Tumgik
#also you have no choice but to see dawn when the sun comes up at like 8am in the morning during the winter
ceilidho · 3 months
Text
exit, no entry wound joe bear graves x reader; part 1 (3.8k)
-
Local time at destination: 0500 hours.
And then the world rushes back to him like the culmination of a terrible dream.
Bear wakes up in another rosebush outside the front steps of the local library worse for wear. Blinking out of sleep-crusted eyes, shapes diverging in blurry unfocus before slipping back into material objects. A bench. A door. The thorny stems of roses already on their way out, already depetalling, the ground below covered in a thin layer of them. One petal even sticking to his cheek when he pulls himself off the ground, wincing at the branches that crunch around him, that tug against his skin and clothes.
His clothes smell of cheap liquor. Gin. Bourbon. It hurts to open his eyes, to sit up. 
“Morning, sunshine,” someone says. He remembers hearing it in his dream too. 
He looks to the source of his awakening, blanching when he notices the man staring at him.
Rip sits on the other side of the bushes on his haunches, looking deeply unimpressed. Hair slicked back for a change. “This what you get up to when I’m gone?”
Bear doesn’t respond. He struggles to his feet instead, hangover only just creeping in. Still drunk, to an extent. His knees threaten to buckle under him, forcing him to lay a hand flat on the wall to keep himself upright. One foot in front of the other. The walk home feels endless in the hour before dawn, hardly any light to guide him. 
“Pretty pathetic shit, Bear,” the man says, trailing along behind him. Not quite mockingly, but bordering on it. “Getting piss drunk and passing out in a bush? Really? C’mon, man. You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”
There’s no sense in responding, Bear knows that now. No sense in even turning around to look. One foot in front of the other. Stumbling home alone under the cloak of night, dawn just around the corner; terrified that one day he’ll have to see it—the sun coming over the mountains, over the horizon. 
It’s been less than a year. He hasn’t yet made his amends with God. Forgiveness sits outside of him. Not quite the right time to let it in. Maybe that time passed a long time ago, a small aperture that shuttered closed at the approach of his eyes. He missed it sometime between killing a boy and losing his mind.
A man cannot hold himself up on the scaffolding of the world alone. There has to be something beneath him. There is no sense in repeating the horrors of the world back to him; he’s already lived them. He’s got something of a Midas touch for death. 
The months have been long since the divorce was finalised, since Lena left for good, since Buckley died, since Rip—since it all went down. If he thinks about it for too long, it seems like a nightmare that he woke up from still mad about; a nightmare he had no choice but to drink himself into a stupor over to escape. That’s the reality of the world. 
“You know, Bear, you’re not the one that’s fuckin’ dead,” Rip spits as he follows behind, matching Bear’s stumbling gait stride for stride. “So you can stop acting like it.”
There’s a truth in Rip’s words and it leaves him feeling nauseous. There’s also a kink in his neck and a headache threatening to split his forehead open. In the belly of him, he has a truth that says that the firmament of heaven is beyond his reach. When he looks up and the sky is void of coruscating light, the meagre stars like an exit with no entry wound, it doesn’t surprise him. Of course there wouldn’t be anything there.
On a good day, his heart feels like it’s weathered a siege. 
“So she left you! It’s time to fuckin’ move on. Go to a bar—I mean, you already are, so step one done—and pick someone up. Go on Christian Mingle or something. You keep living your life like this and you’re going to wind up killing yourself. And then the fuck good that’ll do?”
It takes everything in him to not turn around and do something rash. Only the nausea keeps him from making any sudden movements. Even if he were to turn around and do something, his knees would probably buckle under him. Probably throw up the contents of his stomach. Not much in there either. It rumbles when he thinks that, clenching at the thought of food. Then it twists, the nausea returning. 
One foot in front of the other. The walk home takes twice as long, his whole body aching.
“Heard you almost quit. Wouldn’t be the worst idea you ever had. Let Buddha take over—he’s earned it. Get yourself a nice piece of land in fuckin’…Montana or something. Couple cows, maybe some chicken—you could get a dog, Christ. You look like a guy who’d have a dog. Why don’t you have a dog, actually? You would’ve told me if you didn’t like dogs, so it’s not that.”
His forehead is greasy when he touches it to rub his head. Body secreting poison in his sleep. Oily. The corners of his lips crack when he yawns. It’s not like he’s never thought about a dog, about having something to care for, another living thing in his house. 
But—
(“Bear? …I don’t think we should have a child.”)
What he wants often falls to the wayside, slides off him like a glancing blow. 
Her old, familiar shape appears at the sudden loss of a dream: one where Lena’s gaze lingers on him long enough to burn; but then it is the sun.
Bear watches dawn break. Sunday morning. In a different life, he would’ve squinted into the light of a new day and closed his eyes against it, curling into the slighter body tucked into his chest for another hour of rest. Felt the rise and fall of her chest. Woken up to a hot mouth on his cock or fingers curling in his chest hair, petal lips seeking him out. Church after that, showering off the remnants of their morning, solemn in their pews with their chests still holding the laughter of an hour previous. Light as air, as a feather. 
He won’t go to church today; hasn’t in months. Not with the guilt of missing it the week before trailing after him, each missed week compounding month after month. The cracks in his faith webbing. Splintering out like stepping on the lake when it freezes over in the winter, crunching under his boot until he holds his place. Conscious that it could break under his feet.
“I grew up with a dog,” Bear finally responds, voice hoarse. First thing he’s said since last call at the bar. 
“Yeah. Figures. What kind?”
“Black lab. We called her Daisy.”
It’s another lifetime ago. Still living in his parent’s house, Daisy curled by his dad’s feet, her favourite spot to sleep. Television playing at a low volume, mom at the kitchen table doing her crossword, ink bleeding into the side of her hand. It’s been a long time since Bear buried all of them. He’s buried countless people since. 
“What—can’t get another? One and done? That’s how everything works for you?”
Teeth raze across his skin again. Trust Rip to always cut to the quick. Finally back in his neighbourhood at least, the street empty apart from the cars parked in their driveways or along the sidewalk. Bear’s stomach rumbles something fierce now, entreating him to eat. Worse than hunger is how he’d kill for a glass of water though. Anything to settle his head.
“Haven’t wanted a dog,” Bear grumbles, then clears his throat.
“Yeah, you have,” Rip scoffs. Bear hears him kick a rock, sending it skidding across the asphalt. 
“Fuck off.”
Heart silicified in his chest, composed of fossilised shells and rocks and bones. It feels heavy in his chest. 
He turns down the street leading to his house. 
“Gotta let someone else in, Bear. Girl, dog—whatever. You can’t keep this up forever or it’ll kill you.”
When he turns around at the door, fishing in his pocket for his keys, the sidewalk beyond his house is empty. 
(So a man lies down and rises not again; till the heavens are no more he will not awake or be roused out of his sleep.)
Tumblr media
Every Friday like clockwork, Bear stops at the diner down the street for a coffee and a slice of cherry pie before heading to the bar. 
Today is like any other. He leaves the house with only his keys and wallet and walks the long twenty minutes to the diner. Every time he fights the urge to drive, but there has to be something holding him in place. A reason not to throw it all away. 
It’s never completely empty when he shows up, but it’s never full either. His seat at the back of the room is open as usual, like they put up a sign before he comes ambling down the street that says Reserved for Joe Graves and then pluck it away before he opens the door. It’d be nice if that were the case. Nice to have something just for him for a change. The thought comes with its accompanying pang of shame. Desire is a dangerous thing; anything he’s ever wanted has come at him with sharpened teeth, clamping down on his leg and ripping through the flesh. Bear trap for old Bear. 
He slides into the booth and waits for someone to notice him. Never bothers to flag someone down—if it’s ten minutes or even half an hour before he’s served, that’s fine by him. 
“Hiya,” a clear voice says to his right, pulling him away from staring through the blinds out the window. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea?”
The face Bear turns to meet is pleasant, smiling. Wide and untroubled. It’s not a face he recognizes though, despite months coming to this diner and becoming familiar with the staff. If he had to guess, he’d bet she only started a few days ago, maybe a week at most. She still has the sparkle of someone who hasn’t had the goodness beaten out of them yet. 
“Coffee,” he says, his own smile strained. “And a slice of pie.”
“Sure—we have key lime, blueberry, apple—”
“Cherry,” he interrupts, not letting her build steam. The wick in his chest burns too low for any conversation. The quick flicker of her brow makes the shame in his chest swell again. Forgive me sitting on his lips, unsaid. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I do this. 
She nods and scurries off to the back, skirt swishing with her movements. Bear notices only because his eyes get stuck there, somewhere between the curves of her hips and the roundness of her ass. When he realizes where he’s let his mind wander, he pulls it back, flattening his lips into a hard line. Any sort of indulgence feels wrong, a taking that shouldn’t be taken. He hasn’t even begun to pay penance for all the damage he’s wrought. 
It’s only on her way back that Bear notices the small bump protruding from under her apron. His mouth goes dry. When she reaches him again, he wordlessly accepts the cup of coffee and her reassurance that the pie will be out in just a minute. For a moment, he can hardly meet her gaze, eyes locked on the gentle curve of her belly, caught off guard in a way he hasn’t been in months. 
The first thought with any clarity is, what is she doing working here? A crummy diner on a Friday night. Down the street from an even sleazier pub. His second thought is to look outside at the poorly lit stretch of road and think that this is no place for a pregnant woman to be alone. He recognizes each car in the parking lot save one, likely hers. Drove herself here with the expectation of driving herself home at the end of the night.
If it had been Lena—well, he never would’ve let it be Lena, but if it had been, Bear can’t imagine letting his pregnant wife drive herself home in the middle of the night. Can hardly stomach the thought. 
She’s not Lena though, so he has no right. 
She’s gone before he has time to say anything else, skirt swishing behind her. It catches his eye again. When he tears his gaze away for a second time, he swallows back the metallic taste of self-loathing. It curdles in his mouth. It’s the sign telling him to stop coveting, stop looking out into the world and wondering what he can take. It’s his hamartia, his fatal flaw; thinking himself above the reproach of God. Thinking that he can kill, fuck, curse, and stray farther and farther from the light only to find his way back in the dark. 
The bell above the door rings when someone else comes in and Bear tenses. His shoulders only relax when two older women step in and head to a table. 
He watches as she picks up a plate from the pass-through window and heads back towards him. When she places it in front of him, he draws a deep breath in, trying to catch more than just the aroma of fresh baked cherries. 
“Here we go…one slice of cherry pie, straight out of the oven.”
“Thanks, honey,” Bear rumbles, smile finally meeting his eyes. 
“No trouble. The guys in the back said they make it special for you. Joe, right?”
That gets him to levy her with the full weight of his attention. The thought of her asking about him. “I go by Bear.”
“Oh. Alright, Bear.” She twists the word around in her mouth and seems to find it satisfying. “I think I’ve heard your name before. You were—I mean, you’re part of Pastor Adams’ parish, right?”
He clears his throat, cutting off the triangle point of his pie with the side of his fork. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Me too,” she confides, voice a low whisper. A secret between strangers. She doesn’t glance around though, doesn’t bother to draw out the ruse. “Or, I was, anyway. Haven’t been to service in awhile. I, um…I remember you. From a year or so back. You and your—um…you and your wife used to always sit up at the front.”
The fork scrapes against the plate. “Ex-wife.”
He catches her wince from the corner of his eye. “Oh. Sorry. You just—” She doesn’t have to say it. The slight dip of her eyes tells him all he has to know, and besides, it’s his own fault for still wearing the ring. Even with the paperwork signed and dated, even with Lena in another state now, starting a new life without him, the thought of taking it off makes him break out in a cold sweat. 
“It’s not—” Bear starts before giving up. He curls his fingers into a fist on the table. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. Not a big deal.”
She fidgets in the silence. Bear can’t bring himself to break it or make the atmosphere less oppressive. He tenses under it, the ache in his low back worsening. These days, he always aches. Nerve damage, a disc on the verge of slipping, an old ankle injury that flares up whenever he goes running. A ghost that follows him from haunt to haunt. The ring on his finger is just another old ache. 
“So, uh—” he clears his throat, nodding to her belly. “Your first?” 
It’s inappropriate, hardly his place to ask. Incredibly intrusive for someone he’s met for the first time, a stranger just trying to do her job and serve him coffee and pie before he goes off to drink himself half to death again at the dive bar down the road. 
Still, he asks. 
Only the faintest wrinkle of her nose betrays any embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. First one.”
“Congratulations.” It’s sincere. The envy in his gut is old, but it’s a manageable pain. 
“Thanks,” she says, with a small, private smile, hand resting absently under her belly. “I’m excited. I’m only a couple months along, but, uh…it’s been a journey. Just me and baby against the world, you know.”
That stops him in his tracks. Screws up the whole course of his evening because suddenly the sound of the bell over the door jingling doesn’t draw his attention away. It stays fixed on the smiling girl to his right that just opened her mouth and said something unacceptable. 
“Where’s the dad?” he asks, far too bluntly. 
She shrugs. “Somewhere. Didn’t stick around long enough to tell me where. It’s fine though—I’ve got my little peanut. That’s all that matters.”
“You told him and he left?” 
The pie sits cooling in front of Bear as a pit in his stomach opens up. It’s a terrible, empty hole that holds truths like the fallibility of the body and the good shouldering the burdens of the world.  
He only regrets being so direct when her lip quivers, a little motion that betrays her until she wrests control over her face again. “It’s not his fault. I don’t think he was—well…you know, it was a surprise.”
“That’s—” he struggles to find his words, “—that’s not right.”
Again, she shrugs. “That’s life.”
Bear feels his eyes go hard. A coldness settles under his skin. 
In the deep, dark gut of him, only anger lives. He spends his days questioning why God has allowed everything else in his life to fall apart, has allowed countless other people to die, but refuses, for reasons unbeknownst to him, to kill him. He’s given him enough opportunity and enough reason. 
The answer he circles back to time and again is the same. An eye for an eye. Divine wrath. The litany of his sins could be sung until the end of time and there’d still be more to sing. It’s only right that there would be consequences for him. 
The rage that simmers in his blood now is twofold. It begins with the sharp pang of injustice, of witnessing a punishment meted out to someone innocent. The girl standing by the booth he’s shoved himself into, almost too small for a man of his size, cannot be deserving of the same punishment that he’s brought upon himself. She has never killed. The babe in her belly has never killed. The two of them should never have to meet at the point of two paths converging with the likes of someone like Bear and proceed down the same road together. 
Then it sinks into a familiar territory. A place at the core of him where righteousness gives way to envy, as it always does. After what he's been through, the thought of someone having everything that he's always desperately wanted handed to them on a silver platter and then sending it back leaves him feeling a bit off-kilter. Not quite right. 
“Bear?” Her voice breaks the silence. When he blinks, concerned eyes stare down at him, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he rasps, dragging a hand down his face. Shaking it off. “Sorry, I—got lost in my head. Sorry.” 
“That’s alright,” she says, again gentle in her voice and smile. “Easy place to get lost in, isn’t it?”
He makes a sound in acknowledgment. Drags the silence out. Her mouth twists shy under his scrutiny. 
“Anyway, I have a few other tables to get to, if you don’t mind. Enjoy your pie. I’ll check on you in a bit.”
He eats his slice of pie in silence as she leaves, eyes following her to her next table. Rage still sizzles under his fingertips. It makes his hands shake, old nerve damage and anger problems. 
It’s like a gun punch to think of her all on her own. It’s not right. For someone like him, well, it’s—deserved, earned. Inevitable, even. Every step taking him further away from grace, from its light. No one who knows his story would think otherwise. 
She’s a pretty thing though, this new waitress. Too tired, the bags under her eyes testament to that, no matter how well she hides them with makeup. Slightly puffy anyway, maybe from a lack of sleep or too many tears. His stomach aches at the thought. It must have come as a shock, the bottom of her world dropping out from under her when the baby’s father took off. Dragged away from the church not through her own doing, but the fault of another. Not her shame to bear, and yet. 
He forces the pie down. Bites that taste like nothing, 
Bear hears the lilt of her voice from two tables over. “Refill on your coffee, hun?” 
A supplicant sits in his place as he sips his coffee. The hour slips by into the next and it starts to come together in his mind. Why he's been forced down this long road alone, why God hasn't struck him down yet despite every terrible thing he's done. His eyes follow her flit across the diner, the light seeming to bend around her like a halation. 
When Bear looks across the room at her, he thinks, Lord, do not think I am waiting patiently for your hands. Every part of me trembles with anxiety.
(O Lord, show me I can fall apart together again; but not just yet.)
He stays until the last customer has finally left, waiting for her to come back to his table with an apologetic smile. When she does, Bear hands her his empty plate, watching her take a step back when he scoots out of the booth, rising to his full height. He makes note of the way her eyes round as they follow him up. Taller than her, unsurprisingly. Surprising though, the way her bottom lip droops just the slightest bit. 
“Is it just you closing up?” he asks, voice a tad too gruff. He clears his throat again, looking around for anyone else. 
“Well, the chef’s cleaning up in the back, but, uh—” she looks around the diner, conspicuously empty apart from the two of them. “Yeah. Just me.”
Bear gestures with his chin towards the door. “I’ll wait ‘till you’re done, then walk you to your car.”
“Oh, Joe—”
“Bear,” he corrects.
“Bear,” she amends, fingers twisting together now. He relishes the sound of it on her lips. “You don’t have to. I’m used to it, honestly. I know I just started here, but I’ve done closes before, you know.”
“I’ll wait outside.” A statement now. Stubborn. He’s always been a bit mulish, hard to shake off. 
He can tell the second she relents, shoulders slumping. “Alright. I shouldn’t be too long…you can leave if you get bored though. Won’t blame you.” 
He fights the urge to tilt her head up by the chin to make her meet his eyes. Just barely restrains himself. 
Leaning against a tree out front, he twirls the ring around his finger as he watches her clean up. For the first time in a long time, he slips it off.
728 notes · View notes
likelilacwine · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: vampire!natsuo todoroki x f!reader
word count: 3.5k
about: natsuo is handsome, well dressed, charming, and everything you’ve ever wanted but something tells you there’s more to him than meets the eye - given you can only see him after the sun sets.
contents: sfw, no smut here but suggestive behavior in the final scene. modern au, the todoroki family are vampires, natsuo is mid twenties and so is reader, a scene containing touya, fuyumi, and shoto, meet cute, reader struggles to sleep at night, mentions of blood. i will be further elaborating on this dynamic/au in the future!
notes: part of thot-o-ween 2023! welcome to week three! this is just good ol fashioned halloween romcom nonsense you'd come to expect from me. natsuo was the pinkprint and deserves his time in the sun so this is the first of TWO stories about him. the next will have smut, pinkie swear, but in the meantime hopefully this is something everyone can enjoy! thank you for reading ♡
Tumblr media
Natsuo Todoroki, at his core, is a morning person.
