I imagine if him and his brother are twins, today must be a pretty rough day for him. It makes me happy to see he's happy, though, and that he wants to involve us in something so important and heartfelt.
This has been in my drafts for like a month, and we need more Luca appreciation posts:
I couldn't sleep a while back and was in mouringmourning, having some real bad Big Sad™️ thoughts. So I opened Tokyo Debunker to try and take my mind off things.
Lucas, you precious knight.
He came home twice, first try. Like, twice in one ten pull. And I got his warding card, same pull.
Lucas is too pure for this world, man. Taking care of me through the screen like a gentleman. How dare he, smh.
I might be Lord Bertilak at this rate, because man do I want to kiss a knight LOL
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
For a pinch of context:
- Based on a rp's server version of Tohma and Romeo's relationship. (Soulmates where one always meets a tragic end).
- In this server, Taiga found out about Romeo being with Tohma and nonfatally shot himself to the reality anchor implanted in his chest to help satiate his hunger.
- An undertow is a layered expresso shot with two distinct layers: bitter, strong expresso, and sweet, mild cream with sugar. It is also the name of a type of current in the ocean.
- A demitasse glass is the small glass expresso is usually pulled into or served in. A Royal Albert is an antique teacup, but it takes a discerning eye to know which ones are antique and valuable, and which are modern makes recreating that style.
Fragile Things
- from Tohma's POV.
There’s a difference
In the way fractals wash
Across the crema of espresso,
And the way milk blooms
In the undertow of tea.
There is a difference
In the harsh grains of grounds
And delicate loose leaves
Of the sound of a groaning machine,
Pressing flavor from stone,
And the song of a spoon
Stirring sugar into a porcelain
Goblet. But while one is bitter,
And the other sweetened,
They are drawn up to our lips
All the same. They are our mornings.
And in my mourning, the kitchen
Lacks sugar, lacks aroma, lacks steam.
Your demitasse glass rests by my Royal Albert.
They each go cold. They will, for some time.
You see, I have started drinking water, now. It is easier
Than finding one beverage without the other,
Or leaving the shot loaded on the other side
Of our kitchen table. Of course it shall be
That shot that undoes me, down my throat,
Clinging to my breath; It is, in all ways,
The closest I can get to speaking your name
Without my voice breaking, airless.
But, you will not sit at the table.
It is little more than a piece of us,
One that can be transformed into the other,
And yet, so painfully devoid of our colors.
We were never quite aligned, but you
Still make up the most of me.
More coming soon!
Please feel free to request pairings or poem topics!
Just testing the waters, but, how would the fandom feel about poetry about/from the perspective of TDBK ships? I've done a couple and I'm really enjoying writing them, but I'm hesitant to put them on AO3 because they're not technically fanfic format? Not sure.
So far, the only Canon x Canon ship I've done is Romeo and Tohma, but if I do, I'd take requests and also allow oc x canon ones, too.
Anyways, thoughts? If you can reblog and spread the word, that would be super neat! <3
Would you like to see poetry about TDBK ships/plot?
Making a ghost oc while living I'm a haunted dorm room is a wild experience. Especially when my characters tend to hijack the keyboard when I write them.
I love plotting something for my little ghostie and then my doors slam shut, or dishes setting down on their own on my counter just, suddenly fall.
I can't tell if they approve or if they just want me to go to sleep.
I love the subtle detail that he breaks eye contact when he brings up his mother, but his posture doesn't change. The triangles in his stance and the lack of any noticeable shift away from a hand on the hip suggests this is one continuous thought for him, or that he already was thinking of his mother the moment he saw the flowers. There is no surprise there.
Only, the eyes are the windows to the soul. His voice is smooth and doesn't change, he's stating fact so why would he worry about that?
So either one of two things are crossing his mind:
- He doesn't want to see your reaction, and maybe, he's afraid of being pitied because someone else's softness might weaken him into sharing more about himself.
Or
- He is afraid you will see how much this has affected him. That he, no matter how cruel he tries to be to keep others at a strict distance, he still wants to be loved and love others. Especially his mother; he's been betrayed, according to his own perceptions of situations, by so many people— but his mother will always be his mother even if she is gone. If that softness can exist for someone in his bloodline, then there's a chance it could for someone outside his bloodline. And he can't let that happen again. It just hurts too badly to risk. He cannot bear to let someone think he can be cracked, and so, he puts on a mask, trying to convince you he's not that affected by it.
His words there are especially cautious, as well. He doesn't say he's planted them because they remind him of his mother. He only points it out because he seems to have noticed they caught your eye, and seemingly, you've asked why he chose to plant flowers in the snow. He also says mother and not mom, a way of putting distance between them. More syllables buy the brain time to think, more time for him to get control over himself.
But at the end of the day, he does still tell you. He doesn't know how to open the door, being afraid of trusting others. If he doesn't look at you when he opens the door, he can't tell if you'll come in as a caretaker and guest, or a murderer in the night; he can't see the basket or the knife.
If he keeps making commands, it's a little easier to separate what he wants from what he gets.
"Hurry up and get over here. Are you going to give me a hug or keep wasting my time?"
Really means
"I want to hug you, and I'm afraid I might change my mind and deem this out limits. Please hug me before I make myself afraid of this, too."
Anywho, this has turned into a rambling post.
I don't think I'm ever going to beat the stereotypes of English Majors/ Teachers reading too much into really small things.
Made Irintsu content because they remind my heart that it's a poet.
Me being cheesy as fuck below the cut. Steamy? Kinda?
So, I heard someone describing sex magic this way. Shame on past me for not leaving the account credits in the crop, will have to hunt it down, but:
Irina would happily whisper praises into Ritsu's neck, telling him how he isn't going to become the greatest because he already is. That he's not a work in progress, but instead, a success in motion.
She is reckless despite being smart enough to know better, but in him using Acimo, she understands how it must feel for him to watch her take such huge risks, and swears to be safer even if she doesn't need to, because she's already dead.
But she will become human. She seals her vows with kisses and promises him she will be human again, so her name exists, so she can provide him an heir if they ever decide to. So she can finally be like him, and a part of his world in the real way, and in a legal way too. After all, he already gave Irina her life back.
And even then, she would die and fight to be by his side in a heartbeat. She has nothing to fear except losing him, after all, and death nor fear could never come close to holding her back.
Their goals for life are similar, and they both hunger for knowledge. Though she may not sleep, she will ensure he does, when they study and push themselves too hard. She doesn't understand what it means to feel tired, so she simply keeps an eye on the clock. She'd shut her eyes to pretend she could as well, if it ensured his comfort.