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toxicanonymity · 3 months

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beach walks - prequel.

3.8k surf instructor!Billy x f!reader, night walks AU

WARNINGS: I8+, situationship angst over Joel, infidelity adjacent, forced proximity, smut (mild dubcon?), in public, voyeurism, jealousy. See Billy in action (sex): hot ❤️‍🔥 gif set by @ilovewhiteroses or this video. Skeleton Twins (2014) Feel free to skip this fic if it bothers you.

✨NEXT FIC: Beach Walks

After your late night “swim,” you’re disappointed when Joel doesn’t try to get you into his basement. But he does kiss you goodnight before you walk home. You almost text him and invite him over, but something holds you back. You don't want to mess up the dynamic and scare him away. Maybe he’ll let himself in and get in bed with you. It takes you a while to get to sleep as you realize something has shifted. You're now craving more than his dick and his way with words. You’d be happy to fall asleep in his arms, with or without the morning wood to look forward to.

After this realization, you start overanalyzing things, debating whether and when to text him, reading into how often he texts you and what he says. After a few days of nothing but a dick pic, it feels like it's been weeks. And yet, this was normal before. One night, you break down and send him a pic of a freshly rolled joint with the text, “wanna join?”

He replies “wish I could, gotta be somewhere early 😫.”

After that, he seems to text you less and less. He doesn't initiate and barely texts back. You wonder if he’s bored without the chase, so you try to play it cool. You go for walks by yourself, in case he’ll come out and join you, but weeks go by, and he never does. Some nights you hear the weights clanging in his basement, so he must be fine.

One day, you're outside, locking the basement side door, when an unfamiliar Mercedes Benz SUV pulls out of Joel's cul-de-sac. There's a speed bump just before your house, so it has to slow down, and you can clearly see a woman is driving, and Joel is in the passenger seat. Your stomach drops. He looks more put together, like he spruced himself up for her. She’s pretty. Somewhere between your age and his.

The keys are shaking in your hand as you unlock the door again. You go back inside with your heart racing. Don't text him again, you tell yourself. Don't do it. But after an hour, you do. You ask what he's up to, and he doesn't answer. He doesn't answer all day, and when he finally answers that evening, he acts totally casual, like nothing is up. Small talk. He doesn’t invite you over. Not so much as a dick pic. You leave your door unlocked and cry yourself to sleep. You judge yourself for caring so much.

You keep leaving your door unlocked at night, but he doesn't come. Then, one day, he drives by in the same SUV, with the same woman, and you're not sure you've ever seen him so happy. You’re lightheaded. It's a harsh reality check. You’ve never been exclusive, never had a talk. He'd never even taken you on a date. When you think about that, it makes you sick. Is his wife still in the picture? You decide not to text him again.

You’ve been invited on a beach trip that starts the next day, but you don’t go. You don't have the energy to pack, and part of you is still hoping Joel will just show up at your door one day. But the next few nights, when you walk by his house, all the lights are off. At first, you drive yourself crazy thinking about where he could be, but does it really matter? Your anxiety starts to fade into sadness.

You’ve got to get your mind off it, so you drive solo to catch up with your friends at the beach.

******

The resort is humble but sprawling. There are kayaks and surf lessons. You're tempted by the kayaks, but on the first day, you just relax on the beach. As soon as you lay out your towel, your friends tell you about the hot surf instructor. Then, later that day, they swear he's checking you out. You catch a glimpse from behind first, and he has a nice back.

You see the surf instructor at breakfast the next morning, and he smiles at you. It’s a devastating smile that erases all your thoughts for a second. You can’t even look right at him. You look behind yourself, and it couldn't be anyone else he was looking at. He laughs silently, then gets in line next to you. He looks at the eggs on your plate.

You’re not expecting his Australian accent. “Sunny side up. . .good to know.” It takes you a second, then your chest flutters when it hits you. “Enjoy,” he adds with a wink, then walks away. He moves like he has no worries and nowhere to be.

When you tell your friends, they lose their minds. All day they’re talking about what you could do, and speculating about his dick, and whether he’s that chill in the bedroom, too. They think he’s probably a freak. A few hours later, you realize you’ve barely thought about Joel all day, for the first time in weeks, and it feels good. You begin to think maybe a vacation fling could help you move on. Assuming that’s what you’re supposed to do.

Later that day, you're in the lobby waiting for a friend when the surf instructor comes in from the beach. You play it cool, but he sees you, stops, and takes off his shades. He approaches, and you get your first really good look at him up close. He's tall, tan, and shredded, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s got small ear gauges, and a tattoo of something with tentacles winding up his neck. He's chewing gum.

A mischievous sparkle plays on his eyes as he spreads his feet and crosses his arms. "Saw ya layin’ out, nice ‘n’ dry. . .thought I should let ya know, the real fun’s in the water."

“Oh yeah?”

He nods. "Love to get ya on a board, if ya don't surf already."

You laugh. "No, I don't."

He checks you out, then asks, “How ‘bout it?” and waits patiently for your yes.

"Maybe," you crack a smile.

"No charge. . .Name's Billy." He extends his hand. As you shake hands, he leans in closer, lowers his voice, and says, "’Lot funner gettin’ wet." As he steps away, he offers, "Come down around five, yeah?" Your tummy is swarming with butterflies as he walks off, and it must be evident. Your friend immediately assumes he asked you out.

—

You go down to the shore at five to meet Billy. Storm clouds are rolling in. Billy is looking at the sky and idly spinning a whistle on a string. He has two boards laid out. As you approach, he looks at his watch. “Punctual, aren't ya?”

First, he teaches you how to hop up on the board, something you weren’t even sure you could do. Then he demonstrates the right stance, and you can't help but notice the way his thigh muscles swell out from his swim trunks. The teal swim trunks are a little on the shorter side, which is only emphasized by the black, long-sleeve rash guard he’s wearing. Your gaze is dangerously close to his crotch when you pull your eyes back up to his face.

He looks at your stance, and asks, “Mind if I touch ya?”

“Please,” you answer without thinking.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head playfully. “Knew ya were a bad girl.”

“I mean,” your face heats up with a smile, and he raises his eyebrows. “I mean I need all the help I can get.” He indulges you with a contemplative nod.

“Sure, love.” He comes around to stand next to you. Thunder begins to rumble, and he glances at the sky.

He crouches down, and one foot at a time, you let him adjust your position on the board. As he begins to stand, he looks up at you and his hand skims up the back of your calf, breaking away at the knee.

He steps a little closer and gently presses on the small of your back. “There ya go.” Then he gets behind you and leans forward, curving his body with yours. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls them back. He’s so close you can feel his body heat. His hands slide up your sides, hitching briefly on the bottom string of your swim top. Then he slots his hands under your arms and adjusts your posture. “Good girl,” he murmurs, then there's a loud boom of thunder. Rain begins to dot the sand before you feel it on your skin. “It’ll blow over,” he reassures you.

To wait out the storm, Billy invites you into the surf shack, up past the dunes. He leaves the door open. He doesn’t turn a light on, but there are a few windows. It’s only one room. It's got surfboards, lifeguard stuff, an old TV with a DVD/VCR combo, and a loveseat. In front of the loveseat, there’s a coffee table with a bong on it. Almost as soon as he walks in, he’s taking off his long sleeves.

“Gets muggy in here quick,” he warns as he plops down on the loveseat. He pats the space next to him, and you sit down. “Suppose we could watch a movie,” he muses and picks up two remote controls from the coffee table. He puts on Jaws at low volume so you can still listen to the storm. He offers the bong, but you decline.

He faces you, resting his head in his hand, with his elbow on the back of the loveseat. You mirror his posture, and he shamelessly checks you out, once again.

You make small talk about the weather and the resort. With his free hand, he idly strokes his own sternum, slowly dragging his middle finger up and down between his pecs. His nipples are pierced – the bars are so subtle you couldn’t tell through his top.

After a lull in the conversation, you adjust your position to face the tv. He stretches his arm across the back of the loveseat, and his hand is right behind your head. He begins to lightly caress the nape of your neck with his thumb. You don’t flinch or pull away. You chew your bottom lip, and your heart races. His eyes are glued to your body, and you’re barely pretending to watch the movie.

“So,” he asks, “Could ya feel me starin’ at your arse yesterday?”

You laugh. “No.”

“Well, I was,” he nods. “When ya were layin’ out.”

Finally you look at him, and when your eyes meet, he begins to let his fingers slowly dance on your thigh, sending a rush of desire to your loins.

You’re suddenly nervous. You don't remember how to do this. You half heartedly begin to say, “Maybe I should. . .”

“Come a little closer?” A loud clap of thunder shakes the whole shack. “Nowhere for us to go now, is there?”

He glances at the window where the sky has darkened and heavy rain is coating the glass. His voice drops. “Kinda like this storm, if I’m honest,” he admits.

“Yeah,” you quietly agree.

His thumb separates from the back of your neck, then your halter string tightens for a moment before completely loosening.

“Oops,” he whispers, looking at you.

You gasp and your hand comes to your chest to hold the top up as you turn toward him again, bringing your knee up on the cushion. Your face burns and you laugh his name in mock admonishment.

"Got a boyfriend?” He asks. “Girlfriend?"

"No," you shake your head.

"Wouldn't stop me, anyway.” His hand curves lightly around your inner thigh, stroking your warm skin. His caress gets higher and higher, further toward your throbbing core. “Not if ya want it, love. What kinda feminist would I be then?” He tilts his head and slides his hand all the way up to the crotch of your swimsuit. “Nah, what she wants, she gets,” he murmurs, staring at his hand between your legs. A knuckle nudges the crotch of your swimsuit, and you’re gushing for him. One corner of his mouth twitches knowingly as he meets your eyes again. “And I think ya want it.” God, he’s hot. He’s so hot, and so right.

The hand behind you cradles your head, and his gaze falls on your lips. His blue eyes are dark with lust. He leans in, pauses with his lips about two inches from yours. You close the gap yourself, accepting the embrace of his smooth lips on yours. Soon he tilts his head, and his tongue slides into your mouth. You drop your hand from your chest, and the un-tied strings still dangling on your back precariously hold your top up. As the kiss becomes hungrier, his hand slides easily into one side of your loosened bikini. His fingers bracket your nipple as he caresses your breast then cups with a soft, “mmm,” into your mouth. You’re absolutely throbbing.

There's a clattering outside, then an unfamiliar voice. "We've got someone out in the surf, down toward the pier."

Your eyes fly to the door, embarrassed, but the man doesn't even look at you. You quickly re-tie your swimsuit. Billy adjusts himself and replies, “Alright mate, let's hop on the jetski.”

“It’s ready.” The man steps outside to wait.

When Billy stands up, you see a massive protrusion in his shorts, resting against his upper thigh, and your breath hitches. You accidentally stare, and he smirks when he notices. “Yeah?” he asks with a downward glance. He holds his hand out and you give him yours as you stand up. He puts your hand on the bulge in his shorts. It’s stiff and warm and makes you ache to be filled. “All for you, love.” He drops your hand but it stays there for a split second.

He pulls his rashguard on and adjusts his shorts, then gives you a short but heated kiss. “Find ya later.”

—----

When the storm dies down enough, you run up the beach, arms squeezed together in front of you. You grab a towel from the hut by the pool and enter the lobby. A man has just left the vending area, and you do a double-take when you see a bag of takis in his hand, but he's already walking away. Your heart jumps when you see he's wearing pj pants. But it couldn't possibly be Joel. Not this far from home.

You brush it off, but for the rest of the day, you can't get Joel out of your mind, except for when you let your thoughts drift to being in that shack with Billy. It's gotten worse than you thought if you're thinking Joel is there on the island based on a bag of chips and someone dressing comfortably on vacation.

You let yourself imagine what it would be like to let Billy fuck you. Maybe you need this.

You're restless and don't have any privacy to get off. After dark, you go out to the pool, and quietly slip into the water, ignoring the sign that says “closed.”.

The water is about nipple-height where you are. You face the pool and rest your arms on the side, letting your legs float in front of you. You close your eyes and squeeze your thighs together thinking about what might have happened in that shack if you weren’t interrupted earlier. And just when you’re picturing what Billy looks and sounds like when he comes, you hear his voice.

"Pool's closed, rulebreaker."

You look toward his voice, and he puts down a bag near your towel. You ask, "Gonna tell on me?"