How is one a vampire and a morning person? The two ideas seem contradictory but it’s just who he is, unable to be changed no matter how much time passes.
As a child, he would solemnly park himself at window sills and wrap himself up in the complicated and lacy curtains his mother dressed them in to keep light from getting inside. Waking with the sweet song of the birds outside his own heavy curtained windows, he’d watch the orange ball rise higher and higher into the sea of blue that it would come to rest in, only to be pulled away by his older siblings or his mother tutting at him for messing with the curtains again.  
He wondered what it would be like to be the sun. Bright and blazing, warming everyone around him without effort. It’s just what the sun naturally does.
Now, as an adult, he shoves his hands in the pockets of his scrubs after his shift in the emergency department ends and wonders what it must be like to be the sun as he wanders out onto the streets, zipping his jacket up over his chest and sinking into the warmth. It’s cold and wet in a way that is typical of an October night, the sliver of the moon sinking lower and lower as the sun begins to make her ascent to start the day.
He works his overnight shift for obvious reasons.
Dr. Todoroki’s reputation as affable and easy to work with is something the entire shift celebrates when he’s scheduled. He is well liked but nobody bothers to ask him to stick around once the shift is over because he’ll turn down the offers anyway.
There’s nothing more that he enjoys than his walks before dawn. It’s the only time he can even get this close to daylight, to feel the world heat up while he remains cold. 
Tonight, though, he isn’t alone on his walk and he’s all too acutely aware of where you walk several feet away from him on the adjacent sidewalk. He smells you long before he sees you, one of his fangs that keeps retracted at all times jutting out of his jaw and slicing his lip, and after verifying he isn’t bleeding he decides to keep a respectable distance despite his concern for your well being.
Why in the world are you out walking the city sidewalks by yourself at 3:58 AM?
You notice him, tall and broad and wearing green scrubs that obviously indicate he just got done working at the hospital, but you keep your distance. Walking the city is a choice you make well aware of the danger that could befall you but you also live by the “don’t start any and there won’t be any” mantra when it comes to trouble. So far it has served you well but it isn’t like you’ve ventured far from where you live, only around 6 blocks away from your tiny interior apartment. 
You struggle to sleep at night, trying every remedy under the sun but it never comes, so you walk until you can’t think any longer. You pace until you stumble into your home after the sun rises, almost too exhausted to move and then finally you are tired enough to sleep. 
Looking around the sidewalk, you splash in a puddle and hear a chuckle from the sidewalk across from you. Natsuo stands, hands still buried in his pocket, glancing at you from the corner of his eye and curiosity gets the better of you so you turn in his direction with your arms folded across your chest.
“What’s so funny?” Your tone is light hearted and he catches onto it immediately, gray eyes casting you more than a sidelong glance. The distance between the two of you keeps him from getting too good of a look at you but he likes what he can see. 
Natsuo finds you undeniably attractive, there’s something sweet about you besides your scent, and it makes him even more anxious to know you’re pacing all alone. The area around the hospital tends to be pretty safe but he worries what would happen if you went further down the road, where the amount of street lights grows fewer the further you go into the residential areas. So he bites, simply in an effort to make sure that you’re alright and will be okay after he departs.
“You, I guess.”
You laugh and he feels a thousand sunrises in his chest. Whatever he witnessed through curtains, whatever he has seen rising above the horizon like a beautiful balloon in the sky will never compare to this. He isn’t sure how to act so he slaps his hands against his thighs, shrugging and offering his signature Dr. Todoroki grin, toothsome and bright.
“I’ll be here all week.”
There’s an undeniable pull between you and this man but you stop just short of walking across the street. He seems safe and trustworthy, a good haircut and a killer smile but all of those traits were also attributed to Ted Bundy at one point or another so you decide to play it safe and stay in your place across from him, arms folded over your chest to ward off the chill in the air.
He watches your body language change and tries to match it the best that he can, keeping his hands buried in his pockets and his chin tucked into the collar of his jacket. Making you anxious is the last thing he wants and he won’t prod if you aren’t interested but his gut tells him to take a chance, to break the silence and see where it gets him. 
So he does.
“Seriously though, why are you out here at this time of night?”
Shrugging, you squeeze yourself where your arms are wrapped over your torso. It’s a soothing action, the equivalent of a hug. You feel better after it.
“Do you want the long story or the short one?”
“Whichever you’re most comfortable sharing.”
He chuckles again and you focus on his face, deep dimples visible even from several feet away and your heart beats hard against your chest. He’s handsome, he’s funny, he’s obviously employed…you shake your head to loosen this line of thinking, still holding yourself tightly when he takes the steps toward you to close the gap. You hop back from the edge of the sidewalk slightly, keeping a bit of distance between the two of you, and Natsuo feels that ache in his upper jaw that indicates his teeth are going to descend.
He takes ten steps to the side of you, leaving ample room between your bodies, and the ache stops enough that he can focus on what you’re about to say. You appreciate how respectful he is of your space although you have no idea his reasons aren’t wholly altruistic and it softens you toward the man further.
“I have never really slept well at night,” you start and he hums empathetically. He understands more than you could begin to know. “Even when I was a kid, it’s like sleep terrified me. Closing my eyes and not thinking and just being for a while. What could be more terrifying than not overthinking all night?”
“I get it. I have the same problem, that’s why I’m on overnights.”
You nod, smiling at him.
"Good to know there's someone else that doesn't have good luck with melatonin gummies."
A kindred spirit. Perhaps that's why you still feel so drawn to him despite the ten big steps between your bodies and you relax for the first time since he laughed at you, taking the time to really look at him now that he's so close.
He's just as handsome as you imagined when your mind was filling in blanks from across the street, hair as white as snow, tanned complexion, gray eyes. It's intimidating to see a man who looks like he belongs in the pages of a magazine face to face, much less one who is obviously flirting with you and you shift your weight from foot to foot.
Noticing your discomfort, he decides to introduce himself.
"I'm Natsuo. I'm a doctor." He cringes at himself upon realizing what he just said but you smile, arms still folded but posture slackening. "I don't know why I felt the need to tell you that."
You introduce yourself and he takes the time to memorize your name, repeating it and savoring the feeling of it across his tongue. A name as pretty as the person carrying it.
"It's okay, at least I know that you aren't some creep that stole a pair of scrubs off of the dude you just beat down for them. Unless..."
Natsuo laughs and heat rushes to your cheeks.
"Nah, I'm more of a lover than a fighter. My fatal flaw some might say."
You laugh and that same feeling blooms within him, rivaling the sun that is steadily beginning to rise over the buildings in the distance. He sighs when he sees it, removing his hand from his pocket and rubbing it over his face.
"I don't want to be weird or anything but I do this every night and..." he trails off, uncertain of what he wants to ask you, but you seem to get the message.
"I do, too. Same place and same time?"
Smiling, he nods and begins to walk in the direction opposite you toward where his car is parked at the hospital. He has to get home before the sun rises and he'll be cutting it close if he continues to slow play his departure but it's worth it for another second spent around you.
"Thanks for tonight. I needed it," you admit aloud and his ears turn red in response, bright and vivid through the snowy white hair barely covering them.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Tumblr media
“Where do you think you’re off to lookin’ so pretty?”
Natsuo rolls his eyes as he readjusts the buttons of the long sleeved shirt he donned just for the occasion of the evening while his brother reaches up and attempts to ruffle his meticulously spiked hair. It isn’t hard work for him to dodge his shorter brother but he shoves him with his shoulder anyway, frowning. 
“Stop it, Touya. I’m not going anywhere you need to know about.”
The thing about saying those words in reference to you, feeling them leave his lips in shapes he would rather not experience, is that they make his stomach flip. Anxiety turns the organ inside out, the man sighing through an army of uneasy butterflies in his stomach. He knows he can’t tell anyone about you, least of all his family. They have their own secrets but they’ve always strictly forbidden the taboo romance between a vampire and a human knowing it only ends in pain.
He’ll risk the trouble for you, though.
You - sweet, easy going, beautiful. Glowing with life beneath the dimly lit booths you snuggle in to press your knees against his long after the sun has set. Grinning as you grab his hand beneath the surface of the bar four blocks away from your apartment and two away from the hospital, the floors sticky with substances neither of you have cared to imagine. 
It has been months since that fateful first dawn walk, the two of you making a habit out of striding side by side. Natsuo ignores the ache in his jaw, you ignore the way he hasn't asked you for anything physical yet beyond holding hands, assuming he's just a little old fashioned.
“I’m starting to think you have a secret, little brother.”
He's keeping secrets from more than just Touya; the guilt gnaws at him if he thinks about it too long so he doesn't.
Natsuo shakes his head and raises his brows, a smirk playing across his lips. He happens to know where his own brother goes after the sun sets, eagerly bringing books and paintings to the home of the vampire that has been alleged to have started their family curse by biting Enji, their father; a woman perpetually 26 despite the many many centuries that have passed since her turn. 
“No worse than the one you’re keeping, I can assure you that.”
With that, Touya clears his throat and takes his space, fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants rather than making eye contact with his brother. Caught red handed and he knows it, he chooses to play offense rather than explain himself.
“You know about that?”
His younger brother smiles and claps him on the back with a nod.
“Keep mine and I’ll keep yours?”
“Obviously, dumbass.”
Taking a deep breath, Natsuo rolls his shoulders and lifts his hands to his hair, fingers running through it to calm him down. He yanks at the strands for a moment, thick fingers twining between the white strands, and Touya wonders what has him so uncertain. 
It’s not like he’s dating a human.
“I’m seeing someone and we have a date tonight.”
Oh, he’s dating a human.
“Jesus, Natsu,” Touya’s brows pinch together in the middle and he wraps an arm around his brothers’ shoulder, pulling him to his side. “You’re such a simp.”
Scoffing, the taller of the two looks down at his brother and frowns. He’s never truly astounded by Touya’s audacity but it does catch him off guard considering the only bigger rule you can break than consorting with a human in the Todoroki household is the one he’s currently attempting to bend.
“Who taught you that word? Your thousand year old girlfriend?” Touya returns his scoff, shoving him with the arm that isn’t wrapped around his shoulder and raising his voice. “She isn’t a thousand fuckin-”
Before he can finish the sentence, Fuyumi peaks around the corner and arches her brow wordlessly. Neither of the men can hide anything from their older sister so they don't bother, scooting over to let her into Natsuo's walk in closet just like they used to do as children when they were discussing the events of the world.
"So you're both breaking the big two?"
Natsuo sighs and nods sadly but Touya chuckles, clapping his sister on the shoulder just as he did his brother. That's one thing the siblings have always appreciated about one another - everyone is equal. Equal to give shit to, equal to protect, even Shouto who they all go to pains to take care of even more than the older siblings do one another.
"Please don't tell dad," Natsuo isn't above begging if it means he gets to keep you. He looks up at his sister through his lashes and she smiles back at him. "Of course, Natsu. We're all breaking some rule at the end of the day."
Both of her brothers raise their eyebrows and she shrugs, zipping her lips dramatically while the youngest of the four peeks around the corner with a deadpan glance.
"What are you guys doing in here?"
They look at his mismatched eyes and bunch together, making enough room for the fourth of them to squeeze inside.
"Natsuo's dating a human."
Fuyumi and Natsuo open their mouth to gasp and Shouto shakes his head. How his elder siblings haven't noticed at this point is beyond him, given Natsuo narrowly stumbles in the door as the sun rises every single morning, but the youngest has always been the most astute of the bunch.
"Yeah, obviously. He reeks of her every time he comes home."
Despite the terror of being caught, Natsuo belly laughs. There's nobody else he could be shoved in a closet with, admitting to lying to their parents and breaking the codes of honor the entire family have taken seriously as long as they've existed.
They all have secrets, Fuyumi was right. He is relieved and he feels full of love, group hugging his siblings and squeezing them as tightly as he can until all three start to groan and slap at his biceps.
"Okay well now that the cat is out of the bag can you guys leave me alone? I'm already running late."
Fuyumi and Shouto are the easy sells, wishing him luck and leaving to go gossip across the house but Touya sticks around, looking at his little brother that has become a full grown man with his own life and career and apparently, love.
He's proud but he'll never say it out loud instead choosing to further antagonize.
"Does she know?"
Natsuo shakes his head and Touya hisses through his teeth, clapping his brother on the shoulder and walking out of the closet.
"Good luck with that."
He knows that he'll need it.
Tumblr media
"Do you want to come inside?"
This is the first time you've offered the option to Natsuo, his discomfort with any physical affection keeping you from broaching the subject this far, but the time feels right. The two of you spent the evening at an outdoor art show, admiring pottery and painting with your hands joined.
You are undeniably attracted to this man and you hope that you aren't misreading his affection toward you as more than simple friendliness, your evenings spent with him some of the best you've had since you can remember. Your hands remain linked, fingers twined and dangling in the small space between your bodies where you both lean against the frame of your front door.
Natsuo smiles down at you and it feels like the world disappears, walls and floors and atmosphere melting into something that doesn't matter when he looks at you. You've known it for awhile but there's no denying it - you're in love with him and asking him to spend the night, or morning rather, feels like the most logical next step.
His hesitation makes you doubt yourself, though.
"You don't have to, Natsuo. I know you're busy an-" he cuts you off by grasping your cheek with his free hand, thumb running along the soft skin beneath it. He has never been this close to you before, his teeth aching despite his self restraint, and he knows that tonight he must decide to be honest or leave you behind.
The thought of leaving you behind breaks his heart. You are the sun that he has so badly craved his entire life and there's no way he can continue without you, even if it means telling the truth and putting you both in the way of trouble in the process.
"I want to."
Smiling, you reach for the door and unlock it, keying in the code that you know he watches. You hope he has it memorized, if not you'll remind him again later. The lock unlatches, a mechanical whirring in the door, and as soon as the door opens he has you pulled against his body.
Pressed against the door, he finally kisses you. It's hungry, something raw and fiery beneath his exterior coming to the surface and you know that you'd let him have every bit of you right here on the floor if he wanted it. The scent of his cologne and the feel of his hands across your sweater clad body make you moan into his mouth and you yelp when something pokes your lip, assuming he nipped you a little harder than intended.
Mortified, Natsuo backs away from you with wide eyes and you see his tooth poking out of his top lip. The tip of it is dotted with blood from your lip and he backs away from you unable to hide his horror.
"I'm so sorry, I..." he mumbles a string of apologies and you put your hands on his chest to stop him, close enough to him that his body reacts naturally and his second fang descends through his jaw and peeks out of his top lip to join the first.
Your wide eyes gaze at him but hold no fear and he marvels at you. You are so trusting, so brave, so kind despite now knowing he's a...
"Vampire."
It takes all of you to contain the smile on your face from becoming too big when the word leaves your lips. You had an inkling something was different about him but you never assumed it would be this.
Dr. Natsuo Todoroki, your walking buddy, your companion, is a vampire.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
Using the grip you have on his chest, you pull him down until he's face level with you. The same smile dances across your face and you waste no time kissing him for real this time, paying no mind to the way he whimpers when his tongue laves over the small puncture wounds his teeth have left on your bottom lip. You let him lick over the spots until he gets his fill, head swimming and heart full.
"Yeah, me too, because I would have done all of this months ago."
Natsuo laughs, kissing you again. His brows knit together when he laps at another pinprick of blood on your lips, another sweet groan leaving him.
You taste as good as you smell and his instincts tell him that you've just given him a tiny taste of all you're willing to offer.
120 notes · View notes
thatlonelymushroom · 4 months
Text
☼ Cabin 7 ~ Apollo Headcanons ☼
Tumblr media
Credit to Viktoria Ridzel, she drew the image above :)
Word Count: 551
A/N: Hello- , so I found that writing headcanons is wayyyy easier then oneshots (For some reason idk) so I'll probably be writing more Cabin headcanons, and stuff. So yeah, also lmk if you would like a part 2 to this, because I have so much more ideas for apollo stuff. Anyway enjoy!
Every friday they hold karaoke nights
You cannot fight me on this.
Surprisingly Will always goes up to sing (Mainly because of his nagging siblings)
No matter if you’re a good singer, a meh singer, or a OMG MY EARS ARE DYING singer nobody will judge - that’s just their nature
Since Apollo is god of the sun, all Apollo kids wake up at the crack of dawn
Yes. The moment you can see even the slightest sliver of the sun- all his kids stir and wake up
(Probably not by choice- It just kind of happens.)
On that note, they all probably start to become really exhausted when the sun goes down…
Like sure they can TOTALLY stay up longer, it’s just more draining for them, and they have less energy
(Although there are some rare cases where if the Apollo kids stay near Hecate kids, or Hades kids etc. like gods/goddesses of night- then they’ll be able to stay awake longer.)
Also no matter what time it is, almost always- whenever you go to the archery range, you’ll find an Apollo kid getting all bullseyes.
Most Apollo kids are open to giving out free music lessons
In fact sometimes on the weekends they have this thing called “Note swap” Where they all take their instruments and swap them, teaching everybody a new instrument
(And when it  comes to music- Apollo kids are fast learners.)
On rare occasions, there is an Apollo kid who gets the gift of the plague, however, usually it’s not very strong- and they can only give people minor illnesses
Adding onto that, Apollo kids almost NEVER get sick. Although- when they do…. Be prepared..
Immediately the ENTIRE cabin gets sick, and oh gosh- it’s. The. Worst.
Tissues littering the cabin floor
Everybody with noses as red as rudolphs - irritated from blowing their nose so often
Most times the sickness gets so bad, that the cabin can barely speak- their throats are too incredibly sore to do so.
Usually, when this happens other campers have to volunteer to help out in the infirmary- because Will and the other healers are just too sick.
(When this type of sickness happens it affects everybody except apollo kids with the plague gift)
They just have a constant cold- but it never gets worse than sniffles
Also by some miracle, the sickness always seems to stay contained and inside the Apollo cabin, never infecting a different camper.
The cabin walls are almost always covered in posters with classics, Beatles, Queen, etc.
Although, a cabin favorite is most definitely Taylor Swift.
There is not a time where music is not playing in the cabin, even if it’s just instrumental- they always have something playing.
When they welcome new campers, they always have a kind of initiation to find what they’re best at
Will would show them around the infirmary
Austin would give them some instruments to try-
Kayla would show them archery
Etc. etc.
