance, causing Letitia to lean closer.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s not like that, I promise. This trip was planned months before.” Letitia attempts to plead her case quickly, keeping her tone as calm as possible. “I just… need you there, Gens.”

Letitia’s thumb had paused in its motion, her hand now squeezing Genesis’ gently and Genesis lifts her head, eyes searching Letitia’s worried expression, searching her eyes, looking at her.

She takes a deep breath after a moment, heavy, the weight of the decision weighing down on her chest, yet she still trusts Letitia, just enough.

“I’ll go with you.” Genesis says quietly, but firm, watching as Letitia’s face lights up. “But, to make sure yuh head stays on straight.”

“Nothing about me is straight.” Letitia murmurs in a playful tone, causing Genesis to playfully roll her eyes as Letitia chuckles giddily at herself before Genesis looks to her phone, a reminder that she has therapy in half an hour.

“‘Ight… I gotta go.” Genesis pushes herself up, her and Letitia’s hands finally separating as she grabs her hot chocolate, already in a to-go cup, slinging her bag back across her body. “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Letitia catches the reluctance in Genesis’ voice and there’s a pang of sadness in her heart, a mixture of her overthinking their conversation and the overall emotion of not wanting Genesis to leave so soon. But she nods, and Genesis leans down slightly, kissing the top of Letitia’s head, on her cornrows before she moves towards the door, and Letitia’s head turns, watching her as she walks outside, turning right, heading opposite of Letitia’s position, the cold air greeting her quickly.

The days leading up to the trip slipped by like sand through an hourglass, each grain a moment of contemplation. Genesis stands before her open crossbody bag, its contents sparse but essential. She’s never been one to overpack, not that she’s ever had too much to work with, a few items of clothing, necessary toiletries, her sketchbook, and her camera.

As the day of departure dawns bright and early, still a grey sky filling the expanse, Genesis feels a flutter of nerves as she walks into the busy airport. Letitia had texted her the meeting point, past security, and after an hour of slow lines, she’s finally able to walk towards the space, her eyes landing on the familiar figure quickly.

Letitia’s presence is a beacon, her excitement palpable even from a distance with a big smile, and as their eyes meet, her eyes light up even more as she quickly closes the gap between them, hugging her tightly.

“I missed you.” Letitia whispers, words muffled by Genesis’ shoulder.

“You just saw me.”

But Letitia just shakes her head and they hold each other a moment longer before Letitia pulls back, taking Genesis’ hand gently, intertwining their fingers, and leading her to where the rest of the group sits, a small circle of mostly unfamiliar faces, yet Letitia doesn’t push any introductions or small talk, just leading Genesis to sit, staying close, her world seemingly shrinking to just the two of them.

The whispers they exchange are soft and intimate, gentle musings, reminiscent of actors sharing a secret joke between takes, a moment of genuine connection in midst of a scripted world. Letitia’s laughter is quiet, a sound that seems reserved just for Genesis in this last week together, her eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. Their shoulders brush together occasionally, a subtle contact that speaks of a mutual desire to remain connected.

And Genesis leans in closer, just a little, her face the same as it was when she arrived, calm, collected, yet her whisper brings a small knowing smile to Letitia’s lips. It’s a dance of dialogue, tender and loving.

Across from them, Fidji observes the scene unfold. The quiet exchanges don’t escape her notice, nor does the gentle way Genesis’ fingers reach up to gently run against Letitia’s cornrows. There’s a familiarity in these gestures, a language of touch and glance that speaks volumes.

Fidji’s glance is sharp, analytical, as if she’s trying to read this new and sudden dynamic. The way Letitia’s head tilts towards Genesis, the soft glow in her eyes. It wasn’t like that when Fidji was the one on her left side. Her lips press into a thin line, and she takes a slow sip of her drink, ice clinking against the glass like a punctuation to her unspoken thoughts. There’s an unmistakeable hint of distaste in her expression that reveals more than any words can, and she looks away before either of them notice, looking back to her sisters as they still continue to converse.

