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reki-of-the-valley · 2 years ago

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You Are in Love

Read it on AO3 here!

1 - You Are in Love

It’s the way Langa is crouched, the way his weight is shifted forward to his toes. It’s the way he smiles, the way his fingers fiddle with the buttons of the little pink coat. It’s the way Chihiro is standing as straight as she can, her chin tilted up. It’s the way the scene plays out, the way Langa, Langa who had always been so wary around the twins, now seems so comfortable. It’s as if he’d always been here, always been in this entrance, always helping around the Kyan household. It’s the way he fits in so well, as if he has always been a part of this family.

“Need help, Reki?”

Reki has to shake himself out of his trance, the rest of the world coming back to him. Chihiro is there, slipping her shoes on while Nanaka is waiting by the door, a grin that matches Reki’s. The sun is high, rays streaming through the glass panels of the door. The weather is perfect for a walk with the girls to the ice cream parlor; not too warm, but still not cool enough to not want ice cream. And the girls can’t wait, Nanaka already rambling away about all the ice cream flavors she wants to try.

“Well?”

A breath catches in Reki’s throat as Langa stands there, his fingers twisting around the strings of his yellow hoodie. His smile is soft, just like when he had been buttoning up Chihiro’s coat. There’s a peek of his teeth, pretty and white, between his ever so slightly parted lips. And the sunshine catches in the blue of his eyes, leaving them with a shimmer Reki’s never seen before. But there’s no time to linger on that, not when Nanaka’s fingers curl around Reki’s.

Everything goes fast from there: a sweater hastily thrown over his hoodie, the back of his shoe squashed under the weight of his heel, a wallet grabbed from the top of the show cabinet. Everything goes so fast: Nanaka and Chihiro running ahead, the path already memorized, the sound of Langa’s laughter filling the autumn air, another joke breaking up his laughter. If this is what it means to have a normal life, Reki’s ready for it. He doesn’t need the uncertainty that the past had handed him. He doesn’t need any of that, not when he can have this.

“Really, Reki, we can stop for a second to let you put your shoes on properly.”

“It’s fine, man. Anyway, the twins would kill me if I made them wait any longer.”

Langa shrugs before turning away from Reki. He looks ahead, hands in his pockets as he kicks a stone along the road. He looks older like that, his eyes riveted on the two girls ahead of them. He looks older like this, reminding them to not run too far head and to stay together. He looks older; his hair has grown a little, almost brushing his shoulders now, and his jaw seems sharper than it had before. His bare arms, they seem stronger, a little more toned. Maybe it’s from all the lifting they’ve been doing at work, from all those boxes that need to be pulled from the back to the front of the shop. Reki isn’t sure why he’s noticing all of this now, noticing the curve of Langa’s nose, the scabs by his ear, the squareness of his shoulders. Reki isn’t sure why he’s noticing any of this, things that have always been there. But these observations weight heavy on Reki’s chest. They weight heavy, but he doesn’t dare say anything. He can’t break the silence, not now.

Langa’s shoulder brushes against Reki’s, drawing his attention to something other than Langa’s build. It brings him to his eyes, always bluer than the ocean on the horizon, to his nose, pointing ahead, to his lips, tugged into a smile. Then, words spill, always in that velvety voice of his.

“Look up.”

And Reki complies; he always does.

It’s there, beautiful as ever. The sun sets, slow and careful. It’s gentle as it finds its way into the water, reds and oranges and purples swirling in the waves that crash over one another. The rays are tentative, as if afraid to break something that’s new yet has always been there. The sun does as it always has; it doesn’t change and it never will, but today, it feels different. It seems slower as it falls, almost as if it were asking for the ocean’s permission, asking the water to catch it. Will the ocean catch the sun? Will it hold on to every ray, cherish the warmth they provide? Reki hopes it will; he hasn’t known a better pair than bright sunshine and gentle waters.

The ocean is gentle as the waves intertwine with the rays of sunshine. And as Langa looks back at Reki, that smile so soft as his pinkie locks with Reki’s, Reki knows he’ll be caught. He knows this is right; nothing has been broken, not now, not ever. This is the way they were meant to find each other. This is the way the universe had set them up: strangers, friends, this. This is what Reki has always dreamed of; this is what he wants; this is what he needs.