They would probably have a mini shrine to all the campers that passed away, leaving little offerings of candy and such
(When I say all the campers, I mean apollo campers)’
They would have photos of Micheal, and Lee
Will would probably talk to them once in a while :(
And overall it would just be really sweet
138 notes · View notes
evilwickedme · 7 months
Text
The last episode of every season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with the exception of season 6, was also designed to be the series finale, because they never knew if they were going to get renewed. The season 5 finale is triply so; not only did they not know if they'd get renewed, they actually got cancelled by the network and got picked up by a different one.
But also season 5 was just straight up intended to be the series finale; they were putting in hints and foreshadowing as far back as season 3, especially in the various prophetic dreams throughout s3-5.
In Graduation Day Part 2, the season 3 finale, the dream that Buffy has that leads her to defeat the Big Bad also has Faith saying, "Little Miss Muffet counting down from seven three oh". 730 days being two years, and therefore the amount of time that passes between the season 3 finale and the season 5 finale. Then, in Restless, the season 4 finale, which is essentially one long dream sequence, Tara says to Buffy, referring to a clock that says 7:30, "oh that's all wrong", referring to the fact that since it's been a year, we're now down to 365 days.
In s4e15, This Year's Girl, Faith and Buffy share yet another prophetic dream, in which Faith alludes to "lil sis coming"; I'm assuming the people who were watching at the time thought it referred to Faith as being a metaphorical little sister, but of course we now know it was referring to Dawn. Tara, in Restless, also refers to her: "Be back before Dawn," she says. Dawn Summers gets introduced in the next episode, the season 5 premiere.
Plus, when you actually start The Gift, the season 5 finale, it actually opens with a previously on that summarizes the entire show so far; season 7 doesn't do that with the actual series finale.
All this to say, they put in a lot of effort here, and they did a good job. It just sucks that this would have been a terrible series finale.
Not to say that this is not a great episode; I think that it's pretty universally agreed that this is one of the best episodes of the show, and Buffy is one of the best shows ever made. But thematically? This was a terrible place for Buffy's story to have ended.
Buffy's depression is alluded to as early on as the season 2 premiere When She Was Bad, where she's clearly having some kind of episode, but it's brought up again and again throughout the seasons. There's a clear visual similarity between the season three premiere Anne and s6e3 After Life that really makes it clear that her depression started way before season 6, The Depression Season:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Both in Anne and in After Life, Buffy is positioned incredibly similarly, completely isolated from the works around her - in Anne because she's run off to LA and is physically far away from her friends and family, and in After Life because she came back from heaven, but no one knows that - with the sole light source positioned so we cannot properly see her facial features. This is a visual representation of her depression. In Anne the room is still brightly lit by the sun, signifying that there is still hope, and of course, although she doesn't know it yet, by the end of the episode she'll be ready to return home. In After Life, however, the only light source is extremely weak moonlight, because this is only the beginning of Buffy's journey towards healing.
That said, Buffy's depression (and associated feelings of helplessness) is brought up in season 5, especially as we get closer to the finale, such as the entire events of The Weight of the World, the penultimate episode.
All this to say, Buffy canonically has depression, and although it isn't explored in depth until season 6, it is absolutely present and informs her character and choices. And the fact that if the show had ended with The Gift, the show would have ended with a suicide? It's just horrific to me.
(Yeah, I know it's positioned as a sacrifice rather than a suicide, but killing Dawn would've also been a sacrifice; in the established context of her depression, it is a suicide.)
This ending specifically negates the main throughline of the show of being the Slayer being a metaphor for becoming an adult, with the show closing on giving up, essentially not growing up. Dying, by definition, leaves you frozen in time. Vampires can't change, because they are dead bodies. Buffy, in her grave, cannot change, because she is a dead body.
If we take this as the intended ending, if we take this as the ultimate preferred ending as I've seen a lot of people in the fandom do, then the show ends with Buffy letting Sunnydale consume her, leaving her unable to actually grow. It's just not satisfying to me and I don't think it's a good way to close the show.
So I'm really glad we got season 6 and season 7, to work through her depression, get some quality spuffy stuff, and for Buffy to literally destroy Sunnydale instead of the other way around. It's just a much better way to close the story in my opinion.
57 notes · View notes
bloodonmyhands-1221 · 11 months
Note
"how do i know if i have a crush on someone?" "well, you can't stop thinking about them, you feel strange when they're around, and then you want to- why are you looking at me like that."
👀 for logan?
Here you go beautiful!!! <3 I went with Logan being the one, that's like... "Oh shit... I think I like them... BUT HOW?!?!" Because I love a shy and clueless Logan <3
Logan Walker X F!Reader
Callsign: T.J.
How Do You Know?
----
Logan Walker is many things…
But he is fucking clueless when it comes to feelings… When it comes to you, and everything that reminds him of you.
He knows, you’re something special…
Whenever he is around you, he can’t think straight…
Whenever you smile, it reminds him of the sun… God, you were so pretty…
He is a stuttering mess, whenever you speak to him, bringing out that shyness only few get to see…
You were his teammate, radiant and steadfast… Quick witted, and cunning… Too smart for your own good, always having a comeback for everything.
Did Keegan just sass you?
Not anymore… You put the Sergeant in his place and made him question, what the hell just happened.
Did Hesh just give you lip?
Well now, you’ve touched a sore subject and made Hesh rethink his life choices.
Merrick knows better – he’s been around enough women in his lifetime to know when to agree and when to stay away.
But for Logan… He hasn’t caught on yet.
He wants to be around you every second he can… But he also wants to study you from afar….
Wait, did that sound creepy?
Logan Walker doesn’t know what to do… But he does know, it’s starting to drive him mad.
-
“Hey, Hesh,” he spots his brother heading back to his room – it’s not like he doesn’t trust his brother’s instinct, and advice… It’s just…
“Hey Lo, what’s up?” Hesh gives his brother a questioning look.
Logan takes a second to collect his thoughts, trying to figure out how best to go about this, without sounding like a complete idiot.
“I’ve got a question for you… Need your advice.”
“Sure man, what’s up? I was just about to get some lunch… Let’s go talk.”
Talking with Hesh, isn’t all that bad… But this feels private to Logan, something sacred…
“So, what’s going on?” Hesh sits at the far end of the Mess Hall, away from prying ears.
“How do you know if you like someone? I mean, how do I know if I like someone?”
The words spill out like vomit, and he is caught off guard by how rushed and scared he suddenly sounds.
Hesh isn’t an idiot, he knows his brother better than anyone else… Logan thinks he is being sly and sneaky when it comes to you… But in most cases, Logan might as well have screamed it out for the whole world to hear.
Hesh takes a bite of his sandwich, a small smirk gracing his lips, “We wouldn’t be talking about a certain Medic, now would we?”
“Would you stop,” Logan bites back, “I’m being serious. I can’t get her off my mind, I want to be around her for as long as she’ll have me… She’s beautiful… Smart, and so fucking funny.”
Hesh wants to tease him so bad, it was too good of a moment to pass up, “Gross…”
But Logan looks nearly helpless and his eyes are pleading for someone to help him make sense of all of this.
So Hesh, being the good brother that he was, took pity on him.
-
He sighs heavily, pushing his lunch away to get serious, “Well first things first… You got the first part down packed… You can’t stop thinking about them, you’re almost like a lost puppy… You feel all fuzzy when they are around, and strange… Like you can’t be without them… What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Logan knows something is wrong, when he hears his brother… He feels his heart racing, can feel the caress of sweat as it gathers in his clammy palms.
Logan liked you… Maybe even more than liked…
“It’s just now dawning on you, that you like her? Bro, we can see it from a mile… Oh hi, T.J. what brings you around this neck of the woods?”
Logan can feel the color draining of his face, as his eyes grow two times bigger.
The realization hits him like a ton of bricks… He feels the presence on his back, like warmth from the sun.
Logan gives his brother a look, not missing the way Hesh is trying to keep it together.
‘I’m gonna kill you.’
Then suddenly you are surrounding him, as he feels your breath tickling his neck and ear.
“And in case, you were wondering… I like you too Logan Walker.”
----
Taglist:
@ghost-with-a-teacup
@reiya-djarin
@macravishedbymactavish
@fante-di-denari
@southernbluebellereader
@spencers-abit-weebish
@makeshift-prime
@embarrassedauthornerd
@blueoorchid
@copiasratscheese
@jutty-b
@jp027
@kaitebugg03
@gothgirl6-6-6
@mxtokko
@fruitymoonbeams-blog
@shescabob
@luvfromkat
@random0lover
@meimhem
@ltotheucyy
@itsasecrets-things
@1112lw
110 notes · View notes
echo-goes-mmm · 2 months
Text
Moonflower #7
Masterpost
Previous
Next
Warnings: mentions of violence
He woke up even earlier than normal; the sun not even peeking over the mountains yet. 
Kit took his time getting ready; he needed to calm himself before court. He drew a warm bath and spent several minutes just soaking in the heat.
He scrubbed his skin until it was soft and clean, and he carefully washed his brittle hair. 
After everything, seeing his skin blank was unnerving. No one could tell what had happened, which was nice, but it was also like nothing had happened at all. It seemed strange to be so unblemished.
Kit pulled out a pair of charcoal black trousers and a soft blue shirt. He liked the cotton fabric, and the long sleeves weren’t too snug. The shirt had a lovely texture, and the pants weren’t stiff at all. Good. He tugged on some gray socks.
Mira had promised modesty, and had certainly delivered.
He slipped out of his room, and Sir Maxus nodded at him when he knocked on Mistress’s door.
“Come in,” she called.
Mistress was in her closet, rifling through her dresses.
“Oh,” she said, glancing at him but not really looking up, “it’s you.” 
He didn’t say anything. She seemed a tiny bit cross, and he didn’t want to make it worse.
“What time is it?”
“Seven and two am.”
She sighed. “Do you always get up so early?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
She mumbled something that even he couldn’t hear, and Kit got the feeling she was not a morning person.
She pulled out a deep blue dress, one that reminded him of the dark icy lake near the fae prince’s territory.
“Here, hold this.” He gingerly took the hanger from her as she picked through her shoes.
She held up two pairs of shoes, both black. “High heels or flats?” Was it a test?
The slanted shoes- ‘high heels’- seemed uncomfortable. “Flats,” he suggested. Iris seemed pleased by the choice. 
She moved on to a jewelry case, looking at earrings.
“What time do you get up, anyway?”
“Dawn. I’m not sure the time.” Iris rolled her eyes, but in a strange, unannoyed way.
“Of course. I don’t know what I expected.”
Kit shifted his weight. “Sometimes I sleep in when it’s winter,” he admitted.
“Oh good. I might find it insufferable if you weren’t lazy at some point.”
Kit didn’t have the time to parse what that meant before there was a knock on Iris’s door.
“Get the door, would you?” He hung up the dress on a hook on her bedroom door.
It was Katie, and she was much more cheerful than Iris. She said hello, dropped off the food, and left as quickly as she’d come.
“Is that breakfast?” called Mistress from the other room.
“Yes.”
“Great. Could you grab me some coffee? With cream and sugar please.”
Kit didn’t know what coffee was, but he knew Mistress Iris put cream and sugar into that bitter drink she liked.
He brought a mug of it to her bedroom.
“Thanks,” she said, chugging it down. She had already changed into her dress and earrings. They were sapphires, dangling and framed in silver.
They ate breakfast together, and Iris brushed her hair while sipping on another cup of coffee. She offered him some, but he declined.
He twitched towards the little pitcher of cream, but restrained himself from drinking it. He didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. Who knew what was considered normal to eat and drink? Kit put the cream out of his mind.
Iris didn’t put up her hair, instead leaving it long and flowing like a dark waterfall down her back. It was wavy and shiny, a soft healthy gloss.
He pushed down the simmering jealousy in his throat. He couldn’t do anything about it anyway. He could only wait for the sickness to leave him, and hopefully his hair would turn back to its soft dark green.
“Well, duty calls I suppose,” she sighed, standing and smoothing out her dress. “Ready?”
Kit couldn’t answer her verbally, as he was pretty sure he wasn’t ever going to be ready, so he nodded instead. He followed her out the door.
Sir Maxus walked alongside them, on Mistress’s right.
“Just keep quiet,” Mistress told him. “Let me do the talking.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Kit had absolutely no intention of saying anything in the first place.
The hallway to the throne room was lined with portraits of kings and queens past, framed in gleaming gold. The left wall had large windows, and they cast high beams of light onto the walls.
There was something both intimidating and beautiful about this section of the castle, both the same and yet totally different from the heart of the forest where the gentry began to outnumber the wild folk.
They entered the throne room from a side entrance, a curtain concealing the exact spot like the wings of a stage. 
There was chatter from the nobles, but they fell to silence as Iris entered. Faint whispers brushed through the room when he followed behind, Sir Maxus taking up the rear.
Iris sat on the throne, sitting high and regal, and she crossed her legs at the ankle. A man sat just to the side the platform, a long scroll and several pens and inkwells on his desk. A scribe, maybe?
There was a pillowed spot directly next to the throne, and he instinctively knelt on it. 
His heart pounded at the eyes on him. He could feel them as well as any weight, like a heavy cloak a bit too tight in the chest. Kit kept his gaze on the swirls of the marble of the platform. He didn’t want to look up and see them staring.
Iris’s hand drifted to brush against his head, and he flinched. But her palm ran over his hair in a soothing motion. 
You’re doing fine, said the gesture. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, but she was focused out into the room. Of course. He was meant to be ignored, just like she said.
“Her Majesty, Queen Iris, first of her name, has opened the court to comment. Those who wish to bring forth concerns may now step forward,” called an announcer from just below the platform.
He was loud, his voice echoing around the room, and Kit’s ears twitched. A wave of whispers swept through the crowd. 
Ugh. If the mortals commented on every little movement, he’d never get through five years without tearing his hair out.
The first few discussions were uneventful; about tax complaints or harvest estimates.
Kit was mostly interested in how different Iris was to the faerie prince. She was bold and unconcerned with so much attention; the entire structure of the court made to center her.
He’d met the faerie prince exactly once, and seen him from afar. He ruled quietly and rarely made appearances. He was almost shy about using his authority, unlike Iris who embraced it.
Not to say the prince wasn’t intimidating. He could halt conflict with a glare and break up a bloody fight with one well-placed snarl. Kit had even been there when he graphically executed an ogre for insulting his husband.
But everyone knew he hated his title, and that he only tolerated the other gentry.
Overall, he mostly left his subjects alone and preferred not to interfere.
Kit appreciated these things about his liege. 
He did not appreciate how complicated human politics seemed to be.
There were exactly three laws of the fae realm. Here, it was not even two hours into court, and an advisor had cited several human laws that Kit couldn’t even comprehend.
What even were taxes? Some sort of tribute?
___________________
Everyone broke for lunch at noon.
Iris was all grace and composure until the moment they stepped back out into the hall. 
“I swear, if one more lord complains about my financial policy, I'm going to throw something,” she muttered. 
Kit hummed in sympathy. Maybe she was more like the prince than he thought. She didn’t seem to like nobles either.
Lunch was over with quickly, and it was back to the throne room. 
“Your grace, my name is June Harbor,” curtsied a woman, and suddenly Kit felt on edge. She didn’t look like the other nobles. “If I may, I have a concern on behalf of my brother, James Harbor.”
Iris tensed, her fingers flexing on the armrest of her chair.
“Go on.”
“You see, he was arrested the other day, on your command.” A murmur swept through the room, and Kit held his breath. Mistress Iris had said his kidnapper had been arrested. Was this woman his sister?
“I recall,” said Iris, coldly.
“I wonder, your grace, what his crime was. My family has not been told.”
“Treason, of course.”
June bristled, and the whispers of the crowd grew. Iris held up a hand, and the room fell to silence.
“Treason, your majesty? On what grounds?”
Despite the woman’s tone, there was clear disrespect in her words. The prince would have snapped a response, but Iris remained calm.
“By kidnapping a citizen of a foreign country, James Harbor has endangered the realm.” Iris’s voice was loud and clear, her eyes sweeping over the room. “If we are unlucky, the fae may consider war.”
The court murmured. Kit knew that was unlikely, but he held his tongue.
Iris focused on June. “I will not hesitate to turn your brother over to the fae if they demand it. Until that day comes, he will remain in prison. I cannot allow such reckless acts against our neighbors.”
June gaped at her. “There hasn’t been a trial!” she sputtered.
Iris raised a brow. “He admitted to the kidnapping in front of the court, and I have evidence sitting right next to me. If you demand a trial, I would also need to charge him with the crime of torture and have him hanged. Would you prefer that?”
“I- torture? James would never!”
Iris sat back in her chair, uncrossing and then crossing her legs again.
“Again, the evidence is right here,” Iris gestured to him, and Kit winced. “James tortured him with iron in front of the whole court, not to mention what Kit has told me. Or do you consider a fae somehow a liar, and the burning incident a mass hallucination?”
June had nothing to say, and stiffly curtsied before flouncing off. 
“I will hear no more of this,” said Iris to the room, dismissive. “If no one has anything of value to say today, we might as well end here.”
No one stepped forward.
___________________
“Sorry about that,” said Iris. They were alone in her study; Iris poring over a stack of papers. “I didn’t think I’d be challenged on the arrest.”
Kit paused, trying to figure out his phrasing. “It’s not your fault.” He was sitting on the floor, next to her chair.
“Still,” she said. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
“I don’t see how else you could have done it.”
Iris glanced down at him. “Not even the bit where I lied? You haven’t told me anything about what he did to you.”
Kit looked away. “I told you I have iron poisoning. That counts. You didn’t lie. You just… implied more information.”
Iris sat back in her chair.
“Hm. That’s pretty tricksy of you.” She said it with a lilt to her voice, teasing.
Kit relaxed, leaning against the legs of the desk. He liked this side of her. “Technically, you were the one being tricksy.” 
Iris snorted.
They fell into silence, the only sound the scratch of a pen on paper and the clink of the pen dipping into the inkwell.
“You don’t have to tell me details, by the way,” continued Iris. “I won’t ask that from you.”
“Thank you.”
After a few minutes of writing, she spoke again.
“I have a work dinner tonight. Family matters.”
Kit wrinkled his nose. “When do you relax?” 
She laughed, signing a paper with a rough scrawl. “I don’t. Want to come with?”
“I will if you ask me to,” he evaded. 
“You’re being tricksy again.”
“Mm.”
Iris flipped through the last few pages of paperwork. “I’d like it if you came. Your presence will scare my relatives, if nothing else.”
Kit tilted his head. She didn’t seem to like her family.
“Do they bother you?”