The boarding call for their flight eventually breaks the cocoon around Genesis and Letitia, the group gathering their belongings, the transition from the lounge shifting the energy surrounding them. Letitia stands, her hand slipping into Genesis’ with ease once more.

They join the line, the group’s dynamic subtly shifting at the reality of the departure setting in. Letitia’s hand gently squeezes Genesis’ as she leans in close to her ear, whispering.

“You okay?”

Genesis only nods and soon they finally cross the threshold into the bridge, the tight space bringing them even closer together, their quiet whispers seeming to funnel back to them, a reflection of their words and Letitia’s laughter remains quiet but heartfelt, an affectionate sound that seeps into Genesis’ heart.

Fidji walks several paces ahead, her posture perfect and stride confident, yet there’s a tightness around her eyes, acutely aware of Genesis and Letitia’s closeness from behind her. But she doesn’t look back, her grip on her boarding pass tightening, betraying her seemingly cool exterior, but they don’t notice.

The group files onto the plane, the seats of first-class wide and inviting, something Genesis has never experienced, a promise of comfort and isolation away from others.

They find their seats, beside one another, sinking into them, and Genesis looks around at all that’s available in this small space, and her eyes fall to Letitia, who gives her an almost teasing smile. But Genesis just slowly raises the cover between them, chuckling at Letitia’s playfully offended voice, before stopping, lowering it again, only doing it originally to mess with her.

As the plane eventually begins to taxi, Genesis slouches back in her seat, head resting back, allowing the engine to be her lullaby as her eyes start to fall closed, body still recovering from jet lag, and everything around her fades into darkness.

Suddenly, she sees the expansive field in Guyana, in the distance a fire roaring, casting the sky in an ominous glow. Yet, there’s nothing more.

But a single sound pierces through— the hum. A melody that seems to emerge from the very depths of her mind, the sound leaving the same effect it always does.

It’s a tune laden with emotion and history, yet she still doesn’t recognize it, she doesn’t see it as a thread connecting her to her past, calling to her. It’s just simply there, a calming vibration in the expanse of her subconscious, pulling her gently, leading her deeper in sleep.

As Genesis fades further into the dream, the landscape of which she sees begins to dissolve into shadow and the hum becomes everything, a soothing lullaby carrying her away and into the darkness. And soon, there’s only stillness.

Just the hum and the dark

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Morning in Lisbon greets Genesis with a subtle shift, one she been observing silently since the night prior, Letitia’s generosity in paying for the suite, now seemingly fostering a sense of entitlement among the sisters, the ease in which they take her kindness as due.

They spent the morning exploring the city’s streets, walking as a group, but Letitia, who was a constant at Genesis’ side the day before, now moves with fluidity ahead, and Genesis’ eyes are on her back as she walks slightly behind Fidji, talking with her quietly and Genesis hears her laugh.

She lags behind, letting the distance grow, a small experiment to test if her absence from the constellation is noticed. But the movement and conversation just continues to move forward without pause, laughter and playful musings rising over the quiet-ish streets.

And Genesis only sighs, maintaining her pace as the pieces in her mind start to connect.

As the day trails on, Genesis notices the same things over and over, Letitia’s personality shifting to a person she’s not even sure she recognizes. It’s been her fear since that night in Milan, maybe even a little before that, and she knew she was going to have to keep an eye on it, and it’s what she expected.

They’re at a club in the night, a little separation in the group, maybe needed. Letitia and her friends are kind of gathered, drinking wine or whatever thing of alcohol is desired at the time, but Genesis remains in her quiet corner.

Letitia’s gaze lingers on Genesis from across the room, watching as she’s engaged in easy conversation with a girl who’s a stranger to them both. There’s an unmistakable tightness that grips Letitia’s heart, an unbidden discomfort at the sight of Genesis’ gentle laughter, even tentative, being shared with someone else. When the girl departs, leaving Genesis in her peace against the wall, Letitia feels the pull towards her, discarding her half-finished drink on the bar, weaving through the crowd towards Genesis.

“Who was that?” Letitia questions, standing close enough now to notice the subtle shift in Genesis’ demeanor.

“Nobody you need to be worried of,” Genesis replies, her voice light, almost teasing, chuckling slightly as she relaxes further against the cool wall.

