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putflowersinmyhair-callmepretty · 3 years

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The fate of a nun (Finan x OFC); part 5

GENERAL A/N: Hi there! This story is my first attempt to write a fanfiction. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know how to improve my writing/language skills 😊 I will try and post a chapter per week, let’s see how it goes! The story takes place in season 3 and you will notice that I have used some of the sequences and dialogues from the tv series, changing them to include my OC. I did try not to be too colloquial and informal with my writing -giving the time of the story- but I preferred to make it more enjoyable than realistic, same goes for Finan’s accent. I’m nervous and excited to share my work, hope you enjoy! Bacini, Cate. A/N: Helu! So, this is super late butttttt I’ve been soooo busy with my classes and the translation I’m working on :) This is a filler part, but I find it extremely cute, plus Finan and Aoife are getting closer, my children :’) Have fun reading this. byeeee Summary: The life of the young novice Aoife completely changes when the Lady of Mercia arrives to the Abbey of Wincelcumb. Oaths, battles and love will turn her in a warrior. General warnings: Violence, Blood, Strong Language, Smut, Fluff, Graphic description of violence Chapter’s warning: Fluff fluff fluff, probably bad English? idk Words: 3410 Chapter Four.

Chapter Five: Stories and Returns

At some point she had passed out; it must have been just minutes because, when she woke up, her face was still wet of tears, and her hair too. She stood up and just yet noticed that she was starving. In the hall, the warriors and the Lady were already eating, and she slid next to Osferth, who shot her a smile and pushed a plate full of bread and cheese in her direction. “How are you feeling?” she asked, and he playfully rolled his eyes. “I’m doing well mum, stop worrying!” He was healing just fine, he could already walk on himself and laugh without pain, but he still had to be careful, wound like his took some time to heal. “Are you all right, Aoife?” Aethelflaed, who had followed their playful banter, asked cautiously. The Lady was sitting right in front of her and she could see how swollen and red Aoife’s eyes were. Anyone could, especially Finan, who was sitting next to Aethelflaed and in front of Osferth. “I’m fine, thank you my Lady. I’m just tired” No one seemed to believe her. Finan leant forward and filled her cup with ale. “Eat and drink. Then we go for a walk.” And so she ate abundantly and slowly, careful not to let anyone see how nervous and trepidant she was to spend some time alone with Finan. What did he want? Had she done something? Had he done something? He stared at her the entire supper with a questioning look, and it did not help the uncomfortable feeling of excitement and fear that was stirring her soul. When she chewed down the last bite, he stood up and, with a little bow to the Lady, left the hall. Aoife shot a questioning look to her friends, who just shrugged with an amazed smile on their faces; Aethelflaed gestured her to follow the warrior and she obeyed swiftly, her heart beating violently against her ribcage. Finan was waiting for her just outside the wooden door and, when the girl reached him, smiled sweetly. For a while, they walked down the streets of Saltwic in silence. It was a nice winter night without wind nor cloud and Aoife enjoyed the cold air on her cheeks and how bright the stars looked. The town was still alive, the torches still burning in the alehouse and the voices loud. People would pass them and bow respectfully, and Aoife would smile to each of them and greet them with a soft “G’night.”; it warmed Finan’s heart. They stopped right next to the town well, facing each other. The stars were reflected in her eyes, the blackest eyes Finan had ever seen. He was used to the clear eyes of Uthred and Sithric and Osferth, that painfully reminded him of his mother’s eyes, but he had never seen such dark eyes, so deep and welcoming. He had to restrain himself from running his thumb over her lashes, which looked as soft as they were long and thick. Aoife was looking back at him, bolder that she would have days before. He hadn’t even noticed that he was chewing on the cross hanging around his neck, something that Aoife had seen him doing before, when he was lost in his thoughts. She found it precious, somehow vulnerable, a very childlike action, so at odds with his mature stance. And he had pretty hands too, with long thin fingers, different from the stubby hands of the Mercians. She was curious to learn where he came from, where his family lived. Had he always been a swordsman? He had the delicate hands of a musician, corrupted by the scars and dirty of his warrior life. There was a specific reason to why he had asked her to walk with him, but now that she was watching him in such a direct, open way, like no one else had ever done before, he could not find the right words to address it. “I never thanked you” he finally croaked, his voice just above a whisper. And she smiled , calmly yet questioning, still watching him boldly. “What for?” “For saving my life” “You don’t have to.” She assured him “It was the right thing to do.” He took her hand in his, succumbing to his own desires. Her skin was not as soft as he remembered, chapped and irritated by the wind and callous were the hilt of the sword would press during her training; on the opposite, her touch was delicate and prudent. He grazed his thumb on her knuckles and smiled, looking at her through his lashes. “Still, you acted like a true warrior and if I’m here today is just because of you. I shall never forget it, Aoife.” Under the dim light of the torches, she blushed and her bottom lip drop slightly, but she didn’t reply. “Also…” he kept going “I apologise if I’ve been too hard on you today.” “What made you think that?” He shrugged “I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but you look…” he looked her head to toe “distressed.” She averted her gaze, eyes filling with tears. He was pitying her, then. She was too embarrassed to watch him, now, she didn’t have problems with being emotional, but she did not like compassion. “It’s not you, Finan.” She mumbled, her voice shaking “It’s just…” she couldn’t find the words to explain how she was feeling, torn between excitement and guilty, happiness and grieving. She gasped for air and tried to wipe the tears from her face, trying to push herself away from the warrior. But he did not let her step back, fearing that if she left, she would never be so confidently herself with him. He reached her and embraced her without hesitation and, despite her surprise, her body reacted naturally and she hid her face in the crook of his neck. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she noticed that he smelled of leather and metal, the scent she expected from a warrior, and just behind it she could detect the natural fragrance of his skin, and she loved how intimate that new experience was. The warmth of his body was comforting and welcoming and she couldn’t understand if it was her heart of his beating fast against her skin. He held her tightly, her fingers dipping in his back, and he was not sure where to put his hands, afraid to cross any line, but she smelled so good and her body was so warm that he could not help but melt against her and run his fingers through her hair until her tears stopped. They were ready to let go. The night had fallen long before Osferth decided to retire to his room in the alehouse. He walked slowly, in the cold air of winter. He was enjoying every second of his stay in Saltwic, knowing well how rare moments of peace were for a warrior. His wound was itching, and he picked up his pace, dreaming of his warm bed and the ointment Aoife had prepare precisely for when the healing wound would become too uncomfortable. She was an amazing healer, and he had wondered many times if he would be alive without her help. The well was fairly close, which meant that in less than a minute he would be at the alehouse. And right in front of the well, he witnessed the blossom of a love. Aoife and Finan embraced in the dark. Since that night, Finan had spent most of his time with Aoife. Honestly, he hadn’t had much to do, while she seemed to be always busy; so, he had followed her around for days, helping and amusing her. He had noticed that she was growing bolder every day, quick to answer his remarks. She still blushed, though, and he was proud of how much his words and actions could affect her. He had found himself spending with her every day and thinking about her every night; he knew he was slowly falling in love with the woman and he was trying to fight it. She was young, innocent and inexpert of everything that the world had to offer; she deserved someone just as fresh as her. Even with this knowledge, he could not stop himself from spending all his spare time with her, from thinking about her constantly, from looking for her in every room. Besides, when he tried to stay away from her, she would find him everywhere, with a little pout on her full red lips. “Were you hiding from me, Finan?” she would ask, mocking pain with a hand on her chest and he would smile and bow dramatically in her direction “I was not, milady. I was looking for you.” To assay her, Finan started telling her the most vile stories of his past; he talked about blood and swindles and heartbreaks; and one day, while he was sitting on the fence of the stable and telling her one of his cruellest stories, she ceased grooming her horse and, with a sharp smile, commented “I know what you’re doing, Finan.” “What am I doing, then?” “You’re trying to scare me away. But you’re actually doing the opposite.” she run her hand up and down her mount’s face “Because I know you now, and I know you’re not the man you’re telling me about. Not anymore, at least. I think every one of those stories made you the man you are today, a much better person than you think. I’m no fool, and surely, I’m not as innocent as you think I am. If I’d had the faintest impression that you were not a good person, I would not be here now.” “Are you making a pass at me, dear?” She looked back at him with a gaze so deep he felt naked and, unexpectedly, something that hadn’t done since he was a child happened: he blushed. It infuriated him how much power she had on him, how his body melted right against hers when she snuck between his knees and pressed her hands against his tights. He lowered his face to meet her eyes and she stood on her tiptoes. Was she about to kiss him? Did he want her to? Of course he wanted to kiss her, but was he ready for the consequences? He was aware of how his heart worked, how hardly and quickly he fell in and out of love with a woman; he did not want to hurt her in that way. Yet again, his worrying alone was an indicator of how different what he felt for her was from his previous women; he had never worried for the consequences of his actions before, but here he was now hesitating to kiss the prettiest woman watching him from under her black eyelashes. And he hesitated a moment too long, because when he finally leant towards her, she shot him a feral smile and pushed him down the fence. The last thing Finan heard, before the splashing of his body on horse shit, was Aoife’s crystal laugh. And he was happy. Winter was giving the way to spring slowly but relentlessly, the sun now a little warmer and the days a little longer. That afternoon Finan had joined Aoife at the stream and little white flowers were already sprouting from the snow along the banks, where the temperature was higher, and the first birds were chirping on the branches moved by a delicate wind. All day long, Aoife had been busy with Aethelflaed, Finan had seen them walked down the streets of Saltwic, arm in arm. Now, finally, they were together and he was watching her washing clothes. He didn’t understand how she could dip her hands in the cold water without freezing, but she had assured him that the shock was only temporary and after that, it was almost as if the water was warm. “Tell me something, Finan.” She then requested, while he was adjusting a strand of hair behind her ear. With time they had become physically very closed, always touching each other in some way. “About what?” She stopped to look him in the eyes “I don’t know, something… how did you and Uthred met?” That was a story that many knew, but he still did not feel comfortable in telling it. Yet, Aoife was the one person who made him feel safe, calm, unjudged. If there was someone that could cast away the ghosts of his past, that would be her. He dipped the tip of his finger in the cold water, rippling the surface. “I have done things I am not proud of, Aoife. And some of them had led me to slavery. I have spent winters and summers at the bottom of a ship, rowing and rowing, with the sun and the wind and the snow. I reached a point where I could barely remember who I was, where I came from, why I was there. Then one day Uthred came. He was dressed as a slave, and was rowing as a slave, but there was something behind his eyes that told a whole other story. And somehow, in that hell, we bounded. And when his brother came to the rescue, he did not abandon me, he gave me a reason to live. He still do every day, and I owe him my life. He not only saved me from that ship, but he also brought me back to the man I was, and he gave me a chance to be someone better than that man. And we are bound in ways that no one could ever understand; we have suffered and seen things that no one else could ever understand. That’s why my sword is his, until the day I die. I would give my life for him, my soul for him. He is my brother. My family.” Aoife was holding his hands, he hadn’t even noticed, up until that moment, that she had stopped washing and had knelt in front of him. She caressed his face gently, brushing her cold fingertips against his scars. She had many questions, about his past, his regrets, his fears. She felt as if she knew nothing of him while knowing him deeper than many could say. He was a mystery, with a very dark past, yet he was the person she trusted the most. “Thank you for sharing your story with me, Finan” she whispered softly, and he smiled, leaning in her cold palm and kissing it softly “Thank you for listening, Aoife.” She smiled, returning at her duties. “Your name is Irish too, did you know that?” Finan watched her stiffen, suddenly uncomfortable “I do know that , yes.” Here it was, the thing he couldn’t bear about her: it was easy for him to open with her, he had trusted her entirely in a short period of time, while her, as much as she seemed to enjoy his company, had yet to trust him with her past; and perhaps it was wrong, but he wanted answers to his curiosity, about her family, and the mysterious man who had gifted her with weapons and a horse, and her past; so he kept pushing her. “Was your mother Irish?” She paused “No, Finan.” He was walking down a dangerous path “What’s with that name then?” She looked up at him, with a pained and somehow angry face “You won’t rest until I’ll give you answers, right?” “Indeed, lady.” She sat down with a huff “My mom was in love with an Irish man and wanted to honour him with my name.” “Was he your father?” “Not quite.” Here she was again, reticent woman. Finan had even talked about it with Osferth, with whom Aoife seemed to have bounded and she felt freer talking – Finan at times could not stand how close they were – but the monk too had admitted that he had tried but failed in that same situation. Even Aethelflaed knew nothing, and where a Lady can’t succeed, what are the chances for a warrior to? Therefore, he took what she had offered him, which was a lot considering the previous attempts, and held her hand to his lips, kissing her cold knuckles. “Let’s go back, you’re freezing.” They had walked back in silence, hand in hand. The sun was setting one they entered the hall, where the warriors were enjoying some spare time playing dice and drinking ale. Finan left Aoife with one of his sweetest smiles and joined his companions, while she sat down next to Osferth, who was warming up in front of the fire. “You’re getting closer by the day, aren’t you? By Sunday you’ll be married.” The monk joked, gaining a light kick on the shin; the training had helped her quite a lot with her fighting skills, but, as a result, she had become more violent.“Hey, you should not hit your patients!”“I brought you back to life, I can end it just as easily.” Osferth laughed, wrapping her shoulder with his long, thin arm. He had found himself growing less shy every day and he had now reached a point of ease with Aoife that he had become physical affectionate, a part of him he had hidden successfully during his monk life. Growing up in a monastery, he hadn’t spent much time with people his age, and even now, travelling with Uthred’s warrior, he felt that there was a certain aspect of him that they could not understand. Aoife, on the other hand, had experienced a similar youth and with her he could be himself. By the day, she was becoming more and more a warrior, as was he, but they would always remain children of the church and the type of education they had been raised through was different – if not opposite – to those of the others and for that reason they were bounded as siblings. Finan watched them for long, curious – and somehow jealous – of why they were laughing. He had noticed that everyone adored Aoife, she had the singular power of making people at ease. As far as he knew her, and it wasn’t much, she seemed without flaws. However, based on his experience, he knew it could not be possible and he feared the day he would discover her darkest side. For now, though, he decided to join them and hope that their contagious laughs would heal his restless soul. Enjoying some peace after years of battles and death was a gift, he was aware of it, but he would never stop being a warrior and he missed the clanking of swords and the stench of blood, sweat and fear. He missed the shivers of excitement running down his spine on the battlefield, and the surreal, still silence that followed a bloodshed. Yet, he was torn between the past he knew, living day by day without the certainty of a tomorrow, and this new routine of enjoy sweet talks and long walks with Aoife. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that he did not care for the fresh air, nor for the starry night, he just cared for the lady standing next to him under that dark sky. For now, however, he did not have to choose, and he grabbed three cups and joined his friends. “Why are we laughing?” he asked, dropping heavily next to Aoife, who shot him a bright smile. “Just threating Osferth, here.” she answered cheerfully, accepting the ale he was offering. “Oh, I do like this game.” “No you do not!” Osferth huffed, sipping his ale “Just let me be, I’m still recovering.” Finan had a sharp reply on the tip of his tongue but he was interrupted by hooves drumming outside; with the heart beating in his throat he jumped up, running to the window. “What is it?” Osferth asked. “You mean, who is it” Finan smiled, looking outside “Osferth.” He then called urgently, in his tone a happiness and thrill Aoife had never heard. He was not quick enough to reach the door and it opened from the outside, bringing in the room cold wind and smell of horses. And then here he was, wrapped in furs and covered in snow, his sword standing proudly against his back, the widest, proudest smile on his gorgeous face. Uthred of Bebbanburg was back. Chapter Six.