“C’mon,” a little tug from Langa, his fingers shifting to find their home between Reki’s, “we should hurry before the twins order the entire store to go.”

---

2 - He Is in Love

The morning is quiet, rays of sunlight filtered through the crack to the curtains. Still, the room is dark, and it’s colder than what Reki is used to. He has to pull the blanket up to his neck rather than have it bunched up at his ankles like he’s used to. And when he rolls over, he knows why.

The bed isn’t his. The room either, even if bits of him hang on the walls and sit on the shelves. He finds pieces of himself in the space between these four walls, but it’s still not his space, at least not completely his. It’s Langa’s room, so much is obvious as he sits up in the otherwise empty bed. It’s not crowded enough to be his own; the same could be said about the air that hangs in the apartment, nothing but distant chatter ringing in Reki’s ears. It’s missing the chaos of his house, the screaming and the tumbling of siblings first thing in the morning.

It’s almost strange walking through the small apartment. Reki knows the place like the back of his hand, but it’s still so disorienting to wake up in someone else’s bed, even if it’s far from the first time it has happened. It’s like walking through the streets of a new city; it’s so similar to home, and yet, it’s nothing like it. But when he finally steps into the kitchen, when he’s hit with that smell of smoke and the sound of curses, Reki knows he’s home. He’s home, and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

It’s funny to see Langa like this, picking at the toaster. Langa, who’s usually so calm and composed, he’s so far from that perfect image Reki had once had of him. Now, in the morning light of reality, Langa’s just like any other dork who can’t cook to save his life. He’s ridiculous as he curses at the toast, if it can even be called that. It’s so burnt, so scorched, that Reki wonders if there’s any bread left under that crust of char.

One thing’s for certain: he could not be paid enough to eat that monstrosity.

“Stop laughing!”

Blue eyes are wide, staring at Reki as he doubles down laughing. How can he not laugh? How can he stay serious at the face Langa is making at him? How can he ever stop laughing when he’s with Langa, the same Langa so many people misinterpreted? How can Reki ever keep his laughter to himself when he gets this Langa, Langa who isn’t a prince, Langa who isn’t distant and mysterious? How is he to not laugh and grin when he has Langa, his Langa, goofy and dorky and adorable?

“How did you manage to burn your toast in a toaster, dude?”

The bubbling laughter slowly dies down, falling to a giggle, then a chuckle, before ending in a simply grin. It’s hard to stop smiling around Langa, but thankfully, he doesn’t ask Reki to wipe the look off his face. If anything, he joins him despite biting his lip, trying his best to conceal the sheepish smile.

“I… I forgot it.”

“Did’ya space out again?”

Langa huffs, pushing the toast filled plate across the counter. It’s so strange seeing all these emotions play on Langa’s face, emotions Reki didn’t even know him capable of. They play like a movie on Langa’s face, jumping from one scene to another. Frustration, embarrassment, dejection, and something new, something strange as he gets closer to Reki.

There’s a glisten in his eyes, bluer than Reki’s ever seen them. They almost sparkle under the soft lighting of the kitchen. That look, it’s so far from that night, the one Reki wakes up gasping from. They’re so far from that night, the night Reki thought he had lost it all. Now, they have it all. Everything that had haunted Reki for weeks, it has vanished. That night, it was a lifetime ago, an age Reki barely remembers anymore. All that matters is here, it’s now.

“You look cute in that.”

It’s a surprise, the arms around Reki’s waist and the compliment to his ear. It’s not something he’s used to, especially not from Langa. Sure, he’s always been forward, but still, Reki isn’t used to this type of forward. He’s not quite used to the hugs, the flirting, the sappiness. He may get a Langa very few know of, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still retain the old Langa, the public Langa, the Langa that feels so unobtainable.

“Hope you like it, it’s literally your shirt.”

The chuckle is cute as Langa drops his head onto Reki’s shoulder. So, he’s given up on trying to cook; maybe they can go out for breakfast, or better yet, they can order something in. And maybe they should get something for Nanako; she shouldn’t be out for too long, not on a Sunday. But while she’s gone, well…

It’s sweet, the taste of Langa’s lips against Reki’s. Really, there isn’t much that can compare to this, to the way Langa smiles into the kisses, almost laughing into them. And with every kiss, Reki feels the butterflies erupt from their cocoons; he feels the flutter in his lungs and chest. Kisses from Langa wasn’t something Reki had ever expected, but now, he doesn’t think he can go without them.