“And you’re laughing?” Letitia can’t help but add, the tightness in her chest now manifesting in her words.

A beat of silence falls between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts, and Genesis pushes off from the wall and edged toward the exit after a moment.

“I need some air.” She mutters, eyes remaining away from Letitia and heading outside. Yet, she doesn’t get far before she hears Letitia’s footsteps behind her, followed by her voice.

“Where are you going?” Letitia asks, following after her quickly, yet Genesis continues forward. But Letitia soon catches her, moving her body in front of hers, blocking her path.

“Move!” She calls out to her, but Letitia doesn’t budge, and Genesis pushes her back lightly, freezing in her steps. “Move, Tish!”

The reaction causes for Letitia to look at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed towards her, but Genesis’ expression is firm.

“Why you acting like some jealous teenage boy? Now you notice me, eh?”

“You think things changed suddenly? To make you go do that?” She motions to the club.

“Some things definitely changed.” Genesis says bitterly, eyes remaining on Letitia’s. “Whenever you used to do all this, the parties, the clubs, go with all types of people from who knows where doing who knows what. I know why yuh friends leave-“

“They left cause them didn’t like the life.” Letitia’s very adamant, speaking with her hands, but Genesis shakes her head. “What do you want me to do? Just suffer and suffer-“

“We are suffering, I done suffer and you didn’t even know!“ Genesis raises her voice. “Yuh used to come and go, I had to watch you with all those women-“

“And you’re any different?”

In that moment, a sound falls off of Genesis’ lips, a slight sucking sound, audible of distaste and annoyance as she attempts to walk past her again, only to have her bicep grabbed and Genesis swings, her hand coming into contact with Letitia’s cheek, the sound not too harsh, but audible enough to turn Letitia’s head, her hand flying to her cheek as she turns her head back towards her, yet it’s not from pain, but from the surprise of Genesis’ action. A rare break in her always steady composure both of them staring at each other in the tension.

“Who really care for you, Tish? Your ‘friends’… spending all your money, using your likeness…”

In the aftermath of the unexpected contact, a shock runs through both women, an electric current of reality jarring them from the night’s indulgent fantasy.

“You swim in pollution, you get polluted,” Genesis continues, pressing her finger to her chest with conviction, her gesture punctuating her plea. It’s a reminder of their shared values, of conversations that had previously woven the fabric of their bond—conversations about authenticity, integrity, and the seductive danger of losing oneself to a world that takes more than it gives.

Their eyes lock then, two forces of nature caught in a moment of raw honesty. Genesis’ words hanging in the air between them, a stark truth that strips away the veneer of the evening’s glamour.

“We used to talk of this and everything else when you only had a few fancy shirts!” Genesis’s fingers grip the material of Letitia’s jacket, a tactile echo of her words. “It’s time to wake up. Wake up, Tish!”

The air around them is charged with the intensity of the moment. Letitia’s eyes, previously hardened by defensiveness, are now more gentle, the layers of realization and vulnerability blending into a look of awakening. She can see Genesis— not just the woman before her, but the essence of the person she knows, the one who has always dared to speak the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. The one who’s always been there to catch her.

And she can finally see the reality of the life she’s brought onto herself

Increasing overwhelmed and overstimulated, Genesis attempts to pull away, a well of emotions churning inside her, starting to walk off, but Letitia’s instincts kick in quickly. She catches up, reaching out swiftly, her fingers wrapping around Genesis’s forearm, an unspoken plea for her to not react like she did a moment ago. Genesis’ muscles tense in response, her instinct to flee momentarily overwhelming her desire to reconcile, something Letitia can feel.

“Genesis, wait,” Letitia implores, her voice tinged with desperation.

Genesis’s movement doesn’t halt much, though her body language speaks of her inner turmoil. She continues to try and step forward, to extricate herself from the situation, but Letitia isn’t letting her slip away, not now, not like this.

In a fluid motion born out of urgency, Letitia steps closer, her arms encircling Genesis in a firm yet gentle hold.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, her voice a whisper against the night. “Please.”

