Long old A/N at the end of the fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the pairings that I've alluded to and/or the fiction that they come from.
Drabble. Incoherent(?) thougths and mindless rambling. 533 words.
And it's here. It's here that we realize that we were always doomed, that there was never anything there.
Well, everything was there, but we couldn't see it. Or maybe we decided not to see it. Or maybe we saw it and tried to make it clearer and only ended up losing ourselves in this fog of love.
Lust.
Love.
Lust.
Love.
Loust
Luove.
It doesn't make sense, but it's not supposed to. Try as we might, this was never real. There might have been hints, and perhaps those hints were expounded upon by angry/crazy/obsessed/rabid fangirls, but they were only hints. Nothing more, nothing less.
Doom. We can hear it ringing in our ears, see it in each other's eyes, feel it in the rumbling of beating hearts and tangled clothes and perspiration mixing to the point where we don't remember we one begins and the other ends.
We can't make it. Part of our lure is that we are doomed. Doomed to death, or angst, or to behind the curtains because we are deemed "inappropriate". And we are. We are oh-so-very inappropriate. But we don't care.
Because lying here with you, hidden beneath bushes and masking chakra or behind frosted glass office walls or in the dark of a crypt or the in the sands of a desert, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what he says or she says or they say. What matters is this love, lust, God, whatever it is, that moves through us, past us, enveloping us in this haze, this maze, that we don't really want to escape.
There's something forbidden in the gaps (well, chasms, some may say) that we leap over, or into, to our shared doom.
There's something strangely exciting, but oh-so-very wrong when a younger, consenting, of age (and ok, maybe in their case a dead man and a minor) individual falls for someone older, wiser, scruffier (ok, so his hair is silver, not gray, but we really don't know what's underneath that mask now, do we?).
It's wrong. It's forbidden. It makes many people turn up their noses or makes their jaws drop and every fan has heard, at least once, the slow, disbelieving, "I-can't-believe-you're-serious-oh-God-let's-get-you-a-doctor-now", tone that says more than the one word given in response to the fan's proclamation of the new ship love, "WHAT?"
But for some reason, it persists. Small fanbase or large it doesn't matter.
This is where we belong. Sadly, we will never be open, never be free. Because we are "inappropriate". Because this is who we are. We will not let go, though. As poisonous as this is, as badly hurt we will be when we fade, or die, or any combination of the two, we continue.
Because there is love or lust or whatever you want to call it.
And the hints are enough.
We stand as the torch placed upon the altar of doomed love, because we are separated by not only the angst and time and the place and our friends and the people but by age which shouldn't matter in the long and short of things anyway.
We are doomed. We are poisoned. We are dead.
But "inappropriate" never tasted so good.
Wow, it's been a really, really, really long time. Hi everyone!
For a while I thought I'd finally leave but never actually got around to it… Well, I'm glad I didn't. There will always be a need for a place to expand on things that happen in fiction and a place for pairings (crack or otherwise) with nowhere else to go.
And on that note, here is my rambling, random, stream of consciousness-like thoughts on pairings. More specifically, what I've often heard referred to as "ped pairings". This one goes out to Aurikku, Kakasaku, Spawn, and House/Cam. This also goes out, in general to pairings where the main (or at least, one of the largest) reason(s) for flames toward the pairings, is the age gap.
I don't condone pedophilia in any form, but there's something about these pairings that I love. And yes, I've noticed a pattern in my tastes; I don't need you to point out that I'm a sicko or anything like that.
I think it was Sailor Moon that screwed me up for life. I loved that show when I was younger. I think it was a subconscious thing because I did not find out 'til way later that Serena was an 8th grader and Darien was in college. Yeah. Think about that, a 13 or 14 year old girl and a guy who's 17 or 18. Uh huh.
All joking aside, there it was. Feel free to flame if you wish. Reviews are luffed.
-LT