One leads to another and another after that. They’re dizzying, leaving him lightheaded as he wraps his arms around Langa’s neck to steady himself. The world spins, fades, and leaves nothing but Langa and his sweetness. Maybe it’s the honey on his lips, or the chocolate on his tongue, but Reki’s pretty sure it’s just Langa. That’s just what Langa tastes like; sweet and addictive.

“Reki…”

His voice is low, raspy almost. Maybe he’s also breathless from the kisses, a little too caught up in the moment. Or maybe that’s just the way Langa sounds after he’s been kissed senseless; Reki isn’t proud to admit it, but stopping was a little more difficult than he had anticipated. But when Langa drops his head back into the crook of Reki’s neck, the world returns, colors other than blue reappearing around him.

“Reki, you’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

Such a statement is nothing new to Reki, but hearing it now of all times, it does something to him. He isn’t sure what it is, but he feels the pang in his chest. It’s nothing like the butterflies he had felt. It’s nothing like that. This pang, it means something else. He doesn’t feel lighter from the words, but at the same time, it’s lifts something that he hadn’t known was weighing him down.

This feeling, this reminder, it means everything to Reki. It’s everything to Reki because it means that every ghost that had once haunted him, that every insecurity that had locked into his closet, they fade. They fade because they mean nothing now. No fear can be greater than this statement. Nothing can be greater than knowing that he’s not alone. Because now, from now until the end of forever, Langa will be there. Langa will stand by him, never leaving him to face his demons alone.

The hug is automatic. There is no other possible response to the statement. There’s nothing else he can do besides holding Langa close to his chest, keep him where he wants him. A hug and a nod are all Reki can manage, and it’s enough. It’s enough for Langa to know it too. It’s enough.

---

3 - True Love

The skatepark is empty besides the two boards left unattended by a rail. There’s not a soul other than the two boys, legs dangling off the back of the ramp, a water bottle to their left and a carton of fries between them. They’re silent, each scrolling on their phone as they pick absent-mindedly at their food. Another Friday afternoon, just like so many others.

Or at least, it should be like every other Friday. There’s nothing different, at least, not on the surface. They’re in their spot, far from the rest of the world. It’s just them, as always, but there’s something weighing down on Reki. There’s something that lingers in the air, something that’s been choking him up all day. It’s there, he knows it, he just doesn’t know how to address it. Talking about things that aren’t skating, it’s not easy, not for Reki.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he swipes through his camera roll. Every one of them holds a memory, usually one that has to do with Langa. There’s a selfie, or two, or three, or twelve. There’s a video of Langa skating, or, once again, twelve. And there are pictures of the sunset, of a stray cat, of birds in the sky, yet they still remind him of Langa. He can hear Langa through the pictures, hear his laughter, hear his chatter, hear his breathing. Because Langa is in every one of these pictures, whether he’s visible or not. He’s in every single picture, in every memory Reki holds of the past year or so. Langa, Reki realizes, has become a staple of his life, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Especially not when Langa’s head is dropping onto his shoulder, blue eyes pointed up at him.

“Whatcha looking at?”

“Just going through my pictures, see what I can delete.”

Reki knows he won’t be deleting anything; he doesn’t want to forget any of his moments with Langa. He wants to keep building these moments, not get rid of them. But saying that out loud, who knows what kind of waterfall of words would spill from his mouth afterwards. And he can’t risk that. Not before he’s figured out exactly how he wants to say it. These words, he can’t mess them up. They need to be perfect. So, until then, they will be silent.

The evening goes by as it always does: a few tricks here and there, a lot of laughing, a few scraped knees and palms. It’s another Friday evening, just like so many others. It’s another Friday evening, until they head home, still in silence.

“Reki, is everything alright?”

Reki hums as he readjusts his bag on his shoulders.

“You just…” Langa pauses, stopping under a streetlamp. “You haven’t talked much today. So… is everything alright?”