“They want me to get married.” She said it with such derision, it almost startled him.
“Is that bad?”
“It’s… complicated. Especially so soon. They won't shut up about it.” She slumped in her chair, twirling the pen in her fingers.
“Oh.”
He thought it over. “I’ll go with you. Maybe it will help.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him. “At least then there will be someone I can tolerate.”
taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle
25 notes · View notes
laylawatermelon · 2 months
Text
The K-Drama Of It All
Hello! My hyper fixation has (very unhealthily) latched onto this show so I'm gonna be analyzing.
First of all, I am a veteran in these spaces.
Very shy in real life I am an avid observer in all my fandoms but TRUST I know what's up at all times because of it.
This first analysis will be of the phenomenon of how they playing in my face with the classic K-Drama tropes and cinematic choices.
Let us begin.
Now we all agree that The Bear is a cinematic masterpiece right? Right.
I have been consuming media across all mediums since I was a kid.
I quite literally spent most of my life watching behind the scenes, in front of the scenes, and in between the scenes.
I'm also an aspiring filmmaker and screenwriter. As such I analyze stuff I like more.
I try to understand why they are the way they are.
Now that we got all the fluff out of the way let's get down to the nitty gritty.
*stands on soapbox*
Page 1 of 10000 ehem
In this this essay I will -!
Tumblr media
Fr tho. Let's look at this from a K-Drama perspective.
I've spent about 10-12/13 years watching them. And luckily got into it during the golden era.
I literally watched She Was Pretty air (among others). Ex, Strong Woman, Descendants of the Sun (never watched; controversy+ bad attention span), School 2013.
So you know I'm (somewhat) of an og.
I'm those shows it's very formulaic.
This can extend to other Asian dramas but I'm going to try to stick to K-Dramas.
For example, the 10 ep rule. Must have a kiss or kiss in that episode. (Before is fine)
Now they're getting a little willy nilly and getting down in the first EP but I can argue they was down bad back then as well. Just more angsty longing looks.
(which tbf Sydcarm does all the time but it's 99% Carm though)
Tumblr media
In KDramas there's something common in the cinematography that I'd call the halo of light. Almost all the time there are some form of beauty shots with them beautifully lit where they're together, the way they look at each other etc.
Which ironically they do with these two a lot on the show.
I know the show is gorgeous but you can't just explain away some of the choices.
I have watched and read a lot of discussions so this will be influenced by a lot of people. I will mention when I got the help from (if i can find it).
Now I just want to say I think this.
These following trope have been here since the dawn of K-Drama time.
Enjoy my infodump.
Firstly let's discuss this here:
1. The Meet Cute/Halo Effect
Tumblr media
We've all been screaming to the void about the classic meet cute that happens with Carmy's life and him being constantly bombarded with noise and chaos.
Stylistically this wouldn't be a typical formula for K-Dramas as it leans more into Kmovie style (which valid The Bear was originally a movie) I think it's as textbook as it comes.
Now the original script (which I have read) had a story of different tone. Very Chicago and chaotic but still...
In this iteration of the script idk what the actors were on but JAW looked at the script and chemistry test and was like hmm yes.
Tumblr media
A dramatic romcom. I see.
For her she's an ambitious woman who has (maybe a tiny crush) admiration for him cause like he's literally who she wants to be.
Young, talented and successful. He's made a name in their industry so of course she wants to work under him.
But he he's playing the male lead in an early K-Drama with the classic *she enters* and it's like the second coming out Christ being lit from behind her.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The classic 'I can't believe I never noticed how beautiful she is' in all dramas (and romcoms honestly).
You can also compare it to the corny slightly funny moments in slow motion when they miss each other/do the angsty look.
Like this.
Tumblr media
Good old kdrama tropes.
What's interesting is that in their scene they do the opposite of what a K-Drama would usually do. They cut the music and let it become calm.
You get to breathe and relax and so does he. He feels at peace.
In K-Dramas, osts are a kind of a life line so they would most likely blare it when he has that realization.
And then at every other romantic moment after.
Another way that it could be is by using very like calm music (still the ost but still).
They do use this with having mostly romantic music in their scenes but it's usually quiet and a bit hard to hear or understand (unless you're analyzing like many of the wonderful people on this app).
Now you can argue her warm lighting in each scene from the finale and introduction represents his hope/life/good change being given back to him in the form of her (but if that's not the most romantic thing I ever heard).
Now for the flashback in the panic attack scene you could argue the blue tone he sees her in, as it usually represents some kind of sadness/distance/professionalism in this show, it can also represent his piercing blue eyes remembering her in the only shade they know how.
Good God that color grading is nuts. His eyes *ARE* the color Blue.
Tumblr media
Now I want to talk a bit more about shot composition, color grading and color choices.
In a few interviews I've seen and read the editors, directors and others were quite serious about the shots and music they used were very much on purpose.
I mean come on.
Also Announcement from a novel/screenwriter:
EHEM
WE DON'T EVER INCLUDE NOTHING THAT CAN BE MISINTERPRETED IN SCRIPTS!
AND THE DIRECTOR WOULD DEFINITELY CUT IT IF IT WASN'T HOW HE ENVISIONED IT!
(/hj)
The most telling scenes is the beginning of omlette and the end of the episode before it.
The director had chose to show her tattoo that represents loss in a deep blue lighting which was actually in a similar lighting that Carmy and Claire were bathed in afterwards.
The quora search says it means pain, heartbreak, and emotional turmoil.
It also lines up with the rest of the shots with him preparing dinner with Claire and her being alone.
I believe this kind of represents the emotional cheating (?) going on between them as he practically abandoned her (and their child, The Bear).
(which is a wild choice for platonic coworkers)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
As I've said before blue lighting is usually representative of sadness, coldness etc.
In the scene personally even without connecting it to shipping or everything the message came clear to me.
Suffocation.
He was quite literally being suffocated as in the last scene her body was on his as he stared in the distance blankly.
Honestly that shot was kind of heartbreaking because it feels like coercion in a warped way.
He feels like he should be happy, he should participate in these acts, he should be doing well.
He's fulfilling his family's wish.
So why isn't he happy?
That's my writer kicking in but that's what I got from it.
🥲 (gimme a sec i gotta cry)
But the same blue tone was used in his panic attack as the camera zoomed in.
Tumblr media
Now the ironic part was that they used warm lighting for the scenes with Claire, but it's not that unusual.
Tumblr media
Warm lighting has always been used to also represent a time period in the past in addition to good/warm times.
What's ironic is what's literally colored in what should represent good times isn't working.
He's remembering his family in those same tones. The past isn't helping.
But the future does.
Enter Sydney in blue.
Tumblr media
Now blue usually represents sadness (or calm) but it's also used in futuristic scenes.
*They benefit from the cold clinical look i guess🤷🏾‍♀️*
Then he becomes calm.
I can also say that their kitchen scenes in early season 2 are blue coded but it has a calm feeling not a distant feeling. It ironically feel warm and calming despite the cool tone.
This appears in a couple other scenes in the show when he's showing her the work done in the early season.
Tumblr media
But color wise it's usually warm tones with them as the color kind of transitions in that scene. It's half half.
His view is warm because he thinks she's good with what he did and hers is cold because he ditched her so yeah.
Now shot wise let's discuss because it's a bit obvious.
The staff head mentioned loving close ups to show the characters emotion but also to convey a sense of what's not being said.
An example of his uncertainty with Claire is the car scene. In most of his shots it's extremely close to her and gives off an awkward vibe.
Tumblr media
But when you go to her perspective, she's more open and his shots show background and more of his character, also reflecting their relationship with each other,
Tumblr media
This persists with the kitchen scene as well.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When I rewatch it it has that same quality. It's a bit more pulled out (obviously as they literally spent the night together so anyone would feel closer) but there's still an awkward/dreamlike feel like when its on her like she's not quite based in reality.
Or in Carmy's self sabotaging view, too good to be true.
In comparison to Sydney, the shots with her are almost always wide and open.
We see it with them as early in season one with the outside scene where he's staring her down and gets her to open up.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You can argue that almost all of their shots are as equals, or in the same frame with an openness that have/represents when they're communicating with each other. (I'm def writing about their communication)
Sydney's character is ironically what a male lead would be like and Carmy would be more of the female archetype.
Which I really appreciate now that I think about it.
The male lead is usually very successful/good at what they do, hesitant to share but when they do you feel it and know it's sincere. They're usually more bumbly with expressing when they're emotional but when they do its like a huge release. And when they love it's very obvious and excessive at times.
In comparison, Carmy is very expressive, sensitive and aware. He's devoted (Claire sorry but you don't quite count) to things he's passionate about, willing to communicate and has traits of sensitivity.
His eyes and body tells what he's feeling almost immediately. (Also JAW is just an incredible actor)
In Kdrama land their roles would be switched. Hell I can argue some American dramas as well.
Back on topic though.
The Halo Effect is there. Like all the time.
To my next point-
2. The She Looks Away, I Look At Her
Now you may argue this is very Disney Rapunzel, all that coded.
Tumblr media
You will also be correct.
I am a Disney (more Nick honestly) kid.
This too applies to the K-Drama world nay I would say it originated there (it did not).
Do you know how many shows I can name where the male lead is just hopelessly in awe as he stared at the female lead because she just insulted him and he wants to tell her he loves her in every way.
Ring ring.
I heard The Bear calling. Yeah imma need you to clock out on this gaslighting.
time to fangirl
Look at the gif sets!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
But honestly, it's a common way to show that the character cares and wants a person without outright saying it.
You understand the vibes almost instantly.
He likes her. He wants more.
She likes him. She wants more.
3. Matching Clothes
This one is a simple one but we all know how common it is in K-Dramas to have a matching something.
A good example of a recent show is Extraordinary Attorney Woo, and how they almost always matched even if he was in casual clothing and she was in office clothes.
You're supposed to get a telepathy feel from them. Like they're on the same wavelength.
In ships/shows they usually subconsciously brainwash you into details of a relationship by having them wear or have something that reminds you of them.
In wardrobe, clothing is meticulously planned to match characters financial situation and express their personality. The clothes tell the story.
And the story usually is we go together. Real bad.
Tumblr media
So yeah, sure in this scene/episode they were more in tune and tandem and as time went on they became more disjointed.
Granted they do work in a place with uniforms but I digress.
And lastly my third point part II-
Same But Different
If this were a kdrama there'd be like 0.00% chance that they WOULDN'T happen.
First they're the main leads so duh, and second the way that they parallel each other is insane.
There are many edits and examples of them directly mirroring each other in certain situations.
Scrubbing the floors when feeling lonely seemingly in the exact same spot, stressing in the freezer, saying stuff at the same time and their weird telepathy and answering each other's - sandwiches (that's what I was gonna say).
(sorry)
And if any of you say work wife I will rage cause let me catch my man laying under a table like that!!!
Sparta!
Tumblr media
But for real, yes there's intimacy and friendship and all that but I ain't everr look at my friends of either gender like that.
If did I probably had feelings and just kept em in. And did the Carmy puppy eyes (TM).
And yes we are aware Carmy is emotionally constipated like a coke bottle filled with mentos with a tight cap on and his lack of a social life coupled with his (many) different mental illnesses/difficulties.
So he probably doesn't even recognize or even want to recognize them as such and honestly as a 4 lifer
Tumblr media
I'm really sad but I don't think he'll confess in the next season.
I'm making a post about it but I'm also uncertain about it lasting more than three seasons as thematically and the way it was intended to be a movie I feel kind of uncertain.
It can extend to 4 but it was intended and the way it's narratively been flowing its exactly like a 3 act structure just spread out (like butter).
The next season is after the dark of night aka main character loses everything.
This season was fun and games - quite literally him having amusement and such. (Training Arc!!) It ended with his demise I'd say.
Now there's no where to go but up.
I'm not saying that it's impossible, but a 4th season would likely be more aimed toward getting a star or maintaining a star etc and family ties and such.
That'd be most likely when, if any, outwardly romantic contact should happen.
But they might surprise me.
Butt honestly in KDrama land there's no way the set up isn't romantic even if it was just a chef or professional focused show.
I'd say it'd be standard honestly for ones focused on career with a dash of romance.
Ex. Miss Hammurabi (best example)
The Good Doctor (Japanese Version)
There's probably more but I exclusively watch romance so 🤷🏾‍♀️.
In Conclusion,
Yes. They are end game.
I also wanna say how odd it is that this ship is attacked by fans of the show and non fans alike because I've literally grew up in the age of Rise of The Brave Tangled Guardians.
There's nothing more random than that time period.
They all dated each other!
Like my guy there's a Tony the Tiger x Grinch fic and don't even get me started on the Onceler selfcest as different flavors of himself (/j i love stuff like this)!
My point is it's not that unusual for the two leads to be shipped. Same gender or not.
I also have years of teenage brain rot developed from eating movies for breakfast so I know more than you! (/hj) I'm obviously right!
I will be discussing some more of this in length at a later date.
But I rest my case.
I will retreat into my cave until next time.
Tumblr media
33 notes · View notes
the-common-cowgirl · 14 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Chapter 1 - Intro
Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x OFC (Anikyra Targaryen)
Summary: The Peaceful King Viserys hears word of a Targaryen Princess that resides in the broken stronghold of Valyria; which has since become an immature kingdom after of the doom befell their land. Feeling the tension between his house and believing the long night may soon come, Viserys proposes a betrothal between the Valyrian Princess and his second son, Aemond Targaryen, believing his daughter’s prophetic dream that the child born of this union will become the prince that was promised.
Warnings (Ch. specific): Mentions of murder and usurpation.
Word Count: 1600
A/N: AHA! First chapter of this rework done! Probably going to work on finishing The Lost Children after this unless this gets a lot of attention lol.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Dawn awakened over the vast land that once was the great stronghold of Valyria; now an emerging kingdom over the broken land. The red, hot sun greeted her on the east side of her balcony and the beautiful, bright rays danced along the pale, blue water of the sea that faced her to the south. The large, shiny, black castle, mounted on the side of a great mount of stone and soot, stood tall above the city. She could see the hustle of morning coming and goings of the smallfolk below her who now resembled crawling ants. She often sat high above them on warm dawns with her tea, wondering if, although their lives were harsh and rough, were they simpler? Were those people below her free in the choices they made or were they too, confined to a blind duty born of their station? Did they have autonomy over their beating hearts or were they too a prisoner in their own personal hell? 
She doubted it.
 She heard a door open in the distance behind her and knew her handmaiden was coming to ready her; she also knew the handmaiden would be bearing news in which she dreaded. News of the scheming of the King of Valyria and another King of a distant land. News that would be comparable to news of her own execution; at least, in her mind. She did not want to hear it but she knew it would come regardless of her wishes. So, she decided to muster up her courage, to take her cup with now cool tea and walk into her bedchambers to hear if this was the news her handmaiden would be bearing.
“Princess, a messenger has sent word that the Targaryens of Westeros have embarked on their journey here.”
The ‘False Targaryens’ you mean. 
She all but slammed her cup on a table, nearly breaking the fragile porcelain, angered by the audacity of these Westerosi to come here and believe they have any sort of claim to what was once their homeland. A homeland they were exiled from when Aenar defiled the name “Targaryen '' by gambling his riches awash then trying to make good on his debts by stealing his elder brother’s, Aelys Targaryen, dragon eggs. Aelys should have not only exiled him, but executed him. No, her ancestor, Aelys, allowed his brother to be exiled comfortably with his family, a dragon and a handful of eggs. After the doom befell Valyria,  all the dragons fell from the sky, burning from the outside in, and Aelys’ only daughter requested help from the Westerosi. She asked for Aenar to bring his dragons and help what remained of the dragonlords escape the wrecked ruins of what was their home. Aenar responded with a simple “Nyke ivestragon Aelys hen bisa vejes” [I tell Aelys of this doom].  So, desperate for help and to save the remains of her people, she took it upon herself as the last highborn blood of the dragonlords alive, she turned to head to Asshai…and the Taragryens rose from the ashes…without the help of the last of their kin.
“Princess?” Her handmaiden approached lightly and slowly; holding out her hand as if she were approaching a deadly beast that needed to sniff her first to know she’s not a threat.
“Yes, Tiah. I understand the words you spoke. I know they are coming. I’d be more content today if you chose to not speak of it. Is that understood?” She snapped with an edge to her voice she wasn’t intending upon. Realizing she was staring harshly toward her handmaiden, she softened her stance slightly and turned away to hide the outburst; lip twitching with residual anger.
 Tiah, she thought, only a year older than I but such a meek and foolish girl still. 
Her handmaiden took two steps back briskly. She held her head down and hands clasped behind her back. “Yes, your Grace. I will not speak further about them.” Like an obedient dog. 
The Princess, overcome with emotion of anger she did not want to process nor dim, yet also, feeling the need to apologize to her poor handmaiden who was only doing her duty in informing Princess of the updates that the walls of the castle echoed, decided to walk out to the balcony again instead of apologizing for her misdirected anger. 
Tiah is not the enemy here. Keep your head clear. Breathe. 
 After some time, the Princess decided to walk back into her bedchambers yet again, call upon her handmaiden, and ask for help dressing in a gown. She did not care which gown her handmaiden decided to pick, as long as it was light in this warming daylight and allowed her to breathe unrestrictedly. The day was hot and will grow hotter as the sun crawls higher into the sky. Tiah picked a thin silken gown that would allow her to stroll the castle on this day of summer without becoming faint. Emerald green silk with gold filigree embroidered on the sleeves and either side of her torso. It showed off a hint of her collarbone and she decided that it was an acceptable amount of skin to show to court. The Princess’ left hand slid along her exposed collarbone. Slender fingers caressing her soft skin. 
I will not become some broodmare for a false dragon. She reminded herself in the mirror. I am the true daughter of Valyria. The last true dragon of Valyria and I will not let the false Targaryens of Westeros feast upon my body with their eyes. I will not bend, nor will I break. 
 She thought of her mother and how she did not bend, nor break to her father’s whims. The beautiful “Light of Valyria” remained gentle but firm in her hold of power. How her mother loved her father deeply but it was her who sat the throne. How her father helped raise Valyria from the ruins and strengthened their fledgling kingdom, his duty born purely out of the love he held for her mother. Despite all of their love, duty, and power, they only produced a single child. One daughter. 
Naturally, being the “First Child of Valyria,” she would be the heir uncontended; free to marry whomever she wanted, regardless of status or power. If only the natural order of things were so easy to abide by. 
The day they revolted against her father, the King Consort, she had viewed her mother’s face for the first time for who she truly was: a monster. Only a monster would sentence their true love to death. Only a monster would marry the man who usurped her father’s place and allow him to stand beside her throne as her new King Consort. Only a monster would lie with the man who murdered her only child’s father and only a monster would give birth to the most precious being in this world. 
