artisdrama
artis(t)drama
a kiss is the beginning of cannibalism [kat's sideblog]
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your daily writing prompt: write a scene where one of your characters comes home with blood on their clothes
whoever they live with asks them about it. decide what the blood is from (an accident, not an accident; their blood; someone else's; etc.) - then decide if they tell the truth or if they lie about it
Whenever Nicholas came and went in his house, Edgar saw no glimpse of it. Even though he was constantly with his guards up, he had slowly embraced the lingering presence of the other, along with the trails and open windows. While being a cop made him unsettled by any sort of presence, the absolute lack of effort in hiding his traces would lessen the surprise whenever he found the other perched up on the kitchen island, fiddling with a cookie like a raccoon. Edgar constantly got on duty for long periods of time, so it was common for them to spend full weeks without crossing their paths once.
It’s not like they even lived together. One could argue that if Nicholas didn’t have the permission to be around, he would simply hack the locks and enter anyway, so Edgar operated by mitigation instead of prevention when he granted access to the other. He thought to himself that allowing Nicholas in was akin to inviting a vampire to your place, though the bite was unsure. He came and went at his free will, and had no moral constraints that stopped him from abusing the entrance access in the main house, leading to empty bottles left by the side of the trash bin and half-eaten sandwiches forgotten by the toaster. And although from that description it would seem that Nicholas was just a cheap freeloader, Mr. Make-yourself-at-home-Tenório would try to spend time with Edgar whenever he had the opportunity, which just happened to coincide with the other not having and vice-versa.
Things being like that, the own concept of having or not company for the night was a russian roulette game. To Edgar, that was simultaneously exciting and unnerving, and everytime he met the other he would feel a rush of emotions different than the last time. That day, he was met with a few drops of blood staining the front hall and leading to the corridor. Before looking around the house, he locked the door behind him and raised his personal terminal, scrolling through the security indicators to see if anyone had tried to mess with the system. As access was the same as having a key, the security system would not signal him whenever one of the two entered, only leaving a single timeframe line on the log, but malicious hacking would always leave traces. The tidy code met Edgar, no traces of infiltration aside from the last opening command that was from less than half an hour before.
He walked through the place in silence, as he listened to the faint sound of the shower coming from the end of the hallway. He avoided loud steps, in hopes he’d catch the other red-handed with whatever the fuck was going on right there. As if reading his mind, the door was left half-opened, the doorknob imprinted with a bloody hand. Instead of touching it, he pushed the door with the side of his body and barged inside.
Nicholas sat in only his underwear, which for some reason he didn’t bother to take off, as he relentlessly scrubbed his shirt with a cleaning brush and a bar of soap. The shower was still on, dripping onto his hair and glueing to his face in the most unflattering way Edgar had ever seen. He raised his face, looking at the newly-arrived with a smirk on his face, before looking back down and having long eyelashes shadow his eyes. The water around him was a red-ish tint, few lines of blood twirling around him, unable to fully mix into the water before being dragged away through the drain.
“Nicholas,” Edgar said, raising his hand to see the temperature of the water. He noticed the room was abnormally cold for the shower to be turned on, just to figure out that the other had not turned the heating on “isn’t it cold?”
The other gave his shoulders, smiling without raising his face “Won’t you ask first what i’m doing?”
Edgar sat down by the edge of the tub, looking around in silence. He could see a few irregular cuts in Nicholas' forearms, but not enough to leave such bloodstains, and the pair of jeans was already suspended along with the towels, dripping on the floor and leaving a puddle of water and soap. They stayed like that for a little while, only the sound of the water and Nicholas scrubbing, before he raised his head from the shirt again, staring deeply with his dark almond-eyes into Edgar’s soul.
“Are you not interested in me at all?”
“Is it your blood?” he then asked, and the other scoffed at him while standing up, pulling his hair behind to clear his face. Nicholas had ears fairly larger than most people, but his long hair would usually cover it for him. In his current condition, though, he was no different than a Canadian Sphynx. Edgar always found that rather endearing, so he lifted his hand to push one of the strands of hair that was left behind the other’s ears. The lean body and scars all over could have made him quite fragile looking, but the crazed vitality in his eyes was unmatched in all the city, which begged the question.
“Some.” he teased, showing a particularly large cut behind his arm, messing a little with the scarring and opening it again. Edgar slapped his hand to stop him from drawing more blood and stood up, going to the drawers to look for medicine to tend the wounds. “Won’t you ask me questions?”