Reki wants nothing more than to wipe away the worry that coats the blue of Langa’s eyes. He wants nothing more than to replace it with their usual shine, the one paired with the brightest grin Reki’s ever known. He wants nothing more than Langa’s happiness; if he could go another lifetime without ever having to worry, that would be how Reki would want it. He wants to remember Langa’s smile, memorize the curve of his lips and the creases at the corner of his eyes. None of that worrying that pulls his features in all the wrong ways.

“Don’t worry, dude. Everything’s perfect. Just been a long day, y’know?”

Langa nods, but he shows no sign of continuing his way down the road. He nods, but he expects more. He wants Reki to talk, to release whatever it is he’s holding in his heart. He wants Reki to talk, to spill, to let it all out. And even if it’s ugly, Reki knows Langa will take it. Even if it’s far from perfect, Reki knows Langa will smile, grin even, as he drinks Reki’s every syllable.

“Well, I mean…”

They hear it in the silence, the wait of Reki’s unspoken words. The silent words, they hang heavy in the air. And the more Langa stares, the more Langa waits with that beautiful look upon his face, the more Reki hesitates to say it. It won’t break them, far from that, but being the first to vocalize it, being the first to put it out there, it’s scary. It could ignite a fire, a flame that could leave a trail of beauty for Reki to memorize on Langa’s face and body, but it might also be a flame that burns the whole thing down. If he does this wrong, who knows what the future will look like for them.

Perhaps it would have been better if Reki had been a better liar, better at concealing the feelings fluttering in his heart. If he had been able to pretend there was nothing there, or pretend he didn’t expect the words to come to him first before parroting them back, maybe he wouldn’t have found himself in this situation. But if he had been better at conceal his feelings, at keeping them close to his chest rather than out for the world to see, then maybe he wouldn’t have found himself under the brightest moon, standing in front of the prettiest boy he’d ever seen. If he had been different, then maybe he wouldn’t be here today. He wouldn’t be standing in front of a boy whose eyes are filled with beauty and adoration, lacing their fingers together.

“I guess I just wanted to say…”

It’s now, or it’s never, Reki knows that. He’s started. He can’t stop.

“I’ve actually been thinking so much about this lately. Like, I can’t sleep from how much I think about it. So, like…”

Langa stares in anticipation, his shoulders caving inwards as his fingers tighten around Reki’s. He’s biting back a smile, Reki knows this. Maybe Langa’s just as bad at this as he is.

“Langa.”

He’s shaking. Or maybe it’s Langa who’s shaking. Or maybe they’re both shaking. Reki can’t tell. He doesn’t care.

“Langa, I love you.”

#in celebration of 1989 (TV) coming out #I literally just pumped this shit out while listening to You Are in Love because it was just rattling in my brain the entire time #had to get it out #Also look at that!!! I wrote some Renga!!!!!#ok tagging time it's been a hit minute #kyan reki #reki #reki kyan #sk8 reki #langa #langa hasegawa #sk8 langa #hasegawa langa #renga #snowgear #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #lils writes

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squidpro-quo · 4 months ago

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aftermath

Did he mean it? What did he mean by it? He was expected to be the best, in anything his father set him to, and Gaku had done everything to reach the ever moving goalposts of that expectation. He’d won as much as he could, but there were more than a handful of times when he’d lost and those occasions weren’t marked by anything except frustration and a dread of his father finding out. What did it mean that he wanted Ryuu to win, and even more than that, to make Gaku lose by it?

Seeing Ryuu squeeze the grip tester, his bicep straining at the effort expended, was like a switch being flipped. Gaku had already done his attempt, his fingers were still regaining some of their blood, and he knew this was what it looked like to do better… but obliterated? There was more to that request.

It built inside of him, an energy that even getting second in the shuttle run couldn’t dissipate, the thrum of it settling into his bones and leaving him antsy as he watched Ryuu during the vault jumps. That someone so tall could jump that high was unfair, but what was even more unfair was that the realization dawning on him would have to wait.

It would have to wait through the tug-of-war, imagining the colossal strength on the other end of the rope, and through the tail chase game, the satisfaction of seeing Ryuu fall for his bait. It waited, stirring inside until it was finally safe to let it go and hope that the brief look of intensity wasn’t something that only applied to sports.

He tugs on the ribbon still tied around Ryuu’s head as they finish up in their dressing room, Tenn already drawn aside by Riku before they’d even reached the right hallway.

