Warning- The Volume Is Loud So Reduce It If Youre Wearing Headphones

Warning- the volume is loud so reduce it if you’re wearing headphones…

This is Black Lumaban from the visual novel Reanimated Heart by Jack @reanimatedheart

Silent Confessions

[CW- themes of self hate, cursing/swearing, it’s sfw but mildly suggestive] Boyfriend Whitney x GN PC

His eyes opened by a fraction, blue orbs adjusting to the street light filtering in through the window in the small, stuffy room. He blinked rapidly, as if only now remembering how he ended up here. Whitney gently shifted in the small creaky bed, the worse for wear sheets covering your half naked body rode down with his movements.

You whined a little, flailing your arms around in an attempt to pull the boy closer, further entangling your limbs, under the sheets.

“Stop moving” you mumbled nosing along the crook of his neck. The sound of his steady pulse against your face gave you a sense of security, and a feeling of familiarity. A feeling that you were growing dangerously attached to, “l’m cold” you managed to whisper. Even half asleep you could practically see, no, feel him roll his eyes.

“You’re getting way too comfortable with me, aren’t you little one… ordering me around now, huh?” he murmured as he shifted in the cramped space, easily scooping you up and placing you atop him, as he pulled the old blanket over both of your forms. Despite his rough tone, his hands were gentle, like always. His chin came to rest on your head, strong arms holding your waist like a lifeline, and you found yourself unconsciously matching your breathing with his, secretly loving the way both of your chests touched when they rose and fell in tandem.

A beat of silence passed. Both of you said nothing, just listened to the sound of your combined breathing dancing in the dark. Whitney rubbed soothing circles on your back, slender fingers inching down to find the words written in black permanent marker near your left hip.

A small frown creased his forehead. His blue eyes caught the words emblazoned on your skin, reflected into the mirror of the dilapidated armoire. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he kept staring at the reflection transfixed.

He saw the way your legs wrapped around his waist, how your head rested on his chest, and those damned words that he himself wrote, sat there on your body, mocking him.It was all too intimate, and suddenly he regretted letting his guard down. Regretted letting you drag him to this dump of a place.

It was somewhere he had sworn not to enter. He had been here with his lackeys before. But he never stayed long. Those fleeting glimpses into your life were enough to sate his curiosity. Of this weird fixation he held about you. He hated that he was almost obsessed about knowing what you did after school, where you lived, whom you hung out with.

But when you finally humored his stupid request and took him to your crusty old orphanage, that small shy smile you wore when you showed him your bedroom, tore at his heart in a way that he simply couldn’t comprehend. He felt nauseated at the idea of defiling you in a place you felt safe in. Promising to himself that he will not ruin this little haven that you called home.

Yet here he was bathing in the after effects of his selfish decisions. No he wasn’t selfish. He was downright greedy. Eagerly taking everything that you so naively offered. That’s how your relationship had always been. Him taking incessantly and you giving immeasurably.

He heaved out a shuddering breath, willing his eyes to move from the reflection. He looked around the small quarters in a desperate attempt to divert his thoughts away from the dangerous chasm that they were leading him to.

You will never be enough for them

He clenched his eyes shut trying to drown out the annoying voice.

They are too kind for a pathetic human like you. You will simply drag them down.

“Shut.Up” he ground out, his grip tightening unconsciously around you. You winced in your sleep and Whitney blanched. He instantly loosened his grip and pressed a soft kiss to your hair as a silent apology.

He could hear the birds chirrup in the distance. Cold air found its way through a draft in the window to tickle his skin. The dawn was approaching. He gently rolled over and placed you in the centre of the bed, carefully tucking you in as he slipped out of the covers silently.

Despite his solemn mood, a small smile crept up his face at the beautifully disheveled state you presented. Hair all mussed up, lips swollen legs sticking out from underneath his white shirt that covered your chest. Unable to stop himself he leaned down and caught your lips in a soft kiss, tasting those feathery dreams that he dared not see with open eyes.

He roved a hand though his blond hair, moving the fringe aside to get a good look at your face.