Genesis’ natural instinct is to resist, to shake off the hold and find refuge in the quiet streets of Lisbon. She still tries to pull away, her movements born of a reflex to escape confrontation and vulnerability. But Letitia, driven by a sudden clarity of what’s at stake, refuses to let her go again.

“I’m sorry…” Letitia murmurs again, a mantra of reconciliation. “I’m sorry…”

The words reverberate through the small space they occupy, weaving a spell that seems to slow the world around them. Genesis can hear the genuine regret in Letitia’s tone, the vibration of her voice repeating the words over and over in her ear, resonating with a truth that’s impossible to ignore.

And something in Genesis yields, a wall within her crumbling, allowing the sincerity of the moment to seep through the cracks. Her body relaxes against Letitia’s, the fight to pull away diminishing with each shared breath, each whispered word.

In the cocoon of Letitia’s arms, Genesis allows the silence to envelop them, a sanctuary from the night’s earlier chaos, now filled only with the sound of their breathing and the distant melody from the club’s interior.

The embrace becomes their entire world, a haven amidst uncertainty. Letitia’s apologies still continue, even more hushed, hanging in the air, her breath warm on Genesis’s ear, a silent testament to the intensity of the moment.

Genesis soon shifts ever so slightly, her movements delicate but intentional, gently pulling Letitia back enough to see her face, and without a word, Genesis closes the small distance between them, pressing her lips to Letitia’s, shutting up her quiet ramble, grounding her.

The kiss lingers, a slow and gentle mingling that speaks volumes, each soft brush of their lips a reaffirmation of connection and care. And when they finally pull away, there’s a breathless quality to the space between them, as if the air itself is charged with the intensity and tension radiating off of them.

Letitia’s eyes remain closed for a moment longer, savoring the feeling. Genesis’ does as well, brushing a thumb across Letitia’s cheek, tracing the line where her own hand had made contact earlier, erasing any remnants of the night’s earlier tension.

“Don’t lose yourself… yuh hear?” Genesis voices quietly, voice still breathless. “And you do all that again and I’m gone.”

There’s silence between them even as Letitia nods in understanding, relaxing under Genesis’ touch.

Letitia’s eyes flutter open, her gaze looking upon Genesis with a vulnerability that only the raw honesty of love can elicit, the threat hanging in the air between them is a revelation, a crystallizing moment that anchors Letitia to the spot.

They head back to the hotel with fingers entwined, Letitia leading the way to a newly acquired room, a decision made in silent understanding that they need isolation from the sisters, from everything that can intrude on the sanctity of the newfound understanding. She procurers them their own space, a quiet sanctuary where the outside world can be kept at bay, allowing them to be alone with each other and their thoughts.

The room’s dimly lit, the soft glow of bedside lamps casting gentle shadows across the walls, creating a cocoon of warmth and privacy. They lay side by side on the bed, their bodies close but not touching, enveloped in a shared silence that’s as comforting as it is communicative. The tumultuous emotions of the night have given way to a calm understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of the depth of their connection.

As they lay there, the noise of the city seems distant, irrelevant even. The quiet between them, a healing space, a soft fabric woven from threads of tension and tender realization. Letitia soon turns her head to look at Genesis, her eyes conveying the emotions that words can scarcely capture.

“Thank you,” She whispered, her voice barely audible yet clear in the stillness of the room. “Thank you for finding me.”

It’s a simple statement, but laden with meaning—recognition of how Genesis has seen through the facade, has reached past the surface and pulled Letitia back from the brink of losing herself. It’s an acknowledgment of Genesis’s strength, her unwillingness to let Letitia drift away, and her courage in confronting the painful truths.

Genesis turns to face Letitia, their eyes meeting in the semi-darkness, a silent conversation passing between them. She reaches out then, her hand gently brushing Letitia’s cheek once more, a mirror of the earlier gesture that had marked the beginning of their night’s emotional journey.

Her gaze is full of emotion and in the semi-darkness, their eyes lock, communicating more than words ever can. The air around them seems charged with the intensity of their connection, each breath a shared rhythm.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Genesis leans in, pressing her lips to Letitia’s in a kiss.