Ryuu looks up, eyes still bright and focused, and Gaku wants to feel it turned on him, not as a part of a team, just him alone against everything Ryuu can muster.

“All those different tests and they didn’t have weightlifting.” They’d done weight training before, to gain the muscle that settled on Ryuu so well and that just barely stayed on Gaku, and he didn’t have to imagine much to guess what it would’ve looked like. But he was never one to let things go when he was faced with a challenge, even one he invented himself.

“We could add one next time,” Ryuu said, shrugging.

“What about wrestling? Now?” Gaku didn’t wait for the inevitable surprise, pulling Ryuu to his feet while he was still pliant and locking their fingers together so that Ryuu couldn’t let go. “Come on!”

He pushed against Ryuu’s hands, his blood singing at the thought of a competition.

“But we could—”

“Just quickly, like arm wrestling,” Gaku pleaded, pouring his effort into one good push that sent Ryuu back a step. He could see the shift in the next second as Ryuu squared up properly, fingers tightening on Gaku’s hands and the smile that was always so game to try something silly dawned across Ryuu’s face.

Gaku gave it his all, feet braced and even the wall at his heel to try and give him a chance, his arms aching from the day’s fun but he needed to know.

Gaku wants to say he hung in there, that he gave Ryuu a run for his money, but the next second had his back against the wall, hands pinned and Ryuu’s chest pressed against his from the sheer momentum of his defeat. So that’s what it meant.

That’s what he’d meant, to be crushed so soundly that his breath was coming fast and all he could feel was the weight against him and he wanted more.

Ryuu started to retreat, but Gaku arched up and caught him by the lips, pulling him back in. Hands released, he despaired at that being the end of it even as he kept his eyes shut, but fingers dug into his thighs and he slid up the wall until Ryuu stepped in to fill the gap, shoulders a new resting place for Gaku’s arms.

“Running circles around me…. And not just once.” Gaku could feel Ryuu’s tongue forming the words, the rumble of them against his stomach and their meaning pressed into his skin with a firm grip.

“No mercy,” Gaku murmured. He’d set the trap and it worked, he was satisfied with his own capture.

#idolish7 #yaotome gaku #tsunashi ryunosuke #gakuryuu #i'm sorry i've had this rattling around in my brain since before valentine's since i saw those lines and i finally got it out #also always cracks me up when i see that one omake where ryuu says gaku and tenn have small butts and can squeeze #while gaku tries so hard to bulk up too and whether that's bc of a personal motivation or a directive of his father's #set out as impossible but as always a bar gaku feels he has to surpass #but obviously he's better suited to endurance and stamina than sheer strength just leave that to ryuu dude #and he needs to deal with his competitiveness anyway and inability to engage without making it a competition #have some fun lol if this is what it takes then that's what it is #ryuu's perfect for obliterating #my writing

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mythicalwatch101 · 2 years ago

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HELLO. I AM HERE TO TALK ABOUT KROMER/CANTO 3

kromie is one of my Favorite characters Of All Time and if i see one more person horribly misinterpret her & her story & her motivations i am for real going to distort

FIRST AND FOREMOST

CANTO 3 ISN'T ABOUT ABLEISM

(it's not about racism either. she's not "cyborg racist". god damn it.)

canto 3 is about

religious extremism & societal pressure

PROSTHETICS IN THE CITY ≠ DISABILITY

prosthetics in the pm world are pretty obviously NOT the same as prosthetics in our world, and using them to point towards kromer being ableist is one of the weakest arguments i have ever seen in my entire life. give me ONE piece of evidence of kromer being ableist that doesn't mention prosthetics i fucking dare you

look at that. it's not about needing a missing arm replaced, or legs that you can walk on; it's about doing away with all of the inefficiencies of a flesh and blood body. you can get so much more work done if you don't need to eat or sleep!

unfortunately, there are many ways to be ableist and if she truly was, to the point where it was an important part of her character with an entire canto centered around it (like hating pm-prosthetics is), then i feel like maybe

just maybe

she would express this in other ways

that don’t involve slaughtering people that just happen to be made of metal.

just a thought.

which brings me to my next point

Prosthetics in the City are about class and money and the societal pressure i mentioned earlier