#fanfiction #finan #finan the agile #tlk finan #fanfic #finan x oc #tlk #The Last Kingdom #osferth #Aethelflaed #uthred #sithric #writing

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cviperfan · 4 years

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Okay so partially motivated by how many references there were in SPoP and largely bc it's been in my backlog for years and I remembered the whole thing got uploaded to youtube a while ago, I finally got around to watching Revolutionary Girl Utena for the first time so time for some hot takes

2 clarify I did see the movie about around 2000 which was my introduction to the series, and I did see like 1 episode back in anime club (over a decade ago now tbh) but for the most part I went into this with only a vague sense of the ending and offhand knowledge of a few of the weird comedy episodes so this was mostly a blind watch

Before getting into #spoilers I will say that this ended up being an easy Top 5 and that it's definitely still worth watching (fair warning for the very frequent rape and incest (and sometimes both)), especially if you've somehow also avoided most of the context of this show like me, and it really is one of the rare Nothing Else Like It kind of show (though it has roots in older shoujo like Rose of Versailles and modern stuff like Revue Starlight have picked up its lede)

Okay spoilers from here on

I really only kinda have vague memories of the more knightly take on Utena from the movie so Series!Utena having this powerful Dumb Jock Energy threw me

Like she's out here invoking the Air Bud Rule from minute one

This bit where Akio is going on about some Important Life Lesson thing and she's just fuckin

crab walking im

what a hero i love her

I have always kinda been more partial to shoujo than shounen bc the sense of like emotional urgency and the heightened exaggerated feelings are just more compelling to me narratively and what Utena does spectacularly is really drive that to fucking 11 and it permeates every aspect of the show

Like the melodrama of it all is so shameless and it's so committed to letting its visuals and music drive the mood and emotional intensity of its stakes that they kind of speak for themselves and demand to be taken on their own terms rather than having clear or rigid interpretations

Like it's kind of a situation of "yes most of what you're seeing ties into the show's bigger themes and characterization but also you can just vibe to the spectacle as well" like even when it's not on the Dueling Arena there's a theatricality underlying everything that pairs perfectly with the spirit of shoujo even as it... not necessarily contradicts it, but challenges it in some ways and also wants to coexist with it?

And I think that's the interesting thing how it wants to tackle some of these arch concepts tied into the genre while also being deeply intertwined with it. Like it really is a Product Of Its Time in so many ways but it also feels somehow timeless and transgressive in others even now?

Like part of me would be interested to see a remake that took into account 23 years of conversation about how much perceptions of gender and sexuality have changed but at the same time would it lose some essential part of itself in that transition? idk potentially

Also lbr a hypothetical remake wouldn't even attempt to revise anything it would just redo it thus making it pointless

So I know this has been a thing that's been brought up before but seeing it play out dang RGU and NGE really are just companion pieces to each other huh

Subverting the themes and narrative arcs of their respective genres, mysterious quiet girl who's directly the key to everything, the ritual of action setpieces rendered as Actual Ritual in the story, banger OP, comphet ruining everyone's lives

Also they really don't have much in common comparatively but I'm definitely seeing pieces of Utena in Kill la Kill too? Particularly how Mako's arc feels like a fleshing out and expansion from the archetype divergence Wakaba got in that one ep (I can't believe klk was the utena/wakaba au fanfic)

Speaking of which damn he is a sleazy bastard and a gross predator but ngl Akio can Get It he and Ragyo are basically the same character and I guess this is just my type apparently???? oops

Like I'm recognizing how like really awful he is but also you really can't blame Utena for crushing on him he is super hot and charming

aside i lost it at the audacity of "well even tho i am a man like twice your age (AT LEAST) and took advantage of the situation and also i am clearly not the type to take no for an answer since you didn't reject me you're basically just as bad as me" bruh

The Black Rose Arc is... interesting bc like it borders on superfluous with how it resolves and yet the introduction of a "monster of the week" type power rangers element specifically built to expand on the secondary cast is a pretty inspired choice

again my primary point of introduction to the series was the movie which is basically a remix of the Student Council arc so when I got to 12 I was like wth are they gonna fill the rest of this with? WELP

What I really like about it is that usually this kind of setup-- the 'character is faced with their dark inner thoughts they shy away from and they become a short-term enemy' deal-- ends with the char in question coming to terms with this and overcoming it to become a better person

but here it's just like... they lose and then they just gotta... sit with that, forever. Like it doesn't really change the status quo of their relationships w/ utena or the others but it does just stick around for them and now the audience knows that about them too. like sometimes you just can't take that shit back.

Utena's relationship to queerness, having heard about it tangentially for years but seeing it play out now is also interesting bc while in the grand scheme it doesn't feel necessarily any more ahead of its time than something like Cardcaptor Sakura there is a casualness to it that's distinct

Like for the most part it's either kind of the tangential fluff that even then was part of shoujo as a standard but then there's also stuff like the Akio/Touga or Touga/Saionji hinting or Kozue's casual pass at Anthy in addition to the maintext Juri/Shiori push-pull and ofc the subtext-but-maintext Utena/Anthy threads

I wanna take a moment to talk about Juri bc of how kind of in the spirit of the show itself it plays things both with and against the grain with her

Like she's a Tragic Lesbian which is nothing new but usually this character type (and Distinctively Lesbian characters in general) in anime/manga tend to be portrayed as being very predatory, invasive and either played for laughs or to repulse the audience, so the degree of empathy RGU shows her in 97 is rare to see even now.