And she can feel it. How the woman she knew had returned to her.

#letitia wright #letitia wright fanfic #letitia fanfic #shai’s oc #no woman no cry fic

24 notes · View notes

shih-coulda-had-it · 2 years

Note

Duo holders and "3 kisses that travel from your lover's nose to their lips" if you would like?

hell yeah!! wc: 581 | established duo holders, canon verse, tw for kind of a light glossing over yoichi's life pre-rescue

Kenji found Yoichi in the bathroom, staring intently at his reflection in the small mirror used exclusively to help Kenji shave. He doubted it was out of vanity. Yoichi was unlike his older brother in that aspect; whereas All for One would outsource his dirty work to keep his hands clean, Yoichi grimly followed where Kenji led, armed with a knife.

“Alright there?” he asked, drawing up behind him.

“No,” the other man grumbled. He combed his fingers through his hair, pushing the bangs all the way back to expose his forehead. And then he did a strange thing: he tugged at the point of his nose. “I look like him, don’t I?”

“Like All for One?”

Yoichi shot him a withering look through the mirror, but refocused on prodding certain parts of his face. The nose was a repeated target; his cheekbones attracted less self-criticism, but the thin set of lips turned into a fixed frown until Yoichi blew out an exasperated breath and leaned into Kenji, who had watched all this quietly.

“You could break my nose,” Yoichi mused aloud.

Kenji twitched. “Uh. I’d rather not. And don’t think you can ask Sanjuro to do it either.”

“I’d look cool,” he insisted.

“I won’t cause you unnecessary pain, especially if your motivation is for looks.” Even if Yoichi had been spared any violent abuse from All for One, the self-imposed hunger strikes and lightless solitary confinement would be enough to reduce any man’s tolerance for discomfort. “What’s brought this on? Did someone say something?”

“Nobody said anything. I just--happened to really look at myself in the mirror today, and I thought I saw nii-san.”

“Hm.” He rested his chin on Yoichi’s right shoulder and studied his lover’s appearance. Hadn’t Kenji’s first thought upon cracking open that vault been, ‘Holy shit, I forgot there’s two of them?’ But as the seconds passed, Kenji had registered the vast differences between the two Shigaraki brothers, and he never regretted his decision to spare Yoichi’s life.

“I know you see it too.”

“Maybe,” Kenji conceded.

“It’s the nose,” Yoichi despaired. “We inherited it from our father. I look different from nii-san in every other way, and yet if I turn my head like so,” and Kenji was treated to a good-looking profile of a disgruntled Yoichi, “I see him.”

Kenji eased up his hold on Yoichi in order to turn him completely away from the mirror, backing him up against the sink. He peered down into the set of glaring green eyes and inwardly sighed, lamenting his change of reputation from ‘merciless leader of a rebellion’ to ‘whipped manager of a guerrilla network.’

“This face,” he informed Yoichi dryly, “belongs to my favorite person.” And Kenji pressed his lips to the bridge of Yoichi’s thin, sharp nose, traveling down a light path to the tip. “The resemblance is superficial. I don’t see anyone but Shigaraki Yoichi here.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic.”

“Pot, kettle,” said Kenji. He thought about the frantic desperation that provided the initial spark to the rebels, the edge they maintained by living in a constant state of cynicism and terror. Nowadays, Kenji thought less about dying in battle and more about returning home, even though home was a traveling camp spread across a countless number of ramshackle safehouses.

“If you and Sanjuro aren’t going to help me, I’ll run into a wall,” Yoichi threatened.

“Your sprint isn’t that good,” he laughed, and stole his lover’s next argument by kissing them.

#bnha #duo holders #shigaraki yoichi #second ofa user #shih.txt #asks #anon #you wouldn't believe how much i need 370 to spill 2nd and 3rd's names #i'm really trying to wait the manga out before i finish ofatober #it's already brought me second's quirk #surely their names won't be far behind

89 notes · View notes

stocky2016 · 4 months

Text

A brief respite, but a "new" collaboration between "G"and "M":where poetry's soul becomes the new focus...We not only "read" but "feel" the poetry "experience" and

we sincerely both hope you enjoy and share our passions.