UNNECESSARY PRESSURE TO CONFORM TO THE AESTHETIC

WORTHLESS SURGERIES THAT POOR PEOPLE CAN’T AFFORD AND YET FEEL THE NEED TO GET ANYWAY

SINCLAIR’S BODILY AUTONOMY BEING STRIPPED AWAY FROM HIM SO THAT HE MATCHES HIS FAMILY

sinclair's family even turned their DOG into a robot for god's sake

it's a fad! it's cool to turn yourself into a robot! it's the new thing everyone is doing, so now you have to do it too to fit in with everyone else! even sinclair himself acknowledges this when talking about his family

also adding a ruina screenshot from this post i saw a while ago that i think you all should read

was hesitant to include it because i wanted to make my point without dragging ruina into this, to prove that you don't NEED the context from ruina to understand kromer's beliefs and motivations, but like. look at this. what the fuck.

"adjust emotions" "completely shut off desires" look me in the eyes and tell me this has ANYTHING to do with disability. i dare you. this is some rich people shit

prosthetics are a LUXURY for some, and a TOOL for others; something for rich people to enjoy, and for poor people to either get a shitty version of, or to sell their soul to afford, so that they can survive in the capitalist's dream world! kind of reminds me of cars, actually

(the extra info abt prosthetics from ruina helps, but as someone who has mostly only played limbus & doesn’t have the full context of the other games, it’s obvious even to me that they're not a disability thing)

in conclusion;

kromer is not ableist

she just really really really likes flesh and is super weird about it

to paraphrase/add to something someone said in that post i linked earlier: the district has an "ideal form" for the human body, and kromer has an "ideal form" for the human body, but these "ideal forms" are not the same

she prefers the human body the way it is, and when she sees this "ideal form" that's like the exact opposite of HER "ideal form" starting to take over, she resorts to being a violent bloodthirsty cult leader about it because she sucks ass and is incapable of being normal

she is a bad person and you are allowed to hate her ofc but please for the love of god hate her for something she’s actually done. stop making shit up

#just like my earlier post about dante my thoughts are very jumbled and disorganized #and i wrote this out of order and then pieced it all together in a way that i hope makes sense #so if the pacing or the order things are written or whatever seems weird that's why #limbus company #project moon #long post #myth posts #i've had this rant rattling around in my brain for a while but i'm only writing & posting it now because i've reached the #''too many people are misinterpreting my fav'' breaking point. i can't take this anymore. augh #kromie i'm so sorry people are misinterpreting you like this. get behind me i'll protect you

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possamble · 1 year ago

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jesus im backed up on work

#possramble #im putting an immediate stop on all fic writing and in-depth marcilleposting until may lol sorry #too bad for me i just had another pwp idea that's rattling my brain #marcille starts taking a few hours to do full-body tans just bc she realized she's getting weird neckline tans in the summer #and she'd rather not have that when it's so hot out and she's cycling through her low neckline dresses #but of course. falin walks in while she's lounging naked on her balcony covered in tanning oil #first time i'll be using 'clothed top naked bottom' if that's even a tag #anyway. i did finally figure out what i want to do with the next chapter of a little creature so that's a relief #also thank you for the tips LMFAO i just need to fight off the urge to use them for stupid takeout orders

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felisgalactus · 7 months ago

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*you can’t see what’s behind the lenses. Nobody can tell what it’s thinking.

*it’s eyes are fixed on you. You wish it would look away.

*darkness pours from its eye and fills the room. It shows no sign of stopping.

#some creatures I’ve had rattling around in my brain for a while #I don’t really have any lore for them other then them being Entities of some sort #the first one is an abstraction of my fursona. or something #my art #fursona #technically #pixel art #8 bit art #oc #should I tag it undertale like it’s clearly inspired by it. eh why not #undertale #art #procreate #digital art

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torterragarden · 2 years ago

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My unpopular opinion: The MK community has always had a huge issue w/ how it treats women, but I think it's gotten worse with MK1(2). The tags are filled to the brim with stuff of the men but hardly anything with women. Just the occasional Mileena post.