“We don’t do ‘questions’.” he simply stated, taking the first aid box from the back of the cabinet. Nicholas walked up to him and leaned against his arm, leaving Edgar’s sleeves wet. He then rinsed his hands quickly to catch his shirt, now clean, and left right by the pair of pants. He backed up, watching as Edgar calmly separated a thimerosal bottle and a couple of bandages.
“But don’t you want to hear what stories I’ll carefully craft only for you, my dear?” he said, going back to the tub and resting his back against it. He turned the water on again, taking the last piece of clothing and scrubbing the dirt off his body. “You don’t appreciate my creative writing degree.”
“Lying this well is hardly something to be proud of.” Edgar said, turning around and watching as the other put a half-assed effort into cleaning himself. He smiled, crossing his arms, unwilling to play the game yet relishing on the other’s efforts “What do you want me to ask?”
“If it hurts,” he smiled, rinsing his hair before shaking it with his hands to dry it. Edgar grabbed a towel and quickly covered him, without paying mind to where was still bleeding and were wasn’t. He was already used to having black colored towels in his bathroom to avoid these sorts of incidents, and Nicholas allowed himself to be wrapped up like a burrito “if I managed to escape without being followed, if you’re in danger too…”
While the Oscar-award performance was being delivered, Edgar went to the room to get another pair of underwear, only to go back and see the other messing up the medicine he had carefully organised on the floor.
“You can stay the night if you need.” he said, and the other stared at him for a few moments, a mutual understanding between them. It was already granted that he could stay the night, but the acknowledgement that Edgar trusted him to be there, even though he had no reasons to, made something ache inside Nicholas’ chest.
But as fleeting as that, he was already back to his insufferable self, shamelessly throwing the towel on the ground while he grabbed the pair of underwear from Edgar’s hands “Guess you’ll be damned with my imperial presence.”
“Yeah. Turn around, I’ll wrap these up.”
#daily writing prompt#nicholas tenório#edgar trevisan#original#writing in english but giving them brazilian names? hell yeah#short story#unsure if i should already tag the name of the universe if it isn't a series already but for now just the names of the characters is fine i#not beta read#not revised#not anything i drunkwrote this#oc
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i just want to tell my followers that i’ll start using this side blog to post my daily writing prompts challenge, which will not be daily or anything but i’m just using the title of the account i’m taking inspiration to set the hashtag, but i’ll just write whatever comes to mind, so if you want to see it you can mute the tag "daily writing prompt” - they won’t be beta-ed nor revised, it’s just for fun to explore my own original characters. these are mostly sci-fi works, but it won’t be too visible in most stories as technology is already too ingrained in our daily lives, so it’s barely noticeable how advanced theirs is. anyways, that’s it, thanks for reading
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no but like, lesbian vegas makes too much sense. we know gun refused to officially name vegas as his heir and that would be obvious if his firstborn was a woman. it makes the insult that she's weak just like her mother cut deeper. it makes her bitterness over kinn so much stronger. sure he's gay, but at least he's a man...he can fuck up and be worse at being a mobster than her, but he gets away with it bc sons always do. she's terrified of the day her father decides that it's time for her to step into the "only role she's good for" as someone's wife in an advantageous marriage. watching her hedgehogs die is like being stabbed twice. not only does she fail to keep her emotions in check when she loses them, she fails twofold bc isn't she, as a woman, supposed to be nurturing? she feels like a freak bc not only does her skin crawl when she has to use seduction to get what she wants from men, but she's too jagged and sharp to ever find a woman who can accept her cruelty...her appetite for hurting. she says "macau is no different" because no matter how loving she has been in raising her baby brother, no man in her life has proven her different. what's to stop macau from one day becoming just as cruel and callous as the rest of them and turn on her in the end?
meanwhile pete was also born to a father who wished for a son. who cut her hair short and made her fight. who used his fists and said "don't think i'll go easy on you just because you're a girl!". she realizes quickly that a girl who smiles and is easy going invites no questions. she's assigned to tankhun bc "he needs someone who reminds him of his mother. he loved her very much". when porsche walks into her room one day and later admits that sharing with her makes him uncomfortable bc he has a tendency to hook up with pretty girls like her she tells him "not gonna happen and also i can kick your ass" and they become inseparable. she's stuck in a cage watching vegas rip the teeth out of a man who underestimated her and feels a buzzing underneath her own skin that she hasn't felt in years. vegas trails her hand down her spine in a temple and pete swears she hears her stomach growling.