"Poetry's Soul"

(Inspired by the quote from Vladimir Mayakovsky (Russian, 1893-1930)

The rhythm of words comes from my poetry's soul

reflecting in life what's most evocative and whole

Whilst my creative heart is typing my poetry away

a flawless aesthetic beauty in words that are here to stay

Clarity of thoughts needs to come to the fore

finding truthful words between the lines but so much more...

The heart beats strongly its messages designed to revive

with life and its music, the never ending story we survive

We may change...the future can alter as we choose

But the sincerity and figurative words we must never lose

the steady potency of our inner poetic voice

insisting it's heard, despite the distraction of daily noise.

Words that excite me and motivate me to carry on

capturing the feeling of memories, struggles begotten

Helping me become a better poet by the time I'm done,

the challenge of writing such poetry language helps me carry on.

The richness of our language is a tool box of possibility

its enshrined in literature and uttered so passionately,

It uplifts the spirits and helping set our imagination free,

for awesome resonance to create endlessly.

Despite the challenge of a world evolving, and that never halts

our poetic essence will survive even maybe even exalt.

Becoming the emotional experience that lies deep in our souls

no matter what our eventual fate, when "shared" become "whole"

Take away my poetry, the one way I record how I feel

and you will undoubtedly expose my Achilles Heel...

I can just lose myself in composing a poetry piece,

nothing serves me better than to extending my creative space.

My soul needs to vent its feelings and to share with others

literary concepts and innovations from under the covers

But it's poetry that's my vehicle, my voice, my everything

my ultimate means of communicating.my soulful feelings.

When words intertwine in a marvellous dance,

and the pen caresses the paper, gracefully...

When verses come to life, vibrating with emotion,

then poetry is born, in a beautiful explosion.

A poem is much more than a simple assembly,

of rhymes and syllables, it transcends the ages,

It carries the soul away, lulling it to sleep,

like an impetuous torrent, ready to pour.

If a poem hasn't torn you apart,

you haven't known magic, I suggest,

for poetry, with a flaming pen,

can take you far away, to another reality.

It can be as gentle as the wind's caress,

or violent like the flames of a burning fire,

It can make you smile, cry or think,

it can reveal truths, make them spring forth.

A poem is a journey to the heart of the human soul,

a mirror in which to observe our pain,

But also our joy, our hopes and our passions,

a reflection of our lives, our emotions.

So let yourself be intoxicated by their melodies,

by these words filled with grace and poetry,

Let them touch you, embrace you with delight,

and maybe, just maybe, your soul will be conquered.

For if a poem can tear your being apart,

then you will have experienced its true greatness,

Poetry, that alchemy, that divine art,

that transcends limits and moves the human heart.

13th December 2023

(Graphics courtesy of Google Images)

5 notes · View notes

oceanlipgloss · 11 months

Text

WISHES TO THE DEVIL

BARBATOS.

+ warnings: angst.

+ my mc is the heroine, so the pronouns are feminine.

That cold night has become the finest wine—aged for years now after all—yet still an ardent flame whispering to the mirrors in her mind, a fire at the peak of its immortality.

The reflections, they were never pure, always misty; truth be told, they were rather vile—with a relentless curse, with mere twisted words—echoing in every shard of her gasping soul.

She once liked to believe that within her was never love, but burning desire—fiery longing—to understand, to try to see how that clairvoyant statue thinks, how his heart beats; for she was once a young enchantress, a goddess of tales wishing for the devil to be her muse.

However, they agreed again, her sly destiny and the emotionless demon; his calculating verdant eyes tore through her flesh and on cold stone laid her dishonest heart bare. He seemed to have the will to bury Hell in ice and shatter all glossy mirrors before she could even give the reflections a glance.

And there are nights—veiled moments like these—when she's taken back to the distant past, to a time when innocence was a rose firmly planted in her heart. So tonight she wonders; have these ripe years changed him, even if ever so slightly? In his intangible heart, has she left the slightest touch of memory?

