@avaere asked :
he's tired of it.
tired of having to report to whenever the whispers of a traveler sporting dark attire has wandered into his domain, tired of having to escort her back out again after --- time and time again --- stating that there is nothing of interest at the fortress. tired of her, and the way she puts him in these situations that have the duties of the duke in a chokehold, causing conflict in every gesture and action rising between them in the oddest of ways; the way her hair slid so neatly between his fingers remains in the back of wriothesley's mind, frequenting wandering thoughts on nights where he may admit to find loneliness far too boring of a company.
eden is trouble, for he doesn't know her, not the wriothesley has had it in him to make any advancements in that direction. who and why are questions unanswered, left in nothing but assumptions from the warden's end, all thoughts skeptical in most ways.
she's a stranger to fontaine, a stranger to other nations.
there's no file on her.
" i don't trust you," wriothesley mused, chains rustling as he rid himself of the heavy coat weighing down his shoulders, its heavy fabric meeting with the surface of the desk in his office. " i don't know anything about you; who are you, why are you here, why do you keep insisting on coming back ---"
when he clearly attempts to deny her ( rather , himself ) the pleasure of --- what exactly ? their banter, seeing each other break boundaries and haul out parts of themselves that don't seem to do well in light? wriothesley finds it hard to answer, hard enough that boots echo through his office as steps carry him close to his guest ( clearly, it's a title she has begun to live up with how often he finds her around ). silvery gaze fall down onto hers , examining every feature as if trying to figure her out by here glances.
he doesn't trust her. every bone in his body says so.
( there is something dangerous about her / what is it ? ) when did dangerous stop him ?
so how come there's something in him that wishes to break past that skepticism, to reach out and --- eyes close for a second, chest heaving in a heavy, long sigh.
oh , archons. why. " i don't understand you," and here there's a hand reaching out, sliding up against eden's cheek, that silvery gaze finding its way back onto her golden eyes ( they settle so quickly, sink into hers so willingly, starving for the gaze offered by her ), savoring in the gaze shared between them ( his touch is so soft , yet wary , ready to pull itself away if she proves to be hostile or raise threats to his name ). for only a moment, it might seem as if the duke...
... yearns.
" ... but maybe i'd like to."
unprompted. || always accepting
─「エデン」─ why do you keep coming back ? a question that he had posed to her many times prior to yet another meeting of theirs, much to his displeasure. it was a question that the TRAILBLAZER had neglected to answer every single time he had uttered it. a shrug was what she usually gave him, followed quickly by her being distracted by something else and in turn, diverted even her own attention away from the query. sometimes, she'd humor him by claiming that she simply wanted to challenge herself whether or not she would be able to find another loophole in his security system he took pride in. the FORMIDABLE FORTRESS. or, maybe she simply took it as a personal goal to prove his effort in keeping her out futile.
one would never know with her. no matter what the real reason was, she had found her way into meropide once more, and in his OFFICE this time.
i don't trust you.
it wouldn't be the first time anyone felt that way about her. the words themselves didn't offend nor hurt her. it was simply THE TRUTH, and the trailblazer had long understood that about him. she would be blind to not know that from the way he treated her and the way those icy blue hues landed on her. DOUBT, skepticism, conflict. and to be fair, he had all the reasons not to. that was why she didn't blame him. it was only NATURAL to be wary of things you don't understand.
eden was leaning against the edge, the railing supported her weight as her frame faced his desk, facing him whether he was looking at her or not. it was as though he was trying to make sense of his own emotions, of his own actions up until this point. she could still remember his SCENT and taste when her fangs sank themselves into his skin — that, and the taste of his lips upon hers for that impulsive moment that she wondered if he regretted doing at all.
her eyes didn't take themselves off of him, not even for a second, not even when he had shortened the distance between them, and the moment his hand slid to her cheek, she TILTED HER HEAD UP, meeting his gaze. there was a quiet moment on her part as he spoke. each syllable lingered in the air — the warmth of his hand seeping into her skin and instinctively, she nuzzled towards his hand. it was different from the way she had acted around him. different from how she was so eager to bite him. her eyes closed, and she leaned into his hand.
... for once, wriothesley saw the usually rebellious intruder turning into ... a lost soul. in that moment, it was as though there was no WALLS nor masks between them. it was a raw, unfiltered emotion and vulnerability. she stayed still, allowing his touch to remain before her gaze slowly reopened.