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behind the scenes of the VegasPete teaser
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randomly thinking of how pete has been the first for vegas in so many ways and how he's gonna be the first in so many others. how they will need to figure this out together because of their history but also because vegas just doesn't know what a real relationship looks like. he always used love as a means to an end, and it was never his love to begin with, but now pete is in his life and vegas loves him so much but he also hurt him so much and that guilt is never gonna go away. and even without this, even ignoring everything they've been through, vegas doesn't really know how to navigate this situation but he sure as hell is gonna do his best and he's gonna try his hardest and sometimes it won't feel like it's enough but pete is always gonna be there to tell him that he's not going anywhere. that he chose vegas and he's gonna keep choosing him over and over again.
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KINNPORSCHE: THE SERIES (2022)
I made this place for you. A place for you to love me.
If this isn’t a kingdom then I don’t know what is.
— Richard Siken, Snow and Dirty Rain.
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My friend @destimushi had a great take on Pete's behaviour at the beginning of this episode. And she interpreted it as sub drop and because it's a great take I think other people should read it.
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Pete is O type blood, the universal donor, the one who can give to anyone but can only accept something perfectly matched in return.
Vegas is AB type blood, the universal recipient, the one who can accept any donation but can only give to someone matched perfectly.
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i know it’s late to talk about this but there’s something so beautiful and erotic about bondage being the practice vegas and pete choose for sex. they insisted in the bdsm aspect during interviews and we all were expecting sadomasochism being their pick, but yet it was bondage - and honestly, aside from the light dom and sub dynamics, there’s no sadism in vegas’ actions. it implies so much in what they actually desire in their dynamic, because bondage is all about giving yourself completely to someone else and, on the other hand, to have someone just for you. because vegas is dying to have pete all for himself, and he’s making sure he tastes every single part of pete’s body that maybe no one else ever did, while pete is giving himself fully to vegas’ touch without fighting back, letting himself be consumed by all of it and worshipped. never, any of them, has ever been so honest and so raw about their deepest desires as in that scene.
conflict is there - the whole surrender of the body, pete’s desired to be consumed by someone else. the throbbing need to be held so tightly blood stops circulating. but also how vegas isn’t looking for hurt - he could’ve had hit pete, but he didn’t. he’s looking for something to belong to him - finally, someone that stays with him and only him, makes him his priority. someone that before that never fell for anyone but him, or never as hard as for him. he wants to win over and thrive on it. and bondage reafirms for both of them that they’re one another’s and there’s only the two of them right at that moment.
and the aftermath is cruel, because desire doesn’t mean it’s the right thing or the best thing. we sometimes desire some very fucked up stuff, we desire death and we desire destruction. how to condemn someone for wanting self-destruction when we have no idea where those thoughts come from in the first place? you can be a philosopher and argue all day whether man is born destructive or born and then corrupted, but the reality stays that sometimes the crueler thoughts win over you and make you crave the bad in life just as much as you crave the good.
#vegaspete#vegaspete meta#but i want to emphasize that they did indeed use sex as a way to avoid conversation which tbh mood but also Hey lets not do that folks#i love how much thought is given to every kinnporsche sex scene#they’re not only for explicit material sake but they all mean something to the story#especially vegaspete’s scene#it was so carefully directed and so artistic that it was the only one i actually went to rewatch to see if i could catch a glimpse of the sm#vegas kornwit theerapanyakun#pete phongsakorn
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suffering [noun]
physical or mental pain that a person or animal is feeling
#lemme cry in peace for the love of god#those parallels ruining me ever since the episode was released
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a trait of pete's that has consistently intrigued me is his capacity to adapt to any given situation. it's shown very early on through little things, most notably pete's advices to porsche about living in the main family's mansion, which are basically do as you're told and follow the rules. that easy.
the rules to surviving are observe and adapt.
observe
adapt
observe
adapt
often in media, abuse victims who adapt to their situation and create ways to live around that abuse just so they can make it through another day are portrayed as weak, as the side character to the rebellious one who fights back and doesn't just take it. but reality is, more often than not, if you're the rebellious kind all that will do for you is get you killed. and so growing up the way he did, pete probably had to learn this the hard way.
when he's caught by vegas and macau in the temple, although he hesitates a little (mostly for comedic effect), he goes with it. he makes merits with vegas and does very little fighting back against his creepiness.