Her poetry, that biting remembrance sealed with molten carnelian...did it ever paint ice and turn blood ever so blue into breathing colors?

These, she realises, will forever remain questions destined for solitude, never to meet their answers. But it's alright; they birthed thousands of pages—each its own tragedy—didn't they? What more could she ask for?

Years have passed, but nothing much has changed—she's still that gypsy wandering in a timeless land, exploring her enchanting mind; she's still that chaste beacon, now burning brighter than it ever did as it awaits Heaven's embrace in a fragile coffin of flesh and wilted roses—the only difference...is that her heart no longer knows lies.

Anguish was all he ever gave, yet he remained a priest, his very existence the shrine of her peace; so when fallen on her knees to pray, the wishes upon her lips sing to the devil—for that night, with her own eyes she witnessed ink make love to paper in warm candlelight, and so the venom on his tongue gracefully turn into a timeless verse.

“Reality is mere flame flickering in my hands. I neither see nor desire the future you wish for.”

+note: this was my breakthrough piece from back when I had my old writing blog—which I later deleted in April 2022—a blog under the same name, @oceanlipgloss.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me swd #om! shall we date #om! swd #shall we date? obey me!#obey me barbatos #om! barbatos #swd barbatos #shall we date barbatos #obey me shall we date #obmswd #the story factory

9 notes · View notes

wynterlanding · 6 months

Text

Vampire verse edition: Landon goes about keeping his photography studio going and his secret hidden until Muse B discovers his lack of reflection in mirrors/odd nightly behavior. Choosing to confront him at a pivotal point they knowingly put their life on the line. However their proposal is intriguing. They believe they have a way to 'cure' Landon of his vampirism.

Plot open to f/nb muses with a scientific background, doctor, etc. Blood specialists preferred to make sense. Plotting & single continuous thread heavy. Builds from the beginning & does not drop in the middle. End game plot oriented. Comment or dm if genuinely interested.

#depraved stories from the underground! wishes #vamp boi! wishes #!! do not reblog this!#indie roleplay #indie horror rp

4 notes · View notes

arcanescionmoved · 10 months

Text

SHIPPING INFO: Caitlyn Kiramman.

ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

Tagged by: @misfits-of-zaun, @misstantabismuses, @independentzaun, @saviourofzaun Tagging: @hxundsprxdigy, @freedomsbounty, @legendscried, @bioniczaunites, almost everyone has done this already so XD

1. WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER?

I won't lie, I absolutely love Caitlyn x Vi (violyn, what a pretty ship name), however, I feel liek saying OTP means I'm exclusive to such things? Caitlyn and Vi are soulmates in my eyes, they will always be meant for each other; however with roleplaying, there is so much more we can go into. And that includes OCs!! So while I love this ship, I am not exclusive to it and that's all I'll write.

2. HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

Caitlyn is around 25 years old (In her Baroness verse its conditional. could be 25 as well or older as 35/38). I would say the most I go with with caitlyn is perhaps 20 years pushing it. In reading it, I'm not bothered as long as things are tagged, but arcane is filled with very dark themes and its there. Caitlyn in IC setting would not go any further then at most 20 years difference.

3. HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW?

For me, I'm not troubled by anything nsfw, whether its sexual, violence, or other topics in that area. So in terms of sexual relationships, I feel like for it to be considered nsfw is when hands start moving. They could be fully clothed, but its still the groping, hands slipping under shirts/pants, even intense make-out sessions I think would all quality for being nsfw.

That being said, nsfw for me is more of a warning to those who write with me. just hey, this is getting spicy and if you don't like it turn away because I typically do write out nsfw scenes including smut. I enjoy the writing of it because its a part of the characters and their developing relationship.

In terms of violence, again, its part of the story, no matter how ugly it is. I would say nsfw in violence if blades/weapons come out, and the writing is visual it would be marked as well.

5. WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

Alright, the fun part!! So, I haven't been around much to truly establish much, but I have a few ships that I've gotten to play around with!

Naturally, I have Caitlyn and Vi, and what I love about my ships with them is like, with everyone I write with the ships are different. Caitlyn has different connections with different Vis because all writers play them differently! I first started writing with @freedomsbounty and her Vi, and we kind of changed things up where Vi didn't walk away in teh rain in that angst, but actually decided to embrace her feelings and then promised to return. So its definitely a different way.