“So trusting. Letting your guard down around me” he laughed bitterly. Unbidden his eyes flitted to the words on your left hip and he looked away quickly before he started thinking too deeply about it.

It was an impulse. Yes. That’s exactly what it was. You both were intoxicated and he was so lost in the way you pleasured him, that he simply didn’t think before he wrote.

He stood to his full height and walked towards the door of the small room. He better slip out before that shady bitch Bailey found him.

Hovering a little by the door, he hesitated before stalking to your desk and grabbing a sheet of paper. “Screw it” he whispered taking a pen and quickly scribbling a note before he could talk himself out of it.

“You can keep the shirt. It looks better on you ;)”

He folded the small note and placed it beside your head, proudly sauntering outside your room shirtless. He didn’t look back, as he left you slumbering. Leaving nothing but his shirt and the words behind that he was too afraid to say to you.

And surely, you were in for a surprise when you would wake up and see “I love you” resting on your hip in his messy penmanship instead of the usual “Whitney’s toy”

"Tears in the rain"

"On my knees, head weighed down; this is how you left me, crying on the ground. 'Please don't go', was all my heart ached to say; but before I turned, you had already walked away"

"To the other half...”

"How many masks remain to fall;

before I see the real you?

How many secrets are yet to be revealed,

before the trust in me breaks into two?

I've seen you change more colours;

than there existed in rainbows.

I see, you've been writing our story for awhile;

drawing it to an early close.

You gave me a thought to dwell on;

painted in solitary blue.

I sigh, as I look at my heart;

along with all the memories, you took the other half with you"

Random DoL drabble because I’m bored… I just imagined what if Jordan was a LI with the same corruption stat as Sydney. So here it is lol~

CW- Religious themes, it’s sfw but mildly suggestive

Jordan The Priest x GN PC

You are in the Temple. Your hands are loaded with gardening tools as you move in and out of the garden. Your habit is covered in patches of dirt, stray leaves stick to your head and other places. You can feel sweat on your body with the amount of exercise you are getting |++strength +fatigue

As you enter the temple, your shoulder roughly collides with someone making you fall flat on your butt. You feel a sharp twinge of pain, as everything in your grasp is scattered around you |+stress +pain

You look up to see a familiar face loom over you. “I am so sorry, my child” Jordan mutters softly as he bends down and helps you up, lifting you by your arms. “I wasn’t watching where I was going” His long golden hair, slips from the sides of his cowl and tickles your nose. He frantically moves about gathering your scattered items as you dust yourself off.

Jordan smiles at you apologetically as he hands over the items to you, “I apologize again. I see you’re hard at work.” He gives you the items. Your fingers brush slightly. You smirk a little and hold his hand yanking him close to your face. His eyes widen as he stares at you, your faces inches apart, “Thank You” you mutter huskily making his breath hitch |+Arousal +Jordan’s Corruption

“Do-don’t mention it” a flush rises to his face, he stutters as he hastily picks up his book from the ground and walks quickly towards the pews without glancing back.

Its evening. You are at the orphanage at Domus street. You are wrapped in a towel as you move about your room, looking for your journal. After an hour long of futile search, your eyes land on a book with a brown leather binding.

It’s similar to yours, but when you flip it open, the name, “Jordan” rests on the page in neat and elegant cursive handwriting.

A curiosity fills you, and you sit on your bed and begin reading through the pages. Most of it is just mundane stuff, their schedule for everyday, some bookkeeping of temple allowances, and even regular musings. You mindlessly flip the pages, almost in a bored fashion when your eyes land on a very recent entry.

“I don’t understand what is happening these days. I find myself facing a deep precipice. This is wrong. So very wrong. In vain have I tried to cleanse myself of these thoughts. These vice like feelings are eating away at my mind. I can sense it. This darkness is slowly sweeping me in its corrupt hands, and I am willingly walking into its embrace.