when he's on his phone with his grandmother while tied up and spent from being tortured he still menages to recompose himself in a very impressive way and build a convincing enough version of himself that won't worry her.
this is a dance that he has perfected.
observing as a way of survival is also how he's aware of who vegas is from very early on. pete has always sensed that there was something rotten behind the charismatic human mask vegas wears. so when he's kidnapped, he knows what to expect.
but this time there's no surviving each day,
he's going to die.
or at least that's what's supposed to happen.
his suicidal defiance must feel so cathartic after a lifetime of adapting. to laugh in vegas's face and dare him with his eyes to do his worst.
but pete is still the same pete who was beat as a child by a father who couldn't deal with his own failures like an adult.
so when vegas chokes him and throws hurtful words around as if he wasn't looking at pete like he was the sun not that long ago, he adapts to the situation.
this is when i die
he was already having a crisis before vegas came into the room. the shame had set in and he was questioning every choice he's made so far, no longer just living in the moment. vegas's outburst just confirmed things.
so now the situation is, pete has a chance to die. vegas has a knife against his throat and maybe, just maybe, he might kill him this time. it's a chance he can't miss out on. no more fantasies of surviving, life has thrown at him that he can finally die and he feels like shit so it's probably for the best.
but pete is tired of adapting.
what if he wants to live?
and live without chains.
he recomposes himself just as he did when he was tied up with a phone against his ear and with the last remains of his strength he frees himself.
he goes back to his old life, but it's not the same. pete's instict is still to adapt, but he can't adapt to this.
there's an aching feeling in his chest eating him alive. it's not a pain that he can distract himself from, its always in the forefront taking up every inch of his brain.
it doesn't let him sleep,
it doesn't let him eat,
it doesn't let him lie to his friends.
vegas has shaken his ability to adapt, now all pete can do is try to hold his pieces together and not break in front of someone. beg that they ignore that he's crumbling even if they see the cracks.
seeing vegas is an intoxicating reminder of what's been done to him, that despite it all he's still nothing. vegas replaced seeing pete as a pet for seeing pete as a person he isn't because it was the person vegas needed to see in him in that moment. even when pete thinks he might've gotten somewhere, he hasn't.
he's not a human.
he has no feelings.
all that matters is what he can be for other people, his real feelings aren't to be noticed.
but still, pete can't deny to himself that he liked some of it.
he didn't like being dehumanized and beat, but he liked being held down and worshiped. he liked being looked at like he could mean something. like someone wanted him so much they couldn't control themselves. like someone needed him. he can't even bring himself to lie to vegas when he asks him to promise not to leave him.
he liked it.
and he wants more.
but he can't have it anymore, barely had it in the first place.
vegas leaves him sobbing alone on the floor.
pete gets up.
pete recomposes himself.
pete adapts.
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Pete has a Shakespeare tattoo ofc he’d fall for a tragic over dramatic villain
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the tenderness with which vegas treats pete in the moments where he lets himself feel what he feels for him is so heartbreaking. he looks at pete and touches him like he's the most precious thing he's ever laid his eyes on. it's more noticiable when it comes right after vegas being rough and cruel. you see his eyes change and his brain come back to earth, guided by his feelings for pete (whatever those may be). you see him have to face himself in the reflection in petes eyes and have to deal with what that reflection says about him
who he is
who he can be
what he's capable of doing
it makes me wonder who could vegas be if he knew something other than violence?
if the vegas that grew up completely void of affection can be so tender in these moments of clarity, what could a vegas with a different raising do?
#vegaspete#vegas always left this impression to me (at least in the novel) that deep inside he was a really needy and caring child that loved life#until he simply didn't anymore#he would play with his mom's hair and call her pretty and she would smile at him pretending she's not in pain#and she would hope for him to be well after she was gone even though she knew she was lying to herself
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“mutual surrender- maybe that's an act of love. surrendering to this thing that's bigger than we are: this love, this pain. the courage to surrender comes from knowing that the love & pain will almost kill us- but not quite.” -Glennon Doyle
kinnporsche | episode 13
#vegaspete#i love how they made sure we would understand they're missing each other by mirroring the scenes#like at this point there's no doubt about them having feelings for one another just which feelings those are
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love the irony of how both vegas and pete’ complexes are that they’re secondary to other people around them and not seen for who they are, just for them to be the secondary couple in their show
#vegaspete#kinnporsche the series#they can't have anything lol#of course their insecurities are shown differently but they are indeed the same just different fonts
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