But then I have my ship with @misstantabismuses which is far more in depth with spreading out the timeline to be longer, rather then working in what looked like 'days' in teh show. So its this first developed partnership/friends, bonding on a level of noticing each other and then in time this whole '...oh shit.... I think I like her what do I do' and exploring this sort of long-term development from work partners to friendship to lovers.

So I of course love exploring with any Vi and I'm open to it (which I hope it would be known that I would never force a ship! I do ship them but I am not going to be like 'your vi has to like caitlyn' sort of thing).

As for other ships, some I'm exploring is with my Baroness Caitlyn, she has a relationship with Jinx as well! Its definitely a unique perspective in the mirror reflection of Piltover Caitlyn being with Vi, but here Zaunite Caitlyn is with Jinx. There's also an exploration between Baroness Caitlyn and Sevika, where Sevika works for Caitlyn in a sort of 'trade off contract with Silco where Sevika is now her body guard. Fun things to play with!

I also am open to other ships not just exclusively romantic. For example, @legendscried Jayce and Caitlyn are absolutely in a found family relationship. They grew up both as misfits, both having heritage from other lands, and just overall connecting with each other and finding comfort in the other. They develop a brotherly/sisterly bond and its a very strong one. I briefly touched based with @astrxae to and the possibility of Caitlyn having a big sister in Irisa which will be fun to explore!! And then oh, Oh the twisted AU with @independentzaun where Caitlyn and Jinx are half sisters! This whole complicated mess with that and the whole "How far will you go to take care of your sister" while also, ALSO dealing with the resentment of teh past and unable to forgive and forget. And then having Vi in it with her head going 'your her half sister, i'm her half sister, but caitlyn and vi aren't related' like the mind fuckery of this whole situation is absolutely hilarious!

But yes, that being said, I'm open to trying so many things and open to exploration of all ships if we plot and play around with it!

6. DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

Yes. While I am open to shipping, I don't like being thrown things at with no plotting behind it. That being said, I'm very much an open communication channel, I have tumblr DMs as well as Discord (I prefer discord cause I can sometimes get obsessed and excited and write PARAGRAPHS worth of things). But I'm very much one for establishing a relationship before writing it. I like to make sure like, a character will click wiht Caitlyn and that chemistry through OOC talking.

I'm not one to be like 'we have to write 5 threads to see if chemistry works', but my form of checking on chemistry is talking ooc and seeing how one action reacts to the other and so on. If that chemistry is establish, then its ten times easier to start writing a ship.

So basically, come talk to me OOC. 99% of the time, I'm sure i'll ship, I just need to be able to talk and ramble and plot with you.

7. ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

So, I don't quite understand this just because, I don't know? I love ships, but not exclusively romantic. I'm in for all the ships, whether its romantic, platonic, even antagonistic! I'm here to write and enjoy teh development between characters. So if I develop a ship it happens.

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

I love all my ships, I have several of them so its more, like, I just enjoy writing them! Whether its Caitlyn x Vi, or exploring the realms of other ships, I wouldn't say I have a favorite. Because all of them are my favorites, that's why I'm writing them! A few to list that I'm enjoying playing with are Caitlyn x Vi, Caitlyn x Sevika, Caitlyn x Jinx, Caitlyn x Ran, I also have my platonic ships with Caitlyn x Jayce, Caitlyn x Irisa (OC). There is also an new antagonistic ship i'm getting with Caitlyn x Neopolitian which is going to be a very of Sherlock x Moriarty which is gunna be hella fun I bet!

Honestly, if we have a ship, its a favorite.

9. FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

Message me and go 'CAN I OFFER YOU THIS MUSE!?' and then we talk. Really simple. I won't automatically say yes, but like I said. OOC communication and checking chemistry by talking.

#[wolf speaks] — personal games.#redid it #since i failed in my copy to repost it #so people could see #so yeah #ugh

6 notes · View notes

freak1ish · 10 months

Text