I'm a fan of many things in my 30s. I have a lot of headcanons, plot-bunny and fics floating around, but I'm mostly a reblogger. In a lot of fandom, but my mains are definitely Kingsman and DMBJ/mystic nine but i'm currently down a bloodymary rabbit hole :) My fanfic Plot-bunnies up for adoption My Ao3 Also, prompters, please take note that I do not write any smut. I cannot write it even if my life depended on it.
so i was fully planning on working on wide awake counting stars or and the sun did not compare today but then i saw @lana-is-reading absolutely fantastic artwork and after getting permission to do so, i simply had to write something for it
i had lotsa fun writing this today so hopefully you'll all enjoy reading it too!
thank you again @lana-is-reading for inspiring this :D
title is from the song "Who Is She ?" by I Monster because well the song was suggested with the artwork, i had to listen to it while writing
a lost embrace
Every night, it always starts innocuously enough.
Grace is standing on the shore, staring at the horizon, gentle waves lapping at his shoes.
It's the kind of dream he's had often, even before the Eridians build him an ocean. Even before he woke up in space with no clear memories of how he had gotten there. Even before he's first learned anything about the Petrova line.
This is different however.
When he used to get similar dreams, his surroundings were just meaningless backgrounds conjured by his sleeping mind. No dream were exactly the same as the previous one.
Nowā¦ Now even though he can't explain how he knows it, he knows that it is exactly the same dream, night after night.
The same
strange
reoccurring
dreamā¦
Because while it starts normally enough, the way it progresses leaves him gasping for breath upon waking, as if he's just narrowly escaped drowning.
More and more, he wonders if that's not precisely what's happening.
So, the dream starts the same.
Grace standing on the shore, staring at nothing in particular, blue ocean deceptively calm.
What alerts him that something is coming from the depths, he cannot explain. It's not anything observable at first. It's more of a feeling. And as much as Grace does not like such subjectivity, there's no denying it.
Why else would he drop his gaze to the ocean moments before the hue starts morphing from vibrant blue to deep purple to unsettling red?
There's an animalistic instinct within him that urges him to flee. Something within that screams at him that he is prey and whatever is coming is predator.
He stays rooted in place.
Because there is another part of him warring with that same timeless instinct, something distinctly human that whispers that there is much more happening. It's not just his natural scientific curiosity coming into play either.
It's the same complex combination of emotions that makes him look down in the first place. It's that queer feeling of resonance that prevents him from running away when it becomes clear that the ocean has turned to blood.
It's when that realisation hits that a hand, tentacle, outgrowth limb reaches out for him. It grabs at the cuff of his pants and Grace is still stuck between two states, between fleeing and staying. He falls backward, landing ass-first into viscous crimson warmth. He barely even notices.
His whole attention is focused on what is emerging in front of him with its maw gaped around large serrated teeth.
It's
horrifying
lonely
monstrousā¦
He can't possibly begin to describe what he is looking at, not if he wants to keep his sanity intact. He can't, not without getting the terrible impression that it is all some unspeakable distortion of himself.
But no. That would be complete arrogance.
This is definitely something completely separate from him.
The proof of that is in its bottomless gaze.
In the dark eyes that have started haunting even his waking hoursā¦
Those he can describe.
Beautiful.
At that point of the dream, there is no sound to be perceived. It reminds Grace of space. Somehow, even knowing he's still lying in the sand and ocean-turned-into-blood, the comparison doesn't feel wrong.
The easy explanation would be that this is simply because it is part of a dream. After all, a dream doesn't need to make sense. But that doesn't feel right.
It doesn't explain how Grace ā even without sound, even without any words shared ā how Grace can still understand him.
Understand how he would beg night after night.
Come, he begs Grace, voiceless. Find me.
And before Grace can reply ā before he can make a choiceā¦
Grace wakes up gasping in his bed on Erid, the distant sound of waves crashing on the artificial shore definite proof that he's no longer in the dream.
He wakes up and stays still, catching his breath and doing his best to ignore the metallic tang in the air. He stays still, feeling the echo of his alien loss in his own slowing heartbeat. Feeling lost.
Unlike dreams from before, this dream-
(the same
strange
reoccurring
dream)
-doesn't get clouded into mist. No matter how long Grace stays awake, the-
(horrifying
lonely
monstrous)
-details do not lose their sharpness.
It takes weeks before Grace finally mentions it to Rocky. Weeks before he admits he's started to believe he's being hunted. Or even, possibly, haunted.
By then, there is no more ignoring the smell of iron whenever he wakes up. No more ignoring the nosebleeds.
No more ignoring that there is something wrong with him.
And yet, when Grace tries to explain the dream, only one word passes his lips.
Iām proud to identify as morosexual. Iām attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. A guy asked me what the Spanish word for tortilla was once and now I dream of kissing him under the moonlight
So there's the idea of "kitchen table poly," AKA "everyone in the polycule needs to be able to sit at a kitchen table together and get along like friends."
One of my roommates just came up with a counter idea, which is "poker table poly." Everyone in the polycule must be enemies. No one is allowed to get too chummy or they're kicked out. They all also likely owe eachother money.
I legitimately think the first video game to ever say the word "bisexual" out loud was Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty. There is a nonzero chance it was actually the first video game to print "bisexual" in a text format.
Based on what I found, the first ever bisexual character in a video game was Curtis Craig from Phantasmagoria 2 (1996) but I have yet to find out if he says the word "bisexual" in the scene where this is revealed
I once again have to point out for those who've never played mgs2 he says this when asked if another character that goes by the name of vamp is a vampire
