Being_of_chaos
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- Dream SMP (3)
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Summary
The distant buzz and the cold, numb apathy covered the fear for now. The night and the roof acting like a half-done bandage, clouding over his brain and any feelings. Nowadays, he cared as much about the world as he did himself. Not one bit.
It seems though, something does flicker in his chest when he hears a familiar pair of footsteps scuffing up and along the rest of the rooftop behind him. It feels like a flame trying to ignite in the cold, spluttering and flickering in his chest before going out, failing to catch. So his words don’t carry any warmth when he opens his mouth to speak into the open air, just dead and dragging like how his bones feel. Voice scraping as if dragged upon gravel, shoving the half-hearted words up his throat and out his mouth.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
or, an old friend comes around, and Will is left to pick up the pieces -
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Summary
The tears only start after they have gazed upon themself, their own crumpled body- fallen. The silent cries barely catching in the air as for the first time, the demon’s voice stops. Drifting into tense silence as it watches the angel hug themself, cradling their head as their wings splayed down across the nest, unweighted with a halo for the first time in centuries.
They couldn’t even remember what had happened, except now they were apparently freed from violence and ever knowing eyes- but for what? Only to be cast down and discarded like the lowest of sinners, to be held by a demon in it’s very nest? The demons and monsters that lurked in the places that they were supposed to guide mortals and souls from, that they preached against, were now right beside them.
What’s freedom worth when the fall seems to take more than the gain could ever give?
or, a lost angel awakes in a demon's nest. Tired, confused and love starved
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Summary
He wasn’t sure how long he waited there, just waiting for his chest to cease its rapid movement along with his stuttering heart. Watching wearily at the edges of the fields where they led to the barn, trying not to think of what might be coming. Tommy eventually sat up more, looking over in the grass and meeting the startling gaze of a fox. And he yelped loudly at the sudden surprise.
The fox seemed just as alarmed, squeaking loudly and turning to bound away before harshly stopping with a choked off yip, leaving Tommy to scramble over to where the fox had fallen.
It was a vixen, red coat painted with white showing at the tips of her muzzle, paws and tail. Writhing against the ground as Tommy was able to make out the reason the startled thing had stopped, a snare.
or, the night of Sally's death, told through the memory of Tommy
- Language:
- English
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- 980
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