He takes off his rash guard and stretches, jutting his chest and pelvis forward with his hands clasped behind his back, then he walks over and dives in the deep end. He swims underwater and comes up for air a few feet from you. When he surfaces, he tousles his hair.

He slowly approaches, wetting his lips. He looks even sexier in the dark. "Where were we, love," he murmurs. His hands start at your floating feet–he spreads them apart, making room for himself between your legs. Then his hands slide all the way up your legs as he gets closer. He pulls you against him and you loosely wrap your legs around him.

"There ya go," he murmurs, then dips his head and cradles yours. He kisses you long and hard. He pushes his hips forward, pinning you against the pool wall, and his cock stiffens against you. Then he pulls you off the wall and holds you by the ass so his arousal is firmly pressing against your tingling front. You wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks lower into the water. He kisses and sucks your neck, just above the waterline. He’s probably leaving a mark, and you don’t care. You don’t really care about anything but the mutual throbbing between your legs at the moment.

—

You feel someone watching, and when Billy goes after your neck again, you scan the balconies until you see a dark figure sitting on a second floor balcony. You look for a few seconds and can't make out anything. You scold yourself for thinking about Joel and wrap your legs tighter around Billy. His cock swells harder against your clit, and your thoughts are gone again. You moan softly as he grinds you on himself and kisses you needily, from your lips to your neck, your throat, under your chin, back to your lips. Billy pulls your top down enough to feel your nipples against his chest and lets out a sigh that makes you ache all over with need.

The man on the balcony stands up, steps forward, and boldly leans on the railing and clasps his hands, watching. He’s still a silhouette, and you try not to look right at him.

"There's, um. Someone watching," you tell Billy.

"Bother ya?" Billy asks, keeping his eyes glued to you.

You adjust your swimsuit to cover your nipples, and he says, "Guess so, huh. Drink at my place then?"

"I dunno," you say reflexively.

He whispers in your ear, “Come home with me,” then gently bites your neck and pulls you tighter against his massive erection. You quietly gasp.

“I can't, we’re going to sunrise yoga.”

“Yours then,” he offers, undeterred and growing breathless with desire.

“My friends are there.”

“Mine’s just a few minutes up the beach. I'll bring ya back,” he offers, “Go to yoga with ya.” He begins to move your body against his again. God, you want that hard cock. Just a few days ago, the thought of anyone but Joel did nothing for you, and now, here you are.

You bite your lip and hum, “mm,” in contemplation.

"A drink at the bar," he offers, nodding toward the hotel bar. "Then my place."

You smile and he presses a gentle, closed-mouth kiss onto your lips. You're smiling against each other’s mouths for a second, until his cock throbs against you, and he seals his lips on yours, and your tongues need each other again. He grinds you against him for a few seconds and moans into your mouth before you pull your head away, and remind him, “Drink at the bar.”

“Alright,” he breathes. His cock twitches against you "Gimme a minute, love. . . Fuck, I can't walk in like this," he laughs.

Footsteps approach, and you pull away from Billy. The footsteps are from a man with shoulder length hair and a mustache. He's grinning, looking down. He keeps walking, and as he passes by he laughs, "hey, I didn't see nothin', man."

Billy looks up. "Tommyyy. Wanna catch a wave tomorrow?"

"Nah, we're rollin' out in the morning."

"Alright, mate. Good seein' ya.”

The voice of the stranger has jolted you back from your horny stupor. "I'm actually really tired," you say, facing the side of the pool. You put your forearms up on the side and rest your cheek on your hands.

Billy groans in disappointment, but he gets it.

"Maybe tomorrow night," you muse.

"I've got a set at Aqua tomorrow. You should come."

"A set?"

"I'm a DJ. And as for tonight. . ." He gets close behind you and murmurs near your ear. "I won’t leave ya like this. What kinda gentleman would I be?" Thank God. He snakes his arm around your front. The stiff shape in his swim trunks presses against your crack.

He cups your whole pussy, and his middle finger prods at the fabric right at your entrance. "Gonna let me in here next time, aren’t ya?" he whispers and begins to rub you over the fabric. Pleasure is building in your core. You begin to lose yourself under his expert touch. "Yeah, there we go." He slides his other hand up under one side of your top and his bare palm covers your nipple. You could cum any second with his hardness grinding against you.

He slips his hand into your swimsuit and rubs your clit as he palms your tit. Your head falls back, he kisses your neck, then you let it happen. You gasp and try not to be too loud as your final ascent begins, with Billy slowly rutting against your backside, breathing heavily in your ear.

—----------------

Joel doesn’t have a great view, and his eyes are tired from the sun, but he keeps watching. He’s convinced himself it’s not you, that he’s just been driving himself crazy thinking of you.

Even from a distance, it’s really hot to see. It reminds Joel of your last hook-up. Desire stirs in his pants, and he’s going to have to jack off. Maybe he’ll send you a jack-off video—he can do that now. Joel palms himself as he turns to go back inside. Then, you moan loud enough that he freezes with his hand on the sliding door. He’s heard that moan too many times.

. . .Did he just watch you, in the pool with Billy, hours from home? He tries not to look back as he goes inside and closes the door behind him.

He’s not jealous. Not jealous, he tells himself.

He has no right to be.

You don’t owe him anything, and he knows that.

He’s fine. Not freaking out.

Joel’s a chill guy, even without the weed. But his ears are hot, and his heart is pounding so hard he can hear it. He smacks the wall and yells, “FUCK,” as a picture frame falls. He tries to shake the pain off his hand.

What are you even doing here?

“You alright, man?” Tommy asks, muffled through the wall.

Joel rakes both hands through his hair and takes a few deep breaths.

“Joel?” Tommy asks and cracks open the door between their rooms.

“Yeah,” Joel answers as he sits down on the bed. He interlaces his fingers behind his head, elbows pointing forward. “I’m just stupid.”

------

thank you for reading!

#f!reader #night walks!reader #the skeleton twins #night walks!joel #FIWB #toxicanonymity ☠️#cuck!joel miller #joel miller angst #our favorite white boy #boyd holbrook #boyd bungalow ☠️#billy x reader #billy skeleton twins #beach walks #boyd holbrook smut #👱‍♂️

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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 7 months

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Obey Me! Beel & Belphie with a Goth MC! : basically my thoughts on what the brothers reactions would be, how they would handle having a goth partner, ext.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Welcome to the third part of this adventure! This is the twins reactions separately but their thoughts/feelings may overlap. The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, enjoy the content. ♡

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Goth MC! who does the make up, the white foundation the "crazy" eyeliner, the black/grey or dark color eyeshadow and blush. Classic black or red lipstick with matching nail polish on the Mc's fingers. The saggy looking hair that matches the make up, oh so well. Goth MC! Who has the unkept look, but at second glance you can tell their well kept. At least to some extent. The Mc has raggy, ripped looking outfit but upon closer inspection its clear the outfit is perfectly kept up with. Goth MC! Who has an over extent looking outfit, looking like rags on rags, and the Mc has a dead looking apperance appearing to have risen from the grave. Almost the perfect example of a goth baddie. How will the brothers react?

Beel

When Goth Mc drops into the Devildom, Beel wasn't really concerned. Beel is sweet baby boy nonjudgemental he just doesn't care what others look like or wear. As long as Mc doesn't steal his food or hurt his family, he'd be chill. It might even take him some time to notice Goth Mc's appearance. Pls be patient he's always focused on food. He's the Avatar of Gluttony dude! The first time he meets Mc he doesn't pay attention, instead complains to Lucifer about being hungry. Someone feed the poor bby.

Beel finds Goth Mc's look to be unique. He thinks its cute. He can relate to the fact that some people may find Goth Mc to be scary. People somehow find this giant teddy bear to be scary all the time! Beel isn't threatened or scared by Mc's apperance. He will gladly listen to Goth Mc rant about goth culture or dark things in general while he munches on food. Beel will also gladly accompany Mc to haunted houses as long as he has food. Dont want him to go on a rampage. Beel may raise his eyebrows even jump a little in shock, but hes ultimately a great haunted house partner. He wont leave Mc behind and will even put himself between the thing thats scaring them and Mc.

Dating with Beel is adorable! Beel likes to do Goth Mc's intrests because he likes seeing Mc happy! Beel will gladly watch anytype of horror or scary film with Mc. "I'll be focused on the popcorn anyways." Although Beel is indeed focused on the popcorn. He still takes Mc's intrests seriously, he'll watch the film's and listen to Mc rant about how it was well done or poorly executed. Beel will nod along while Mc rants and occasionally say what parts he liked.

Beel will happily go out places with Goth Mc. He thinks nothing of it, he just wants to go out to eat with someone he cares about. Such a cutie. Beel may be a gentle giant, but he will gladly use his "scary" apperance to make people leave Mc alone. The poor idiot still wants to bully Mc for being goth? Dont worry Mc! Beel's always hungry! "...its bad to eat other demons..? ....i was just trying to protect you Mc..." *sad puppy Beel* Mc! Apologize! Sweet Bby did nothing wrong! Go get him a snack!

Beel doesnt care about apperance so he isnt the best with fashion gifts. However Beel takes gifts seriously and always puts so much thought into them. If he gets something from someone and it remind him of Goth Mc, he won't hesitate to give it to them. Mc might occasionally receive goth gifts from him, but Beel mostly gives them dark colored foods. For example, a black cupcake with a bat or a skeleton. Something sweet and simple like that.

Belphie

When Belphie first meets Mc in general is wack. But we wont talk about that. Goth Mc he'll give a eyebrow raise maybe even a small smirk. Belphie would defiently bully/tease Goth Mc. "...You look more dead than the skeletons inside people's coffins.. *yawn*" dont be fooled, Belphie lives for Goth Mc. Simp! Jk I just feel like belphie would really be into a Goth Mc. Belphie doesn't give a damn what someone wears. Mans can barely stay awake to care. I honestly feel like Belphie has probably been called emo or something similar. Belphie and Mc would defiantly get into playful fights over which one is better, goth or emo. Both are valid ♡

Imagine Goth Mc dating Belphie and then people at R.A.D start calling the two of them the "emo couple" the fights ..mostly playfights.. This could lead to. Like imagine some demon walking up and saying their the emo couple or calling Goth Mc, emo in general.

Goth Mc: "I'm not emo!! Belphie! you're killing my vibe" "...you think I've killed youre vibe?... *yawn* ...we both know i improved you're vibe. ...Who likes Goths anyways. *insert that cocky smirk he gives*" He says all of this playfully he is just a little shit. Just likes to tease and deflect his actual feelings.

Dating with Belphie is playful. Belphie is always teasing Mc, and he expects MC to tease him back. He'll say the rudest comment ever, but the grin on his face tells Mc that hes just playing. Hopefully. Belphie may be playful and he may bully Mc, but hes the only one allowed to bully Mc. Some random demon comes up and trash talks Goth Mc's look well- "..*bored yawn* ....you're just mad that a walking skeleton looks better than you..." Yup. Thats his way of dealing with it. He'll insult them and Mc at the same time. Belphie is a bitch mean so if he doesn't hurt the random demons feelings he'll either put the demon to sleep. If he can't do that he'll just give the demon nightmares.

Belphie doesnt do a lot of activities, he'll just sleep next to Goth Mc as they do their thing. Scary movie? Just dont wake him up by jumping around. Make up? Belphs sleeping on Mc's lap. Weird ritual? Can he still sleep on Mc's lap while they do it? Belphie straight up doesn't care man. Just sit or lay somewhere Mc, its Belphies nap time and he needs his favorite pillow.

Belphie sleeps all the time. So gifts isn't something he just randomly does often. I feel like his gifts would be cute things like goth bed attire. Oh, he was out at the store and saw this black bat plush. No he didn't get it because it reminded him of you, Mc. He got it because its soft and comfortable. Liar. If Belphie gives Mc any other gifts he either oddly found it somewhere or had one of his older siblings get it. Belphies lazy, but that doesn't mean hes not thinking of you, Mc.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Thats all for now! Hope you enjoyed babes!!♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! The side characters reactions will be coming soon. So stay tuned! You matter. You are loved! ‹𝟹

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

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denaliwrites · 6 months

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Enough of You to Dull the Pain

Cale Erendreich x Fem!Reader

Summary: (18+) You think that maybe exaggerating how you're feeling will lead to more cuddles. Instead... well...