Like there is a "safeness" to her bc of how unattainable Shiori is (though their arc ends in a decidedly ambiguious way), but it doesn't really feel like she's getting the short end of the stick over the more straight-leaning characters bc arguably all of the relationships here are defined by an aspect of chasing the unattainable, echoing Utena's own quixotic search for her Prince, and her choosing to remain closeted feels realistic *especially because* of the surrounding context of how heteronormative the world she exists in is. Like the character is aware of that and is navigating it in a way that feels honest

Speaking of which it's interesting how the reveal of Juri's pining for Shiori in Ep 7 echoes the bigger reveal of Utena/Anthy bc of how it plays up this heterocentric love triangle or at least it seems to be but then the cards are on the table and no that's really not what it is at all, and it feels significant that after spending most of the series naively oblivious to Juri’s feelings and what she wants out of a relationship with Shiori that Utena finally Gets It in Ep 37

Is it a coincidence Juri actually gets to be the one to point it out? No

Speaking of triangles big ups to the Ruka/Juri/Shiori one honestly bc of how hard it commits to the unknown third result of a LT where absolutely no one comes out happy and it actually works even with the handicap of Ruka basically coming out of nowhere just for these two episodes

Like all three of them want the one person who's absolutely never gonna love them back and that's just rough buddy and isn't that kinda the show in a nutshell

So the thing that struck me about Utena/Anthy and how it plays out is how subtle it really is. And that does make sense bc while f/f teasing/subtext again was part of shoujo before it's quite a different thing for the heroine to ultimately reject her 2 male love interests and choose a life with her female best friend, esp in nineteen ninety seven

Like I think you can argue that Ep 12 feels like The Moment where What Their Relationship Is, Definitely shifts and that possibility is suddenly there, and then it doesn't come back in a big way until the ending but there are tiny glimpses throughout where you can see that working in the background if you’re really paying attention

Small things like Anthy's flashes of unspoken jealousy, Utena fretting over her even when she's in bed with Akio, and part of that is coming from going in with a knowledge of what the endgame is and keeping an eye out for it. I can hardly imagine being a viewer during the og broadcast and then ep 34 comes and suddenly the intent is made clear and our understanding of the inciting incident gets all flipped turned upside down

And to a modern viewer I can get coming into this for the first time and being frustrated at just how close to the chest it gets played, but that's also kind of the only way it gets to happen at that point in time? But I think it ultimately is effective and vital to their individual arcs and dovetails nicely with the themes of the show

Like I remember hearing that original manga creator Chiho Saito was pretty against their paired ending, but with a lot of convincing from Ikuhara ultimately came around to it, and it's hard to imagine the anime's ending working any other way and being nearly as impactful

And there is something really beautiful about the bucking against the established idea of yuri relationships being a childish concept that gets left behind in order to 'grow up' actually becoming the impetus of their own journeys into adulthood and eventually back to each other, and it’s hard not to feel a little disappointed that for this Bold Step and declaration for the future that RGU takes that while yuri is more common than ever it largely continues to exist within the realm of schoolgirls and something to be left behind in adolescence like for RGU’s faults and shortcomings it saw this world of possibility in moving forward, while the genre largely elected to stand still

And it really speaks to either the timelessness of the show or how much the queer experience has remained constant that even with a tragic ending, that hope, or rather the promise of their reunion, feels bold and defiant and genuinely uplifting even now

Like the moment where just before they reach out to each other one final time, and their voices as children speak out to each other, as if finally fulfilling a promise they barely remember, I really did just start ugly crying

Lastly some assorted closing thoughts--

-Touga? Punk. Guy really takes advantage of Utena's whole prince thing to manipulate her, ends up losing to her in the rematch and then fucks off to mope for like AN ENTIRE SEASON then pops back up "oh yea im in love with her literally nothing else about my behavior has changed tho" like lmao you tried i guess

-Also i know Touga's design is p stock standard bishounen ojou-sama type but god this is all i can think about when I see him

- Green Touga Saionji is a bitch-ass motherfucker but like he at least tried more than anyone else so uh that's something I guess?????

Like the guy clearly has some unresolved feelings about Touga so i'm inclined to be sympathetic bc wow poor choice my dude but also... bitch-ass motherfucker

-Nanami really went through this thing for me where it's like... she's a brat and a shitty person but it's also hard to really dislike her bc she does get what she deserves most of the time and also she gets kinkshamed more than most of the cast despite none of them really having a high ground over her lol

-Miki did nothing wrong (aside from like the implied incest but that's also like... half the relationships in this show uh)

sidenote I can completely see the notable excess of Incest Subtext/Maintext being intended as like... A Thing to comment on how common it is within shoujo and also tying in to like the bigger themes of Growing Up bc the idea that you’re chasing after your own damn siblings betrays some freudian inability to mature or whatever but tbqh it doesn’t always feel like the show knows the line between commenting on this and indulging in it and RGU is very indulgent by its own nature so I really can’t blame people put off by the show as a whole bc this is an area where RGU is largely indistinguishable from its genre peers

-Juri really did nothing wrong tho also props for having the best duels

-FUCK SHIORI THO for eel

so obviously i have not seen the show up to now but I've been in yuri circles for a long time so I knew about Juri/Shiori and my perception of it had always been "oh it's one of those kinda messy with complicated feelings" kinda ships where the drama is a big part of the appeal and that's true but like

the actual nature of it I did not realize up to now and OH SHIORI'S REALLY THAT BITCH HUH

So not only does she date that one anonymous guy specifically to spite Juri unaware she doesn't actually like him BUT THEN WHEN THEY GET REUNITED SHE'S JUST LIKE LOL IT DIDNT MATTER BUT HEY WE COOL RIGHT *AND THEN* when she finds out about Juri's feelings she's like HELL YEA I CAN HANG THIS OVER HER HEAD FOREVER FUCK HER

***AND THEN*** when she gets some karma after Ruka dumps her ass she airs her dirty laundry out in front of EVERYBODY like Juri hasn't been dealing with this shit like an absolute champ the whole time like?????

Like ok i get that there's the sad longing drama there and usually that's my jam and the show itself seems to end on kind of an ambiguous note and the follow-up manga from this year seems to leave it as kind of a "maybe" but I'm sorry get Juri a better GF 2020 she deserves better

I saw some Juri/Wakaba going through the tumblr tag for the show and honestly that's some big brain shit I'm here for it

Also now knowing exactly how this dynamic operates it really makes that Jasper/Lapis reference pic one of the SU crew drew of them read very.... interestingly???????? (tho Lapis' design reads a lot closer to Kozue and that's probably a closer personality analogue too)

-I love that thing in ep 37 where the whole SC is just very casually like hey utena if the whole revolutionizing the world thing with anthy doesn't work out uhhh call me im free haha just kidding unless...? lmao

-I'm pretty uninclined to try to pin precise sexuality HCs to characters for series this old where the ambiguity is part of how its danced around like partly coming from my own experience I'm inclined to read Utena as bi but that really is just coming from me?

But on the other hand literally every time a guy is like "i love you utena come be happy with me and we can love each other forever" she's like "k" after having left them on read for a day and disconnects from them entirely so lesbian going through comphet is a pretty valid read i think lol

-Lastly I think it’s pretty interesting but validly frustrating how fast and loose the show’s relationship with dream logic and non-traditional storytelling really is like when the shadow girls show up I was like “oh this is a greek chorus thing and it’s meant to reflect on the themes of the episode” (or uh in the case of exactly Ep 29 to break from tradition and explicitly tell us what a characters deal is lmao) but then no actually turns out they’re actually real characters who exist within the show too fuck you

ANYWAY I really did love this show and felt like I got a lot out of it despite it being pretty infamously hard to decipher but the ways it's inscrutable appeal to me specifically so very happy with this I'm gonna be thinking about it for a while

#revolutionary girl utena #cw: rape mention #cw: incest mention #might follow up with some thoughts about the movie later

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city-of-angel · 4 years

Text

Dear Self,

H+1 [sry for being late]

Yeah! Hmm, where do I start? Let’s talk about you!

Congratulations on your reborn! There are 3 important sections that we probably should talk about last year.

Section 1:

GRACE

Yes, we talked about grace, you mentioned it in the last year’s ‘letter to myself’ that you want to find your grace. You want to be remembered as you, the real you, not the girl who’s been lost. Oh my god, that sounds desperate. Yeah, you sound like a desperate person last year, which is true. Just because you lost your purpose and benchmark of what ideal life is. But month by month, nature spoke to you back. And that feels damn good, when you let go of the negative thought! And yeah, you did go to a therapist once, because you can’t hold the pressure. You loved your job so much, your friends too much, you want to continue to run but you don’t have any energy left. Kinda feel like that! And THANK YOU mostly for my Crewmate for trusting me! HOWEVER, 2020 shocked me more than once. God tested you to give a reaction to an uncomfortable situation. And it kinda personal so you would not share it in detail. But..mmm, in short, you have all the choice and opportunity to drag someone to hell but you prefer not. Because., you already have your grace. Even, you help them up, build their mental health back, cheer them up, listen to them, and give a very honest + positive suggestion and motivation. And you do that for yourself, not for anyone. Because you are you, the real you. Which is good. I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!! REALLY!

Post Credits:

You have found yourself wiser than ever. You are a happy person and you have found your peace without dropping your crown. You are always the Queen, the Princess, and the Silly Girl.

Reminder:

Always be brave to speak up about your opinion. To share your POV. To be kind without judgment. To be free from world misery by sharing your wisdom and kind words and action. You are not what people did you. You are you.

Section 2:

VISION

This is gold. Dream. Idea. Destination.Vision. You of all the people in the world who has sooooo many beautiful dreams. There are so many that you want to do. You can feel it like ‘This is your time’. Someone told you that you refer to ‘Death’ Card of Tarot Major Arcana. Why death, you said? ISN’T THAT BAD! To create or manifest something new and pure, you have to die first. Then you reborn as a new person -pure, with a new lifestyle and healthier thought, and a clear head. You feel like it might be the year when your head is so clear like really crystal clear. I mean it was not about improvement. But it was a new thing. You do a lot of yoga last year which makes you improve your inner balance. On your daily exercise, you keep focusing on your destination and you start making day by day plan to reach that destination. To make that vision become the real purpose, not only imaginary. They said if you want to have something. Make it specific, think about it, feel it, plan about it, do progress about it. And every single time you thinking deeply about it, your subconscious will be trying to find the way for you. It will find the answer you are looking for. Do you remember that night? When you were crying because you were so tired of working? But you know you enjoyed and it was kinda slight burnout thing that night but you told yourself that: IN THE END, you will smile and laugh about it. This is only a night. Keep going on. And yeah it was a magical moment when something on your head become something that everyone can see and appreciate, it was from every drop of sweat and sugary drink that keep you up for thinking. I think what the wise man said was true: Opportunity is not luck. Luck is not an opportunity. Luck is when opportunity meets your readiness. So don’t wait for that opportunity to get yourself ready. Be ready first and it will come to you. Manifesting.

Post Credits:

You made people invest in your thought, which is so illuminated on some point. Thank you sugary drink! You invest your calories to our benefit! Ha!

Reminder:

Don’t get too oversoaked about it. This is a new beginning. You will be tired, out of an idea, and out of place. Take a nap, a day rest, watch something, talk to someone. REST. This is a new path for you that might be a way to open a greater path, so don’t act off guard!

Section 3:

TRUTH

You always want to feel something. You always want to feel. You always try to find a way to feel something. A good ending. A smooth process. A fairy tale. A good one. But in the truth, there’s always an obstacle. There’s always something’s wrong. You asked yourself “ What did I do? Why I deserved this”, The answer is not about what you did, but how?. The happy ending is intriguing stupid BUT what on criteria you will claim something like a happy ending?. You need to always set your optimism high, you need to dream high because it will triggers your move. When you want to go to the moon, you will build a rocket. When you want to go to the next city, you will build a car. That’s pretty simple. Your action is based on how much you invest and commit to your destination. BUT why the happy ending is stupid? BECAUSE sometimes we never admit or we NEVER REALLY CALCULATE that the worst obstacle will be there, the storm will be there, the burglar will be there. And the most important thing is ABOUT HOW YOU’RE GONNA DO ABOUT IT! Yes, ofc you have to be realistic and accept that probably shit will happen, there’s always a probability. Sometimes, you lower your standard just because you are too insecure and you are just afraid, you have no plan! You think like “Ahh whatever just see what happens later” NO! This year you realize that is a pretty wrong way. Lemme tell you something! THE TRUTH is that a happy ending is not a destination. The happy ending is enjoying the process, hustling your best, preparing for the worst, and be responsible for your choice. That is a happy ending, dear. Life without regret until the very end.

Post Credits:

It was amazing seeing you grew. You are the bravest person, the greatest person. One day you will see these words back. Maybe one year later or more if you’re not forgetiing this. And you will smile because you know you are your own choice.