Her younger sister. Only four years younger but still so very wise and kind. The only person in this world whom Anikyra has ever had to love and cherish. The only one who had ever claimed to love her and didn’t abandon her for the sweet taste of death. The young Princess Scilia was the very image of their mother. Pale hair, purple eyes, touched by the dawn and the light above. She always wore light colors as well; an homage to her mother. The elder sister sometimes even thought that Scilia was the Sun itself; especially when times were dark and cruel. Many referred to the young Princess as “The Light Princess.” 
Those very people had a similar name for the elder Princess. A name she did not care to refute as she knew the truth in it. When she was born, in the month of the Sapphire, her father was so happy his child would carry a reminder of him, regardless how small. The midwives called it “touch of dark.” Her mother called it “soul of the dragon.” But the people of the great castle called her “The Dark Princess,” for the small patch of black hair on the right side of her head, intertwined in her long, thick silver locks.
Those names, those whispers as she walked the slick, black floors of the castle, they gave life to the fire burning within her. Gave life to the rage she felt. Gave life and all that is unholy to the plan she had laid before herself once she heard the news, fourteen years ago, that her mother had been taken out of the castle a month after the birth of the Usurper King’s first child, the child that sealed his place on the throne, and executed in secret by the that very man. By the Usurper, her Father-by-law. She may be the heir to her parent’s murder’s kingdom, but this kingdom will bend the knee to her and her alone. She will take her realm back by blood. 
She found herself in front of the massive iron double doors to the throne room. As they opened, the large crowd of the court turned all eyes toward her and dared not look away for even a moment, as they always had done. The masses watched the predator in the eyes of the Dark Princess at all times for sign of a threat, waiting anxiously for the day she finally snaps and ends the man who murdered the very couple who gave her life.
She began ascending into the throne room, straight toward the Valyrian Throne where the now-King sat and a voice called out before her. 
”Princess Anikyra of the great House Targaryen. First child of Valyria, Heir to the Valyrian throne.”
Tumblr media
Likes, comments and reblogs are never necessary but always appreciated!
For updates when I post chapters, follow fics-by-the-common-cowgirl!
11 notes · View notes
doflamingosstrings · 3 months
Note
Do you ever thinking about the plot where Evil (young) titan Raiden x good titan Kung Lao are ex-lover while Raiden is just a total stalker creep and following Kung Lao in every, single, timeline after their break up?? Like the guy miss that boi's body soo much that he couldn't get enough of them and Kung Lao is tired of his shiet. [Lao break up with him first bcs he thinks Rai just using his body for his own good and that's true]
Then Kung Lao be like: 'I'm tired of your bullshiet' and just agreed to having hate seggs one last time with Rai before he kick the hell out of him.
Like trulyyy is my thought in two weeks now and I can not get enough of this 😭 I just wanted to share you this idea hope you don't mind bcs my English is not very good, also luv your work on AO3 so much!!
A wonderful Idea! You are a genius, I wrote it right away!
Raiden x Kung Lao. 18+, Smut, minor violence, ~7.5k words!
---
One would think creating an entirely new timeline would keep your enemies away, but a titan’s obsession goes further than anyone could reasonably expect.
Kung Lao had shot up suddenly, something had woken him from his sleep. He placed his hands flat on his bed as he raised his upper body. He was staring at darkness, but he knew something was coming. He blinked once, and there was nothing, then again, still nothing. Kung Lao glanced aside, and though he didn't see anything, there was this familiar feeling in his chest that he couldn't ignore.
Kung Lao grimaced, how many times would he have to go through this? He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.
Kung Lao tossed his blanket aside, ready to get up and defend himself, but before he could even move his body, a portal had opened up in front of his bed.
“Fuck,” Kung Lao said as he placed his feet on the ground and stood up properly.
Kung Lao could feel wind inside his room as the portal opened up wider. Kung Lao stuck his hands out, he had to control the portal himself, he had to close it before Raiden was able to get to him.
Kung Lao frowned as he closed his hands, his fingers folding down in an attempt to close the gaping hole in the middle of his room. Every time Raiden appeared, it got more and more difficult to push him back. It seemed like he was relentless, and his seemingly unending energy was something Kung Lao could match.
Even though he had agreed to forbid the crossing of timelines when he met with the other Titans, this agreement only helped if the other side accepted the terms, and Raiden did not.
Raiden had a particular interest in Kung Lao, one that was incessant and unhealthy. Before Kung Lao had inherited his titan powers and reset the timeline for the better, he had been in a rather fervent relationship with the man he had grown up with. At first, it was perfect, dream-like even, but as the timeline decayed, and people died, Raiden seemed to become more protective over his friend.
When it started, Kung Lao found it sweet. In a world where no one seemed safe, Raiden, the love of his life, the man he had grown up with, cared for him more than anything else. Kung Lao was always his top priority, and he almost coddled him with care.
Eventually, he stopped feeling like a fairy tale couple, and it became more like he was a damsel stuck in a tower, kept away from harm, and subsequently, everything else.
This relationship of theirs became unbearable to Kung Lao after a while, Kung Lao was Raiden’s sun, but Raiden was Kung Lao’s moon. In the end, at the dawn of time, before he made the choice to start anew, he broke away from Raiden, and Kung Lao thought that was that.
What he didn't know was that in an alternate timeline, Raiden was the one who inherited the power of time, and instead of starting over and moving on as Kung Lao did, he seethed over his loss, and he vowed to get what he lost back, by any means necessary.
Raiden’s desire for Kung Lao was primal, it was compulsive and it was a positive for no one involved. Week after week, he had to impede Raiden from hopping through timelines to reach him. At one point Kung Lao hoped Raiden would find another Kung Lao from another timeline to obsess over, but that's not what he wanted. Raiden desired him, and at first, he was flattered, but that feeling went away after the second time he managed to find him.
Raiden had fought through his former allies, faces that he no doubt had to have found familiar. He didn't care though, he ran through them, bloodied them up, and broke their bones with no mercy to spare. He’d crush the skulls of everyone dear to him if it meant he’d get his love back. Kung Lao was just grateful all of their lives were spared somehow, and whether that was intentional or not, Kung Lao wasn't going to give Raiden another chance to do any more devastation.
Kung Lao only wished for Raiden to move on, to stop this chase of theirs, but there was no stopping a predator from reaching its prey.
If Kung Lao could remember correctly, this must have been Raiden’s 86th attempt to force his way into this timeline, though he’s only succeeded 7 of those attempts. The first time was pure destruction. His friends were almost killed, his academy, which he watched grow from the first initiate, was almost turned to rubble. Raiden’s power was fierce, and if nothing else, it was destructive. What more could Lightning do but injure and destroy?
The next few times Kung Lao was able to anticipate his appearance, with the help of Geras of course. He, Geras, Liu Kang, Johnny Cage, and Kensh were able to fend him off with little trouble now that they knew what they were dealing with. The last few times Raiden managed to slip through he only ever got a hand through.
Kung Lao was hoping this would be one of those times, but with his increasing attempts, Kung Lao had been overworking himself, and he had started to falter. Those powers Raiden had were no joke, and if he weren't a titan, Kung Lao wasn't sure he’d be able to fend him off.
Kung Lao stood firmly in front of the portal as he slowly clenched his hands together as he focussed all of his energy possible on closing the portal quickly, but he was caught off guard and he hadn't been able to properly rest in days. Raiden had attempted to come through six separate times in the past week, so understandably, Kung Lao’s ability to work efficiently was being hindered.
Kung Lao was sure this was on purpose, the increase in visits and this attempt at night when he was most vulnerable, and it seemed that Raiden’s plan was rather well thought out.
Kung Lao attempted to close the portal once more, focusing all his strength on this one final attempt, but his heart skipped a beat once he saw a hand forcing its way through the rift in time which caused Kung Lao to falter.
“No..” Kung Lao thought to himself as he saw Raiden’s hand grip onto the side of the portal, seemingly pulling himself through with sheer force.
Kung Lao glared and took a step forward. He couldn't let him through, that just wasn't a possibility.
Kung Lao tried again, straining himself as he focussed all the power he had that came with being a god and demanded the rift closed.
Kung Lao was surprised to see the portal closing, his sinking heart rising back up momentarily, but he could feel himself instantly choke up once he saw Raiden’s other hand shooting through the rift and grabbing onto the other side of the portal.
Kung Lao’s eyes widened as he took a step back. This couldn't be happening. His face was plastered with worry as he saw two legs forming from the rift and being placed on the ground roughly, like he was looking for solid footing.
“NO!” Kung Lao yelled as he stuck his hand out, but his heart dropped once he saw Raiden’s face appear, and as soon as it did, the portal closed behind him.
The portal had closed so quickly it almost seemed like Raiden was in a panic to get rid of it, not wanting to be sent back any time soon after all the effort it took for him to get this far.
Kung Lao was staring at Raiden in disbelief, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Dark red lighting sparked around his hands, and Kung Lao wasn't sure if that was a remnant of him summoning the rift in time, or if it was a threat to keep him still. Either way, it was intimidating.
Kung Lao had a look of horror on his face, like death had come for him, and there was nothing he could do. That's how he felt at least.
“Don’t look at me like that…” Raiden said, his brows furrowed in what seemed like genuine sadness.
Kung Lao couldn't help his expression, his worst case scenario had just come true, and he was standing right in front of him.
Raiden stood there for a moment, seemingly in awe as he gazed at the man he adored with all of his being.
“...” Raiden’s mouth was open but he didn't say anything. Raiden then started moving forward, which caused Kung Lao to immediately step backward, but before his back could hit the wall, Raiden’s arms were wrapped around him.
Kung Lao expected a barrage of words to be falling out of the other's mouth, but as Raiden’s arms enveloped his body he could feel the other man breathing in a hefty breath. Raiden pressed his body against Kung Lao’s, placing his forehead against his shoulder.
Kung Lao was frozen at first, unable to comprehend the absurdity of this situation. Kung Lao was expecting violence and anger, so this sudden softness was throwing him off. Kung Lao could feel the other's heavy breathing as Raiden took in his scent.
“God…” Raiden said as he let out his breath slowly, as if he were trying to hold in his excitement. “...I missed this..” Raiden said lovingly as he attempted to hold Kung Lao even tighter.
Though Kung Lao was certainly caught off guard, Raiden’s words had snapped him out of it. Kung Lao wriggled out of his past lover's tight grip, placing his hands on Raiden’s chest, and harshly pushed him off of him.
Normally, Kung Lao wouldn't have been so rough with someone hugging him, but he saw Raiden as a significant threat, so he didn't hold back. Raiden had been pushed away, and had tumbled to the ground. The push was aggressive, so he had fallen right on his ass.
Kung Lao fixed his posture, standing up straight with his feet apart, and his hands up in a defensive manner. He was doing his best to look intimidating, but the fact that he had just woken up was obvious as he had no shirt on, only a pair of sweatpants.
Kung Lao glanced aside, his hat was sitting against the bedside table behind him. He wasn't sure whether he should go for it or not, as turning around would easily leave him vulnerable, but then again, he fought best with his weapon of choice aiding him.
Kung Lao then glanced back down at Raiden who was sitting on the ground strangely calm. His head was tilted down so Kung Lao couldn't see his expression. His hands were flat on the ground, keeping himself upright as his breathing remained steady and calm. Kung Lao would have expected Raiden to blow up, but he was as calm as ever.
Kung Lao then twitched when he saw Raiden raise his head. What he didn’t expect to see though, were eyes full of adoration staring back up at him.
Raiden smiled and placed his hands on the ground. Kung Lao was confused at first, but when he saw Raiden start crawling toward him, his confusion only worsened. Kung Lao’s brows furrowed as Raiden placed one hand in front of the other, inching toward him on the ground. Kung Lao took a step back, but just like a moment ago, there wasn't much space he could escape with.
Kung Lao was stiff when he felt hands on his leg. Raiden reached for Kung Lao’s right leg, quickly wrapping his arms around it, attaching himself to the younger man.
Raiden pulled himself further so his chest was touching the other’s pants, his arms moving upward and gripping his thigh tightly. Raiden just started forward momentarily as Kung Lao looked down at him. Raiden then leaned his head forward and placed a kiss on his clothed thigh.
Kung Lao attempted to pull back, but Raiden’s grip was far too tight, like he was almost afraid to let go. Raiden then glanced up at Kung Lao, which made him flinch. Raiden raised his body so he was no longer sitting on the ground, he steadied himself on his knees and placed his lips against Kung Lao’s navel.
Kung Lao felt like he was stuck in a dream, or maybe a nightmare, he wasn't quite sure, but when he felt his lips against his bare skin that made him react.
Kung Lao had reeled his arm back quickly and clenched his fist, and not a moment later his fist met Raiden’s cheek harshly. Kung Lao couldn't deny the fact that he was hesitant to do so, after all, Raiden had a history of being rather aggressive. Kung Lao was sure he had hit him hard, but Raiden only loosened his grip around him, though his hands had snaked their way up to his waist, Raiden still on his knees, though he was holding his head further away.
Kung Lao could see he had a mark on his cheek where he was hit, but Raiden just turned his head and softened his eyes.
“...You held back..” Raiden said and Kung Lao frowned. He wanted to refuse, but the words wouldn't come out. Kung Lao found the other man’s smile almost creepy, after all, who would be grinning like that after being hit?
Kung Lao then tried again, reeling his arm back once more, but this time, Raiden placed a foot flat on the ground and started to stand up properly. Raiden smoothly followed Kung Lao’s arm with his own, grabbing the younger man’s wrist harshly before he could get another solid hit on him. Raiden then placed both feet flat on the floor and stood up straight. He fixed his posture, and it was now obvious who was taller, even if it wasn't by all that much.
Raiden had one hand holding Kung Lao’s wrist tightly, while he placed his other hand on Kung Lao’s shoulder, and let it slide down his arm till their hands met. Raiden attempted to lock their fingers together, but Kung Lao pulled away.
Raiden took in a deep breath, just like he did a few moments earlier. “Lao…” Raiden said, and Kung Lao’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He hadn't been called that in so long. “I missed you…” Raiden said as he looked into the other’s eyes.
Raiden’s eyes were lidded, and full of desire, but Kung Lao’s were wide and fearful. Raiden then frowned slightly, noticing his expression.
“Don't look so upset…” Radien said with a face that almost looked like a sad puppy.
Kung Lao furrowed his brows at his words, did he even know what he was saying? He was silent at first, but he eventually came up with the right words that were festering in his throat.
“How could I not be?!” Kung Lao asked aloud, fighting against Raiden’s grip.
Raiden’s eyes softened as he glanced away momentarily, as if he were sad. He let out a breath, then spoke. “This won't be like that last time…” Raiden said, his tone almost pleading, but Kung Lao couldn't believe that.
“My ass,” Kung Lao replied, knowing he had to be full of shit. “You've always been a fucking liar,” Kung Lao said almost too calm for the situation. Instead of a titan that threatened the safety of his timeline, Kung Lao felt as if he were simply talking to an ex who had wronged him.
The corner of Raiden’s lip twitched, but then his frown was back. “Lao…I just…” Raiden said as he attempted to grab his hand again, but Kung Lao had it balled in a tight fist. Raiden then sighed, and allowed his free hands to move and slide down to the younger man’s waist.
Kung Lao breathed in sharply when he felt Raiden’s hand settle on his waist. His fingers were pressing into his skin not harshly, but firmly, a feeling that was more telling than he noticed.
“Please…?” Raiden said softly as he moved his body forward, pressing his chest against his former friends.
Kung Lao pulled back slightly so they were no longer touching, but not a second later did Raiden move forward so they were once again.
Kung Lao grit his teeth and knit his brows together. “Fuck you,” he cursed out, but it was clear to both of them that there was a significant lack of venom in his words.
Raiden didn't even seem to mind his words, just smiling as he squeezed the other’s waist together and walked Kung Lao forward till his back hit the wall.
Kung Lao bit the inside of his cheek as he felt himself being walked back into the wall behind him. As soon as his warm skin felt the chill of the wall, he inherently focused on the heat of the other’s body against his.
“I love you…” Raiden said in reply to Kung Lao’s words as he leaned forward, and placed a kiss on his neck.
Kung Lao held back a hiss, not wanting to enjoy the feeling of Raiden’s mouth against him. He didn't want to, but as Raiden’s hand moved behind him and placed pressure on the small of his back, he couldn't help but feel his heartbeat start to quicken.
“You're gorgeous,” Raiden said as his lips traveled down his neck.
Raiden’s kisses were so delicate, almost like he was holding back as he lightly nipped at his skin. Kung Lao knew he wanted nothing more to mark him up, to bite at his skin and make him bleed, but right now, his lips and even his teeth were as light as a fairy’s.
Raiden groaned as his mouth made its way down to his collarbone, it was clear he wanted more, so much more.
Kung Lao hated this feeling, the feeling of being swept away in something he shouldn't. He tried to steady his heart rate, forcing his breathing to become more steady. Kung Lao then moved his free hand and grabbed Raiden’s face, forcing his head away from his body.
Kung Lao could feel his skin tingling at his touches and he knew he had to stop this before he’d do something he’d regret. Kung Lao tightened his fingers against Raiden’s cheeks, squishing them slightly as he held his face away and glared at him.
“Fuck off back to your timeline! I want nothing to do with you…” Kung Lao said. His words were vicious at first, but after his second sentence left his mouth, his words seemed to trail off ever so slightly.
Kung Lao could feel Raiden chuckle as he snapped his head away, forcing Kung Lao’s hand off his face. Raiden then shifted his hands, letting go of Kung Lao entirely for a moment. Raiden then replaced his left hand on Kung Lao’s back, mirroring the way his other hand was a moment earlier, as his right hand grabbed his left wrist.
Kung Lao was thrown off by the switch up, a familiar position as the one they were just in. Raiden’s eyes were still soft as he brought Kung Lao’s arm forward and placed his lips on the palm of his hand. Raiden closed his eyes as he did, kissing his hand adamantly which made Kung Lao flush.
“There's nothing worth shit in my timeline…” Raiden said, finally replying to Kung Lao’s words.
“But in this one..” Raiden said as he opened his eyes and allowed his lips to place another kiss on the underside of Kung Lao’s wrist. “... You're here,” Raiden finished his sentence as he then stuck out his tongue, and licked at Kung Lao’s wrist.
Kung Lao couldn't help himself but flush, that was such a sensitive area he was giving his attention to, and he felt vulnerable letting those teeth of his so close to it.