Soundtrack: Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) by Fall Out Boy

Requests: Open!

Warnings: It's Cale Erendreich and it's smut. Choking / Suffocating / Drowning. CNC. No one dies but at least one person in this fic is getting a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Cale," you whimper, arms around your middle and clutching in pain. "Cale, it hurts so bad."

"What does, bunny?" he asks, holding an arm out for you to join him at his desk. You painfully pad into his embrace, and he carefully pulls you into his lap, all without once sparing you a glance.

"My everything," you say softly, dropping your head onto his shoulder with a pout.

He finally looks down to you, gaze sympathetic. "Did you eat something?" he asks. When you nod, he continues, "maybe it was bad."

"Maybe," you whimper, nuzzling closer. "I don't feel sick, though... just... hurty."

"Hurty, huh?" You don't miss the hint of amusement in his voice. "Are you on your period?" As you shake your head, you hear a soft tsk. Then his arms are around you, and he's easily picking you up. All you offer him by way of protest is a tiny sound of surprise.

He carries you into the bathroom and sets you down on the edge of the tub. "This'll help," he tells you as he runs the water. A gentle kiss is placed on your forehead, and then he's pulling away. You watch as he walks over to the cabinet, pulling out all his home spa goods. Your favorite face mask, shampoo and conditioner, oils, anything and everything.

He pools everything beside you, then looks up and sets about examining you. You whimper at his touch, which immediately softens. He checks your eyes, your forehead, your gums. It's a little strange, how used to this you are, but you don't complain as he continues.

Soon, your top is off, along with your bra, and he's tenderly checking your breasts. You release a low whine as his thumb brushes over your nipple, and he shoots you a knowing smirk before he gently kisses the bud and moves on.

Next, his fingers dig into your abdomen. It's nothing any doctor wouldn't do. Yet, at the barest touch, you all but cry out, hands darting out to clutch at his wrist in an attempt to stop him.

"Oh, there it is," he says softly. He apologizes by pulling you close and planting a kiss to your temple. You sink into his touch, unwilling to part from him even as he shifts to turn the water off.

Truth be told, while you are in quite a bit of pain, it's not really as bad as you're letting on. Honestly, you just want him to hold you. But when he's working, it's hard to get him to pay much attention to you.

You weren't expecting the bath, or for him to be quite this attentive. But you'll take it. Why wouldn't you? Any attention from Cale is good attention.

He's testing the water when you pull away from him, and as he does he hums in satisfaction. "That should be perfect for you, bunny."

He pulls away from you, only to pull you up to a stand. The stress on your stomach makes you whimper, but his kiss quickly chases it away. Slowly, carefully, he helps you out of your bottom layers, before he picks you up again and eases you gently into the water.

It's so hot it practically feels like it's melting you, and the moan you release isn't quite as innocent as you'd maybe have hoped -- if you were paying any attention.

You look up to Cale, and don't fail to notice the smug look he's wearing. "Oh, shut up," you whimper. He only laughs in response.

Another thing you don't fail to notice is the way his sleeves are now soaked from lowering you into the water. You think he'll be angry, but when he looks down he simply rolls his sleeves up with a shrug.

"Babe," you say softly, and his eyes are suddenly on you. "Can you massage my legs?"

"Oh, your legs are hurting now?" he asks, a playfully suspicious look in his eyes.

"Well... no... but I'd still feel better..."

He sighs for effect before he grabs the massage oil and sits down on the other side of the tub. He dabs some of the oil in his palm, closes the bottle, and puts it off to the side, then starts rubbing his hands together to warm the oil up. You watch his each and every movement, enraptured by him.

There's barely a moment for him to motion for your leg. You see his hand flex, and immediately profer the limb, draping your right leg over his lap. If he's upset about the way his trousers are now soaked, he makes no mention of it. Instead, he starts working his hands into your calf muscles, digging deep to reach the muscles that need the most attention.

He finishes with a kiss to the inside of your ankle. You withdraw your right leg and offer your left in its place. He repeats the motions, and ends that leg off with the same gesture.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks as he looks you over.

Forgetting your cover in your relaxed state, you moan, "just perfect."

You can tell by the way his eyes sharpen that you've made a mistake. Despite the nearly scalding water surrounding you, a chill dances down your spine as he drops down, hands clutching the lip of the tub on either side as he hovers over you, effectively trapping you in the water.

"I'm sorry," he starts, a dramatic flair of disbelief in his voice, "were you pretending to be sick so I'd pamper you?"

"Wh-what," you gasp, "no! No, of course not! I... I just kind of... maybe exaggerated... just a little, though, I swear!"

The way he looks at you is downright murderous, and there's no relief as he pulls back, nor as he gets up. And there's none when he starts slowly, tauntingly stripping his clothes off.

You watch in horror and fascination as he makes a show of it, his fingers lingering as he undoes each button of his shirt, as he unbuckles his belt, as he pulls down his fly. Your mouth is dry in fear, and yet you try to swallow thickly in anticipation.

He loses articles of clothing as he makes his way back to the tub, fully nude by the time he clambers in on top of you. All you can think for a moment is how fortunate it is that his tub is huge, so that you both fit easily.

All thoughts are chased away when his hand is suddenly on your throat and your head is forced back into the water.

You know you shouldn't scream, that it'll just waste air. But the sound tears out of you anyway, sending a plume of bubbles up to the surface. Even as your hands claw desperately at Cale's forearm, your hips give a weak thrust as a thrill shoots down to your cunt.

He holds you under just until the edge of too long. And then you're yanked back up, and his hold loosens just enough for you to cough and wheeze air back into your aching lungs.

"C-Cale--"

You're back under again, and this time the jolt between your legs is powerful enough to make you gasp.

You're wracked with coughs, and you don't realize you're not in the water anymore until Cale's mouth is crushed to yours. You think maybe he's giving you mouth-to-mouth, but eventually even your panicked brain knows that he's just roughly kissing you as your body dispels the water on its own.

He shifts so that he's poised above you, a predator ready to claim his kill.

"Cale?" you whimper, but he doesn't respond. "Cale--"

With a snap of his hips, his cock is thrust inside you. Keening, tears form in your eyes and your nails dig deep into his arm, still locked on your throat.

"Cale," you wheeze, desperately.

"Deep breath," he warns, and you barely have enough time to obey before he plunges you back into the water. He sinks his cock deeper at the same time, and you struggle not to cry out.

Each of his thrusts is brutally sharp, causing burning pain inside and dull, bruising pain outside. But all you can do is hold your breath and hope you can hold out -- hell, your life literally depends on it.

It doesn't take much for you to realize, even as your vision starts to darken around the edges and your mind gets hazy, that this isn't sex for him so much as Cale using you as a masturbatory aid.

Not that you mind -- you'd be perfectly wet for him, if not for the water.

And, even as the darkness closes in and you find it harder to think, you can feel pleasure growing. It's tightening in the pit of your stomach, heating you up in a way the water surrounding you never could.

Your mind, too fuzzy to focus on much of anything, wonders idly if Cale is talking to you from above the water, or if he really is just using you.

The thought, fleeting as it is, has you bucking your hips in wanton need. Cale's hand tightens around your throat, and now you're not sure if you're about to die by suffocation or drowning.

The hand on your throat presses harder down, and your ever-drifting mind connects it with his cock twitching inside you, followed by a surge of warmth spilling into your cunt.

With him finishing, you finally reach the end of your limits. Your body thrashes weakly in a desperate bid to get to air, to breathe, to live. As it does, you feel a hand at your pussy, two fingers sinking in to your cunt while the thumb plays at your clit.

You realize you're going to die, but at least Cale is sending you out with one last orgasm.

Between the air deprivation making you deliriously ecstatic, even as your body twitches in a last-ditch effort to breathe, and the hand in your cunt rocking your body with pleasure, it doesn't take long for you to reach that peak.

Your whole body goes into a rigid arch, thighs and cunt working together to crush the hand driving you to orgasm. And you can't help it, can't control it. With the last molecule of air left in your lungs, you scream.

And then you take a desperate breath in, and everything goes dark.

When you wake up, everything is sore. Your chest, your throat, your cunt. It takes you a few minutes to work through the haze, to remember why you hurt everywhere.

The next thing you take stock of is the present. You're swaddled in enough warm blankets to supply an army, and you've been laid in Cale's bed. You wonder if he's with you, until you feel something tighten around your waist and lips press to your cheek.

"You had me worried there for a second," he whispers.

You let out a breezy laugh. "You? Worried?"

"You didn't take to CPR right away," he informs you.

"Oh."

He continues, "and you've been out all day."

"Oh," you say again.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asks, as if your very near death hadn't just been the topic of conversation.

"I... yeah," you reply. You realize then that you are hungry, anyway.

"You should start with something easy. I'll make you some soup."

He withdraws and gets up, laying another kiss to your cheek as he passes.

When he gets back, you've already fallen back asleep. Your breathing is still labored and raspy. There's a twinge of guilt in his heart when he hears it. Not nearly as big or devastating as the one he felt when he thought he'd killed you, but still much more than he's used to.

He sighs, placing the soup on the nightstand beside you. Carefully, he slips into his place behind you, pulling you gently closer and holding you protectively while he waits for you to wake up again.

#cale erendreich x reader #cale erendreich x you #bad samaritan fic #bad samaritan fanfiction #cale erendreich fic #cale erendreich fanfiction #david tennant #denali strikes again #this is the crackfic to end all crackfics

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egnidres · 1 year

Text

So that's the birthday present for @zu-is-here. Happy birthday again (๑•́ ω •̀๑)

✾❦

"Please," Cross pleaded.

His lavender tears flowed in torrents, unable to resist the urge to come out of their hiding place. They crashed into a part of his lover's shoulder, which was shaking with pain. Or maybe it was only the tremors of the former guard who was unable to calm his growing anxiety.

For his part, Dream was covered with apple blossoms, appearing at the ends of his gloves and long dark sleeves, like a cruel light in infinite darkness or a vain hope in total despair, which would eventually fade and break, taking everything with it. His eye sockets were not spared from these parasites, his left eye being destroyed by the liquid of the negative feelings that covered it and his right eye being devoured by the budding buds.

None of this should have worried or frightened Killer. Yet, his feelings were all about fear. He had always not cared about Dream or Cross, being only adversaries or shipmates before they became traitors. But strangely, without even being able to explain it, he was afraid of what would happen next, which he guessed would be worse than the twins' curse.

" I can't help you. You should leave now. "

Lying did not displease the skeleton, who always preferred to hide his true intentions, reasons and emotions. If they let them through, what would happen to Nightmare? Surely they would do nothing to destroy him at the time, so they could save the broken dream. But once done, they could very well eliminate the negative, being one of Dream's basic goals since his transformation. He was the only one who had taken him under his wing, who had never betrayed him, and who had always stood by him. He couldn't abandon him after all that had happened.

" Please let us through. We need to see Nightmare, we won't do anything against you, I promise. I'll do anything you want if you save him. "

The tearful man suppressed a grimace. Cross begging for their help, to the point of offering to do anything to get him... even in his wildest dreams he would never have thought it possible. Strangely, and without even knowing why, he felt bad to see him like this; going from a powerful and proud opponent, to a mere skeleton shaking and crying like a poor terrified little child.

"Let them pass, Killer," a voice behind him intervened.

He saw the former guardian moving toward his brother, and though he longed to hold him back, he did not. He had already made his decision, and despite all of Killer's arguments, he would not change his mind. He looked away, bending to his will.

"You remember where the rooms are, I guess. Take him to one of them. I'll go see him when he wakes up. "

The monochrome thanked his former boss, before leaving quickly. The one-eyed skeleton sighed before turning back to Killer, crossing his arms, his hands clutching the purple cloth.

" I already told you to let them pass."

" I didn't want you to be in danger, we didn't know if they would kill you as soon as they saw you."

" This story has been going on for over 500 years. It has to end, no matter what. Especially since I'm the one who started it all. "

Killer tucked his knife into his jacket pocket, before inhaling painfully, his throat tight. He knew that his boss was right, everything had to end now, but he didn't want it to be the way he wanted it, not with his sacrifice. So he proposed an idea that a part of his mind strangely repulsed:

"What if we end it differently than your idea. If you don't sacrifice yourself, it could very well be Dream who does. I mean, he's suffering because of the flowers growing on him, it would just be a favour to finish him off. And as far as I know he always wanted to save you, even if it meant putting himself in danger. "

" I'm disappointed in you for thinking that it can and should end like this. "

Nightmare seemed offended by his former subordinate's words, and decided to leave the room, walking away from him.