Reminder:

You have all the choice in the world. No one gonna picks it for you. You have all the right, all the time in this world to live the life you choose. Remember that.

BONUS SECTION:

GRATITUDE

Thank God, for letting me live in your cosmos.

Thanks for my family, to be there for me, even sometimes I’m easily stressing out at home and being sassy to you all. I am so sorry and grateful at the same time.

Thanks to Crewmate, amazing team, amazing experience. Thanks for letting me grow with you.

Thanks to My Friends across the world, thanks for sharing your time and let me see your glow and your flaw. Thanks for being my reflection

Thanks to Project Team, trusting me is a gamble right? But here we go, this is our new beginning

last but very not least,

Thanks to my muse, for making me realize that I always can be happy, sad, laugh, cry, drag down, reborn, glowing, loving, loved, resent, broken...almost. Everything. I can go thru it without you. But why am I always searching for something? In my room, in a public place, at 3 AM, every buffer and in missing beat on the song. Why am I always searching for something? Because hope is evil and sweet. Maybe we are poetry to each other in our encounter. And the purpose of your existence is still a mystery to me. Thank you. You are the music to my ear, always be a closure to my poem.

TO ANOTHER GREAT YEAR AHEAD.

THANK YOU, SELF.

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jojoreadwhat · 4 years

Text

you're all in my hands tonight, tonight I'm a rock 'n' roll star. / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Four Days Later, On A Friday.

Matty's POV

Computer Education had already given me a sour taste in my mouth and I only sat through two of its lectures. One because I knew majority of what was listed on the slides Professor Nolan was scheming through. I really had no explanation why I applied at UNI in the first place. I had high hopes that the tapes the boys and I sent into Capital Records would hit a soft spot. Sending us on a one way trip to success, where none of these qualifications would matter as long as I wrote out the music.

Then again if it all went down hill where I'd arrive at my flat with a box of tapes with the word 'denied' repeatedly stamped over it like fragile, even though my heart would be the fragile piece in that box. It would open the door behind the scene, the little paper of a degree with my name. A ticket of being able to tweak the shitty tunes on the radio that replayed like the TV movies do on Sundays.

Two, Professor Nolan was a bit of a drag. A fine dapper looking gentlemen in his early fifties. His hair slick back dirty blonde with what looked like emerald eyes the last time I stood close. A close shaved beard that extenuated his sharp jaw line. Dressed to the nines that if you seen him on the streets, you would've thought he had millions and a white collar type business. Even though, his Gucci navy suit that my father had exactly and bought for fifteen hundred dollars could make you believe he sat on a green mountain of dollar signs.

I felt his personality and aura resembled a present me. Barely in tune with all the new things happening but completely in tune with the young ladies that gave any advantages to pass. But in his case the young ladies could pass as daughters if the sucker had any.

"Open Audio Access on your laptops." He commanded, changing the slides that was accompanied with taps and clicks from everyone following along. I sighed to myself, everything that was on those poorly designed boards. I had edited and achieved on a new track the boys and I had recorded last night.

I slouched back in my seat, listening to Nolan's cocky Mr. Know-It-All demeanor. His degrees decorating the back of his desk fact it in that he knew more. Only giving him the approval of having Professor in front of Nolan instead of Mister.

After commenting on Mindy's plaid skirt, Professor Feast-A-Lot finally dismissed us.

I still had a class within the hour, just some simple music class that I signed up for the laughing matter. Always stating my answers to bands I drowned myself in as the other students wanted to cuss me out. Sighing to themselves, like that mop got the spill of answers.

With the time I had between I decided to get some coffee. The tea I had earlier with George talking about his night wasn't living up to it's strong expectations. Even though the class I just left could stand as a contender of an explanation.

I walked with the rush of the hundreds in the halls, making my way to left wing lounge and turning the corner of muraled up wall, covered in vibrant flowers and weird shapes from the art program.

Waiting at the counter I turned to scan the little lounge, just many studying with their textbooks as heads. Some talking to another. Just the common vibe of any little coffee shop you stepped your foot into.

One of them sticking out like a sore thumb.

Lucy.

Writing in her leather bound journal that rested on her crossed legs, playing with the slight tear in her in the hem of her playful colored dress.

Relaxed and looking out the window on the purple wing-back in the cafe lounge. Watching the shades of orange, red and yellow converse against the blue sky. Admiring her side profile, a high cheek bone with a light dusting of blush against her milky skin, her perfectly rounded jaw. Her lashes curled with a coding of mascara that complimented her baby blues.

I watched as she grazed her bottom rosy lip with the back of her pen in thought.

The red headed barista asked for the second time what I wanted before realizing that she was even speaking. Finding it hard to take my eyes off the scenery near the window. I ordered my black coffee, then pointed out Lucy who looked disappointed in the last drops of her cup. Dark roast, light with vanilla, sugar and two shots of the sleep she had lost the night before.

--------------------------------------------

Lucy's POV.

I was finding myself becoming a frequent patient with my therapeutic glances of the vibrant trees and the sounds of the espresso machine. Sitting in the same wingback, looking about the window, stuck in what I was going to jot in my journal next. My first week of being in London and enduring classes was wrapping up, nothing worthy had happened yet to write about and I was finding myself running around a writer's block.

As much as I wanted my creative juices to keep blending. I couldn't complain about how things were going. University has been so far treating me well. I've met a good handful of my professors in Week A, many have taken a liking to me which I couldn't quite grasp. But it wasn't a bad feeling to know about, plus Professor Jones really liked my thesis of A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Putting a good word into the librarian of the Uni's library and landing me a interview for Monday.

Things at the university housing with Liz and Abby was going pretty well too. I was growing more fond of them by the minute, both interested in the same type of books, music and films. Liz was a bit realistic and logic about life, which kind of put a damper on things if you were trying to live in a fantasy world with reality biting you in the ass. Then Abby was more free spirited and self aware of what made an individual very much happy, even when the world was not so happy.

Then lastly, home. I finally Skyped my brother Eric and my dad. It was early for them but quite late for me. But in all I was mixed with emotions, both joyful and sad that I wasn't home. They are doing well so far.

I sighed to myself, resting my leather bound on my lap and retreating my blue eyes to the shades of orange, red and yellow. Reaching for the coffee I had finished moments ago, but reluctant to get up and grab another.

But that was before one was brought to me instead. By another thing that I had happened to come across this week.

"Am I intruding?" The English native that I met my first night here had greeted, handing me the warm paper cup with pretty botanical flowers repeated. I shook my head, gesturing my free hand to the wingback across.

Matty sat down, folding his long legs over one another. His eyes meeting mine, smiling softly as his mouth indulged in a sip. Giving me a few moments to admire before another word.

He wasn't wearing his glasses today but his hair was the same as the night I met him. Pulled back into a bun with loose curls shaping out his face. My eyes leading down to his lined out jaw. His collarbones, the tattoo that always made an appearance no matter what type of shirt he wore this week. To the lasting hole over his knee.

I was broken from my stare when he had chuckled, possibly figuring out that I was staring long.

"Anything new?" He asked, his eyes gesturing to my open leather bound. I shook my head, slowly closing it against my knee before my eyes met his again.

He looked at me surprised and in disbelief, "So the storyteller doesn't have a story to tell?" He questioned, resting his cup on the table aside us. I shrugged, it was truly hard to believe but as my mind moved fast the world outside of it didn't and I was at a stand still.

"It just been classes, reading and then some." I finished, finally taking a sip of my coffee.

Matty smiled at me again, a smile I could watch curl at the ends of his mouth like a favorite part to a movie. "We may have to change that." He said, looking at me with tricks under his sleeves and me swimming in his over sized sweater.

I had to cut my coffee break short when I realized I had time run to my next class, Woman Studies.

Shortly becoming my favorite class as we debated fundamental rights and she played Kathleen Hanna fronted Bikini Kill winning my anarchy heart.

"Don't forget to read The Second Sex and please have your reasoning's sent in by 12 AM on Monday." She dismissed. I followed suit with the rest of the class as I packed away my things for the weekend.

Making my way to the hall to get lost in the hundred of others trying to head out and not miss the next Tube coming by. The boy in a leather jacket that I was sharing a coffee with an hour earlier was leaning against the wall next to the door.

His devious smirk gracing upon his face, "I'm feeling like you're onto something." I commented, a small smile plastering across my cheeks. Matty rippled a contagious laugh that I could listen to like an album on my turntable.

"Can't a gentleman just walk a lady home safely?" He remarked.

"No! That's a lie!" I laughed, hitting Matty's forearm lightly. We had moved onto music since Matty offered to walk me home. And let's just say we had a few differences.

Matty loved older music, which I did too. But I found Prince to be a bit cooler than MJ. Which didn't sit well with Matty. "Have you heard the magic in Rock With You?" He mentioned, "It's fucking legendary!" It was so funny to see him go off, but I never said I didn't like the man! I knew how the sounds had your hips moving. I was just a Purple Rain kind of girl.

Matty stood in front of me, walking backwards down the sidewalk.

Girl. Close your eyes... He began singing, moving his hips to the beats that played out in his head. Taking my hand, and pulling me close.

Let that rhythm get into you, don't try to fight it. Placing one hand above my hip, the other still in mine. Directing my hips into a sway, as his voice hit me like sweet serenity.

He went on, and I was enjoying every bit of it. Music was his muse like books were mine and he wasn't ashamed to show it. His hips showing that he never stopped moving either.

We had arrived to the front of my flat, Matty belting more songs of MJ.

"I have to get in," I mentioned, not really wanting to do so. Matty's lips kept moving "Not until you change your mind." Singing in the measures of Don't Stop Till You Get Enough.

I chuckled, still dancing with him till I finally caved in. "Alright, Michael Jackson is better." I confessed, meaning every word that fell from my mouth. He just chuckled, pulling me closer and bringing his lips to my ear.

"I think you're lying" his warm breath grazing my lobe. Sending chills down my spine. I went to protest when Liz and Abby got out of their car. Interrupting our manifest. They just softly smiled, saying Hello before retreating up the porch. I looked up at Matty, who still had his hand around my waist.

Matty pulled away with a soft but questionable expression on his face. I wondered what was on his mind.

"Come watch us play tonight." He said, "The boys and I are playing at the bar George's bartends in. I'd like to see you there."

Many different excuses ran through my mind. Studying, catching some sleep, watching the same three episodes of The Office, outline my far along memoir that would be a flop. Just a rush of things that could've fallen from my mouth.

"Alright, sounds like fun." Happened to be the better option.

Matty's smirk turn a bit shy, looking to the ground before he looked back up at me.

"I'll pick you up at 6?" He questioned, I nodded. Still confused on why I was agreeing to this extravaganza in the first place. A smile gracing his face once more before turning on his Vans to head back to where his road led him.

"See you soon, Blue."

#the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy imagines #slutforbritdick #wattpadarchives

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imagine-otome-games · 5 years

Text

Not His Type [Kiro MLQC]

Pairing: Kiro x Female!Reader

Warnings: Cursing ofc, angst stuff, reader is portrayed as big and somewhat brooding, she is teasing and a little rude <3

A/N: This is for all my girls that aren’t really like the MC in this game. Not smol, no tiny fists or weak punches. Maybe not that sweet or bubbly or outgoing. This is for my big brooding bitches. The ones that don’t fit like they should and hide their sweet little hearts because the world isn’t too nice if you aren’t properly portioned with your fat or bigness. I see you.((Also I’m aware Kiros fanbase as I’ve read so far is portrayed nicely, but knowing how pretty boy fanbases tend to be at times, I’m being realistic with this one))

Kiro is probably the sweetest guy you’ve ever known- a literal angel if you will. He’s kind and pretty much always around when you need a pick-me-up. Which was insane, considering his busy schedule and how him going anywhere can be difficult. His fans for the most part are alright, but there’s so many, they swarm instantaneously. It happens so quick you wonder how he hasn’t suffered some sort of whiplash.