“Raiden…” Kung Lao said with a frown. “You can't be here,” Kung Lao said as Raiden pulled his face away.
“Wherever you are…that’s where I need to be,” Raiden said solemnly as he held the other’s hand tighter.
Kung Lao shook his head. “...” He paused, his heart racing as he came up with the right words to say. “You can't…be with me Raiden..” Kung Lao said Raiden seemed to freeze.
Raiden’s brows furrowed, an expression he surprisingly had not seen yet today as he glanced back up at him. “Why?” Raiden asked firmly as he stepped closer, his face inches away from his friend’s.
Kung Lao grimaced and bared his teeth. “You know why,” Kung Lao said simply knowing Raiden knew better than anyone as to why they had split in the first place.
“But I love you…” Raiden said, almost as if he were lost as his glare turned into a frown. Raiden looked like he was confused, panicked even.
“I…” Raiden said as he moved Kung Lao’s hand, placing it against his chest. Kung Lao was surprised that he was able to feel Raiden’s heartbeat, and it was beating quickly. “I love you more than anyone ever could..” Raiden said, but that was the problem.
“I'd do anything for you…” Raiden said, and Kung Lao knew that was more than true. “You're my entire world…Lao…” Raiden said, and there was that nickname again.
Kung Lao then turned his head away, not wanting the other man to see his expression. “..Don't call me that..” He said, hating the way he suddenly felt choked up.
“Lao…” Raiden said sweetly, in a tone that didn’t match the situation as Kung Lao turned his face further away.
“...Lao…?” Raiden asked in a sing-song voice, his words coming out slowly. Raiden then placed a hand on Kung Lao’s cheek, allowing his thumb to caress his face for a moment.
Kung Lao’s teeth were grit tightly as he felt pressure being put on his cheek. He tried to fight it at first, but eventually, his face was forced back to its original position. Kung Lao closed his eyes tightly, not even wanting to look at Raiden, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold back the feelings that had been trapped in his chest for all these years. He wasn't sure if he’d yell, cry, or hit him, but he knew he was on the brink of breaking.
Raiden admired Kung Lao’s face, knowing he’d happily stare at him for all eternity if he could. Raiden smiled, this is why he came to his timeline, why he’d fought so hard to get here, even if Kung Lao didn't want him. To see that gorgeous face of his, to hold this beautiful body of his, to taste his tanned skin, to devour him whole and never let him recover.
Radein just stared at Kung Lao. whose eyes were still closed shut. He then held Kung Lao’s face firmly, tilted his head, and leaned forward, closing his eyes as he placed his lips on the other man’s.
That got Kung Lao to open his eyes, but as soon as he did, Raiden leaned in and stuck his tongue in the other’s mouth, invading it as if it were his own. Kung Lao felt his heart leap out of his chest as he placed his hands on Raiden’s shoulders. Kung Lao attempted to push him away, but Raiden had slithered his fingers in Kung Lao’s hair and pulled on it tightly as he kissed him desperately.
Raiden almost didn't care about breathing, he only wanted to be intertwined with Kung Lao at any cost.
“Mmm,” Raiden groaned as their mouths danced together in what anyone could tell was a deeply debauched lust.
“Hahh..” Kung Lao breathed out as he forced his face away in order to be able to take a proper breath. His breathing was heavy, but Raiden didn't care. He simply placed both of his hands on Kung Lao’s cheeks and went in for another.
“Hngh-” Kung Lao moaned as he felt those lips against his again. They were so soft, but they were so aggressive.
Raiden felt intoxicated as he tasted the other’s saliva after what could only have been millennia. There were very few things he missed more than that taste, but luckily for him, they were all attached to the same body.
Raiden then pulled away, only because he needed to see the expression on his friend’s face. As soon as their tongues released from each other, Kung Lao looked hungry. His eyes were lowered, and his mouth was hanging open as he breathed in deep breaths. Raiden enjoyed the look of his wet lips and starving eyes, and who was he to deny the man he traveled universes for?
“ I know what you want..” Raiden said as he let his hands slowly trail down his body. Kung Lao knew he shouldn't give in to Raiden’s ministrations, but he always knew how to unravel him effortlessly.
“I always do…” Raiden finished his sentence as his fingers lightly traced Kung Lao’s nipples.
Kung Lao shivered, he really shouldn't be doing this right now. Kung Lao had his hand on the outside of Raiden’s arms as his fingers teased his chest. Kung Lao couldn't look anywhere but down as he watched Raiden slid his nipples between his fingers and slid them up and down.
Kung Lao clenched his teeth and hissed out a shiver, trying to hold himself back as best he could. Raiden didn't seem to approve of that though, and then pinched both of them roughly which had Kung Lao letting out a gasp in surprise.
“There it is..” Raiden said as he let one of his hands to drop away, only to be replaced with his mouth.
Raiden placed a kiss on Kung Lao’s right nipple, glancing up to see his face perfectly flushed and begging for more.
Raiden then stuck out his tongue and gave his nipple a long, slow lick, relishing the feeling of it after so long. “Hmm..” Raiden moaned as he covered Kung Lao’s pert bud in his saliva. Once the tip of his tongue got to it he pressed down roughly on his hard nipple, shuckling when he heard Kung Lao’s muffled moan.
Raiden then traced around it carefully, feeling a hand being placed in his hair as he did. Raiden then wrapped his lips back around his nipple, sucking on it adamantly as he glanced up again.
The look on Kung Lao’s face was indescribable and Raiden wanted to see more of his expressions.
Raiden then pulled his face away and switched to his other nipple, giving it a chaste kiss as his free hand played with the other one, lightly tracing the sensitive bud now soaked in his spit. Kung Lao had to hold himself back from pushing on Raiden’s head, wanting more of his mouth on his body.
Kung Lao hated how easily he fell apart under Radien’s sweet words, it had always been like this. He hated how even after all this time, he could still remember the way his bare skin felt pressed against his.
Raiden was sucking Kung Lao’s nipple adamantly, just loving the fact that he could taste his skin and hear the softness in his moans again. Raiden then pulled his face away and Kung Lao had to hold back any disappointed noises he wanted to make, but even without his voice, Raiden knew he was disappointed. After all, he never stopped thinking about him.
“You did always love when I sucked your nipples till they were red and sensitive,” Raiden said, and Kung Lao flushed. Hearing it out loud sounded so vulgar. “And I would continue, baby..” Raiden started as he lowered his body back down to the ground, now on his knees. “But I've been craving something else for eons…” Raiden said as he raised his hands and slipped his fingers under the hem of Kung Lao’s pants.
Kung Lao’s eyes widened when he felt his pants being quickly dropped to the floor. He flushed even brighter when he saw the way Raiden’s eyes glistened.
“No underwear…?” Raiden asked, glancing up at him briefly. Raiden then laughed. “Some things never change I suppose,” He said, remembering he never had underwear on in the past when they fucked.
Raiden then hummed as he placed his hands on Kung Lao’s bare thighs, squeezing his muscles slightly before he slid his hands down his legs, caressing his skin underneath. Raiden leaned his head forward, taking a deep breath in as he placed his nose right under Kung Lao’s balls. Raiden looked up, Kung Lao’s hard cock twitching right above his face.
“Raiden..” Kung Lao whispered, but Raiden didn't respond. Instead, he stuck out his tongue and placed it right at the base of his cock.
Kung Lao shivered and leaned against the wall as he felt Raiden’s tongue slowly moving up his shaft. Raiden’s tongue was delicate as it traced over every vein of Kung Lao’s dick. He shivered, closing his eyes as he felt the other’s tongue seemingly teasing him.
Raiden smiled as his tongue made its way up and eventually laying flat against his head. Raiden then kissed the tip of his cock which had Kung Lao sucking in air through his teeth. Raiden then placed another kiss, then another, then another, and another, until he felt Kung Lao’s grip in his hair tighten ever so slightly. It was hardly noticeable, but Raiden took each and every one of his movements and ingrained them into his mind.
Raiden then wrapped his lips around the tip of Kung Lao’s cock which had him taking a very shaky breath.
“Ngh…” Kung Lao tried to hold back his voice, but once he felt Raiden’s hot mouth sinking down on his dick he couldn't control himself any longer.
“Oh shit…” Kung Lao moaned as he opened his eyes, a wave of lust washing over him as he saw how Raiden’s lips looked wrapped around his dick.
Kung Lao’s mouth was parted in awe as he felt Raiden’s tongue rubbing against him lovingly. He had no trouble taking all of his length down his throat and he couldn't stop the way his voice couldn't stay stable.
“Oh fuh-...fuck..” Kung Lao stuttered out as he stared down at the scene under him.
It had been embarrassingly long since the last time he’d had his dick in somebody’s mouth, but that was simply one of the consequences of being the god of a timeline, the creator of the universe. It was a drawback he claimed he didn't miss very much, but at this very moment, for a second, he considered giving away his titan abilities if it meant he could have his cock down Raiden’s throat any time he wanted.
“Mhmm…yeah,” Kung Lao moaned as his eyes lidded. Once he could feel Raiden’s lips touching the base of his pelvis again, Kung Lao couldn't stop himself from putting pressure on Raiden’s head, forcing his head to stay there as his cock throbbed inside of his throat.
“Haughh….hah- oh fuck…” Kung Lao moaned as he held Raiden’s head steady. Raiden’s throat was so hot and tight around his dick, he almost felt like it was on fire. Kung Lao was leaning forward slightly as he forced Raiden to stay still. He felt so sensitive and he could feel the way he throbbed in his mouth.
Raiden then hummed, which had Kung Lao protesting in sensitive twitches and moans.
“Ahh- hahh...ngh..hahh..” Kung Lao let out as he felt the vibrations along his cock. This felt too good, dangerously so, and Raiden knew that's what he was thinking. Raiden then pulled his head away, letting Kung Lao’s cock slide out of his mouth and fling back up.
Raiden coughed and took a deep breath once his cock was free, though he very much enjoyed having it down his throat. Kung Lao’s scent was intoxicating, but his taste was almost making him feel drunk.
Raiden had one desire, one thing that had been on his mind since before he had even got here, which is why he had stopped so soon. Raiden glanced up at Kung Lao whose breathing was heavy already. Raiden smiled as he placed his hand on the back of Kung Lao’s right thigh, and lifted it up.
Kung Lao was caught off guard with his leg being forcefully raised. He placed his hands on the wall behind him, pressing all his weight on it so he could stay upright.
“Raiden..?” Kung Lao asked as he tried to catch his breath, but before he could get another word out, Raiden’s face was being pressed in between Kung Lao’s ass.
Kung Lao’s posture stiffened significantly, and he hadn't even realized he was slouching so much. He let out a rather loud whine as he felt Raiden’s tongue right against his hole, and that was his weakness.
Raiden was holding Kung Lao’s thigh as far apart as he could, as his other hand was gripping Kung Lao’s ass, spreading him apart as best he could as he shoved his tongue in between them.
This. This was what Raiden had been craving for ages. It was like a drug to him. To Raiden, there was nothing so delectable in any realm, and now, he felt so incredibly starved, and he was going to get his fill.
“Mmm,” Raiden groaned as his tongue circled Kung Lao’s tight hole. Raiden wished he could see his meal, but he couldn’t because of the position he was in. Raiden just knew it looked as delectable as it tasted, wanting more and more by the second.
“So good..” Raiden said, but Kung Lao could hardly make out what he said as his words were muffled in between his cheeks.
Kung Lao hissed when he felt Raiden’s tongue plunging into him and he leaned back, wanting more of the feeling as his tongue impaled his hole. Raiden wrapped his lips around Kung Lao's pucked hole, almost as if he were making out with it. He pressed his face in further, but his tongue could only get so far, which frustrated him.
“Ugh-ngh- hahhh..” Kung Lao moaned as he tried to make out words, but he was so desperate for more he couldn't make out anything but that.
“More…ahhh fuck-” Kung Lao moaned as he felt Raiden's tongue licking at his walls.
Raiden seemed like he could never be sated as his grip on Kung Lao’s legs was so rough it was almost bruising him, but Kung Lao could hardly notice as he felt himself getting closer to orgasm from just his mouth attacking all of his most sensitive places.
“Oh my god- hngh…” Kung Lao moaned out desperately, but that's when Raiden pulled his mouth away, and this time, Kung Lao loudly protested with a disappointed sigh.
Raiden licked his lips as he spread his legs apart further. He looked up at the sight above him, and it was like he fell in love all over again. His asshole was so tight and so fucking pink. It looked swollen from his tongue trading him, but it was clenching around nothing, as if his hole was just begging to be destroyed.
“Hahh..” Raiden moaned as he stared up at Kung Lao’s hole.
“Im gonna fuck that hole, “ Raiden said, though he meant it as more of a promise than anything.
Kung Lao felt a shiver run down his spine as Raiden spoke, and at this point, he wanted nothing more than for Raiden to keep that promise of his.
Raiden then stood up, allowing Kung Lao’s leg to be placed back down on the ground, but not for very long. Raiden smirked as he took a step forward, leaning in and placing a passionate kiss on Kung Lao’s lips. Kung Lao could taste his hole on Raiden’s lips, and he was disappointed when he pulled his mouth away so quickly.
Raiden chuckled. “I thought you wanted me to fuck off,” Raiden said with a smile but Kung Lao just glared at him, scoffed, and pushed him away slightly.
Kung Lao then turned and bent over his bed, his chest laying flat on his sheets as he reached backward and spread himself open for Raiden to take.
Raiden’s eyes widened, he definitely wasn't expecting that. He blinked a few times as Kung Lao spread his asscheeks apart, revealing that sweet little hole of his that had Raiden wrapped around it. Raiden’s eyes lowered as he stared at how it clenched and loosened, Kung Lao was so irresistible, so much so it had him traveling timelines, and it was most certainly worth it, just for this.
Raiden then took a step forward and placed a hand on Kung Lao’s bare ass. He rubbed it softly, admiring how smooth it was before he squeezed it rather tightly. His ass was like jelly, and he couldn't help himself but give it a firm slap.
Raiden raised his hand, and then quickly dropped it, hitting Kung Lao’s ass harshly which made him let out a desperate cry. Raiden chuckled, and did it again, enjoying the way his flesh jiggled after it was hit.
Raiden quickly leaned his head down and kissed the area he had hit. He caressed it softly, then placed a soft kiss there. Raiden then smiled against his skin as he opened his mouth and bit rather roughly down on his ass, causing Kung Lao to yelp.
Raiden pulled away to see his work, loving how his teeth looked marked on that ass of his. Raiden then leaned down once more and placed a kiss on Kung Lao’s twitching hole. He pulled back up.
“Fuck Raiden…Fuck..” Kung Lao moaned in frustration as he spread himself apart further. He was so horny it was embarrassing, and Kung Lao felt pathetic at how he’d fallen apart like this, but the only thought on his mind was Raiden’s cock fucking him until he couldn't speak.
“Oh Lao…” Raiden said sweetly as he rubbed his ass cheek with one hand, and unbuttoned his pants with the other.
Raiden’s eyes were fixated on his hole as he tightened and begged for him to fuck him senseless.
Kung Lao preened at the nickname, remembering the times he had used it so long ago when he was balls deep, buried inside of him.
Raiden had pulled his cock out and started stroking himself. He was already rock hard, and he had been that way since he was on the ground, kissing at Kung Lao’s leg.
“I’ll help you, don't worry,” Raiden said as he stroked his cock and aligned his tip with his hole.
“Oh, it's so wet…” Raiden said in a whisper as if he were in awe, even though he was the one who had made it so wet in the first place.
Kung Lao moaned as he felt the tip of his cock right against his hole. He felt a wave of pure debauchery flossing his body as he imagined how that dick of his would feel as it was shoved inside. God, he wanted it so bad. He wanted to be fucked, it was the only thing he could think about, how shameless could he be.
But when Kung Lao felt Raiden’s cock start to push inside of him, all he could do was moan and enjoy it.
“Just like that…” Raiden said as he took in a deep breath as he slid his cock inside of Kung Lao.
Both of them were surprisingly silent as Raiden's cock slid inside, stopping at first as his head was enveloped by otherworldly warmth. Raiden was already out of breath, but he continued, and slid himself inside of Kung Lao’s ass even further, only stopping once his entire length was inside of him.
Kung Lao’s mouth was hanging open as he shivered and twitched at the feeling of being full. He could feel that tight, painful stretch around his rim, but that cock inside of him felt like nothing but heaven.
“Good boy…” Raiden praised as he placed his hands on Kung Lao’s hips, and slowly started pulling out of him.
Kung Lao was laying there in anticipation as the other pulled out, but he was quickly satisfied once he felt his hips snap back, his cock being shoved deeply inside of him as he cried out in pure pleasure.
“Ah! Ahh-uhh- fuuck..” Kung Lao moaned out as he gripped the sheets on his bed tightly.
Raiden held the others' hips tightly, living how vocal Kung Lao had become, a sharp contrast from how they’d started.
“Oh, Kung Lao..” Raiden said as he slammed his cock into the other man, Kung Lao moaning pathetically with every single one of his thrusts.
“I'm never letting go of you…” Raiden said as his heart was full of desire, of want, of pure need.
Raiden chuckled as his pace stayed quick and unrelenting, seemingly exactly what Kung Lao wanted. “I'm all you'll ever need Lao,” He said lovingly, but Kung Lao couldn't even think as his ass was being pounded into jelly.
His ass felt so soft, his insides were so plush and delectable, it was hot and tight and Raiden didn't ever want to pull out.
Raiden smiled as he fucked into the other man at a quicker pace. “Y'know…” Raiden said, letting his words trail off playfully as he felt a fire building inside of him. “I’d make you pregnant if I could…” Raiden said, and Kung Lao shivered at those words, and he wasn't sure why.
“Haughh..nghhh-ahh..ahh..!” Kung Lao moaned out loudly, ad if an indication of how close he was since he was being fucked too good to speak.
“So good..” Raiden said as he watched the way his cock slid in and out of that tight hole of his. “I'm going to cum in you,” Raiden said as he continued his motions. “Paint your warm hole with my cum..” Raiden said as if he were in a trance.
“Yeah…” Raiden said as he pounded into Kung Lao, whose legs were twitching frantically.
Raiden couldn't believe just how in love he was with the man under him, in fact, love seemed like a frivolous word compared to how his heart wanted to eat him whole. There was nothing he wanted so purely in any world other than the man he had right now, and there was no chance he’d ever let go of him, not when he knew he was all he needed.
If it only meant that he’d stay with him forever, Raiden would happily rip out his heart and allow Kung Lao to feast on it entirely.