" i don't know who i am ... " the words were uttered barely above a whisper. it sounded like a SECRET even when it wasn't one. her tone wavered for a moment as each syllable hung in the air. other than those upon THE ASTRAL EXPRESS and selected few upon herta space station ( barring the stellaron hunters who were responsible for her awakening, ) no one else knew that fact. if one listened carefully, there was a hint of REGRET lacing the words themselves.
regret ... ?
regret ... that no matter how much she wanted to tell him what he wanted to know, no matter how DESPERATELY she wanted someone to know her, to understand her, it was impossible. how could anyone hoped to know something even she didn't know ? gloved hand slowly came to his, placing over it to press it closer to her cheek.
and her fingers shook unconsciously.
it was the FIRST TIME she had ever looked so unguarded around him. so ... openly vulnerable. to allow someone to see through her, to see a part of her that was resonating with the core deep within. he had witnessed once of her faltering, of her control SLIPPING from the seed of disaster, but it was nothing like this. for once, she was ... genuinely scared. of what, exactly ? of the truth, of consequences, of WHAT she was, what she is, what she could be. when your path was decided for you, what did that make you ? when some strangers you don't remember, the destiny's slaves, probably know more about you than you do yourself. then how are you supposed to feel ?
i wish i could tell you. but i have nothing i could give. nothing i could offer. no past. no memory. nothing. and that's the truth.
i don't know who i was. i don't know who i am. i don't know who i'm supposed to be.
the WHIRRING of the stellaron inside of her made her thin her lips. what could she say ? what else could she tell him ? that she wasn't even HUMAN ? that she was made to become a vessel of something capable of destroying worlds and civilization ? that the burning warmth in her chest was CANCER OF ALL WORLDS ? that he was right to be wary ? she was dangerous. he was right to want to keep her away from here.
hold me. hold me. hold me.
i don't want to hurt anyone.
why do you keep insisting on coming back ---
because ... because —
i want to be seen. not as a hero. not as a perfect vessel. not as the pawn to the script. because you don't know anything about me, maybe ... maybe you could see who i am without all those titles, without all those expectations, without the PAST i don't remember.
her fingers that rested upon his trembled. aureate orbs peered up towards him, gold meeting silver. the look she was giving him, it was one of HEARTBREAK.
" am i a threat to you ? "
i was hoping you'd see me as eden.
even though i don't know who eden is myself.
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so I like the concept of the cookie dough speech. I think, independently, it's a good conclusion for buffy to come to by the end of the series. However, the context... look, it's been pretty thoroughly established throughout the series that buffy and angel will never work. can never work. is it a great romance, does it make me feel for the characters, do i love the angst of it? yes absolutely. but why am I being told, despite being shown the opposite, that there's a chance in hell that buffy will end up with angel? why am I being told continually by the writing across both shows that a codependent teen romance between two people who like... barely know each other is what buffy should aspire to? for the rest of her life?
this insistence is such a detriment to the characters of both buffy and angel. each grew so much on their respective shows. i love both buffy and angel as characters. I love what their relationship means for their past and how it informs their characters moving forward. but god, just leave it there. framing buffy/angel as the truest love that will ever be, automatically eclipsing any other relationship either of them try to have, is honestly not great messaging. personally i will always be affected in some way by my first love, I think that's a normal, relatable experience. But there's no way that love is a viable part of my future, and it wouldn't be healthy for me to think so...
it also takes away from the meaning that people like spike and cordelia might have in their lives because whatever they do, however they grow to love each other, they'll always be 'consolation prize' to... what? buffy's high school relationship with an older guy? no thx
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the truly problematic thing about having insanely vivid dreams just about every night--and i mean the kind of vivid where you remember details days or even weeks later, like it's just another normal-ass memory--is that you wind up losing track on an emotional level of what's real. like. i know that was a dream. obviously it was a dream. but some part of my brain misses it like it really happened. i am painfully, achingly nostalgic for people i've never met, places i've never been, shit that literally could not ever happen--but i feel as though i remember. which is just the most unhinged thing, right? like, i remember going on a run that took me over a fence into Disneyland, and i remember having to take a shortcut through a Chinese restaurant, but it was fine, because Erika Ishii was there, and they'd done this before, so no worries. right? no! obviously not! why do i remember this with such visceral clarity three weeks later?
oh, what's your favorite episode of this TV show? the one i dreamt. yeah, don't worry about it, it didn't make coherent sense, but it was in the feelings, right? my ship had the best fucking scene. no, of course i can't explain it to you, that's madness. it involved a rocking chair. don't worry about it. it's fine. it's super important i don't accidentally reference this in a fic someday, though.
this shit is deranged, dude. missing people who are quite literally my own brain's invention with an actor's face. missing places that are a meld of a movie i saw once, my childhood bedroom, the second floor of my high school, and inter-dimensional space. like. no! no, this shouldn't be a thing! is, though. the clarity of it. just fucking bananas. this has been happening to me my whole goddamn life.
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