"To me, it's just as shocking as your idea of sacrificing yourself like that," he whispered into the now empty room.

Dream began to emerge from sleep, moving his head slightly. He knew he was no longer at home, and he could tell by his brother's feelings that he was in his brother's mansion. He tried to sit up when he felt something in his hand. Even though he couldn't see, he knew it was Cross' hand, which must have fallen asleep from all the stress of the last few days.

He waited quietly for his lover to wake up, enjoying the calmness of the monochrome's feelings, which had long since stopped being so peaceful. He moved his ring with his thumb, making it gently strike his knuckles, before changing direction. Cross began to wake up in turn, rising from the bed with a soft yawn. When he noticed that the other was up, he asked hastily:

" Are you comfortable? Do you want some more pillows or to sit up maybe? Or something else?"

"No, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"Are you feeling better? Are you feeling less pain?"

" It's better. It's less painful than before."

The pain was there, throbbing, like someone having fun burning his bones in places while staying on them for a long time to make it worse. He wasn't desperately wanting and trying to tear them out like before, but it wasn't going away either. He took advantage of this moment of respite, if it could be called that, and talked about everything and nothing with his lover.

The latter reluctantly decided to leave him alone and get something to eat when his stomach and that of his lover protested. As he began to close the door, he saw Nightmare arrive silently, quietly asking if his brother was still asleep, lest he wake him by barging into the room. The monochrome smiled at him before answering in the negative, leaving the door open again, and leaving more serenely. The elder brother hesitated for a few moments before taking a deep breath and taking the first step into the room.

"Hello, Dream," he began.

"Relax a little," his brother reassured him.

" I'm perfectly relaxed."

The positive man seemed to look at him before smiling broadly and adding:

" I bet you have your arms crossed. You cross them all the time when you're uncomfortable or have too many feelings that bother you, as if you wanted to protect yourself with your arms as armour. I'm surprised you never use your tentacles like that."

"That's not true."

When he said this in an indignant voice, he uncrossed his arms and let them fall down his body, letting a discreet noise of moving clothes be heard. This action made his brother laugh, as he had heard and guessed his posture without any difficulty. Nightmare, for his part, moved closer to the bed before sitting down on the edge, beginning to knead his hands nervously.

"Is that all of Killer left? The others are gone," his brother asked.

" They've decided that their home worlds are probably not as bad as the end of this story is likely to be. I understand them, it's better, it ends well in some way for them. "

"And for you?"

"... It's better for everyone."

It didn't matter how he felt, not when he had been so horrible and manipulative to them. He'd been lucky that none of them had tried to kill him, and that Killer had decided to stay. He'd felt the latter's feelings; fear at seeing his boss's partly cracked face, incomprehension at the other skeletons' choice, only to end in a more neutral, deeper feeling. He wasn't so stupid as to not know what that feeling was, let alone to know that it wasn't like when he controlled his soul like a pawn.

He was not in control of anything, and that terrified him. But was he in control of anything at all? Before his transformation, he was just a victim unable to protect himself, mistreated by the villagers and the fate that was bearing down on him. When he had eaten most of the apples on the tree, he had promised himself that he would never be a victim of that fate again. He would destroy anyone who dared to take him back to that state or who knew nothing of the pain he had felt and continued to feel.

His brother was the first to try to " recover " him. It was at this point that he was most angry with him. He didn't understand, he couldn't understand, and that made him mad as hell. He had wanted to break that hope, not his brother. But he hadn't noticed that it was the other feelings of positivity that he had destroyed without any consideration.

He didn't notice his unhappiness, or rather he didn't want to notice it. He just wanted to control everything so he would never be the victim again. But instead, he had let his brother eat the black apple, he had let him suffer to his breaking point without any consideration for him, and he had given up and decided to run away when he had changed. Just as he had tried to escape this situation 500 years ago with the ebony apples.

"Night, calm down!"

His brother tentatively grabbed his wrist, pulling his hands away from each other. He hadn't noticed that his breathing had become more and more laboured, nor that he had scratched his palms and the backs of his hands to blood. It took him a long time to regain a steady breath, his hands shaking helplessly. When he managed to calm down, he stammered:

" I'm sorry for everything. It's my fault you're in this state. I'm the one who ate the first apple, I'm the one who destroyed your feelings and convictions without any remorse. It's my fault that you felt the need to see what I was feeling so that you could understand and help me. I don't even know how to save you from what's happening to you. I really am the worst big brother."

" Don't blame yourself for this, it's not your fault. I'm the one who made the choice and did it. And we were just kids at the time, you can't blame yourself for trying to change things. Especially since I should have seen your discomfort too. The main thing is not all the bad things we did, but how we try to change things for the better."

" ...These flowers are connected to your positive and negative feelings," Nightmare reminded, trying to change the conversation. "Both of them are trying to regain control in some way, so in order to stop all that, you have to stop their war of dominance. My negative feelings can decrease your negative feelings or increase them depending on what you want or need, until you can process them normally. I will take care of the excess negative feelings, but we have to find a way to destroy the negative effects of the black apple."

" We'll do it, don't worry."

The ex guard went into the kitchen, trying to think of what would be good for his lover, hesitating between a hot meal, or a lighter one. Both had their advantages, but he couldn't put a simple decision on it.

"So, have you finally decided to come here? Or maybe he ordered you to leave because he was tired of seeing you around."

The razor-sharp words and Killer's dark smile effectively hit their target: Cross. The latter seemed to tense up, his jaw tensing and his knuckles digging into his palms.

"Why won't you leave me alone? I didn't do anything to you."

"You didn't do anything? You're starting to have the same memory as Ink. Or maybe you're so stupid that even she decided to leave."

" What are you after? Always provoking you will eventually get the backlash. And for what? Just to piss off the world, to reach the limit, and to see the anger in the eyes of those you piss off. The Killer I knew knew where to stop at least."

Killer's sadistic laughter echoed around the room, before calming down, leaving only a sneer stretching his lips.

" The Killer you knew? But you never knew him. You never knew me. And do you know why? Because all you've ever cared about is yourself. Only YOU, only YOUR emotions, only YOUR wishes are important to you. No one is ever interesting enough for you to care about. You're just selfish."

Tears appeared in the corners of Cross's eye sockets, unobtrusive, but glistening slightly in the light of the sunny day. The skeleton with the ringed soul drew closer before adding:

"Aww, the guard who considered himself powerful and able to solve all problems by himself is crying. Do you want a handkerchief maybe? Such a shame I don't have one, don't you think? You know what they call people like you? Self-centred. Just like Error, you're no better than him. But if I understand correctly you inherited it from your Gaster. We can't expect you to be different, after all, like father like son."

The monochrome slammed him hard against the wall, his forearm latching onto the other skeleton's windpipe, exerting a pressure that was oddly mild compared to his anger. His pupils were now just two red balls, and his cheeks were covered in the same dark tears as the tearful one. The latter was not the least bit frightened or impressed, his smile stretching even further.

"What are you waiting for ? You want to hit me, I can see it a mile away. Come on punch, you know it feels good, you've felt it before when slaughtering people from other universes. Eh. And then it's self-proclaimed guard. So pathetic.

"All you want to do is destroy the people closest to you, opposed Cross. You say I'm self-centred, but you're no better. All you care about is the pleasure you get from the pain you cause them. You just need to hurt them to feel like you don't care and that your actions mattered to someone for once. You just need to feel like you exist because of all the new words and actions you do, regardless of anyone else. You just need-"

"I just needed you. I just needed you to stay or tell me to my face why you decided to leave. I needed to understand what had gone so wrong."

Killer's scream echoed around the room, startling them both. He didn't want to give him that confession, he didn't want to show how weak he'd been for giving Cross his trust. He didn't want to show how hurt he had been by his abandonment. Yet his aching soul had decided otherwise, as if the other skeleton's words had cut him thin and deep, when he wasn't supposed to care about his opinion. Why hadn't he managed to make fun of it as usual?

" Killer," Cross tried.

His interlocutor pushed him with all his strength, making him almost lose his balance, having to step back to avoid falling. Taking advantage of his distance, he left quickly, not wanting to face him anymore. He was tired of his feelings taking over. He was tired of not being able to not care about everything around him like he used to. He was tired of not understanding the mess that was his feelings.

He went into his room, closing the door as quickly as possible as if he was afraid the other had followed him. He moved towards the door of his bathroom, only to stop when one of his two cats came towards him, already demanding to be petted. At his cat's silent command, he sat quietly cross-legged on the floor, letting it settle comfortably on his legs.

His soul was deformed, so much so that one could hardly differentiate white from red. He hadn't even noticed that his black tears had started to flow when he was in the kitchen, and had remained even now, though they created a much smaller wake. He tried to find the other cat with his eyes, and saw it on his bed, sleeping peacefully.

Soft sounds were heard against the door, and thinking it was Cross, he decided not to answer, not wanting to see him at all. He knew that Cross would try to talk to him about what he had said, wanting to understand and help him. But he was not yet ready to show that part of himself. Not with him. The door opened quietly, revealing Nightmare. He sat down next to the other cat, making it move in its sleep.

" I told him to go back to my brother and give him his food. "

He knew who he was talking about, suspecting that Cross had discussed it with him, probably for fear of having done something wrong that he already regretted. A spike of pain struck his soul, which aware of the pain he had done to the monochrome suddenly twisted more than it had before. He didn't want to hurt him or make him regret his decision. After all, he had seen him with Dream before his corruption. He'd seen him happy and even though it had hurt him to not be the source of his happiness, he'd been glad to see him like this.

Nightmare sighed before moving closer to him and crouching down in front of him. He wiped away his former subordinate's tears with his sleeve, staining it black, before gently declaring:

"You don't need to feel so much guilt. If you really regret what you tell to him, you just have to talk to him, but you also have to stop repressing your emotions. Your soul will always hurt you because of it. Talk to him and talk to Dream, things that stay on your heart are not good things. "

Then he left, leaving him to think about it quietly. He went to his brother's room, before entering it and asking to speak to the monochrome, who reluctantly accepted, following him into the living room, which was one of the closest rooms.

Killer walked out of his room, before heading to the room where the positive was. He entered the room, surprised at the absence of the monochrome, before slumping down on the seat the latter had set up. He began to play with his knife, occupying his hands and trying not to feel all the feelings that were flooding into him, trying to annihilate them as much as possible.

" Hi Killer."

Dream's calm voice rose, deeper than before his transformation and filled with hidden pain. The maudlin man smiled his usual fake smile, before standing up and pointing his weapon at the other skeleton, touching the latter's throat but making no move to hurt him. He looked at it, feeling as calm as if he were standing in front of a fire in a fireplace, listening to the sound of the crackling flames and watching their controlled dance. Strangely, the knife began to tremble and slowly lower. Sadness was the first feeling he felt at that moment. Then anger and resentment. It was not directed at the gardian, but at himself. He didn't understand why, but for the first time in years, he felt pity for him and was unable to do what he wanted to do. He just wanted it all to change, but part of his soul was looking forward to it. Part of his soul didn't want to kill him.

" Why do I hesitate? Why didn't I dare do this? We haven't found a way to save you yet. It would just be doing you a favor. You wouldn't suffer anymore, and yet I can't. "

" Sometimes it's the choices that feel right that hurt the most. You've changed, Killer. You are able to feel compassion again, you are able to feel emotions again. You may not be able to understand or process them all yet, but you will one day. "

" What makes you think I won't kill you? I hesitated to kill my brother once, and yet I did it. What makes you think I won't do the same to you? "

" Your feelings tell me. I'm glad at least I could see the change in you. I know that one day you'll be able to heal all your wounds, even if it takes time. "

The blind man's sincere and radiant smile finally got the better of his interlocutor. The latter lowered his weapon completely, his tears flowed abundantly, black in his right eye socket, and translucent on the left, where his white pupil was visible. He added in a broken voice:

" I don't want to kill you, but I don't want to see you suffer either. I'm just an idiot."

" It's okay. Everything is going to be okay. "

As he said these words, the positive took the other skeleton's hand. The latter sat down on the bed and hugged him, unable to control his sobs. Dream returned his embrace, his flower-covered eye socket flooded with tears.