However, nice as they are, some aren’t so nice. Kiro’s evol really only cures this in person. Online, not really. Some people have some set vision for Kiro. Who he could be seen with- who he could ever like.It’s a little crazy, how he’s put with people he’s never really met or how they rage at him liking a certain post or picture. Sure, it’s a small percentage, but it’s enough to have him be a little careful.

It kinda sucked, having to hide when hanging out, but it made sense. You could just imagine the fits people would have if someone like you was seen with him. You’re no model. You don’t have designer clothes or your own fanbase. You just run a company, kind of. On top of that? You’re not really his type- or at least you think so. You don’t quite shine like he does. You’re not small or quaint like some of the fans he meets. You’re a little taller than him, your frames a little bigger- you’re sure you’d look awkward with him.

You hated to have that mindset but.. this was your reality. You knew it. You just hated how it didn’t help you try to fight what you were feeling. The last thing you needed in your life was to fall for a pop star. It wouldn’t end well for you- especially knowing what it sounds like to hear him say ‘Do you love me like I love you?” with such emotion. He’d said those three special words so sweetly, it about ruined you, but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t for you, and he’d even made a little joke about it. You know he meant no harm, yet it still hurt.

You kinda hated it. This ‘not his type’ stuff was high school nonsense and you swore you left that all behind. You hated how it somehow came back to haunt you. Giving you flashbacks to memories you tried to bury deep.

“Sorry, Miss Chips, I gotta go back out there again, see you in a bit!”, Kiro said, his happy tone breaking you from your tiny spiral of sad thoughts.

He’d wanted to hang out, but he had some sort of rehearsal,and so the hang out led you to being backstage with him somewhere. All you’d really done was listen to him recite some lines to study, but it was enough. You almost hated that- how just being near him was enough, yet also not even close to enough. It was bittersweet.

You watched him hurry back out to where he was needed, his golden locks bouncing with his stride.

Since you came here, you’d heard murmurs among his crew, mainly the women in it. Hushed questions were asked as eyes lingered on you when you weren’t looking. You almost wished you could say what you wanted, but all of it would be lies. Kiro was not and never would be yours. You weren't sure if he’d ever be anyones. His fanbase just wouldn’t allow it.

“I’m not his girlfriend.”, you say, tone irritated for all sorts of reasons, “I’m not his type, didn’t you know? So can you please be quiet? I have a headache.”

You hadn’t intended to be so sharp or bitter, but saying the truth can do that to a person. No one wants to say that their not the right type for the person they’ve grown to yearn for. It’s painful to think on, and it almost kills you to say it.

Kiro is a sweet-heart, a loving ball of sunshine and he deserves the best. He doesn’t fit with the angry bitch some of his crew-women are whispering angrily about.

‘Do you love me like I love you?’

No, because you don’t love me..

Something deep inside hurt. It ached and it burned- it made you ask yourself why you were like this. A biting type personality, soft little heart breaking, buried under all the angry and sad. Why this body- why this person? Why couldn’t you be bright and bubbly?

Why couldn’t you be his type?

But oh darling, you are. He is the sun and you are his moon- this big beautiful moon that makes him laugh till his stomach hurts. You make him smile until he can’t feel his cheeks and just the mere thought of you makes him feel so warm inside. He loves how you’re tough- how you become even tougher when you see those you care for being bothered or upset. How you handle your own and even give him a taste of his own teasing medicine. Your smile is rare, and so he feels so special when seeing it. Your laugh rings like the best music he’s ever heard, the volume of it just means he must be damn funny.

He adores all of who you are. He’d proudly hold your hand and damn all who dare to say you don’t fit with him. He’s grown to love you so blindly and so plainly- but you can’t see it.

You’ve blinded yourself, gouged your own eyes out with your bare hands. You’ve hurt yourself, but you’ve also hurt him.

“I’m not his type, didn’t you know?”

He keeps his back to the wall, eyes cast down.

“I’m not his girlfriend.”

You said it so surely- so bitterly. It made him wonder if maybe he was reading things wrong. Maybe the idea of being his girlfriend bothered you because he wasn’t your type. The thought ate at him in a way he didn’t like. It burned within his chest, making him put a hand against it, as if he could stop the ache and the burning. Maybe he was right all along, and he wasn’t for you.He’d read everything all wrong- and oh it hurt.

It hurt so bad, he had this.. power to charm. He could make anyone love him if he was shallow- and the one person he really, truly wanted to just.. adore him, didn’t.

He’d do anything for your love. He was so certain it must be so amazing, you had so much to give, so much to offer.

He just wished he was the one you’d give to. He gave to you every single day.

“Kiro! Pay attention, we have to get this right!”

He shot up instantly, happy mask going on within seconds, “Sorry, sorry! Just practicing a little more!”, he said, making his smile big and bright.

Only to have it fall when he found you gone. You never left without saying goodbye to him. It stung even more when he remembered that, but he’s not sure if you leaving would hurt less if you had said bye. His emotions were all over after hearing you say all that- what even caused you to?

What was said to you? Who were you talking to?

Miss Chips is typing..

Miss Chips: Sorry Kiro, my head hurts and I don’t really wanna bother you when you’re working. See you later?

Kiro is typing..

Kiro: Sorry Miss Chips :{ I hope your headache gets better, I promise next time it’ll be just us!

Miss Chips is typing..

Miss Chips: Dw about it. I’m gonna sleep it off, text you later!

Kiro stared at his phone, questioning whether or not he should bring up what he heard. He didn’t want to upset you, and who knows if you’d answer him. You had a knack for avoiding conversations and questions you didn’t want to deal with. It was the one part of you he kind of didn’t like. When you closed-up, you closed tightly. Nothing would make you open, and no one could ever tell when you’d open again.

It would be months before he got to see you in person again. He got this creeping feeling of you distancing yourself from him. He hated to think on it, but surely it was happening. You didn’t laugh like you used to- didn’t smile with your eyes like you often did. They looked dull.

It killed him to see.

“Don’t you know, I’m no good for you..”

#kiro mlqc #kiro mlqc fic #mlqc #mlqc fic #mlqc angst #mlqc x you #mlqc x reader #mr love queens choice #mr love #kiro

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aivaehdaevis · 4 years

Text

The More Things Change: Ch 1

The More Things Change

by Aivaeh

Disclaimer: Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it. Summary: I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert. Pairing(s): OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus Rating: M Word Count: 5,549 Warning(s): Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death. Author's Note: I know there are a ton of these fics out there. Still I recently got into the show, and I can't get enough of these types of stories. The urge to write my own wouldn't leave me alone so here it is. Hopefully someone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Master List Next Chapter External Links: AO3 | FF.Net | Wattpad

Chapter One

The color of my arm as I slapped the top of the alarm clock was the first clue something was wrong. Confused by the sudden shift in skin tone, I stilled. Stared down my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. Sitting up, I stretched out my other arm. A quick flip revealed that they were the same shade. Perfect mirrors of each other.

It wasn't until my sights drifted from my mysterious overnight tanning that I realized I wasn't in my room, either. From the steep slanted ceiling to the built-in bookshelf, nothing was familiar except the white walls. The bed wasn't my bed. The cream bedspread and wooden headboard were a different style from my purple comforter and modern piping headboard. Now that I was paying attention, I realized the mattress felt firmer, too.

Where was I? How did I get here? My memory came up blank.

I shuddered and closed my eyes. But no matter how many times I squeezed them shut and reopened them, the room was the same. Wondering if I were trapped in a freakishly realistic dream, I tried to pinch my arm. The sharp pain pulled in an equally sharp a breath, but it didn't jolt me back into my own bed. Not that I'd had much hope it would. I wasn't a lucid dreamer, but I knew when I was awake. And I was awake.

I rubbed my arm, encouraging the pale patch of skin to fade back into the darker golden olive I was now sporting. Waiting for the bruising pulse to fade, a few strands of hair fell across my face. I pinched the lock and brought it up to eye level. It was straight, not the crinkled mess I usually woke with. The shade was a darker brown, too. Nearly black out of the sunlight.

I caught sight of a full-length mirror. If my arms and hair were different… But the angle made it impossible to see myself from the bed. Swallowing, I swung my legs out from beneath the blanket and was both surprised and not to find the same golden coloring so different from my typical pale. My thighs were softer, lacking the sharp definition of muscle. Another twist from my stomach warned me I was starting to freak out again, but I couldn't help it. I took in the hips that flared, and then a chest more generous than mine.

I rose up onto quivering legs, dread deepening with every careful step towards the mirror. When I stepped in front of it, lips parted but with nothing to say. A hand flew over the mouth that wasn't mine. Wide open eyes a deeper shade of brown stared back at me in horror. The head shook side to side, denial in the steep pinch of sculpted brows.

Nina Dobrev's horrified reflection stared back at me.

The face finally lost a shade, and if it went any lighter, it might end up closer to my own. Her hands curled into the straight strands of shining hair, ran across the crown of the skull, tightening into a grip that pulled. I sucked down each breath, watching as the actress in the mirror mimicked every move. The reflection blurred, colors smearing. I shut my eyes before the burn in my eyes manifested into tears.

This was insane. It couldn't be real. I had to be dreaming.

Eyes open again, I looked around. Like a shift in perspective had shown me the full picture, this new understanding painted my surroundings in a very different light. I'd seen this room before. On a television show. Elena's room. The bed where Damon would lounge and wave at Elena with her teddy bear—that was on the floor next to her bed. The window seat Elijah would lean against as he bargained for Elena's friends and family's lives at the price of her own life.

Wrapping my arms around my stomach, as if I could physically hold back the wave of nausea threatening to spill over, I gazed around and shivered. I tentatively moved back to the mirror and pressed the tip of a finger against it. Cold. Smooth and solid. Real. I pressed against the wooden frame. Slightly less cold, but still chilled. Slightly less hard but still solid, small imperfections beneath my skin from the grain, even smoothed with varnish. Real.

I moved faster, as if trying to outrace the truth to the other side of the room, to a desk pressed against the wall. There were candles that gave under my fingertips when pressed hard enough. Real. Notebooks that my fingers slid across until my nails caught the metal spiral. Real. My toes curled into the cold hardwood floor smoothed with a coat or two of lacquer. Real. I picked up a framed picture of Elena smooshed between two adults I'd never seen before. My finger squeaked across the glass as I slid my thumb over their smiles. Real. Brought it up to stare at a younger Elena. This wasn't some prop for a television show, with carefully set lighting and a professional eye. It was the naturally lit and awkwardly shot photograph of an amateur. The faint smell of vanilla lingered in the air. Real.

The picture clattered back onto the desktop. My free hand curled back into a fist that pressed into my stomach. I turned and stared at the frightened girl in the mirror.

Shuffling back to the bed, I settled onto a bottom corner. I stared at the alarm clock. Six thirty in the morning. Early? Or was Elena Gilbert a pre-dawn riser? An insomniac?

