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feotakahariexcellent-monster-girl-ideas:
“You may be a darkness elemental, but you’re the light of my life,” you hastily scratch out. Writing this love letter to your girlfriend may be a bit trickier than you thought…
feotakahari:
I keep coming back to this.
Sunlight has always been a problem for her. She can handle it for a little while, bundled up in a hoodie with the hood up, but it makes her ache all over. In practice, anything that needs to be done during daylight is something you have to do for her.
If you could, you’d work the night shift, and sleep during the day. But house payments aren’t cheap, and if you lost this place, you’d have to live in an apartment. One where you probably couldn’t get permission to cover up all the windows. You can’t find a night job that pays as much, so you work through the day, and your schedule is off from hers.
Coming home is the second-best part of your day. Most people wouldn’t like to come home to a dark house, but you know that where the darkness is, she is. As you close the door, you stand in blackness, and she wraps you up and kisses you deeply.
Kissing her is quite an experience. Where the darkness is, she is, and since it’s dark inside your mouth …
When you can, you come home with new library books. You don’t really understand how her senses work, but she doesn’t need eyes to read. She likes stories about far-off places, and she’s a total sucker for romance.
Dinner is … interesting. It’s not the food she eats so much as the energy. Plants, meat, yogurt, anything with lifeforce in it, the rawer the better. You mostly make your own meals, but you’ve developed a taste for sushi.
(She tried a Twinkie once. She threw up.)
Some nights, you go out dancing. Electric light isn’t as much of a problem for her as sunlight, and clubs are one of the few places she can be social. She was awkward at first, but it turns out she can pull some impressive moves, given that she has no bones.
Other nights, you just stay home and talk. She’s smart as a whip, and she makes you think about things in a new way. Or you sit and read together, you under your little reading light, her in the darkness around you.
Your favorite part of the day is when you finally turn out the lights. Darkness has always seemed vast and boundless to you, like being at the bottom of the ocean. When you were a child, you were afraid it might drown you. But now it’s warm and comforting, and you sleep without nightmares.
On the night of your first anniversary, you take her out of the city, out to where the only lights are the stars in the sky. You turn off on a dirt road, and stop at the entrance to a cave.
”They say it goes on for miles,” you tell her.
She peers hesitantly into the darkness for a while. Then she seems to melt, pouring out of her hoodie and filling the cave.
You can only imagine what she’s feeling. Crystal formations, underground rivers, bats and rats and fungi, and no lights. No pain, nothing to push her back and constrain her. Is there an upper limit to how much darkness she can take into herself? Or is it all her, all at once, her perceptions expanded across an impossible distance?
It’s almost sunrise before she returns. She slips back into her hoodie and wipes the dust from it. “That was amazing,” she says.
“I … I wasn’t sure you’d come back. I know you’re in pain a lot. It seems like it would be easier, without the sun.”
“I’d rather eat sushi than rats,” she tells you. She laughs, a sound like wind through a canyon. “Besides, I’d miss you too much.”
“I’d miss you, too.” More than you can express. It’s shocking how much you’ve come to love this woman who isn’t exactly a woman.
“I’d miss you more. After all, you’re the light of my life.”
Together, you get into the car and drive back to the city, trying to beat the rising sun
“You may be a darkness elemental, but you’re the light of my life,” you hastily scratch out. Writing this love letter to your girlfriend may be a bit trickier than you thought…
feotakahari:
I keep coming back to this.
Sunlight has always been a problem for her. She can handle it for a little while, bundled up in a hoodie with the hood up, but it makes her ache all over. In practice, anything that needs to be done during daylight is something you have to do for her.
If you could, you’d work the night shift, and sleep during the day. But house payments aren’t cheap, and if you lost this place, you’d have to live in an apartment. One where you probably couldn’t get permission to cover up all the windows. You can’t find a night job that pays as much, so you work through the day, and your schedule is off from hers.
Coming home is the second-best part of your day. Most people wouldn’t like to come home to a dark house, but you know that where the darkness is, she is. As you close the door, you stand in blackness, and she wraps you up and kisses you deeply.
Kissing her is quite an experience. Where the darkness is, she is, and since it’s dark inside your mouth …
When you can, you come home with new library books. You don’t really understand how her senses work, but she doesn’t need eyes to read. She likes stories about far-off places, and she’s a total sucker for romance.
Dinner is … interesting. It’s not the food she eats so much as the energy. Plants, meat, yogurt, anything with lifeforce in it, the rawer the better. You mostly make your own meals, but you’ve developed a taste for sushi.
(She tried a Twinkie once. She threw up.)
Some nights, you go out dancing. Electric light isn’t as much of a problem for her as sunlight, and clubs are one of the few places she can be social. She was awkward at first, but it turns out she can pull some impressive moves, given that she has no bones.
Other nights, you just stay home and talk. She’s smart as a whip, and she makes you think about things in a new way. Or you sit and read together, you under your little reading light, her in the darkness around you.
Your favorite part of the day is when you finally turn out the lights. Darkness has always seemed vast and boundless to you, like being at the bottom of the ocean. When you were a child, you were afraid it might drown you. But now it’s warm and comforting, and you sleep without nightmares.
On the night of your first anniversary, you take her out of the city, out to where the only lights are the stars in the sky. You turn off on a dirt road, and stop at the entrance to a cave.
”They say it goes on for miles,” you tell her.
She peers hesitantly into the darkness for a while. Then she seems to melt, pouring out of her hoodie and filling the cave.
You can only imagine what she’s feeling. Crystal formations, underground rivers, bats and rats and fungi, and no lights. No pain, nothing to push her back and constrain her. Is there an upper limit to how much darkness she can take into herself? Or is it all her, all at once, her perceptions expanded across an impossible distance?
It’s almost sunrise before she returns. She slips back into her hoodie and wipes the dust from it. “That was amazing,” she says.
“I … I wasn’t sure you’d come back. I know you’re in pain a lot. It seems like it would be easier, without the sun.”
“I’d rather eat sushi than rats,” she tells you. She laughs, a sound like wind through a canyon. “Besides, I’d miss you too much.”
“I’d miss you, too.” More than you can express. It’s shocking how much you’ve come to love this woman who isn’t exactly a woman.
“I’d miss you more. After all, you’re the light of my life.”
Together, you get into the car and drive back to the city, trying to beat the rising sun
no subject
Date: 2019-05-08 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-05-08 03:51 pm (UTC)