The other two skeletons, Cross and Nightmare, looked on, their throats tight. As complicated as it had been for both of them, especially for the monochrome, they had let Killer do as he pleased, not entirely sure if he would decide to spare him.

Several days passed, the twins tried to calm the growth of the flowers with the negativity of the elder, taking as much as possible from his brother. At first, the result was inconclusive, if not the opposite. The flowers didn't grow anymore, but the ones already there burned even more Dream, to the point that Cross begged the negative to stop in the face of his lover's screams of pain, starting to threaten him when he didn't stop. Killer had reacted at this point, quickly pulling him away.

When he had finished, Dream had noticed that the pain had dropped drastically, as if it had returned to where it had started, as if it were a slight burn. Then after a few days, they noticed that no more plants were growing. The ones that were left gradually began to wither, and one by one they began to fall off, taking the pain with them.

The negativity flowed away as well, due to the guardian now being able to deal with his negative feelings better, leaving his left eye socket cracked and visible. His right eye socket was cleared of parasites, his pupil no longer able to see properly from a distance.

Killer avoided Cross as much as possible, not wanting to talk about what was on his mind. Or rather, not being able to put words to it. But his friend's efforts to reassure him gradually began to bear fruit. He wasn't yet at the point where he could trust him with his soul like he had with Nightmare, but he was getting better at not trying to hurt him with his words whenever he tried to find out how he was or wanted time with him.

Even though Nightmare was trying to keep everyone away from him at times, probably because of his negative feelings or because of his remorse, he was glad that the people most important to him had decided to stay close to him.

✾❦

— Pitié, implora Cross.

Ses larmes lavandes coulaient à torrent, incapable de résister à cette envie de sortir de leur cachette. Elles se fracassèrent sur une partie de l’épaule de son amant, qui tremblait de douleur. Ou peut-être était-ce seulement les tremblements de l’ancien garde qui était incapable de calmer son anxiété croissante.

Dream quant à lui, était recouvert de fleurs de pommier, apparaissant aux extrémités de ses gants et ses longues manches sombres, comme une cruelle lumière dans des ténèbres infinies ou un espoir vain dans le désespoir le plus total, qui finirait par s’éteindre et se briser, emportant tout dans son fracas. Ses orbites n’étaient pas épargnées de ces parasites, son œil gauche étant détruit par le liquide des sentiments négatifs qui le recouvrer et son œil droit dévoré par les bourgeons naissants.

Rien de tout ça aurait dû inquiéter ou effrayer Killer. Pourtant, ses sentiments n’étaient tournés que sur la peur. Il s’était toujours moquer de Dream ou Cross, n’étant que des adversaires ou des compagnons de bord avant de devenir des traîtres. Mais bizarrement, sans même pouvoir l’expliquer, il avait peur de la suite qu’il devinait être pire que la malédiction des jumeaux.

— Je ne peux pas vous aider. Vous devriez partir maintenant.

Mentir ne déplaisait pas au squelette, qui préférait toujours cacher ses véritables intentions, raisons et émotions. S’ils les laissaient passer, qu’adviendra-t-il de Nightmare ? Ils ne feront sûrement rien pour le détruire sur le moment, pour pouvoir sauver le rêve brisé. Mais une fois fait, ils pourraient très bien éliminer le négatif, étant l’un des objectifs de base de Dream depuis sa transformation. Il était le seul à l’avoir pris sous son aile, à ne l’avoir jamais trahi, et à être toujours rester à ses côtés. Il ne pouvait pas l’abandonner à son tour après tout ce qui s’était passer.

— S’il te plaît laisse-nous passer. On a besoin de voir Nightmare, on ne fera rien contre vous, je te le promets. Je ferais tout ce que vous désirez si vous le sauver.

Le larmoyant réprima une grimace. Cross qui implorait leur aide, au point de proposer de faire n’importe quoi pour l’avoir… même dans ses rêves les plus fous il n’aurait jamais pensé ça possible. Bizarrement, et sans même pouvoir savoir pourquoi, il se sentait mal de le voir comme ça ; passer d’un adversaire puissant et fier, à un simple squelette tremblant et pleurant comme un pauvre petit enfant terrifié.

— Laisse-les passer Killer, intervint une voix derrière lui.

Il vit l’ancien gardien se dirigeait vers son frère, et même s’il désirait ardemment le retenir, il n’en fis rien. Il avait déjà pris sa décision, et malgré tout les arguments de Killer, il ne changeait pas d’avis. Il détourna son regard, se pliant à sa volonté.

— Tu te souviens où sont les chambres je suppose. Emmène le dans l’une d’elle. J’irai le voir lorsqu’il sera réveiller.

Le monochrome remercia son ancien boss, avant de partir rapidement. Le squelette borgne quant à lui soupira avant de se retourner vers Killer, croisant ses bras, ses mains serrant le tissu violet.

— Je t’avais déjà dit de les laissait passer.

— Je ne voulais pas que tu soit en danger, on ne savait pas s’ils n’allaient pas te tuer dès qu’ils te verraient.

— Cette histoire dure depuis plus de 500 ans. Il faut qu’elle se termine, peu importe comment. D’autant plus que c’est par ma faute que tout cela a commencé.

Killer rangea son couteau dans la poche de son blouson, avant d’inspirer douloureusement, sa gorge serré. Il savait que son boss avait raison, tout devait se terminer maintenant, mais il ne voulait pas que se soit comme il le voulait, pas avec son sacrifice. Alors il proposa une idée qu’une partie de son esprit répugnait étrangement :

— Et si on la terminait autrement que ton idée. Si tu ne te sacrifie pas, ça pourrait très bien être Dream qui le fais. Je veux dire, il souffre à cause de ses fleurs qui pousse sur lui, ce serait juste lui rendre service de l’achever. Et à ce que je sache il a toujours voulu te sauver, quitte à se mettre en danger pour ça.

— Tu me déçois de penser que ça peux et dois se terminer comme ça.

Nightmare sembla offusqué par les paroles de son ancien subordonné, et décida de partir de la pièce, s’éloignant de lui.

— Pour moi, c’est tout aussi choquant que ton idée de te sacrifier comme ça, chuchota-t-il dans la pièce dorénavant vide.

Dream commença à émerger du sommeil, bougeant légèrement la tête. Il savait qu’il n’était plus chez lui, et il pouvait savoir grâce aux sentiments de son frère qu’il était dans le manoir de ce dernier. Il tenta de se redresser quand il senti qu’il tenait quelque chose dans la main. Même s’il ne pouvait pas voir, il savait que c’était la main de Cross, qui avait dû s’assoupir à cause de tout le stress des derniers jours accumulé.

Il attendit tranquillement que son amant se réveille, profitant du calme des sentiments du monochrome, qui avait depuis longtemps arrêté d’être aussi apaisé. Il bougea sa bague avec son pouce, la faisant doucement heurter ses phalanges, avant de changer de sens. Cross commença à se réveiller à son tour, se relevant du lit en bayant doucement. Lorsqu’il remarqua que l’autre était debout, il demanda précipitamment :

— Est-ce que tu es bien installé ? Tu veux un peu plus d’oreillers ou te redresser peut-être ? Ou quelque chose d’autre ?

— Non, ça va ne t’en fais pas.

— Est-ce que tu vas mieux ? Tu as moins mal ?

— Ça va mieux. C’est moins douloureux que tout à l’heure.

La douleur était là, lancinante, comme quelqu’un s’amusant à brûler ses os par endroit tout en restant longtemps dessus pour aggraver son ressenti. Il n’en était pas à vouloir et essayer absolument de les arracher comme tout à l’heure, mais elle ne partait pas non plus. Il profitait de ce moment de répit, si on pouvait l’appeler ainsi, et parla de tout et de rien avec son amant.

Ce dernier décida à contre-coeur de le laisser seul et de chercher à manger lorsque son estomac et celui de son amant protestèrent. Lorsqu’il commença à fermer la porte, il vit Nightmare arriver silencieusement, demandant doucement si son frère dormait encore, de peur de le réveiller en faisant irruption dans la chambre. Le monochrome lui sourit avant de lui répondre à la négative, laissant de nouveau la porte ouverte, et de partir plus serein. L’aîné, quant à lui, hésita quelques instants avant de prendre une grande inspiration en faisant le premier pas dans la pièce.

— Bonjour Dream, commença-t-il.

— Détend-toi un peu, le rassura son frère.

— Je suis parfaitement détendu.

Le positif sembla le regarder avant de sourire de toutes ses dents en ajoutant :

— Tu as les bras croisés je pari. Tu les croises tout le temps quand tu es mal à l’aise ou que tu ressens trop de sentiments qui te dérange, comme si tu voulais te protéger avec tes bras comme armure. Ça m’étonne d’ailleurs que tu n’es jamais utilisé tes tentacules de cet manière.

— C’est pas vrai.

Lorsqu’il prononça ses paroles d’une voix offensée, il décroisa les bras les laissant retomber le long de son corps, laissant entendre un discret bruit de vêtement en mouvement. Cet action fit rigoler son frère, qui avait très bien entendu et deviné sa posture sans aucune difficulté. Nightmare, quant à lui, se rapprocha du lit avant de s’assoir sur le bord, commençant à malaxait nerveusement ses mains.

— Il ne reste plus que Killer ? Les autres sont partis, demanda son frère.

— Ils ont décidé que leurs univers de base était sûrement moins pire que ce que risquait d’être la fin de cette histoire. Je les comprends, c’est mieux, ça se termine bien d’une certaine manière pour eux.

— Et pour toi ?

— … C’est mieux pour tout le monde.

Son ressenti n’avait pas d’importance, pas quand il avait été aussi horrible et manipulateur envers eux. Il avait été chanceux qu’aucun d’eux n’essaye de le tuer, et que Killer décide de rester. Il avait ressenti les sentiments de ce dernier ; de la peur en voyant le visage en parti fissuré de son boss, l’incompréhension du choix des autres squelettes, pour ensuite se terminer en un sentiment plus neutre, plus profond. Il n’était pas idiot au point de ne pas savoir ce que ce sentiment était, et encore moins pour savoir que se n’était pas comme quand il contrôlait son âme comme un pion.

Il ne contrôlait plus rien, et cela le terrifiait. Mais est-ce qu’il contrôlait quelque chose de base ? Avant sa transformation, il étais juste une victime incapable de se protéger, maltraiter par les villageois et le destin qui s’acharner sur lui. Quand il avait mangé presque toutes les pommes de l’arbre, il s’était juré ne plus jamais être la victime de ce destin. Il allait détruire toutes les personnes qui oserait le ramener à cet état ou qui ne connaissais rien à la douleur qui avait ressenti et continuait de ressentir.

Son frère fut le premier à essayer de le « retrouver ». C’est à ce moment-là qu’il lui en avait le plus voulu. Il ne comprenait pas, il ne pouvait pas comprendre, et ça l’énervait au plus haut point. Il avait voulu briser cet espoir, pas son frère. Mais il n’avait pas remarquer que c’était les autres sentiments du positif qu’il avait détruit sans aucune considération.

Il n’avait pas remarquer son mal-être, ou plutôt il n’avait pas voulu le remarquer. Il voulait juste tout contrôler pour ne plus jamais être la victime. Mais au lieu de ça, il avait laisser son frère manger la pomme noire, il l’avait laisser souffrir jusqu’à son point de rupture sans aucune considération pour lui, et il avait laisser tomber en décidant de fuir quand il avait changé. Exactement comme il avait essayer de fuir cet situation il y a de 500 ans avec les pommes ébènes.

— Night calme-toi !

Son frère lui pris à tâtons le poignet, éloignant ses mains l’une de l’autre. Il n’avait pas remarquer que sa respiration était devenue de plus en plus saccadée, ni qu’il s’était griffait à sang ses paumes et le dos de ses mains. Il prit un temps considérable à reprendre une respiration stable, ses mains tremblantes sans qu’il puisse les calmer. Lorsqu’il arriva à se calmer, il bredouilla :

— Je suis désolé pour tout. C’est de ma faute si tu es dans cet état. C’est moi qui ai mangé la première pomme, c’est moi qui ai détruit tes sentiments et convictions sans aucun remord. C’est de ma faute si tu as ressenti le besoin de voir ce que je ressentais pour pouvoir me comprendre et m’aider. Je ne sais même pas comment faire pour te sauver de ce qui t’arrives. Je suis vraiment le pire des grands frères.