Raiden didn't know how to convey how utterly he needed Kung Lao, but he figured he’d have time for all of that in the eons they would now have together, for Raiden had no intention of letting Kung Lao out of his sight any longer.
“You're mine, Kung Lao,” Raiden said with a glint in his eyes as he gripped his hips tightly.
“Hnghh…fuhh..” Kung Lao could hardly get out a full word as he felt himself losing it.
“Go on…cum with my dick inside of you,” Raiden said with a smile. “Just like how you used to..” Raiden said and Kung Lao couldn’t help but oblige as he came all over his bed and stomach without having to be touched.
“Ahh- oh fuckk..Ahh..” Kung Lao moaned as his eyes rolled back.
Raiden smiled genuinely, feeling pure adoration as the love of his life came while skewered on his dick. There was nothing so pleasurable.
“So good for me,” Raiden moaned as he gripped his hips tightly. “Squeezing so tight like that..” Raiden said with half a moan as Kung Lao squeezed down on his shaft because of his orgasm.
“My cum’s gonna drip out of you..” Raiden said, his speech almost slurred as he felt himself come undone as he came inside Kung Lao’s tight hole.
“Ahhh..Hahh..ugh..” Raiden moaned out as he threw his head back, feeling himself spilling his white, hot pleasure inside of the love of his life.
“Oh- god- ahhh..” Raiden moaned as he came far more than either of them were expecting.
Kung Lao could feel cum filling up his insides, and he shivered as Raiden bottomed out inside of him one last time.
Kung Lao was groaning against the bed, only now loosening his grip on the now-ruined sheets of his bed. His legs and cock were twitching as he tried to come back from the most intense orgasm he’s had in years.
“No one could ever fuck you like this,” Raiden said as he rubbed Kung Lao’s back comfortingly. “Stay with me, Lao…” Raiden said, leaning down so he could kiss his back. "Through all timelines...to any extent...for all eternity..." Raiden said with a pause as he met the others' gaze.
Kung Lao turned his face and Raiden took the opportunity to place a hand on his cheek and bring his face closer.
“...I'll have you…” Raiden finished his sentence and he placed his lips on Kung Lao’s, and caught him in a kiss.
11 notes · View notes
abyssthing198 · 4 months
Text
Carmilla Au: Imaginary Friend
Tumblr media
The middle child of a widowed countess, Ophelia grew up only in their family home. The home, called Sentus Manor, was located deep within the heart Artio's Cradle. Far from any main roads, the locals claimed that the manor was in the heart of vampire country, so they avoided it at all costs. As such, Ophelia had a very isolating up bringing. They weren't technically alone by any means, having the presence of their brothers, mother, and mentor/teacher, Lord Divus Crewel, to keep them company within the manor. And there was also the occasional visit from their Uncle Morgan, the Earl of Artio's Cradle, who was often away to deal with the duties that came with his title. However Ophelia still felt lonely, and wanted nothing more than to have a campion of their own that wasn't family or a teacher to befriend and be with.
Once they were younger, Ophelia had gotten mysteriously sick. They were tired and bed ridden as various doctors would come and go without a guess to what was afflicting them. The only suggestion they had was for them to receive as much fresh air as possible, and that a window should be left slightly open to let in fresh air at night. During this time, they dreamt of meeting a young girl around their age and befriending her. Though they couldn't remember the name the girl had, they can remember that she had wavy, ashy hair and deep green eyes. Each dream was the same: the two girls would be playing the manor's garden then the girl would drag Ophelia into the forest, wanting to show them a secret, and bring them to an old looking church. The girl would then bring Ophelia into the church and the dream would end and they would wake up, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off their chest and a slight pain in their neck. They told their older brother, Vincent, about the dreams after a couple nights of the same dream, wondering if it held some sort of hidden meaning.
Upon hearing about these dreams, Vincent asked to see the spot on their neck where they were feeling the pain and found two small, pin point markings in the area. When he saw the markings, he called for Lord Crewel to inspect the markings as well. Ophelia wasn't sure why, as the two became secretive about why but that same night Vincent shut the open window and stayed with them until dawn, claiming to want to have a sleep over together like they used to have. That night, the dream stopped. The following day a priest came to the manor, brought in by their mother to bless Ophelia with good health. After the blessing, they slowly recovered as if whatever had been inflecting them had disappeared over night. Though their mother, Vincent, and Crewel still watched over them closely, as if they were afraid it might return. The repeating dream of the silver-haired girl also stopped, and never returned much to Ophelia's sorrow, as they felt like they had lost a friend despite knowing she had never existed.
Tumblr media
To say the Marina was pissed off was an understatement. Not only did she lose her chance to turn her latest victim, but they and the manor lived at had now been blessed but some priest; this made it was near impossible for her to even consider trying again any time soon. Glaring through through the window from outside, Marina transformed back into a bat and flew off back into the forest to avoid the newly rising sun. Flying through the dark forest, avoiding the peaking streams of sunlight, she arrived at an old abandoned cathedral. Coming in through a hole the roof, Marina transformed back into her regular form and landed gracefully in front of the crumbling alter.
"You're back late, Marina." Called a voice from behind her. Mumbling some choice words under her breath, the vampire turned around to face her brother, who was sitting in one of the old pews reading.
"It wasn't my intention to return late, Azul. There were just a couple... snags tonight."
Azul looked up from his book at Marin, eyes narrowing. "Snags? What do you mean by snags? Did that family catch sight of you?"
"Not quite. Though they did figure out what was happening the child."
"Hmm, that's quite unfortunate for you."
"Very; I was so close to turning them too... but that damned bastard convinced the countess to bring in a priest to bless them. " Marina remarked, sorrowfully.
"Well," said Azul as he stood up, "for as much I would love to leave you to grief over the loss of what could have been, I'm afraid you must do that in the carriage ride."
"Why are we going on carriage ride?"
"The locals have started getting more aware of our presence. As such, mother has decided that it is no longer safe for us here. She has arranged for a carriage to take us all to a city in on the coast of the Coral Sea."
"I... I see"
"Now, don't look too disappointed, Marina. There are going to be plenty of future opportunities with plenty of other girls for you to turn." Azul said, trying to reassure his sister as he lead them to the entrance of the Cathedral to wear their mother was waiting. "So don't get caught up over the loss of one person."
But there is something different about them, something... special, Marina thought as the two walked, exiting the cathedral and entering the parked carriage after their mother. As the carriage drove along the winding side roads, Marina watched Sentus Manor disappear from their vision and into the horizon as carriage drove past it. It was right then she vowed to return one day, to finish what she hadn't gotten the chance to this time around
@writing-heiress @anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @marrondrawsalot @the-weirdos-mind @achy-boo
8 notes · View notes
karoiseka · 8 months
Note
obligatory 💙 for the kiss meme but also 💕!!! any combination of your bard trio. also 💜 for kar'a and hyth
You are a menace and I love you. lol Sorry for the delay, but here's all three!! A bit smaller each, but I think they all came out to be about the length of one of the prior prompts once combined!
obligatory 💙drunken kiss / tipsy for the kiss meme but also 
((Micro-fic for this one. lol))
The bottles swam in front of Karo’s vision as she tried to focus on the Doman Prince across the table from her.  This was probably not a wise choice the night before battle, but, she had needed to unwind, and for once felt safe enough to do so in the company she was with.
A long blink later, and she realized she was being carried to her bedroll in the corner near the twins.  Hien pressed a kiss to her forehead as he tucked the blanket around her, pointedly leaving a glass of water just within arms reach–but not close enough to spill if she flailed in her sleep.  Curling onto her side, his watchful smile was the last thing she remembered before dawn.
Tumblr media
💕kissing somewhere other than lips!!! any combination of your bard trio. also 
The warm water was a very welcome and pleasant change from the chilly air of Sharylan, and Karo couldn’t get enough.  The fact that it was completely private and isolated away from all responsibilities was a boon, and the overwhelming thought that all this land was hers, well, that was a thought for another day.  There had been enough guilt for pushing and pulling everyone on the Star as far as she had–yes to save literally everyone–but it didn’t make the flexing of that power feel any better.  Getting rewarded for it in this fashion was–a little unsettling–yet the benefits were starting to wear down at her frugal mind.
“You, my dear, are not supposed to be thinking that hard right now,” the words were spoken after strong arms bore her to the surface of the water, wrapping around her and lazily keeping them both afloat.  An affectionate kiss was nuzzled into her neck by Thancred, as she belatedly realized that her lack of paying attention had led to her quietly slipping underwater while she was thinking.  Not that this was a problem with the blessing of the kami, however, it was a tad embarrassing.
Tumblr media
G’raha glided over to where they were floating, butting heads gently with her, and kissing Thancred on the cheek.  They both had of course come with her when Tataru had dropped her off on the island initially, seeing as she was still technically recovering.  This was a last little adventure for the three of them before having to buckle down on more serious work–Thancred going exploring with the ever patient Urianger, and G’raha starting to take up full time duties with the Students of Baldesion once more.  
For now though, it was time to enjoy the sun, and her loves–so that was what she planned to do.
Tumblr media
💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss for kar'a and hyth
Amethyst eyes popped open as Ikarus leaned over her friend and lover, a good-natured scowl crossing her face.
“That sight of yours makes it very hard to surprise you, did you know?”  Closing the gap, she finished the motion, kissing him as he chuckled.
“Sorry, little bird,” gracefully, she sank the rest of the way to the ground next to Hythlodaeus, curling up around him as he wrapped an arm around her.  It had taken her longer than she liked to admit to find him, hidden away in a favorite clearing in the part near his office.  Said office was of course the first place she looked, it being one of his working days, but she found the room empty besides abandoned concepts, yet to be reviewed.
Tumblr media
She wasn’t supposed to be in Amaurot currently,  as she was assigned to a task half the star away to survey the farms there.  The rest of her friends and compatriots in the field were scattered for the time being, busy with their own missions, so she had been alone.
And alone was not how she wanted to be this night–for it was night where she had teleported from, bleary-eyed, and desiring comfort.  It was a silly thing to feel so lonely when she was so respected and cared for when out in the world–yet here she was.  Desiring someone to call her Ikarus again, not Azem.
When she awoke, Hyth had already slipped away, most likely to return to his daily duties, however, she wasn't alone.  Emet-Selch, Hades, sat a few feet away, guarding her while she slept, oblivious to the world around her.  How like Hythlodaeus to get one lover to watch the other.  Her co-worker was reading, his own reports it looked like, so still not off the clock despite being dragged away from his desk. 
Rolling over, Kar'a crawled the few feet to his side, peeking over his shoulder as he scowled at her–not as fiercely as he used to, but still at least pretending to be annoyed. 
"Thank you," she leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment as he sighed with great exaggeration. 
"Thank your partner in mischief," he turned back to his work as she chuckled.
"Ah, but you did come when he asked, so my thanks shall go to you," her childhood friend sighed again as her spirits rose.  Moving quickly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could jerk away, teleporting away immediately after.  As the park disappeared around her, she could see him turn to watch her, expression softening to an exasperated fond smile.
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
one-true-houselight · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[id: an illustrated poem over ten images.
'Two boxes stare at me, unblinking. 
'There’s been a problem, I say.
'You’ve asked me who I am, but have only given me these choices.' (There is a blue and a pink box)
'Oh, of course, our apologies. 
'A new paper. 
'Three boxes stare at me, unblinking. 
'Something tells me I won’t be able to get another paper.' (There is the same blue and pink box, and a messy green box has been added.)
2. 'This is what I’ve come to expect: a hastily added third option, or a sliding scale between two options.' (There is the same messy green box, along with a question mark, and a blue to pink gradient)
'I’m not sure which is less accurate.'
3. 'I have fallen into the trap that to disavow myself of the label printed on my forehead at birth, I had to run for the opposite shore. But it wasn’t right, not really.' (There is a hand throwing a pink heart into a garbage can)
'I am not a third option. I do not appear on any gradient, any sliding scale.' (There is a figure clutching their chest, where there is a red heart shaped hole.)
4. 'I float among the stars, flipping and turning in three dimensions (four if you count the time flowing through my fingertips).' (The words float on a black gradient background with stars. The words flipping and turning are doing as such.) 
'I am running through a forest, a stream by my side, racing a race that has rules neither me nor the rushing water can fathom, and that has no winners, no losers, simply the promise of existence.' (These words are seemingly immersed in a river, which shows the reflections of trees.)
5. 'I am high in a catwalk, everything around me dark but for the light hanging in open space. No one could confirm what form I take, least of all me. I see the silhouette of two hands against the light, a nose that glasses slide down. Any other details are lost to the darkness, until I smile, the light reflecting off what we hope are simply teeth.' (There is a ERS stage light hanging from a railing, throwing a cone of soft light. There is also a smile of sharp teeth.)
6. 'I am dusk and dawn, midnight and high noon, all at once and none at all.' (There is a sunrise and sunset, along with a fully up sun, a crescent moon, and a full moon partially hidden by clouds.)
'I am the waves lapping at the rocks, I am the foam stirred up by the wind, and I am the rain returning to the ocean below.' (There is an ocean wave, rocks, and rain.) 
'I am the light that defines the void, and the void that defines the light.' (The word 'light' glows white against a black shape, and the word 'void' glows black against the white.)
7. 'I am every type of cloud in the sky, something that seems so insubstantial, but bigger and fuller than could ever be imagined.' (There are clouds of various types.)
'I am fire, I jump, I spark, I send embers into the sky, telling others I am here. I smolder. And sometimes I die.' (There are leaping flames, throwing up sparks, which some of the words follow. There are also smoldering embers.) 
'I am everything, and I am nothing.'
8. 'I weave words into tapestries to admire, into a blanket to keep one warm, into a lens to see the world at a new angle. And when who I am claims to be beyond words, I laugh and set about proving everyone, even myself, to be wrong. I am words, I am nouns, verbs, and adjectives. I am a period ending a chapter, a question mark demanding what for, an exclamation mark screaming to the howling void that I am here, and a comma showing that there is more to come. I am the space between letters, where hidden messages lie (or so I’m told).' (These words are backed by colorful glitter.)
'Here I am, given these boxes three, but when I let words pour from my soul, I am truly free.' (The blue, pink, and green boxes are back.)
9. 'Some may say this is all irrelevant to the question asked, but I raise them this: what importance can that question have, if it does not reflect the person it is asked of?
'So this is what I say.'
10. 'I am a far off storm radio announcing an incoming storm.
'I am me, and nothing more.' (There is a meadow, with a storm cloud rolling in, dropping rain. In the distance is a radio, making noise. There is also a small drawing of my face, a white non binary person with short dark hair and blue glasses.)
/end id]
This post brought to you by 'Erika discovered a whole bunch of new brushes!!!!'
4 notes · View notes
ollieofthebeholder · 2 months
Text
to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic
Read from the beginning || AO3 || My Website
Chapter 93: August 2004
Gerry is not, by nature, an early riser. He’s something of a night owl, actually, prone to staying up until the wee small hours with paintbrush and stereo and then collapsing for the better part of the morning. He’s the sort of man who would have worked the swing shift at the factory during the war or taken third watch on a sailing vessel, keener-sighted with nothing to light his way but a quarter moon and the occasional amber glow of a street lamp than with full sun in a cloudless sky, and should he tend towards one of the Fears would be well on his way to being the monster under the bed or the shadow in the alley.
But he can get up early when it’s important, so he steps out into the grey light of pre-dawn, locks the shop door behind himself, and sets off across London.
He doesn’t bother going to the house. It’s going to be chaos this morning, with Aunt Lily probably trying to delay things as much as possible and Martin actually considering staying and Melanie bullying him out the door while simultaneously forgetting half a dozen things, and Uncle Roger in the midst of it all being helpful in the most cheerfully unhelpful way imaginable. He can picture it all in his mind’s eye. No, best he stay away. He knows where they’ll be, so he stops long enough to pick up another pack of Woodbines and smokes one as he makes his way to the King’s Cross St. Pancras Underground stop.
Over the years, Gerry has traveled out of every station in London, most of them a dozen times, and St. Pancras has always been his favorite. There’s no real reason for it, especially since they don’t usually spend a lot of time waiting in the stations—his mother, and by extension Gerry and his siblings, have the timetables memorized and their timing down to almost an art, so they never have to wait more than eight minutes unless there’s a delay. He supposes it’s the memories. King’s Cross, just across the road, is good too, but he prefers St. Pancras if he has a choice. He usually doesn’t.
It’s raining, and it’s also early, which means limited traffic. Gerry leans against the wall just outside the Tube entrance, smokes his cigarette, and waits. There’s a café just over there he could probably wait in if he really wanted to, but he’s afraid of missing them if he does.
Suddenly he sees a familiar car pull up to the curb, exactly where he thought it would. Smiling, he flicks the remains of his cigarette into a puddle and moves towards it as the doors open and the occupants—or three of them, at any rate, he doesn’t know if the fourth is there—climb out.
“Carry your bags, miss?” he asks in his best Cockney accent.
“Gerry!” Melanie drops the suitcase she was starting to haul out back into the boot and hugs him tightly. Since he’s gone on a growth spurt since the last time he saw her, she misjudges slightly, but it’s no less welcome. “Are you just getting back in from—where was it this time?”
“Salzberg, by way of most of the former Austrian Empire. And no, I’ve been back since Tuesday.” Gerry hugs her back. “Been a bit busy, but I wasn’t going to miss this. Hey, Martin.”
“Hey.” Martin smiles brightly and comes over to hug him. He’s hit another growth spurt, too, and for the first time Gerry finds he has to look up at his little brother.
That never stops being a novelty, does it? A voice, tinged with melancholy, murmurs in the back of his mind, and Gerry agrees before it occurs to him that he doesn’t know where that thought, or for that matter the voice, came from.
“I can smell the cigarette smoke,” Martin whispers in his ear, bringing his attention back to the present. “Those things’ll kill you, you know.”
“I know, but you can’t blame me for needing stress relief today,” Gerry whispers back, giving Martin an extra squeeze before letting him go.
Uncle Roger gives him a fond smile and claps him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Harold.”
“Gerard,” Gerry corrects him automatically. “It’s good to see you, too, Uncle Roger.”
For just a second, there’s a flicker of something in Uncle Roger’s eyes, but it’s there and gone in a flash. “All right, all right. We’ve left it enough time for you to grab something if you hurry. Have you got your tickets?”
“Right here, Dad.” Martin pats his jacket pocket.
“Mine’s here.” Melanie holds up her bag, the one Gerry bought her in Cairo five years ago. It makes him absurdly happy that she’s still using it.