Like a song set to repeat, my mind circled back around to the unbelievable situation I was in. Wondering, over and over, how this was possible. What had happened after I'd gone to bed? How did I wake up as a character in a television show? Was this some kind of nervous break? Had I gone mad? Was I dead? In a coma? How real was real? Really real? What'd happen to me if something happened to her?

Rubbing a hand down my face, I struggled with all the questions I couldn't answer. What I did know was that I liked the show well enough to watch it, but I'd never want to live it. Let alone as Elena. Not that I had an issue with her, she served the purpose she was written for. She just wasn't my favorite. Not like Caroline, who'd shown amazing growth. She didn't have any powers like Bonnie. Unless you counted attracting danger.

Since I wasn't craving blood—at least, I didn't think I was—I guessed she was still human. Realizing vampirism was a possibility I had to seriously consider, a snort of laughter bubbled up and escaped before I could stop it. As if a dam broke, I let loose more laughter, this time sounding frantic and half-crazed. What absurd turn into insanity had my life taken?

A door opened somewhere beyond the closed one separating Elena's room from the rest of the house. The sound choked my laughter abruptly short as my heart shot up and got stuck in my throat. The floor creaked outside. Footsteps grew closer. Came all the way up to the room's door. The rap of knuckles set my heart pounding. "Elena?" I knew that voice. Jenna, Elena's aunt. "Better get in the shower if you don't want to be late."

I swallowed back a scream. "Okay." Oh god. I even sounded like Nina Dobrev. Elena. Whoever.

I took a steadying breath before adding a tentative, "Thanks."

"Sure." The footsteps moved back and away as she walked down what I was guessing was a hallway.

Well. Still somewhat dazed, but a little steadier after my bout of mad laughter, I found clothes laid out on a dresser after a moment of unfocused gazing while my brain rebooted. Getting up and going over, I picked them up and turned towards the built-in bookshelf, beside which was another door. One Jenna hadn't knocked on. I had vague memories of a bathroom—one the ghost of Bonnie's ancestor trapped her inside.

Sidling up to it, I hesitated for a second before pushing it open. A connecting bathroom, and not just to Elena's bedroom. The opposite door must've led to Jeremy's. It wasn't large, but it had enough room for two sinks, a toilet, and a shower tucked behind the inward swinging door.

Discomfort had my hands gripping the clothes tighter at thought of washing somebody else. Did she have a bathing suit? No, I'd still have to undress. But that was better than scrubbing.

I chewed on my inner cheek before sighing. This whole situation was a can of worms. What were the ethics of a fictional character's bodily autonomy, if they weren't so fictional anymore? At first it seemed cut and dry—treat it with the respect you'd give any other body—except for the fact I was the one currently occupying it. Which made me wonder what had happened to the real Elena. Or was she real? Had someone's consciousness been in this body before? Was she still in here, somewhere? What about Jenna? Was she real? She'd sounded real. Would she parrot lines from the show, like some sort of scripted character? Was I? Had I already been doing that all my life? Was I doing it now?

Already overwhelmed, I wasn't up to parsing through all the metaphysical questions that went along with finding myself in a fictional universe populated by fictional characters. Nevermind all the implications and ramifications. Knowing jack shit about what had happened to me, I couldn't even venture towards any sort of guess, educated or otherwise.

I turned to the more concrete and immediate issue instead. Could I get away with not washing? I raised my arm and sniffed. Nothing funky but—ugh. Going a day without showering had my nose wrinkling as if I'd caught a whiff of body odor. Besides, at some point, I was going to have to use the toilet.

I compromised with myself by making it quick and not looking at anything.

I kept hurrying as I wrapped myself up in towel before daring to go in front of the mirror. Elena, hair plastered against her head and neck, looked freaked out. I frowned. So did she. Eager to banish the surreal sight away, my gaze dropped like a stone to the sinks. A separate toothbrush holder for both, one tube of toothpaste between them. I took hold of the purple toothbrush, hoping I'd picked the right one. I concentrated on finishing up the morning's ablutions.

Back in the bedroom, I shut the door behind me. I was about to unwind the towel and dry off before wrapping up Elena's longer hair when a sound broke the morning quiet and sent a chill through my blood.

"Caw!"

My arms and neck prickled from all the hairs now standing straight. My head turned, slow and reluctant. A light cotton curtain shifted in a breeze from an open window. A window I knew had been shut earlier when I'd examined the bedroom. On the thick boughs of an old tree standing beyond perched a great black crow, watching.

Head tilting, its small black eye remained fixed. On me. After a minute where we stared at one another and it—he?—stayed still, I took a few careful steps to the window. Its head straightened and a wing shook. I paused, but it didn't hop away or take off, so I finished crossing the final bit of space between me and the window. I ignored the curtain as its edge brushed along my bare arm. I stared into that black gaze, searching for something more than animal in its eye. Something intelligent. The very idea was crazy, but at this point, it was a drop in an ocean of madness.

"Caw!"

Sucking down a breath, I gripped the windowpane and pushed it shut. The crow stretched its neck and dipped its head. Standing back up, it launched itself into the sky with a powerful flapping of its shining black wings.

The air rushed out of me, taking the worst of my anxiety with it. "Perv." Forehead falling to the glass, I shut my eyes to shut out this fake world and let my skin soak up the cold. The sun's light glowed red behind my eyelids. I stared into it for as long as I could stand before opening them back up and shutting the curtains. Not that they'd do much good, white and thin as they were.

Hurrying to dress, my sights darted around to all the windows. On the plus side, I was so preoccupied with avoiding any peeping crows I didn't have time to worry out about dressing a body that wasn't mine. Since I hadn't wrapped my hair, the back of Elena's red shirt dampened. Swearing, I snatched the towel I'd discarded from the bed. I tried massaging the worst of the wetness out of it before wrapping it up.

With Jenna still alive, Elena was a seventeen-year-old Junior. She had to have a hair dryer somewhere.

Not hearing anyone or anything stirring out of the bathroom, I went back in. I found one in cupboards beneath the sink, along with a set of curling irons and various other beauty paraphernalia. A power strip laid nearby for the plug. Rummaging through the rest of the drawers, I found Elena's makeup.

With an unfamiliar face, it took me longer than normal to apply it.

As soon as I was ready, I ventured beyond the bedroom door and into the hallway. It looked fairly normal. A generic pastoral painting hung on the wall above a low side table. More doors, one that must have led to the bathroom. Jeremy's had to be beyond it. I supposed that meant Elena's parents had the room across. Jenna must be sleeping there now.

The stairs were at the end of the hall. I paused at the top, listening for any sounds of life down below. Sure enough there was a slight clatter and the running of a faucet. Kitchen?

Only one way to find out.

The stairs were well made. They didn't creak as I descended. Pictures were arranged on the wall. Family portraits. The two adults from the framed photograph in my room featured in these, too. Elena's parents, maybe. I don't remember the series ever featuring either of them.

The faucet was shut off before I reached the landing. Drawers were rolling open and closed, though, punctuated by the creak of a cabinet door. The controlled orchestra of domesticity led me to the right and down a narrow hall that led into a wide-open archway. The smell of freshly brewed coffee grew stronger with each step. Beyond the arch sat a full-size dining table. Scooting around, I approach an island counter separating the kitchen proper from the dining area.

Jenna was moving back and forth between the cabinets and island, various breakfast paraphernalia spread out on the other counter lining the wall. Boxes of cereal and pop tarts, bowels of fruit, a loaf of bread beside a plate of butter. She was muttering, but it was too low to make out.

I stopped at the outside of the island, next to the stools, and leaned on its marble top. "Jenna?"

If she noticed my hesitation she didn't seem to think it was a big deal. "Elena! Morning." Her smile was almost manic, stretched way too wide and revealing way too many teeth. "I made breakfast!" She paused before adding, "Well, I pulled it out of the fridge and cabinets. But. Breakfast!"

I swept my sights along the strange horde of food.

Jenna followed my lead, twisting at the waist to take in her work. "Too much?"

"Little bit." I squeezed my hands together. Somewhere up above, a toilet flushed. Surprised, I looked up. That's something I never heard on the show.

"Oh, good. Jeremy's up." Jenna shook her head. "Was not looking forward to dragging him out of bed."

It was a guess, but, "First day of school."

Jenna looked over and must have seen the trepidation in my face and interpreted it as nerves. "You'll do great, Elena. No one expected you to keep up your grades last year after—" she trailed off into an awkward silence before shrugging. "Anyway. It'll be better. You'll do better." Before I could think of a reply, that slightly panicked glaze came back over her eyes. She held up her hands, "Not to place undue expectations on you. Fine is good. You'll do fine."

Wow. The woman was a bigger wreck than I was. And I was an unwitting body snatcher plopped into the start of the Vampire Diaries' pilot episode. I managed a careful smile. "Right."

Jenna brightened. "Right!" She turned and thrust a hand towards a box of frozen Eggos. "Waffles?"

The thought of food threatened to churn my still sour stomach. "Oh. I'm… not really hungry this morning."

Jenna looked as if I'd shot a dog. "Nerves. Should've thought of that," she fretted. Before I could assure her it was a nice gesture, she burst into motion. Sweeping the food back into her arms before carrying it back towards the fridge. "How about coffee?" she asked over the tower of boxes and plastic containers. "Just brewed a pot."

I wasn't really feeling up to that, either, but didn't want to make things any worse. I wasn't entirely certain she wouldn't disassemble the keurig. "Sure." The shiny coffeemaker sat beside a sterling silver sink. I pushed myself off the counter and carefully sidestepped Jenna to the percolating pot.

Then I realized I had no idea where the mugs were.

Casting an eye to Jenna, who kept shoving the food back into the fridge, I wondered if she'd notice me searching the cabinets when a loud stomping moving swiftly down the stairs signaled Jeremy's impending arrival. The boy himself appeared a moment later, bangs swept across his drooping eyes. He slouched past the table and the island, coming to a stand beside me. The smell of teenage boy was very strong—the hoodie must have come off the floor, and I hadn't heard the shower—when he reached over my head to the end cabinet.

"Breakfast?" Jenna asked, voice hopeful as she half-straightened from the fridge.

"Coffee," Jeremy grunted, plucking a mug from the cabinet.

Jenna sighed and went back to putting away the food.

Jeremy took a glance at the remaining debris from Jenna's impromptu buffet and arched a brow before dismissing it with a shrug. Apparently, the coffee pot was more interesting.

I took a moment to soak in the presence of two fictional characters. From Jenna's frenetic movements to the languid shuffling of Jeremy Gilbert as he moved back towards the island and one of the stools.

Surreal didn't begin to cover it.

I reached up into the same cabinet I'd seen Jeremy take a mug from to get my own. The coffee smelled good as it flowed into the cup, releasing an especially strong aroma. I took a moment to just let the scent wash over me, ground me. How could this be a dream? How could it be real?

Noticing my hands were beginning to shake again, I forced the questions back and wondered which one of the ceramic chicken-shaped jars standing alongside the backsplash were filled with sugar. Tentatively I checked the rooster. The contents were white and powdery but looked too fine. Probably flour. I checked the next, a brown hen. Bingo.

Shit. Where were the spoons?

"You both have rides?" Jenna asked as I surreptitiously tried to pull open a drawer to peek for silverware.

"Yep." Slurping resumed from Jeremy's place at the counter.