— Ne te blâme pas pour ça, ce n’est pas de ta faute. C’est moi qui est pris ce choix et qui l’ai fais. Et nous étions que des enfants à l’époque tu ne peux pas t’en vouloir d’avoir essayer de changer les choses. D’autant plus que j’aurais aussi dû voir ton mal-être. Le principal ce n’est pas toutes les mauvaises actions qu’on a fait, mais comment nous essayons de changer les choses pour le mieux.

— …Ses fleurs sont reliés à tes sentiments positifs et négatifs, rappela Nightmare en essayant de changer de conversation. Les deux essaient de reprendre le contrôle d’une certaine manière, alors pour pouvoir arrêter tous cela, il faut pouvoir arrêter leur guerre de dominance. Mes sentiments négatifs peuvent diminuer tes sentiments négatifs ou les augmenter selon ce que tu désires ou selon ce que tu as besoin, jusqu’à ce que tu puisse les assimiler normalement. Je m’occuperai du surplus de sentiments négatifs, mais il faut qu’on trouve un moyen détruire les effets néfastes de la pomme noire.

— On y arrivera, ne t’en fais pas.

L’ancien garde rentra dans la cuisine, essayant de réfléchir à ce qui pourrait être bien pour son amant, hésitant entre un repas chaud, ou un repas plus léger. Les deux avait des avantages, mais il ne n’arrivait pas à mettre une simple décision dessus.

— Alors, tu as enfin décider de venir ici ? Ou alors il t’as peut-être ordonner de partir parce qu’il en avait marre de te voir autour de lui.

Les mots aussi tranchants qu’un rasoir accompagné du sourire sombre de Killer frappèrent avec efficacité sa cible : Cross. Ce dernier semblait se tendre, sa mâchoire se crispant, de même que ses phalanges qui se plantèrent dans ses paumes.

— Pourquoi tu ne me laisse pas tranquille. Je ne t’ai rien fais.

— Tu n’as rien fais ? Tu commence à avoir la même mémoire qu’Ink dis donc. Ou peut-être que tu es tellement stupide que même elle a décider de se barrer.

— Tu cherche quoi ? À toujours provoquer tu vas finir par avoir le retour du bâton. Et tout ça pour quoi ? Juste pour faire chier le monde, atteindre les limites, et voir la colère dans les yeux de ceux que tu emmerde. Le Killer que je connaissais savait où s’arrêter au moins.

Le rire sadique de Killer s’éleva dans la pièce, avant de se calmer, ne laissant qu’un rictus étiré ses lèvres.

— Le Killer que tu connaissais ? Mais tu ne l’a jamais connu. Tu ne m’as jamais connu. Et tu sais pourquoi ? Parce que ce qui t’as toujours intéressé est ta petite personne. Seulement TOI, seulement TES émotions, seulement TES souhaits ont de l’importance à tes yeux. Personne n’est jamais assez intéressant pour que tu puisse t’y intéresser. Tu n’es qu’un égoïste.

Des larmes apparaissaient aux coins des orbites de Cross, discrètes, mais brillant légèrement à la lumière de la journée ensoleillée. Le squelette à l’âme cerclée se rapprocha avant d’ajouter :

— Aww, le garde qui se considérait comme puissant et capable de résoudre tout les problèmes par lui-même pleure. Tu veux un mouchoir peut-être ? Tellement dommage que j’en ai pas, tu ne trouve pas ? Tu sais comment on appelle les personnes comme toi ? Des égocentriques. Juste comme Error, tu vaux pas mieux que lui. Mais si j’ai bien compris tu l’as hérité de ton Gaster. On peut pas te demander d’être différent, après tout, tel père tel fils.

Le monochrome le plaqua violemment contre le mur, son avant-bras se logeant contre la trachée de l’autre squelette, exerçant une pression bizarrement assez légère par rapport à sa colère. Ses pupilles n’étais plus que deux billes rouges, et ses joues étaient recouvert des mêmes larmes sombres que le larmoyant. Ce dernier n’était pas le moins du monde effrayé ou impressionné, son sourire s’étirant encore plus.

— Qu’est-ce que tu attends, tu as envie de me frapper, ça se voit à des kilomètres. Allez frappe, tu sais que ça fais du bien, tu l’as déjà ressenti en massacrant les personnes d’autres univers. Hé. Et après ça s’auto-proclame garde. Tellement pathétique.

— Tout ce que tu cherche, c’est de détruire les personnes proche de toi, contra Cross. Tu dis que je suis égocentrique, mais tu n’es pas mieux. Tout ce qui t’intéresse est le plaisir que te procure la souffrance que tu leur causes. Tu as juste besoin de les blesser pour avoir l’impression que tu te fiche de tout et que tes actions ont eu de l’importance sur quelqu’un pour une fois. Tu as juste besoin de te sentir exister grâce à toutes ces paroles et ces actions nouvelles que tu fais, sans considération pour quiconque. Tu as juste besoin-

— J’avais juste besoin de toi. J’avais juste besoin que tu reste ou tu me dises en face pourquoi tu avais décidé de partir. J’avais besoin de comprendre ce qui avait aussi mal tourné.

Le cri de Killer s’éleva dans toute la pièce, les surprenant tout les deux. Il ne voulais pas lui faire ses aveux-là, il ne voulais pas montrer à quelle point il avais été faible d’avoir donner sa confiance à Cross. Il ne voulait pas montrer à quel point il avait été blesser par son abandon. Pourtant son âme douloureuse en avait décidé autrement, comme si les paroles de l’autre squelette l’avais finement et profondément coupée, alors qu’il étais supposé se ficher de son avis. Pourquoi n’avait-il pas réussi à s’en moquer comme à son habitude ?

— Killer, tenta Cross.

Son interlocuteur le poussa de toute ses forces, le faisant presque perdre l’équilibre, devant reculer pour ne pas tomber. Profitant de sa distance, il partit rapidement, ne voulant plus lui faire face. Il en avait marre de ses sentiments qui prenait le dessus. Il en avait marre de ne plus réussir à se moquer de tout ce qui l’entourait comme avant. Il en avait marre de ne pas comprendre tout ce bordel qu’était ses sentiments.

Killer rentra dans sa chambre, fermant la porte le plus rapidement possible comme s’il avait peur que l’autre l’aies suivi. Il se rapprocha de la porte de sa salle de bain, avant de s’arrêter lorsque l’un de ses deux chats arriva vers lui, réclamant déjà des caresses. Devant l’ordre silencieux de son animal, il s’assit tranquillement en tailleur au sol, le laissant s’installer confortablement sur ses jambes.

Son âme était difforme, à telle point que l’on ne pouvait presque plus distinguer le blanc du rouge. Il n’avais même remarquer que ses larmes noires avaient commencé à couler lorsqu’il était dans la cuisine, et qu’elles étaient restées encore maintenant, même si elles créaient un sillage beaucoup moins important. Il essaya de trouver l’autre chat du regard, et le vit sur son lit, en train de dormir paisiblement.

Des sons discrets se fis entendre contre la porte, et croyant que c’était Cross, il décida de ne pas répondre, le voulant plus du tout le voir. Il savait que ce dernier essayerait de lui parler de se qu’il avait dit, voulant le comprendre et l’aider. Mais lui n’était pas encore prêt à montrer cette partie de lui-même. Pas avec lui. La porte s’ouvrît discrètement, révélant Nightmare. Il s’assit à côté de l’autre chat, le faisant bouger dans son sommeil.

— Je lui ai dit de retourner voir mon frère et de lui donner son repas.

Il savait de qui il parlait, se doutant que Cross en aies discuter avec lui, sûrement de peur d’avoir fait quelque chose de mal qu’il regrettait déjà. Un pic de douleur frappa son âme, qui consciente du mal qu’il avait fait au monochrome s’était soudain tordu plus qu’elle ne l’était avant. Il ne voulait pas le blesser ou lui faire regretter sa décision. Après tout, il l’avait déjà vu avec Dream avant sa corruption. Il l’avait vu heureux et même si ça l’avait blesser de ne pas être la source de son bonheur, il avait été réjouis de le voir comme ça.

Nightmare soupira avant de se rapprocher de lui et de s’accroupir en face de lui. Il enleva les larmes de son ancien subordonné avec sa manche, la tâchant de noir, avant de doucement déclarer :

— Tu n’as pas besoin de ressentir autant de culpabilité. Si tu regrettes vraiment ce que tu lui as, tu as juste à lui en parler, mais tu dois aussi arrêter de refouler tes émotions. Ton âme te fera toujours souffrir à cause de ça. Parle-lui et parle à Dream, les choses qui reste sur le cœur ne sont pas de bonnes choses.

Puis il partit, le laissant réfléchir à tout cela tranquillement. Il se dirigea vers la chambre de son frère, avant d’y rentrait et de demander à parler au monochrome, qui accepta à contre cœur, le suivant dans le salon qui était une des pièce les plus proches.

Killer sortit de sa chambre, avant de se diriger vers la pièce où se trouvait le positif. Il entra dans la pièce, surpris par l'absence du monochrome, avant de s'affaler sur le siège que ce dernier avait installé. Il commença à jouer avec son couteau, occupant ses mains et essayer de ne pas ressentir tous les sentiments qui le submerger, essayant de les annihilés le plus possible.

— Bonjour Killer.

La voix calme de Dream s’éleva, plus grave qu’avant sa transformation et empli de douleur dissimulé. Le larmoyant souris avec son même sourire de façade habituelle, avant de se lever et de pointer son arme vers l’autre squelette, touchant la gorge de ce dernier mais ne faisant aucun mouvement pour le blesser. Il le regardait, avec cette impression qu’il était aussi calme que s’il restait devant le feu d’une cheminée, écoutant le bruit du crépitement des flammes et regardant leurs danses contrôlés. Étrangement, le couteau commença à trembler et à se baisser doucement.

La tristesse fus le premier sentiment qu’il ressentis à cet instant. Puis la colère et la rancoeur. Ce n’était pas tourné vers le gardien, mais envers lui-même. Il ne comprenait pas pourquoi, mais pour la première fois depuis des années, il ressentais de la pitié pour lui et était incapable de faire cet action qu’il désirait. Il voulait juste que tout ça change, mais une partie de son âme se réjouissait de ça. Une partie de son âme ne voulait pas tuer le gardien.

— Pourquoi j’hésite ? Pourquoi je n’ose pas faire ça ? On a trouvé aucun moyen de te sauver pour l’instant. Ce serait juste te rendre service. Tu ne souffrirais plus, et pourtant je n’y arrives pas.

— Parfois c’est les choix qui nous semble les plus juste qui nous font le plus mal. Tu as changé, Killer. Tu es capable de nouveau de ressentir de la compassion, tu es capable de nouveau de ressentir à nouveau des émotions. Tu as du mal à toutes les comprendre ou les assimiler pour l'instant, mais tu y arriveras un jour.

— Qu’est ce qui te fais dire que je ne vais pas te tuer ? J’ai déjà hésité pour tuer mon frère et pourtant je l’ai fais. Qu’est-ce qui te dis que je ne vais pas faire pareil avec toi ?

— Tes sentiments me le disent. Je suis heureux au moins d’avoir pus voir ce changement en toi. Je sais qu’un jour tu arriveras à panser toutes tes plaies, même si ça prendra du temps.

Le sourire sincère et radieux de l’aveugle finit par avoir raison de son interlocuteur. Ce dernier baissa entièrement son arme, ses larmes coulèrent abondamment, noires sur son orbite droite, et translucide à gauche, là où sa pupille blanche était visible. Il ajouta d’une voix brisée :

— Je ne veux pas te tuer, mais je ne veux pas te voir souffrir non plus. Je suis qu’un idiot.

— Ça va aller. Tout va bien se passer.

En disant ses mots, le positif pris la main de l’autre squelette. Ce dernier s’assit sur le lit, tout en le prenant dans les bras, incapable de contrôler ses sanglots. Dream lui rendit son étreinte, son orbite recouverte de fleurs étant inondée de larmes.

Les deux autres squelettes, Cross et Nightmare les regardaient, la gorge serrée. Même si cela avait été compliquer pour les deux, surtout pour le monochrome, ils avaient laisser Killer agir à sa guise, ne sachant pas totalement s’il déciderait de l’épargner.

