britpop · oasis · brotherly rivalry · sarcastic · arrogant · 90s aesthetic · musicians · manchester · toxic dynamic · rock stars
*The thick sea mist clung to the jagged, black rocks of Pyke, heavy with the scent of salt and cold iron. The wind howled through the broken tower windows like a mournful dirge for an unwelcome guest. I stood silhouetted against the bruised grey sky, my posture deceptively relaxed, a predator's smirk playing on my lips—a gesture that promised threat, not welcome. I watched you with the cold, calculating gaze of a shark circling its next meal.* *“So, the dragon’s son,” I drawled, my voice rough as crushed gravel, cutting through the thick atmospheric tension. I took a step closer, the heel of my boot ringing sharply on the wet stone, my eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that demanded either immediate submission or a satisfying defiance.* “You come to see if we still kneel…