"Bonnie's picking me up?" I didn't mean to make it sound like a question, but it's not like I knew what Elena's plans had been prior to possessing her body. I had no idea how close to the show things were. If I was even in the 'show' or some alternative universe. Or if I was going insane. Maybe I was trapped in a hallucination. Maybe it was about to go bad, and killer clowns were going to jump out of the next drawer.

I opened it very carefully. Turned out it was where the big utensils like the bar-b-que fork went.

Where the hell did these people put their spoons?

"Okay. What else? Lunch money?"

I had given up the search for the spoon and decided to drink the coffee black when Jeremy's free hand lifted.

Jenna grabbed a purse off the end of the counter and fished inside until she emerged with a few bills. Jeremy plucked them from her hand and had them shoved into his pocket before Jenna had the chance to hand them over. Swiveling around in the chair, he got up and wandered back out of the kitchen, mug traveling with him.

Did he actually have a ride?

Trying to remember, I started to take a sip. Soon as the edge of the mug touched my lip, it became clear it was too hot to drink. How'd Jeremy manage? Hoping to cool it some, I blew out a breath.

"Elena?"

I froze, eyes wide as I looked over.

Jenna had another ten in her hand.

"Oh, I'm… I'm good." I had no idea if that was true, but I wasn't about to emulate Jeremy's grabby hands. That was just rude.

"Okay." Jenna folded the cash back into her wallet before plopping it back into her handbag. The purse-o-phile in me admired the supple white leather in a quilted pattern. "That's it? Don't need anything else?" She ran her eyes over me. "Backpack?"

"Upstairs?" Probably.

"Don't forget it." Jenna squinted. "What am I missing?"

I stared back, face blank, heart racing.

Her eyes widened. "Crap! My thesis adviser." She snatched the handbag off the counter and hurried out another door that must've led outside. "Good luck!"

As soon as she was gone, I collapsed on top of the counter. The mug clattered against the marble top, and a splash of coffee hit my hand. I hissed, snatching it away and lifting it to my face for inspection. Well, no third-degree burns. Just stung like a bitch. I blew on it, stomach again dropping like a stone as I realized there was no way I'd sleep through a burn, even a minor one.

With the rest of the house's occupants elsewhere, I conducted a proper search of the kitchen. Having no idea how long I'd be stuck in this… situation… I tried to remember where everything was. Or, at least, the important stuff.

Turned out the spoons were in a drawer on the other side of the island.

The coffee had cooled by the time I got sugar into it. A digital clock on the fridge read the time as twenty minutes after seven. If Bonnie was picking Elena up, it probably wouldn't be much longer before she was here. I was pretty sure most schools started at eight. Give the girls fifteen to twenty to get there and find their home rooms—Bonnie was probably on her way right now.

High school. Again.

I grimaced into the mug before taking a longer drink. Did I have to go? I could claim I'd gotten sick. Then I remembered Jenna's frantic need to be helpful, to get her two charges sent off fed and ready for the day. Even if she wasn't real, she'd seemed real enough. I didn't like disappointing people in general. I really hated the idea of disappointing someone working so hard to make sure things went well for—well, Elena, technically. Which was me. For now.

Besides, this might not last. Elena would have an easier time adjusting if her attendance didn't take a nosedive.

Or maybe this was a lucid hallucination and I was wasting my time.

I set the mug down and rubbed a hand down my face. Well, what else would I do? Watch television? Play games? Might as well play along. I didn't know what was happening. Seemed safest to go along with what I knew. Disrupt as little as possible.

But man. High school.

With as much excitement as a sewage treatment tech headed off to work, I trumped up the stairs and back towards Elena's room. I remembered which one it was. Granted, mostly because I'd left the door open and rock music was emanating from the other closed door. Yeah. That was definitely Jeremy's room.

Back in Elena's domain, I hunted around for a backpack. If the girl had her outfit laid out, I was willing to bet she'd had her school supplies ready to go to.

Sure enough, I found it leaning against the chair tucked under the desk. It was one of those bags that looked like a giant purse or laptop case, but in leather. Really nice. I swung it onto my shoulder and squeezed the straps. They gave a comforting little creak.

I paused to look around for anything else I might need. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I paused to stare. God. This was Elena Gilbert. I mean, I was Elena Gilbert. Headed off to her first day of Junior year.

She'd meet Stefan Salvatore today.

I didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, I thought Stefan—or Paul Wesley—was ridiculously handsome. On the other, he was a vampire. He was a vampire that tore off people's heads when he got in a feeding frenzy.

It was a great relationship to stream from the comfort of my couch. But living it? Um, no. I didn't like the idea of being the doppelgänger with the magical blood that every male vampire seemed to want for one reason or another.

I was still staring at Elena in the mirror when a chime went off downstairs. Doorbell. Probably Bonnie.

I squeezed the handles of Elena's bag again and just stuffed all the questions and worries back down. I mean, vampires? Doppelgängers? Witches? Werewolves? Curses? I couldn't function if I thought about all this craziness. Who could? What I needed to do was take my dad's most often given advice: Go with the flow.

I retraced my steps back downstairs, but this time didn't turn back towards the kitchen but hurried for the door. A glance through the peephole showed Bonnie freaking Bennett waiting patiently on the other side of the door. A weird sensation of being slightly out of it came over me as I pulled the door open and was greeted with a bright smile.

"Hey!"

"Hi." I tried to return her blinding smile with one of my own.

It must not have gone very well. Bonnie's immediately slipped into a slight frown and furrowed brows of concern. "Nervous?"

I laughed. To my credit, I sounded only a little crazy. "You have no idea." Bonnie Bennett. I was talking to Bonnie Freaking Bennett!

Bonnie fixed another smile on her face, this one far more empathetic. "Ready or not, we'd better get going."

"Okay." My stomach was still flipping. Good thing I hadn't taken Jenna up on her offer of food. I wondered if I should let Jeremy know I was leaving, then figured he wouldn't hear over the music. He probably wouldn't care even if he could.

Stepping out, I shut the door behind me. Jeremy would lock up, wouldn't he? When Bonnie didn't say anything about walking away without locking up myself, I felt my shoulders loosen slightly. I followed dutifully behind her.

The Gilbert's maintained a nice front lawn, and I didn't doubt that the back was as meticulously well kept. The bushes were all evenly trimmed, and the grass had been cut recently. I wondered if it was all Jeremy, or if I shared in the outdoor chores.

We followed the sidewalk to the driveway where Bonnie had parked her blue Prius. We settled in, buckled our belts, and were off with a turn of the engine. Imogen Heap's electronically altered voice filled the car with the chorus of Watcha Say.

Bonnie leaned over and turned down the stereo before straightening back up and shifting the car into drive. I turned my sights to the front windshield, watching as she turned left and headed down the street. I tried to make note of every sign we passed and subsequent turn she made. But I started losing track before we hit what I guessed was Mystic Fall's main street.

The two-story homes turned into brick buildings sporting various signs proclaiming one type of business after another. The street itself was lined with old fashioned black streetlamps rather than the newer curved sort that had dotted the neighborhood. I didn't doubt they were electric, but it was a nice touch. Hanging from the occasional stop light were banners announcing an upcoming festival.

"Night of the Comet," I muttered as we passed beneath another gently rippling advertisement.

"This Thursday. Can you believe it's already here?" Bonnie kept her eyes on the road.

"Nope," I answered in complete honesty. "I cannot."

"Grams says it's a bad omen." Bonnie huffed a scoffing laugh. "She says a lot of things nowadays."

Giving up on following the route to the high school, I turned to look at Bonnie instead. A distinct sensation of déjà vu washed over me. I swallowed before trying for a casual, "Like what?"

I must have succeeded, because Bonnie launched into the topic with gusto. Clearly she'd been waiting to get this off her chest. "All sorts of crazy stuff. Like, apparently, I can see into the future." Her mocking tone left no doubt as to what she thought of that. "Woman's finally lost it, Elena."

"Can you?"

"What?"

I tugged at the seat belt. "See into the future?"

Bonnie glanced at me, brow raised. "If I could, don't you think I'd have a winning lottery ticket in my hand right now?"

"Maybe it doesn't work that way."

"Right." Skepticism dripped off the word. "Not very useful then, is it?"

"I don't know about that."

Bonnie shrugged. "Well, I did predict Heath Ledger. And Obama."

Oh, god. I remembered that line from the show. My mouth went dry and I wiped my hands down my jeans. I cast about for something to say. "How about Trump?"

"Huh?" Bonnie asked, glancing my way before the traffic light turned green.

"Never mind," I muttered before sinking further into the seat. Something about this… why did I remember this so well?

"O-kay." Bonnie shrugged the comment off. "Anyway, Grams says were descended from the Salem witches."

"There weren't any witches in Salem," I muttered.

"Right? That's what I told her. She just gave me this look and says, 'Not that they caught.'" Bonnie huffed. "Convenient, huh?"

"I guess." I glanced at her. "If there were really witches there, though, they probably would've used magic to escape."

"I guess." Bonnie frowned. "Don't tell me you believe Grams' cra—"

A black shape flew straight at the glass, thumping into the windshield. Bonnie and I let out startled shrieks as the thing suddenly disappeared over the roof of the car. Bonnie gave the wheel a sharp turn and slammed on the breaks. We hit our belts as the car came to an abrupt stop.

I didn't realize I was breathing so hard and fast until Bonnie's hand on my shoulder startled the ringing from my ears. "Elena? Oh my god. Are you alright?"

I took a slower, deeper breath. Ignoring the sudden sweat that had broken out over my forehead, I turned with a forced grin. "Yeah," I breathed. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yeah." My voice was stronger that time. "Just startled."

Bonnie collapsed into her seat. "I know!" She leaned forward and looked up at the windshield where a slight smear was the only evidence something had hit the glass. "I swear, it was a huge bird or something." She turned to me, eyes big and pleading. "I didn't see it."

I managed another shaky smile, rubbing a hand across my clavicle, where the belt had caught me. "It's fine. We're fine."

Bonnie frowned. "I know. I just—I figured—" She waved a hand, as if to encompass the whole of the car.

Right. The accident that killed Elena's parents. What had she said? "I, uh. I can't be afraid of cars forever."

I must have gotten it right, because Bonnie's answering grin was far more relaxed. She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. "I predict that this year is going to kick ass. And I predict that all the sad and dark times are over and you are going to be beyond happy."

I remembered that line. It was—so wrong it wasn't even funny. I summoned a smile for her anyway. It was a nice gesture, after all. "I hope so."

But a shiver traveled down my spine. It was real. Somehow, impossibly, it was real.

All of it.

I turned my head towards the passenger window and looked up to one of the signs lining the street.

A black crow looked back and cawed.