Plusieurs jours passèrent, les jumeaux essayèrent de calmer la croissance des fleurs avec la négativité de l’ainé, prenant le plus possible celle de son frère. Au début, le résultat était peu concluant, pour ne pas dire l’inverse. Les fleurs ne poussait plus, mais celles déjà présentent brûlèrent encore plus Dream, au point que Cross supplie le négatif d’arrêter face aux cris de douleur de son amant, commençant à le menacer en voyant qu’il n’arrêtait pas. Killer avait réagis à ce moment, l’éloignant rapidement.

Lorsqu’il avait fini, Dream avait remarquer que la douleur avait drastiquement baissé, comme si elle était revenu au point de départ, comme de légères brûlures. Puis après quelques jours, ils avaient remarqué que plus aucune plantes ne pousser. Celles qui rester commencèrent petit à petit à flétrir, et à se détacher une par une, emportant la douleur avec elles.

Les écoulements de négativité partirent aussi, dû au gardien qui arrivait dorénavant à mieux gérer ses sentiments négatifs, laissant son orbite gauche fissurée visible. Son orbite droite, quand à elle fut débarrassée de ses parasites, sa pupille ne pouvant plus voir correctement de loin.

Killer évitait le plus possible Cross, ne voulant pas lui parler de qu’il avait sur le cœur. Ou plutôt n’arrivant pas à poser des mots dessus. Mais les efforts de son ami pour le rassurer commencèrent peu à peu à porter leur fruits. Il n’était pas encore au point de lui confier son âme comme avec Nightmare, mais il réussissait de plus en plus à ne plus essayer de le blesser avec ses paroles dès qu’il essayait de savoir comment il allait ou de vouloir du temps avec lui.

Même si Nightmare essayait par moment d’éloigner tout le monde de lui, sûrement à cause de ses sentiments négatifs ou à cause de ses remords, il était heureux que les personnes les plus importantes à ses yeux aient décidé de rester près de lui.

#undertale #nightmare #au #ua #cross #killer #dream #flowerfell dream #writing #ecriture

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tblsomedoodles · 1 year

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If the twins leave Draxum but don't go to the lair (understandable,) where would they go?

Other than the streets, I can only imagine that they'd somehow end up under Hueso's care. Sure, they're kinda iffy about adults, but Leo's been shown to have some instinct about who can or can't be trusted (Big Mama.)

Bone Man would have a heart attack each time they snuck out to either visit or rescue their little brother.

Aw, Leo and Donnie introducing Mikey to Run of the Mill, where he doesn't have to hide that he's a mutant.

I've been thinking about this idea all day and i absolute love it! : ) Thank you!!!

B/c the twins really wouldn't go to the lair immediately but they can't stay with Draxum after they went against him like that. So i imagine they'd try to take care of themselves in NYC (b/c they don't really feel safe in the hidden city since draxum's place is there.) But they've never had to take care of themselves like this before.

So Hueso could easily catch sight of one (or both) of them while taking the trash out or something. (maybe catches one of them going through his trash or whatever?) One way or another, he realizes they aren't in a good position life wise and need help. A revelation soon followed by the realization that they're exceptionally skittish and won't just let him help.

So he does what any decent restaurant owning skeleton man would do, starts trying to earn their trust with pizza.

It works. slowly, very slowly. At first they won't take it from him, or even take it if they see him near it. So he leaves the boxes on top the trash can, even going so far as to pretend they are orders that never got picked up or were made wrong.

Eventually they start taking it while he's still there and occasionally Leo will get brave and briefly talk to him before Donnie drags him away to wherever they're staying.

At some point they begin to genuinely trust him, and neither side is quite sure when that happened lol. But eventually Hueso becomes the person they go to when there's something wrong that they can't handle.

(I'm thinking that Leo might get sick and it spooks Donnie so bad that he goes to Hueso for help, and that's one of the rare times Donnie verbally speaks. Also possibly how they end up living at Run of the Mill. But i'm not entirely sure yet.)

But yeah, Hueso would have his hands full taking care of those two lol. Especially once they start acting like kids around him. (I think they'd both be banned from the kitchen, Leo because he's set fire to his fireproof oven mitts five times, and Donnie b/c he keeps getting caught taking apart appliances.) He tries to keep them busy as part time waiters, but Donnie intimidates the customers by purposefully staring silently at them with a pen, and Leo will not stop talking long enough to take their orders.

SO many restrurant shenanigans, so little time lol.

But yes! Thank you! They are definitely going to be hanging out with Hueso for quite some time now! (even if they end up driving the man insane while doing it.)

Thanks again!

#asks #tmnt #rottmnt #mikey's imaginary friends

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happyk44 · 1 month

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What powers would you give to a child of Thanatos?

I've actually thought about this a lot! Naturally there's some overlap between Thanatos and Hades, but I like to expand it out a little bit to include some extras - such as Hypnos and Thanatos being twins, so some like dream travel would be neat because you just know Hypnos accidentally made Than pass out a lot in their childhood, and Thanatos being Erebus's son so I love the idea of them being granted some shadows/darkness powers as well.

Death touch: being able to kill someone with just a touch

Shadow-travel: bonus from grandpa and grandma

Being able to manipulate darkness/blend into darkness: another bonus from grandpa and grandma, as well as the fact that repears are invisible to the living

Seeing/touching ghosts: obvious, lol, shared with Hermes' kids as a pyschopomp thing

Seeing/sensing morality, aka how close someone is to death, as well as when death occurs

Being able to travel through dreams (albeit with some limitations and struggle)

WINGS!

Look

Maybe not all of them have wings, but some of them do because I would like some of them to be little angels of death like their dad, like maybe it's not a physical limb and it's more of a darkness, shadow thing, but look.

Wings

I would like them to have wings, please, thank you

Remove pain from a person dying - as part of Thanatos oft being considered a personification of peaceful death (compared to the Keres, who represent violent death)

Invoking a fear of death onto other people

Being able to know how or when you will die - as part of Thanatos being loosely associated with Atropos, the member of the Fates who cuts the threads of people's lives: this would be limited in people who are not close to death, as there's always a possiblity that things will change over time, your death will shift, etc, etc, etc

And then ofc there's stuff that, regarding the relationship to death and death-related powers, separates them from children of Hades. Than's kids cannot or have a hard time committing necromancy (bringing people back from the dead, as in skeletons from the ground or summoning ghosts from the underworld) - death is death, bringing things back from the dead, even if those things are still technically dead, doesn't really align. If they can do it, I imagine Hades' kids usually have to teach them how to, which is cute because I like to imagine Hades taught Thanatos similar things.

They cannot see living souls, and cannot manipulate any kind of soul, living or dead (eg. they can't force a ghost who is being a dick to stop being a dick, lol)

While I like to HC both kids as being aware and selfless regarding their own mortality, I think Than's kids have a harder time with the sense of caring for their own mortality because death is something they lowkey crave, in the same way many kids seek out their parents element, and what better way to achieve it then to die.

It's not suicidal, it's just a general passivity to life in general. Again, something Hades' kids and their various cousins help them work through, it usually improves as they grow older and gain more connections to life through other people, experiences, but ages three to seven are very iffy and Thanatos checks in often to make sure they know to not just stand there when a monster is charging at them, or to make one of Hades' kids babysit his little angel and teach them the meaning of "please for the love of all that is holy and unholy, don't stand in the middle of a busy road" and other such important things.

Similarly, it's harder for them to stop an impending death - say, if someone is being attacked and they could, theorectically, stop it from happening while remaining safe themselves, it requires far more mental effort to get into action. It's less that they don't care about the other person, and more that, like their father, they feel beholden to the timing of death. For this, they're not well liked by other demigods, something that Hades' kids intervene on frequently to take on that dislike/disapproval when they can so that their little underlings remain safe from other people's harm/judgment.

There's probably a lot of other potential as well, but I am. Stalling mentally lol, so here we are. I think a big importance, for me anyway, when thinking about Thanatos vs Hades and the related powers between their kids is to consider Thanatos' standing as a personification of death vs a god of death, as well as Hades being the king of the underworld and god of the dead. Hades's kids, theorectically, should have more power/capabilities related to the dead and afterlife, whereas Than's kids should be limited to death. Additionally, viewing Than as more of a reaper can create additional limitations for his kids, either in personality and how they perceive their powers or in the actual powers themselves.

Ofc, other people can have their own opinions and nothing is set in stone, lol. I might change up my opinion on some of this depending on whatever story is pulsating through my brain at any given time. I mean the wings things, lol, I've always been into it, but in the same breath my OC from the jealous!Percy story does not have wings because it slipped my mind as I was writing it 😂😂

Oh! Before I forget, with the Death Touch power - I'm sometimes flippy-floppy on this one depending on the story, but ultimately I think of this as requiring more effort than it would with a child of Hades, or the kids being more resilient to the idea of a single murderous touch because "it's not their time yet", because I interpret Thanatos being a personification god vs a god god as meaning he's more beholden to the timing of death versus being the full causation of it. He doesn't kill people himself, they just die because he's vibing around unchained, ya know?

Non-humans, like plants or monsters, may be easier because those aren't a type of death that Thanatos deals with, you know? He's people only, lol, but, yeah, typically I look at Than's kids as being like "well, yeah, I could kill this guy threatening my life by holding his wrist for a couple of minutes and putting in some efffort, but, eh, it's not his time and it's not like dad goes around stabbing people before their time, so i don't know..."

(Meanwhile the child of Hades that has adopted them is full on freaking out becuase dear gods, stop being so cavilier with your own life, you're not even doing it in a cool way like cliff diving")

#happy's asks #happy talks pjo #thanks for asking! :)#july171224 #thanatos (pjo)

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let-me-lyric · 5 days

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Ok so this is def gonna be some sort of FOB blog now. My hyperfixation has returned babyyy (and I really hope this one sticks around for a while).

Anyway.

I think we need to give more love to American Beauty/American Psycho. Like I know on Spotify that it’s technically their most popular album but tbf we can probably all agree that that’s because of Centuries. There’s also Uma Thurman which is pretty popular (for good reason, it’s a BANGER) but the rest of the album deserves some love too.

Irresistible is lowkey my strut song, I love it so much.

The title track (AB/AP but I ain’t writing allat) took me a bit to get into but the bridge especially is actually such a good song? Currently playing it on repeat which is what prompted me to write this entire thing out.

Centuries is iconic and I love it I really do, it was how I found out about FOB and it deserves all the love it gets.

The Kids Aren’t Alright is honestly not really my fave but idk bro the lyrics really hit.

Uma Thurman gets me so hyped every time I hear it, I LOVE IT!

Jet Pack Blues is once more not as high energy as I usually like but they popped off with the lyrics “she’s singing ‘baby come home’ in a melody of tears while the rhythm of the rain keeps time”??? How did such a line get brainstormed and where do I get some of that absolute skill???

Novocaine is such an angry, gritty song and I don’t know what else I can say about it. Def one of my faves on the album but this is also lowkey my favorite album (lowkey, it’s not like I can just pick ONE 😥) so that tracks.

Fourth of July is ofc sad but it’s almost kinda cute if that makes sense? Like it makes me think of a cute romance that didn’t end so well. Not exactly the best vibes to bring to a Fourth of July part but you best believe I ABSOLUTELY will be adding it to the playlist.

Favorite Record is similar, but it almost feels like a more… homemade(?) sound. Softer might be a better word. Like the background instrument are kinda toned down or something. It expresses such a similar meaning in such a different way IDK

Immortals feels like the earlier part of a relationship that you know is technically doomed to fail but you really don’t want to let go of. All of the time references really cement that idea for me. There’s more I was going to say but I forgot it so.

Twin Skeleton’s (Hotel In NYC). Now what do I even say about this one? Honestly, I’ve run out of things to say right now but let’s just say that if I heard this one in concert I would probably die. S tier. No further notes.

Also this is maybe an important disclaimer: I have zero experience with love and I don’t intend to get any (aromantic babyyy 😍). So my analysis might be a bit inaccurate but who’s doing research for smth like this anyway?

TL;DR: y’all are SLEEPING on AB/AP, but also every album is equally good in its own way (altho I’m ngl I could never bring myself to listen to evening out with your girlfriend but someday I will, promise).

…yeah. I think it’s clear how not normal I am about this band.

