#myusernameblows

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Renny, fren, how would the ROs react to being stuffed like animals?

I'm punting you both off the empire state building

[ophiuchus-interactive]

RENNYYYYYYYYYY

I kindly request some Ophelia content for my brain.

"You almost died and you're making jokes?" for my piece of shit MC?

Warning: Arguments, coarse language

The silence was maddening, suffocating, blisteringly heavy as Ophelia slammed open the medbay doors. Her palms stung from the force of skin upon metal, but she ignored it- her accusatory gaze focused solely on you. You jumped at the sound of her fury, causing you to wince in pain at the tenderness of the stitches that were still- aggravatingly- brand new.

"I don't understand," She spits out before you could even greet her, her home-world accent becoming heavier with every passing syllable, "I don't understand you, I don't understand how you're fucking alive, and I don't understand why you want so badly to be fucking-!" Ophelia punctuates her words by slamming her hand on table nearby, "-DEAD!"

It took a moment for you to quell your storm of emotions that felt ready to blow up right back to Ophelia. The chaos of your mind mixed with the physical pain of your shocked laughter, causing you to wheeze, and for Thane to briefly look up at you from his quiet leave at his desk in the corner. Ophelia's eyes widened, the pupils dilating into a dark, inky black. You ignored her shocked expression, and spoke through your heavy breath,

"Do you bitch to every single person who saves your skin, or is this pretty mug the only one you save your whining for?"

"My bitching is reserved for the dumbasses like you who think you're invincible! If you died, the gauntlet would cease functioning, without the gauntlet we have no way of finding the lost city, and no way of stopping them IF- not WHEN- they find it!"

"You know what, Ophelia?" You start, feeling poison drip from your lips and you relish in the way you cannot find a reason to stop yourself, "I'm so goddamn sick and tired of you talking about this stupid-" You pull at the machine engraved into your skin, "-fucking piece of junk! I just saved your fuckin' ass and this is how you pay me back? That's my thanks?"

"You're wrong," You seethe, "I don't want to die. I want you to stop being so fuckin' stupid. We might actually get something done around here than shove me full of tubes in this goddamn shithole of a fuckin' ship!"

.

.

.

The silence was maddening.

Heavy. Suffocating.

You scratch the stitches that bore into your skin.

"You know," Thane says quietly, the first thing he's said to you in hours after your fight with Ophelia, "you can be a real asshole sometimes, you know that?"

You look down at your skin, your body, your arms and hands. You feel that phantom noose around your neck.

"No," You say, your fingers mindlessly picking at your stitches, your head and heart completely numb, "you think?"

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Whether or not straight men deserve love, SOME OF US MAY NOT WANT IT RENNY

Blowie, my love, you're wrong and I'll prove it!

Under the cut!

Ophelia looks at you, and sees what could be.

It’s a strange thing, staring at your future. All around you is the rocking, relentless sea of the uncertainty that is the present. Time means everything and nothing. Possibilities pass you by like two ships would in the endless, fathomless deep.

It’s frightening, the way she’s drawn to you. Her heart feels an ache that Ophelia thought would be lost forever. Yearning, how long has it been?

How long has it been, in the currents and tides of the time that she sailed on, since she allowed herself to feel such a way?

Your eyes meet hers. A passing gaze, a simple quirk of the lip.

A lighthouse, bright, brilliant, blinding, guiding her home against such fearsome waters- warmth. A lover’s touch. A kiss goodnight. Footprints in the sand and glass in the sea-

And then she stops herself.

Love.

Could it be?

The love Ophelia knew were the jagged, sharp precipice of a harsh and rocky shoreline it was the snapping of bone and teeth and bloodied coral and stone it was the siren that bit flesh and sinew and cartilage and cold watery graves for the sailors who dared to believe such a beautiful lie.

All manner of men end in the frigid embrace of the siren. She knows. The shore was once her grave, too.

It’s a strange thing, being a dead sailor walking.

Sailing the sea in search of a lighthouse, safe passage home.

Guide me there, her heart whispers. Her sails have long since worn their use.

Guide me home, for the barnacle cling to me like tarnish to gems and stone. Seaweed covers my grave. How long has it been, Yearning?

Guide me home to you.

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Could I maybe have some Ophelia angst?

👉👈

Absolutely, darling!

Under the cut!

Ophelia stayed after Thane’s funeral, long after everybody else had left. A small box of his ashes were left on the table at her side, but Ophelia paid it no mind, for her eyes were on the sea.

The stormy, gray sky had twisted the clear waters of the Kal’Morran homeland to the color of ash. The waves rocked and smashed against each other, climbing further and further up the shore. The wind blew, and the thunder clapped and the rain poured, and poured; but Ophelia stayed behind.

She wonders briefly, if all the memories she has of all of them are enough.

Time...erodes. Like water. It takes and pulls and takes and rips everything from your heart and soul. You forget dates, smiles, faces, lovers- can they survive? Will time pluck them from her life, too?

Hope died first, and Ophelia’s found it harder and harder to remember their voice- was it always so high pitched? When Rosalie smiled, did she do it from ear to ear? What was that one joke that Javier said that Ophelia laughed really hard at, all those years ago? Was Sergio as tall as she remembers?

They were real, Ophelia said, demanding that the universe listen, they were real. They lived. They live on in me.

Lightning shattered the sky into millions of pieces, Ophelia’s eyes were reddened, her tears mixing with the heavy rain that had no end. Don’t take them away- don’t take my memories too-

What fresh, new hell is this? To live long enough to feel the memories fade from you?

Valerian smoked and Peter sang and Thane had gentle hands. What color were MC's eyes? Did Hawkeye ever smile?

Ophelia stayed until dark, out on the sandy shores of the Kal'Morran homeland. She was soaked and chilled to bone, her dress all but torn to pieces by the terrible, frigid wind; time meant nothing compared to the memories she was so desperate to recall, scared that for every single one there was, she was misplacing another.

Time ripped them all from her hands; and deep in her heart she knows that time will take them from her mind, too.

Who were they to me?

[ophiuchus-interactive]

The paste potatoes are the best part

no

[ophiuchus-interactive]

I know it was already the case, but Ophelia is just

Ugh

Ophelia is certainly the catch once you get past her barriers, darling!

[ophiuchus-interactive]

TIL I ALWAYS THOUGHT THEY WERE THE SAME THING

DROP BEARS ARE INDEED HORRIFYING, I'LL GRANT YOU THAT

BUT SUN BEARS ARE ADORABLE AND DESERVE LOVE

[ophiuchus-interactive]

DROP BEARS AREN'T SCARY THEY'RE ADORABLE

THAT'S A SUN BEAR AND THEY'RE STILL FUCKING FREAKY AS SHIT