#fanfic #the vampire diaries #tvd #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #ofc #the more things change #damon x ofc #stefan x ofc #elijah x ofc #klaus x ofc #oc #elena gilbert #klaus #elijah mikaelson #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #jeremy gilbert #jenna sommers

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devilrev · 5 years

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re: nerokiri for that ship meme oFC.

who wakes up first in the morning.

varies ! typically, though, it would definitely be kyrie. nero would sleep - in, especially after completing jobs, weekends, or when there’s not much slated for the day. one of the few exceptions is prior to leaving for a job, he’ll wake at least a couple hours before kyrie and get whatever done he can to make the day easier for her before leaving.

who’s the first to fall asleep at night.

this is really hard to decide between. nero has difficulties falling asleep as is, mentally, and in a still sense he feels that a day concludes when kyrie is finally resting ; thus waiting for her, first. at the same time, i can see where in kyrie would wait for him, or provide comfort to him and his rest prior to going to sleep herself. it’s a bit of a cop - out answer, but i’d say it’s tied.

what they playfully tease each other over.

nero absolutely teases kyrie whenever he overhears her singing, something about her needing to make an album or pursue it, asking when they’ll reach a point of too many flowers, worrying too much about him ( though he absolutely appreciates it ). i can see kyrie teasing nero over constantly needing his jacket repaired from use, about him still being too gentle even though he has a typical arm, when he’ll read her poetry from the book he was given, being a bit of a greaser - type.

what they do when the other’s having a bad day.

ideally, if nero is home, just be with her. whatever she does, he’s beside her helping, taking lead if he’s needed. whether that’s to do with the kids, day - to - day activity, something in particular that caused it. massage the points of stress or tension from her injuries. &, unless absolutely end of the world dire situation, clear the the following day and take her some place she likes the morning after such a day. if not home, calls. always calling. certain agreed upon points, meals, before bed, etc. let her vent if needed, discuss.

how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments.

nero, being fairly sensitive to things, and bearing a lot of weight knows it’s best to shed it immediately. he’d ask her when she is comfortable to speak to him, and in a space between them, give her room, and explain himself. his rationale. how he felt, and, how he’s come to conclude that an apology was needed, and what he should do. he doesn’t bribe, he doesn’t gloss over it. it’s a very bare - bones, up - front discussion he does whenever something like it occurs. & will only close the distance for any physical contact when she herself is done speaking and accepts it.

which one’s more ticklish.

nero. i mean. come on. come on.

their favourite rainy day activities.

board games, just the two of them, finding new rules or ways to play so it’s still fun for them. music, whatever it is, something upbeat, light, or moody ( anything she herself sings ) shared between nero and kyrie, more intimate setting of just listening, talking, existing, etc. if there’s times when the kids are involved, playing hide - n - seek, playing a ‘ monster ‘ for them. generally, anything that can light something warm feeling for her on dreary days. oh, if her injuries have that tendency on days like those, tend to them as best he can. even if she says he doesn’t have to, he enjoys being able to alleviate some stress from her.

how they surprise each other.

nero is aware there are times he’s away for long, and knows sometimes surprises aren’t what’s best. calling ahead & telling her he’ll be home early, is a small one he likes to do. whenever he travels, if possible, getting her favorite type of flower, flavor of ice cream, etc. to bring back. if she shows interest in something, during his time on the van, he’ll use his phone to research it a bit, get involved and surprise her with a conversation on the topic. typically, and, realistically, it’s getting up earlier to cook something for her. do little, mundane things, as often as he can as small surprises throughout the days, weeks, months.

their most sickening shows of public affection.

nero throws the word ‘ babe ‘ and nicknames for her around whenever he can. with his new arm, too, will do his best to hold hands as often he can. doesn’t think twice on giving her his jacket, hoodie, etc. when mentioning the day being anything other than pleasant or warm. originally a way to get close, now, just ingrained, whenever sitting beside each other, has his arm over her shoulder and leans into her a bit ( or, her into him if she wants ).

ship prompt / / @hathmercy.

#hathmercy #highkey used that previous asks & aesthetics / stuff particularly associated on your blog to kyrie for this tbh sjdfhsjd #and some of your hc's / descriptors since theyre?? real good #✝ —— ETCHED. ❝ RESPONSE.#i should.... make a tag for them

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lunebinnie · 5 years

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(1/11)Oh my gosh yesss I'm glad that you like long messages too because I talk way too much 😂 (And yeah about my friend and just hanging out w/ her more that's exactly what I was thinking 😂) It's actually kind of funny bc just yesterday I was hanging out at her house and her younger brother needed to go to Walmart and I was like 'I've been meaning to go to Walmart, I'll take you' and ofc since I have a bluetooth radio adapter the whole drive I had my Spotify going with some quality k-bops, lol

2)And as we were driving I noticed him kind of jamming and I was like 'Oh my god Mickey do you actually like this???' And he was Like 'yeah, these are some good bops 👍' I was shooketh. I had to go home before I had the chance to show him any music videos but he says he's open to watching some with me next time I see him. One way or another I'm going to turn someone in my social circle into a kpop fan you mark my words ☝ and then maybe we can team up and try to work on his sister some more 😂

3)I only started first getting into kpop last June so I'm still very new, but it's definitely super frustrating how so many ppl act like it's an inherently bad or cringey genre of music just bc it's kpop! The stigma is ridiculous! I also started out with BTS (lol) and since they're pretty popular in the US at least I was able to be like 'See, this isn't just a niche thing, lots of people know abt and like this group' but of course my dad still says 'Just cause it's popular doesn't make it good'

4)And I'm like? You're a band teacher, you of all people should understand that music doesn't have to be in your native language (or even have lyrics) in order for you to enjoy it, but go off I guess... It's the same with one of my college friends. They make fun of me for liking kpop but this is coming from some who still treats March 22nd (the day My Chemical Romance broke up) as a day of mourning. Like, no tea no shade no pink lemonade, MCR was a good band nothing wrong with liking them.

5)But like if you're 22 and you still haven't grown out of your emo phase do you really have room to pick on other people for their music taste? 🤷 Anyway that's the person who follows my main that I didn't want to know I had a kpop sb. I think I made it around July. Tbh it was pretty dead for most of 2018. But like I said I've started using it way more since I recently revealed that it exists, lol. Especially since that good good Astro cb 👏💗😩 But honestly Astro is such a blessing

6)Idk how I lived so long w/o them. When I first got into kpop I was planning on just sticking to BTS since the reaction to me being into kpop was so volatile. I was like 'I'm only into one group, ppl already are negative about me liking kpop so I'm just gonna stick to this and not become a full on multifandom fan' and then in Nov I accidentally let myself fall in love with Monsta X and that plan was foiled. And realizing I wasn't gonna be able to stick to just one anymore opened the floodgates

7)And I was like okay in that case, let's just start getting into *all groups* Lol. My story of getting into Astro was actually bc of my best friend's roommate (can you tell I have like one friend and my whole social circle kinda revolves around her? Lol) so this roommate when she heard me being sad about having no kpop friends was like 'oh hey, I'm kinda into kpop' and it turns out she didn't like very many groups and was one of the ppl who blah blah BTS is overrated, which ya know isn't ideal8)But I was just really desperate to have someone to talk about kpop with. And Astro was her favorite so I was like, okay I'll get into them so that I have something to talk about with her! So I started watching some videos and I fell in love with them pretty much instantly! And I was real excited bc #1 now I can talk about kpop with someone! And #2 this group is actually amazing? Bonus! ... And then they got in a big fight about their living conditions and the roommate ended up moving out RIP

9)So that didn't work out, lol (Your story about finding them during that internship sounds amazing though! Haha) But yeah, so this is my first cb too! And although I love them w/ my whole heart and would have loved to have them in my life even sooner what an amazing cb to be your first! The concept was wonderful, the album was excellent, the visuals were to *die* for. They worked so hard and I'm so proud of them and I'm so happy we got to see their work come to fruition and get them a win 🤧🤧

10)The dance practices though? You're so right omg 💗 Me and my Rocky bias *fully* understand 😂 All of them are such good dancers?? I never fail to be impressed. Of course you know who I always end up watching tho 👀 lol (̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶l̶f̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶R̶o̶c̶k̶y̶'̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶o̶t̶w̶o̶r̶k̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶m̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶e̶y̶e̶s̶.̶.̶.̶)̶ ̶ I also love how at the end they always pause all dramatic for a minute and then start screaming 😂

11)It's like? Amazing talent *and* dorky personalities? What more could you ask for? Lol. In regard to your last question though Unfortunately I also won't be able to see them 😔 I live in the smack middle of the US and since they're only going to coasts all of the venues are way too far away to get to. Esp since it's the school year and I can't skip class to drive cross country for a concert much as I'd like to (Holy lord I talked over twice as much?? Why am I like this?) Talk again soon! -ASA

Okay SO I’m very sorry I haven’t had the time to answer everything until now bc I’ve been busy studying for midterms and also I was a lil trashy today since my uni closed bc of freezing rain so I slept in but I’m glad that FINALLY everything got sent like damn tumblr you really don’t want us making friends huh.

Yessssss I love the feeling of seeing someone else also get into the same interests! I’ve been pretty lucky in the sense that I grew up around mostly other asian americans, so kpop was never something that was considered super “weird,” like some people were into it and some weren’t but even if you weren’t you still would’ve been familiar with the more popular groups from when you were younger. Even now, I have a bunch of friends also into kpop (one of them is even my roommate) so tbh I was definitely the one in my friend group late to the party aha. Even my university hosts kpop nights at our bar and I’m pretty sure we have a kpop dance team as well? So tbh if I met someone new there’s probably like a 50% chance they’re into kpop or at least listen casually.

Tbh I used to be a little bit judgy too but moreso because of the obscene amount of money I’ve seen some of my friends spend (no joke one of my friends has spent probably like $500+ on Loona stuff in the past month and a half and another friend bought like 5 copies of the same album for herself like damn idk how do you have that much money).

I also really don’t like it when people bash other people’s music tastes, since I feel like it’s something so personal? Idk but for a long time I used to be really self conscious about sharing my music with other people and even now I feel like that sometimes. For me after getting into BTS I kind of expected to get really into other groups since I was in Korea anyway and I was already listening to a lot of other artists casually. For me it started with NU’EST (fell for them immediately at the same concert that I saw Astro at) and then after was Astro, and then I just started slowly getting into other groups after that (even though I haven’t totally been able to get into Got7′s music they’re SO funny and I just kinda fell for their personalities you know).

I honestly think that they did such a wonderful job with this comeback too! I like seeing their concept evolve and mature but they’re not straying too far from their original cute concept so I feel like it’s a nice middle ground that’s very unique to them, you feel? Also I feel like the visuals especially and the execution of the whole plant concept was just done so well?? Even my friend who’s not in kpop was like “k idk who they are but that was the prettiest music video I’ve ever seen”. What are your favourite eras and songs? For me I’d have to say either the Spring Up or Baby era BUT right now my favourite song is probably Again/Should’ve Held On though tbh my mood and my tastes change like every few weeks loool.

I have no idea why I tend to be most attracted to the dances rather than vocals or rap (maybe has to do with the fact that it’s something I’ve always wished I could do but have always been bad at lmao). But Astro’s stood out to me for the exact same reason! I just thought it was so funny seeing them all break character at the end because you really get to see how hard their choreos are and you get a glimpse of their personalities like damn, how can you not stan these dummies?

That’s really unfortunate that you won’t get to see them either :/ They’re also coming to the closest city to me but it’s on a Tuesday, but I *hypothetically* looked up flight prices and tried to see if I could get away with just missing a day of classes if I flew back in the middle of the night since I have some friends who did the same thing and drove down to Buffalo but I seem to have underestimated the size of New York State LMAO. But apparently my university’s too far from the airport so it’s “not realistic” (and also I’m hella broke from travelling to Taiwan and Japan while I was in Korea but that’s a minor issue ig). I hope we do both get a chance to see them live though! Who knows, after the success of this comeback I’m expecting a lot more cbs and world tours out of them ;)

#asa #Anonymous

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