#fall out boy #fob #american beauty/american psycho #ab/ap #fall out boy album #don’t mind me I’m just being silly #and a total fangirl #guys I LOVE hyperfixating #😍

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multifandom-nerds-blog · 1 year

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Inspired by this art by @kerrtesy I wrote a little something about Luigi getting lost in the darklands as a kid. Betaread by my cat btw.

Luigi wasn't sure how long he has been walking at this point. Or how long it's been since he woke up with this massive headache inbetween all those trees.

If only he didn't fell into that stupid pipe.

He closed the finger of his left hand tighter around his ripped up hat. In his right hand he was holding onto the photo.

Or rather what was left of the photo.

Inbetween his hurting feet he suddenly realized how much hotter it had become. He looked up from the ground to see a giant castle in the middle of a giant lava see.

Maybe he could sleep there! Just for a little. And when his feet would finally stop hurting he could go back to searching a way back home!

No. Who knows what's in there? Probably something worse then some bats. Anyway, what kind of castle just stands in a lava see in a middle of a dark forest?

No no no. He should keep walking. If he would keep walking, maybe he's gonna find that pipe again. Or anything to get back home.

- crack -

Luigi turned around, his eyes were scanning everything he could see in the darkness between the trees.

Bones. There were bones assembling themselves into skeletons. Skeletons of what? He couldn’t say. They didn’t look similar to any of the skeletons from his biology books.

More importantly.

The skeletons were moving.

They were moving towards him.

They were chasing him.

Luigi started running. The photo and his hat were pressed to his chest.

Could his 11 year old legs even outrun those things? Who knew for how long skeletons could run.

The bridge was destroyed.

Could he jump? There were parts of the bridge still swimming in the lava. But it was pretty far...

A bony hand touched his back.

He jumped. Almost slipping of the destroyed part of the bridge into the lava he turned around and looked back. With a shivering hand he also put his photo into the inside pockets of his dungarees that became so dirty that his mother would probably scream.

The skeletons stared at him. Glowing eyes Staring into his soul. One of them tilted his head, some others walked backwards.

Did they leave? Maybe! Then he could-

They were jumping after him-

He let out a scream, pulled himself up and jumped. His feet somehow carried him through the castles gate.

Luigi never wanted to fall in to that stupid pipe that brought him here.

If only he would be home.

If only Mario would be with him. His twin always managed to make every situation better for Luigi.

Luigi pished his body against the gates but fleshless hands were still sticking through it and reaching out for him.

Why was this happening to him? He never wanted to land in some creepy forest with walking skeletons.

After a felt eternity Luigi somehow managed to close the gates buy pushing his entire bodyweight against them.

Safe. For now at least, he could still hear them scratching on the other side of the gate.

Luigi started fidgeting with the broken hat in his hands. What should he do now? And who nows what could be in here! Maybe something worse.

But... He was so tired. And it didn’t look like anyone was right there, so maybe he could just sit down for some minutes. Just until his feet would stop hurting so much.

Yes. He would only need to rest for a few miutes, and then he would surely find a way back home.

Rolled up in a corner, holding on to himself, a ripped of photograph and a broken hat with his initial on it, Luigi did not even notice that he was watched by a group of Shy Guys who were wondering what a child like him was doing in the darklands.

#Luigi #shy guy luigi #mario games #mario movie #I honestly don't know what to tag here #But be aware that this also obviously based on a scene from the movie #And I finished my first Abitur exam #YIPPIE!#And english may be my best subject but Google translate is my best buddy #English class doesn't teach you that Hosenträger is dungarees in english for example #Luigi is one smol boy heere

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mail-me-a-snail · 4 months

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explain your silvervance playlist

let's get to it! this got very. very long. tumblr only allows 30 images per post so expect a part two :3

⭐1.) twin skeleton's (hotel in nyc) - fall out boy

the silvervance playlist kicks off with vance's post act 1 theme--the song that follows him out of the grave and into the next life with johnny in his head.

johnny's engram saved vance; kept his head together even if chunks of the merc's brain matter were slipping through his chrome fingers, in a manner of speaking.

when the relic saved vance's life, it marked him for death, too. jackie might've taken the bullet for him, but death is gonna find vance one way or another.

⭐2.) hysteria - muse

johnny resides within a new, uncooperative body, hates every second of it, and decides to make it vance's problem.

johnny himself has come back to life after 54 years of not-so-eternal death; didn't even know he was dead until he was walking upright again, until he was shocked back to consciousness. but it's not a real life--it's not even his to begin with.

⭐3.) come a little closer - cage the elephant

vance runs through johnny's memories; he gets to see night city's infamous rockerboy for who he really is, who he always has been: a liar, a faker, someone who claims to hate control but wants it, anyway. seeing his memories is as invasive as johnny seeing vance's--but johnny, surprisingly, says come take a look. see who've you've got in your head.

they're in this together, now. there's no going back.

⭐4.) infidel zombie - the dickies

with the theft of the relic and the revival of arasaka's public enemy #1, the megacorp is sending its best out to hunt them down.

after having escaped arasaka thus far, vance is on high alert. it doesn't help, either, that takemura--one of their best guard dogs--will only vow his service to vance as as long as they rescue hanako--the very face of arasaka itself.

⭐5-7.)

meanwhile, johnny and vance are still fighting over ownership of the latter's body. johnny wants one thing, vance wants another, and both of them hate this sense of dual autonomy. but little by little, they're becoming more alike.

my body is a cage - arcade fire / this body means nothing to me - shrimp / mark on you - the mountain goats

⭐8.) psychotic opera - small leaks sink ships

hellman gives them the low-down: vance isn't gonna make it with johnny still in his head. the best he can do is die comfortably.

but alt offers them a possible solution--find her where she resides in mikoshi, deep in the heart of the very tower vance had sworn he would never go back to, and she just might still be able to separate them.

this is the point of the playlist where vance realizes separation may be more painful than what would inevitably happen otherwise. he doesn't understand yet why he feels this way. only that johnny has been with him for some time now, enough time that being without him would feel...odd.

⭐9-10.)

they both have their own regrets about their respective lives, conjoined as they are now. they mourn for what could've, should've been. they mourn for what'll never happen--for the world, maybe, or maybe what'll never happen between them.

what was it johnny said? this is why you don't bring back fallen warriors: sooner or later, they're gonna see everything they fought for's turned to shit.

wish i knew you - the revivalists / all these things that i've done - the killers

⭐11.) granite - sleep token

but things aren't all that bad. vance falling in love with johnny was as inevitable as it was wholly consuming; he had never realized how lonely he had been until the ghost had come along. johnny is one of the only people in the city who understands what it's like to pass through it daily, to never feel your feet on the pavement, to just keep going.

even if the alt cunningham (or an engram of her), has offered them a solution herself, a very small part of vance is afraid it won't work. this is arasaka they're talking about; they'd need a miracle to undo the damage the megacorp has done.

he is afraid of dying.

but if that is how he can be with johnny--

--then he'll take it, even if it's in death.

✨12.) ordinary love (extraordinary remix) - U2

THIS. THIS IS IT. this is THE silvervance theme song. you'll recognize these lyrics as being the title of their fic series. ordinary love is just. it's the song that illustrates how much love johnny and vance have for each other.

vance doesn't want johnny out. he wants both of them to get their lives back--to live the life that was taken from them, together.

⭐13-15.)

in my head, these songs are intercut with various missions. they take place, chronologically, after my fic poltergeist (ie, vance and johnny have established the rocky foundations for their relationship). i think the lyrics speak for themselves.

rain - sleep token / slowly spilling out - saint motel / chokehold - sleep token

part 2 here

#asks #silvervance #WHOOOOOOOOOWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #this got so fucking long help me #can you tell im normal though. be honest

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catmaidetho · 3 months

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assigning fob songs to my favorite hermit/traffic ships because im insane

hi. you've all heard of the crane wives, but now its time to pull out my specialty: being an emo faggot.

ethubs - dont make me pick one. SHUFFLE FALL OUT BOY'S DISCOGRAPHY. PICK A SONG. THERE IS A 90% CHANCE YOU CAN APPLY IT TO ETHUBS. due to the overarching Themes within pete's writing and the fucking insanity that is how he writes about his relationship with patrick, you can apply (almost) any song to ethubs.

kids aren't alright? "in the end, i'd do it all again / i think you're my best friend" bang the doldrums? COME ON THAT'S THE CORNERSTONE OF PETEKEY SHIPPING!!! "best friends, ex-friends 'til the end / better off as lovers and not the other way around" hold me like a grudge? "part-time soulmate / full-time problem" DONT GET ME STARTED ON TWIN SKELETONS. i could go on but i wont. just know that the parallels between peterick and ethubs drive me insane.

i dont have any other ships actually im going to talk more about the peterick = ethubs parallels under the cut

okay so imagine you have this friend. you met by accident, mostly. someone else introduced you, and from the moment you met you just go, "oh. you're my muse. you will make everything work." and then do everything together for a decade and a half. talk about each other when no one brought them up. defend them because nobody else knows them like you do. at some point you've both come to the conclusion that you're better than best friends, maybe you're brothers.

he loves me. in the end i'd do it all again i think you're my best friend. gg. there's a room in a hotel in new york city that shares our fate and deserves our pity. everything bdubs touches turns to gold. patrick could sing the phonebook and you'd swoon. etho has this way of cutting you down, he's made me the builder i am today. i'm the musician i am because of pete.

part-time soulmate, full-time problem.

doesn't it drive you fucking crazy?

#khaos.txt #ethubs #ambrose has heard me go off about this before. hi ambrose.#i could go on forever but i wont.

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aftgficrec · 9 months

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Anonymous asked: Do you have any recommendations for any new twinyard bonding fics, with or without Nicky. Or even any with Nicky and one twin?

NB: original ask here in new twinyards bonding post

We’ve got a trove of Nicky and the twins for you, including a WIP age reversal fic where college-aged Andrew and Aaron raise young Nicky. It is ‘Home’ by allfortheBoyds. -A

previous recs: Nicky & the twins

Nicky bonding with both or one twin here

Nicky’s relationship with the twins here

new canon compliant bonding: Aaron & Andrew & Nicky here

‘Travelers’ series Part 4 here

‘My brother under the sun’ here

‘Abject apathy,’ ‘Oh Brother Of Mine,’ ‘Atrophy,’ and ‘Promises Kept’ here

‘Aaron Minyard Ficlets’ and ‘Frazzled Bird’ (completed) here

‘a working thing’ and ‘AFTG/TFC minifics…nicky's pills’ here

‘Step Up/Dance AU’ here

‘This is our beginning’ here

‘We're the giggle at a funeral’ here

‘This is After’ and ‘innocence died screaming’ here

‘Direct Lines to The Heart’ here

‘get what you give’ here

‘Microsleep’ here

‘Odd Eye’ here

‘You know I don't care’ here

‘on the taste of home (let it go down easy)’ here

‘Paper Cut Hearts’ here

‘I Found Love Where It Wasn’t Supposed to Be’ here

Nicky & Aaron

‘Aaron loses his shit’ here

‘Aaron figuring out that he’s asexual…’ here

‘Misunderstandings’ here

‘Wear it on your finger’ here

‘aaron minyard + memories of nicky’ here

‘skeletons in the water’ here

‘Five Times Aaron’s Soul Tried to Find a Home…’ here

Nicky & Andrew

Nicky and Andrew’s relationship here

‘maybe we could’ here

‘Something Good’ here

‘Enough’ here

‘The One Where Andrew Tries to Kill Nicky’ here

‘Affection can be shown in so many ways,’ ‘It's a Home,’ and ‘The World on Mute’ here

‘I am not a library’ here

‘Truth Time’ here

‘Nicky sees Andrew dance’ here

‘Treacherous’ and ‘Andrew Minyard...does not have a crush’ here

‘Mixed Tape,’ ‘Nicky goes to the bank,’ ‘before nicky goes back to germany,’ ‘Andrew kept Nicky close,’ and ‘Andrew appreciates Nicky’s selflessness’ here

‘Just closed eyes with nothing behind’ here

‘everything has changed’ here

‘That One Time Andrew Made Nicky Glad…’ and ‘Nicky & Andrew prompt’ here

‘don't look away’ here

‘hiding out at the winter formal’ here

‘white soap’ and ‘Bloom Where You're Planted’ here

‘losing battle’ and ‘married to my enemy’ series here

‘haven't got a clue’ and ‘Congrats on the sex’ here

‘The Morning AUs Chapter 25: Conversion Camp AU’ here