There’s a few moments of confusion as Gerry and Uncle Roger get Melanie and Martin’s luggage out of the boot and Melanie and Martin reassure him several times that they have both money and tickets, and then there’s another round of hugs in the rain. Then Uncle Roger turns to Gerry.
“Where are you going to school?” he asks, sounding slightly confused. “Which train will you be taking?”
“I’m staying right here in London, Uncle Roger.” Gerry carefully doesn’t look at Melanie. “Mum needs me at the shop. But I’ll make sure they get off safe.”
“Oh. Good. Thank you.” That thing flits through Uncle Roger’s eyes again, and this time, it lingers long enough that Gerry is able to identify it—mingled fear and dismay. He knows he’s forgetting things, and it’s upsetting him. “I need to get home to my bride. Make sure you phone when you get safely to school, all right?”
“We will. Love you, Dad.” Melanie hugs her father tightly one more time. “Tell Mum we’ll call.”
“Of course.” Uncle Roger kisses her forehead, then turns to Martin and hugs him as well. “Let us know when your first performance is and we’ll come see you.”
“I will, Dad. Love you.” Martin smiles wanly as he hugs him.
They wave as Uncle Roger pulls away. Then Gerry hefts Melanie’s trunk, which is much heavier than the time she took it to Poland, and turns towards the café. “Come on, let’s get out of this rain and have a bite.”
It’s a forgettable little place, the kind that changes names and hands like a small child changes shirts, but it’s also a place that knows its customers. The food they serve is hot, quick, neat, and above all cheap. Gerry buys breakfast for all three of them and takes it over to the table in the corner.
“How much time do you have?” he asks.
Martin checks his watch. “My train leaves in an hour.”
“Hour fifteen for me,” Melanie says. “Could’ve left later, honestly, but I wasn’t going to ask Dad to come out here twice and…”
“No, I get it,” Gerry assures her. “That’s good, though, it’ll give us a bit of time.” He pauses, then adds, not bothering to hide his smirk, “You’re leaving out of St. Pancreas, right?”
Melanie punches him in the arm, not gently. “Shut up. I can’t believe you let me call it that. At least Martin thought I was talking about a different station.”
“I thought it was cute. So, St. Pancras?”
“Yeah.” Melanie sighs. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and Gordon will be my engine.”
“I don’t think you’re going quite that far,” Martin says. “And he pulled the Express, remember? So if you’re not stopping at the exchange, it won’t be him.”
Gerry laughs. “Speaking of…well, not exactly, but I’ve got something for you.”
Melanie blinks. “For me?”
“For both of you. Hold on.” Gerry reaches under his coat for his bag.
He left Austria ahead of his mother, much to her annoyance, because it’s important that he be here for this. Melanie and Martin are both going away to school for the first time, and Gerry wants to be there to send them off. Especially since, for the first time since they were eight years old, they won’t be attending the same school, or even in the same city. Martin is heading up to Edinburgh, where one of the best music programs in the UK outside of London offered him a place, while Melanie heads to Folkestone and the school her mother attended.
He knows they’re both excited. He’s known that since they started telling him about applying. But he also knows they’re a little nervous, and a little melancholy, and he’s hoping to alleviate that a bit.
There are two packages of roughly the same size and shape, but Gerry was smart enough to put different colored bows on them before he labeled them. He presents Melanie hers first, just because it’s on top. “Go on, open it. Something to help you out when you get there.”
Melanie removes the bow and sticks it on the band holding her hair in place, then rips through the paper and lays the gift bare. She stares at it for a moment, then looks up at Gerry, eyes wide and shining. “For me? Really?”
“So you don’t forget the way,” Gerry tells her.
She touches it lightly, then draws back hastily. “It’s not under glass!”
“It’s canvas. It doesn’t need glass. Go on, you can touch it, the paint’s long dry.”
Melanie carefully traces a line, her face creased in concentration. “What’s that dot for?”
Gerry leans over Melanie’s shoulder as Martin does the same on the other side. “The green one there is Martin’s school, more or less. The blue dot is yours. And the copper one on the close-up map of London is me, obviously, not that you’ll forget where I am. But, you know, if I was going to mark important places on it, I reckoned where we were living was important.”
Melanie laughs quietly as she scans the drawing. It’s not exactly a faithful or detailed map; Gerry didn’t put most of the real cities in the United Kingdom on it. It has all the places they’ve gone for Martin’s birthday or hunting books for his mum, the cities where Martin and Melanie will be, and—most crucially—all the fictional places in England that they’ve been able to work out the locations of: Pepperinge Eye, the Island of Sodor, the Gump…it’s not exactly a map of fairyland, more just an alternate England, or several alternate Englands. Places they wish they could really escape to and be free of the Fourteen.
“I love it.” Melanie lays it on the table and gives Gerry a hug. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever.”
Gerry hands Martin his. “And this one’s for you. It’s not the same thing, but I think you’ll need this more.”
Martin is much more methodical about opening his gift, carefully working the tape loose and removing the paper carefully. After a moment, he, too, has exposed a framed picture. He gasps and his eyes fill with tears, but he smiles when he looks up. “Gerry, this is so good. It makes you really want to reach out and take their hands.”
“That was the idea, yeah.”
Melanie looks over Martin’s shoulder. “Do you really think I look like that?” she asks, sounding awed.
Gerry smiles at her. “You do.”
It’s not exactly life-size, but it’ll do well enough, he figures. One of Martin’s deepest, darkest fears is of forgetting faces; he still can’t really remember his grandfather’s, and even if they’re only going to be apart for a few months—this time around, anyway—he’s terrified of forgetting Gerry and Melanie. No matter how much they promise him they know he’ll still love them even if he can’t recall their faces, it still worries him. Add that to the forgetfulness that’s afflicted him since he was Marked by the Spiral, and the only thing Gerry could think of to give him was a picture of them. And he hopes that if Martin knows that Gerry painted it for him, rather than just framing a photograph, he’ll have less trouble believing he’s loved.
Does he really doubt that? The voice in the back of his mind sounds shocked. Doubt you? How can he believe you don’t love him?
Gerry mentally shrugs and tells the voice, His self-esteem isn’t great. It’s not that he doesn’t think I love him, it’s that he doesn’t think he deserves it.
It doesn’t feel like talking to himself, but he can’t quite put his finger on who he is talking to.
“I wish I could do something like this for you,” Martin says softly. “So you don’t forget I love you, too.”
Gerry wonders, for a fleeting second, if Martin is reading his mind, but that’s not the hold the Ceaseless Watcher has on him right now and it would be a cruel thing to do to—well, to anyone, let alone a sixteen-year-old, and especially not to Martin. The last thing Martin needs is to be able to read his mother’s mind and know exactly what she thinks of him.
“Martin,” he says, “I’ve known that for eight years. I’m not likely to forget it any time soon. Cross my heart.”
“I love you, too,” Melanie tells him. She reaches for their hands and squeezes tightly. “Both of you. And, Martin, you write me and let me know when your winter concert is and I’ll try to come too. If nothing else, I’ll see you at the Christmas holidays, right?”
“Of course,” Martin promises. He reaches for Gerry’s hand to close the circle. “Will you come, too?”
“I’ll try,” Gerry assures him. “And like Melanie said, I’ll at least see you over the holidays. I’ll look in on Uncle Roger and Aunt Lily for you, too.”
Melanie frowns. “I wish you could get out of London, too. I know you never went to school like—well, not traditionally, anyway—but maybe you could get into university or something?”
Gerry hesitates, then drops his voice, even though he knows no one is there to overhear. “I’m not going to stay in London. Once you two get through your first term, once we’re sure you’re going to get out, I’m leaving. I’ll come back to visit you two, and then once you go to university, I’ll figure out somewhere to live close to you. Then once you graduate, we can get a house together somewhere Mum and Aunt Lily can’t get at us and start a new life.”
Martin looks hopeful. “Do you really think we can?”
“Of course,” Gerry says stoutly.
“I like that idea.” Melanie grins. “Okay, you’ve got a deal. Once we’re sure escape is possible, we run away together.”
Gerry squeezes their hands and lets go, glancing at the clock on the café’s wall quickly to check how much time they have left. “Oh, it’s possible, all right. It’s more than possible. The three of us together? There’s nothing we can’t do.” He grins. “Including escape our mums once and for all.”
4 notes · View notes
definitelynotshouting · 7 months
Note
OK! ANON HERE WITH THE FIRST ROUND OF ANALYSIS/SCREAMING INTO THE VOID. (I have more quotes but i dont want to overwhelm you and do them all at once)
-☀️
"This fantasy carries him through the rest of the night, past false dawn and into the early onset of staccato birdsong. Grian stares blearily at the bleeding warmth creeping in through the window; gentle golden hands that march over the floorboards and press their palms against the walls. They're less frenetic than the moonlight had been— the shadows here are dappled, innocent things, splaying over stripped bark and playing in the whorls within planks. They breathe depth into this tiny, wooden box, shifting slowly under daylight's cautious curve into the sky, until scintillating rays curl like shackles around his wrists."
- the word choice in this is just so masterful. It's so TENSE, Grian's emotions and thoughts are a complete mess, and this is mirrored even in how you describe the environment. It feels like nothing is safe, which is brilliant, because Grian's currently driving through life on a cord as thin as silk. Its the way even the birdsong is frantic and unsafe "staccato". The "gentle" hands that harden to "march" and "press". Things start out kindly, and then the words become harsh and cold, and this just perfectly reflects how mistrustful Grian is. Nothing makes sense to him; everything is out to get him.
-☀️
"Grian snorts without meaning to, then claps a hand over his mouth, something ugly coagulating in his heart. He doesn't deserve this kind of laughter, this reluctant amusement simmering in his chest. It burns him from the inside out, scorching the back of his throat; hot coals between clenched teeth. Grian inhales embers, exhales ash, and summons every spare ounce of willpower at his disposal to keep his voice from shaking."
- Oh, this. This hurts so much. I can talk about how bird boy's mental state is so poor he's even depraving himself of laughter, and how this is an extension of how he started out starving himself of food, then sleep, now laughter. The fire imagery here is so potent as well. He's burning himself from the inside out, which i feel like is such good imagery for what is actually happening: his code breaking apart. Mans IS literally coming apart from the inside. Ough
-☀️
"It's a pretty effect; it makes Grian's gut plummet all the way down to his lap."
- CRYING CRYING CRYING
- They know each other so well. Grian and Scar learnt each other's tells under the desert sun. He understands how tension and anger and sadness plays on Scar's face and body language when theyre in the games, and in those games everyone's emotions are caused by grian. But now theyre not even in the games and all grian can see is how HIS existence is hurting the people he loves most
-☀️
That's all im going to do for now. Thank you for tearing out my heart and smashing it on the pavement <3
(Also idk if you want me to leave an anon identifier? Maybe i can just stick with the ☀️ if no one else has taken it?)
HEY ANON. WHAT IF I CRIED AND SOBBED AND WEPT!!!!!! HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO !!!!!!!! /POS /POS /POS!!!!!!! LOSING MY MIND RN IM GRINNING FROM EAR TO EAR SO EXCITEDLY THIS JUST MADE MY ENTIRE DAY
hooooly shit i cannot thank you enough this is so kind and wonderful and just!!!!!! listen i LIVE for people analyzing my writing bc i try to put SO MUCH into it, as much as i can possibly cram without oversaturating, and to see people pick up on this stuff is like being handed an immaculately wrapped present every single time. This is truly making my mind go crazy im so fucking happy rn oh my gods, thank you so much this is such an incredible treat
Im not sure if the sun emoji has been taken or not (i think i had another one a long time ago???? but im not sure if you're the same one or not djehdjdjr) but!!! Absolutely feel free to leave an emoji identifier, whatever you want!! :D i rlly enjoy seeing regulars in the inbox so absolutely feel free to do that if ur comfortable!!!!!
15 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Horizon Zero Dawn/Forbidden West: Alvad Doodle Comp
Sooooo *cough* ya I'm back at my Alvad antics cuz I love them sm and they both deserve so much love.
Was playing FW the other day and just like thinking about like the different convos happening in game. Like Aloy seeing how really alone Elizabet was even though there were people around her that loved her, she kept pushing them away. I mean, look at just how loyal Tate was to her, he had multiple opportunities to betray her, but he didn't. He remained loyal. And despite how cold Liz could be, he never stopped believing in her vision, and in her. Aloy sees that she is following a similar pattern by pushing away her friends.
When she sees Zo and Varl together, I saw some people thinking that Aloy was jealous because she wanted Varl, but I moreso interpreted it as she is realizing how much she has become isolated by her own actions and how much she wishes she had that sort of close and deep connection with someone. You can also see it when she is speaking to Talanah about Amadis. Of course she is happy for her friends and such, But it is making her reflect on the mistakes she has made and the repeating pattern that Elizabet started years ago.
She isn't invulnerable, and that's so very evident in her first encounter with the Far Zenith. Up until now, she has been up against people (Shadow Carja) that were on a similar playing field in which Aloy had the advantage.
But now you have these new intelligent beings with technology way beyond her comprehension, and she realizes just how vulnerable she is. She can no longer do this alone.
A quote from Game of Thrones comes to mind actually " The lone wolf may die, but the pack survives". The Nora may have made her an outcast at first, but now she is the one who is making herself an outcast now. But it doesn't need to be. Her friends understand that she is worried about them, but it's their choice to follow her and risk their lives. Why should Aloy be the only one having to make sacrifices? They are equally as worried for her safety. She isn't just a tool to be used and disposed of, which she has been treating herself as such. And I believe Forbidden West really does open up her eyes to this, and truly thinking about "the after" that she has been avoiding thinking about. She is only a young 20 year old woman who does want a normal life for herself, Beta and her friends, and that is an even stronger motivator than she even originally had.
And this is where romance can truly happen. She wasn't in the right mindset before, and had almost closed herself off from any possibility of human connection because she only had that one goal in mind and only put the burden of it all on her shoulders alone. Through this self discovery journey in FW, she really sees how much she wants connection, and one of those connection may end up being Romance.
Sorry about my ramblings hahaha anyways. I really hope that Aloy can have the love she deserves, and if that ends up being Avad, i will be super super happy, because I think they really complement each other like the Sun and Moon @flamehairedsiren 😉 hehe (btw check out her Sun and Moon Alvad fic. I swear I've read it 1000000 times lmfao 😆) Both Avad and Aloy have been through so much deserve good things ;; 💖 (Also *pushes Beta and Erend together* you two kiss too lmfao)
30 notes · View notes
hamliet · 1 year
Note
Hi! By any chance have you read the novels? If so, what is your favourite and what are your thoughts on team CFVY and on Gill and Jax? Thank you!
Hi! I have, recently in fact!
Firstly, I really, really loved Roman Holiday. It's excellently written, quite thematic, the Jungian symbolism is strong, and it fleshes out both Neo's and Roman's characters in compelling ways. They're highly sympathetic, but not heroes in disguise. The story did a great job of balancing their framing in this. And they were just a delight to read--each had their own voice.
Tumblr media
As for the other books, I quite liked Before the Dawn, and After the Fall was okay, but both were more... what I expected? from spin-off light novels as opposed to Roman Holiday, which was again, excellent. I think there is room for another novel, because some of the loose ends of Before the Dawn were not tied up (namely, Gill and Jax, and Lily; plus, some of the characters' arcs weren't completed).
I really liked Sun and Velvet's dynamic in Before the Dawn, and I think I kinda ship them haha. They challenge each other, and unlike everyone else--especially her team, cough cough--when Sun sees Velvet knocked unconscious, he thinks that he doesn't like seeing her looking fragile, that it's not natural to see her look fragile. In other words, he respects her strength.
I also really enjoyed Scarlet's exploration and his romance with Nolan, which works from a thematic and character perspective because getting with the guy who ran and lost his entire team is a good symbol for Scarlet coming to terms with Sun's abandonment, which he starts off the novel very angry about.
Tumblr media
What follows is some criticism, mostly of the two "Vacuo/CFVY" novels. Roman Holiday gets a 5/5 from me.
I do NOT understand why the team infantilizes Velvet so much? Like. Was there an event that sparked this? Is it just because she's a faunus I presume, or her semblance, but like... it still feels a little illogical and like a severe overreaction to me.
But as a whole, Team CFVY is... kind of not well done? I'm not talking about the individual characters here, because I love Velvet and quite liked Yatsu and Fox as well, but instead saying that we are told things about the team that the narrative never shows us any reason to believe, yet clearly frames it as "you should believe this." I actually think it's a weak writing point. For example, we're often told that they are on par with Team RWBY and prodigies, except we are never shown this. We're also constantly told Coco is a good leader, and I have yet to see evidence of this. I see a lot of evidence to the contrary, in fact, and though we're told her failures are rare, we never see her really making good leadership choices.
I actually really dislike Coco's character. She reads like "badass self-insert: the character" and is clearly fan pandering and to a degree that is fine, but I'd argue she just isn't well-written. Her backstory about being trauma from being locked in a closet is very on-the-nose as a metaphor--but homophobia isn't really presented as a problem within RWBY's world. So clearly it reads as something designed to wink at fans, which is not itself a problem. Where the problem lies is that I'm left asking "So what?" So... why does this matter? What does this backstory have to do with Coco's character in any way? What is she afraid of facing? What is she locked in emotionally? Clearly it's not the metaphor about being in the closet, because she's a proud lesbian and as mentioned, homophobia's never really been a thing there thank God, so what's the deal with making that her backstory? Thus far, it has no purpose beyond winking at the audience, and that's just not great or deep writing when compared to everyone else's backstories.
But wait, there's more! If Coco is intended to be a vehicle for fans to project onto them, why is she so rude, cocky, and frankly mean? She's just not a nice person. And why is that somehow framed as cool and even admirable in the book, when it's just... not? She doesn't really get called out on her snobbery in the same way, say, Weiss does. I mean you COULD make a meta reason about the fandom in regards to this but I genuinely do not think it's deliberate. I honestly find Coco insufferable.
Lastly, Jax and Gill.
Tumblr media
I'm a l'il sensitive and grumpy about twin stuff, so good twin/bad twin was always gonna irk me lol. That said, I do think the idea behind it--kind of enmeshed/codependent relationships--was one that could work, but didn't quite get there.
I also really did not like how the characters--particularly the adults--spoke about Jax. I get that Vacuo has unique views on survival and what makes life worth living but... it really was kinda framed like Jax was just a bad seed from the beginning. You could've at least thrown a couple "hm, wonder why he turned out that way" or other such internal comments from our protagonists if you wanted to frame it critically, but... it wasn't framed critically, which makes it good twin/bad twin and provides a rather simplistic answer that I didn't find satisfying.
24 notes · View notes