Maybe it's just me and my own experience, but before this game, there was WAY more ppl loving the ladies than now

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

I've felt that too. It's very typical of fandom but somehow it feels especially egregious this time and I wasn't sure if that was just me. Like it's a struggle to find any content that isn't about male characters in some way. Mileena has the most but it's still not even that much. And yeah people can do what they want and talk about the characters they like I'm not trying to stop them (and it's not like I couldn't make my own content) but like. It's frustrating is all. And transparent

#it does feel like there was more love for the ladies in past games idk what changed but it feels like something changed #i have had a kitana fic rattling around in my brain for a while maybe i need to start writing that #i should do my part #anyway thanks!#ask #teakettlez

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novelistparty · 1 month ago

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is this anything

#I had to use one while making dinner and then the name it kept on rattling around in my brain so here it is #enjoy #anaking skywalker #star wars #my bad photoshopping #my edit #edit #my blog

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kermdoeswriting · 3 months ago

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Don't Call Me That

Dick isn't entirely sure what it is about their newest teenaged recruit Phantom, but the guy absolutely gives him the creeps.

He knows it isn't the implication of a realm of ghosts being a real thing, no matter how much that implication has rattled his brain. But it is something, something else.

There was just some kind of certain air surrounding Phantom that tended to put Dick on edge whenever they're near each other.

It also doesn't help that the guy has the tendency to do things normal people wouldn't really do. Things like talking to the empty air like he's having a genuine conversation or staring off into one spot of the room like a cat watching a corner of the wall while hunting.

Things like bringing sudden chills to Dicks skin whenever he passes by or the way he seems to constantly breathe out cold air like a dragon for the fun of it.

Dick has caught him doing all of these things multiple times and most times, despite scaring him slightly, they were just harmless things about his newest team-mate.

But right now it wasn't really about that at all. Right now he's more annoyed than afraid of him.

For some reason recently, Phantom has been greeting him by his old hero persona rather than his new one. And its been eating at Dick every single time it happens, being reminded of the time he had first switched costumes and names to distance himself from Batman as a whole.

Except this time the person saying it had never even MET him in his original suit, so having Phantom calling him Robin was aggravating him faster than any of the other more important issues he should be dealing with were.

Dick originally attributed to it possibly being some sort of hero worship that he was going through, an attempt to impress him with his past history as knowledge. God knows, Tim wasn't any better when he had first met the poor kid at his doorway all those years ago.

But then Phantom had revealed that he hadn't even known Gotham was a real city nor did he know who Batman was up until a few months ago. That had set Dicks mental alarm bells off all over again.

It was weird all over and since it was just outright weird, Dick had decided to pull him aside to talk to the younger teen about it.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't call me by that name, Phantom" He had started off, watching as Phantom went through confused faces to figure out what this conversation was about. Dick just continued on.

"The name, Robin, is just really special to me and my family. And I stopped going by that name years ago, it would feel wrong to be called that again when I've outgrown it."

Phantom looked less confused now as it seemed to click altogether about what he had been talking about. The teen tilted his head at him, looking over him for a second before doing another one of his cat stares at the dead air behind him.

Dick just sighed for a moment but watched as Phantom came back into focus and genuinely looked somewhat apologetic.

"I'm sorry," Phantom started off sheepishly, eyes looking towards the floor for a second before looking back at his. "I didn't know you both went by that name at some point. I had mostly been greeting the little ghost attached to your side, not you, sir"

Dick froze at the wording, looking at Phantom with wide eyes. Phantom just continued without even looking at him.

"He always seems to be around you a lot and he was excited when he realized I could see him so I started greeting him whenever he was with you. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfy doing so."

Dicks breath hitched a bit before eventually choking out all the questions he had trapped in his throat. The suddenness made Phantoms eyes land back on his face again.

"What... What little boy? Did he say his name? What was he wearing?"

Phantom tilted his head again at Dick, looking more confused at Dicks confusion.

"What do you mean? It's Robin wearing the Robin costume?"

Phantom suddenly looked over to the dead air behind him again for a second, nodding his head and humming a bit before turning his attention back to Dick.

"He told me to say 'Big Bird you're such a dolt' to you. I don't know what that means but-"

Dick couldn't hear anything else Phantom was even saying to him. His breathing stopped and all he could feel was a small chill behind him, seemingly surrounding him in a small way that reminded him of a certain boys hug.

"Jason?"

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