I should’ve known you were trouble the moment I saw you drag Sydney into the depths of depravity. Yet I crave for you. I want you to look at me the way you look at them. I want to feel those emotions that feel so foreign to me. I feel alive in so very long a time. I have begun to look forward to the time you sneak up on me when you think I’m not looking. Those fleeting moments have ignited a flame of sorts. So Lord forgive me for I think I have sinned. Because I want to be loved by the sin incarnate”

Your mind swims with possibilities. This is a surprise. You never expected Jordan to reciprocate those feelings. Your heart thuds wildly as you realize something with a start. If you have Jordan’s journal right now, it means that your journal is currently in Jordan’s possession. And it has much more graphic and detailed entries inside it. Your own personal confessional of sorts that always begin with, “Forgive me Jordan, for I have sinned”

It holds several anecdotes about your little crush on the priest. Long paragraphs about the things you’d like to do with him |++ Arousal ++Jordan’s corruption

A lewd warmth fills you, as you think about running into Jordan tomorrow. You feel excited about the situation but it’s too tame to remove the cloud over your mind |-stress

[Silly bonus lols]- You are in the temple garden watering the flowers. You hear some footsteps approaching. It’s Jordan. He doesn’t look you in the eye, as he silently hands you over your journal. You can see his hands trembling a little. A wild tinge of red dusting his cheeks. When you think he’ll leave, he reaches inside his robe and pulls out a bottle. He uncorks it and just like that pours the entire contents all over your head. It seeps through your clothes making you shudder slightly as your habit clings to your body.

“It’s holy water” he mumbles, “You need it”. He leaves you alone in the garden, shivering as he walks back inside |++ Jordan’s corruption

The weeping cherry blossom

Eddie Alette x GN Reader Hanahaki AU

[ Eddie belongs to @xoxoalette ]

CW- Angst, Mentions of blood, gore, death, and insinuation of murder. And slightly ooc Eddie :3 word count- 1607

This was absurd. And this was getting out of hand.

Eddie Alette tried to regulate his breathing, focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. To calm his traitorous heart that seemed to have a mind of its own around you. Surely, you weren’t so ignorant right? Surely, you must hear the persistent crunch of his jaw clenching and unclenching. How had you not noticed the crease between his brows that he bore like the first cracks on his fine statuesque face?

The lecture today seemed to stretch. The professor’s voice was nothing but a distant echo buried under the tidal wave of your cloying presence beside him. The cold late winter breeze hurtled in through a window nearby and kissed your skin, making the dusting of pink on your cheeks more prominent and Eddie felt the firm jolt of something deep within his chest settle its roots.

A choke…a cough…and a loud desperate swallow of air, made him sit up straighter in alarm and swear under his breath. Clutching a hand to his mouth, he resisted the urge to hurl when he tasted the vanilla and oranges on the flirty breeze that had sifted through your locks and attacked his senses.

He could feel it coming. It fluttered in his throat like dread, bile and the sickening sweetness that enveloped each pore on his body, slowly smothering him with every gulp of air he heaved.

Unable to take it anymore, he hurriedly rose from his seat.The legs of the chair scraped roughly on the ground, before it hit the floor with a loud clatter. He had to escape now or else everyone would know. Even worse, you would know, and he simply wouldn't have it.

Your eyes and several others’ snapped towards the silver haired man who was frantically shoving his belongings in his backpack as if possessed.

“Mr.Alette, any problems?” the professor inquired brusquely.

“Yes” he spat, mismatched eyes flitting to yours and holding them captive as he conveyed a multitude of things he hated about you, through his withering glare alone. 

With some effort, he broke eye contact and looked towards the lecturer who grew impatient, the longer this interruption lasted, “I’m feeling woozy. Suffocated” he muttered and you rolled your eyes at the barely concealed jab at your expense.

“Alright you're excused” the old professor waved a hand dismissing Eddie and jumped back where he had left off. 

Yet your attention was stolen. Your gaze never broke its silent vigil of the man whom you were partnered with for an assignment. The man who never hid his distaste with your general presence.

The man who intrigued yet irritated you to no ends. 

‘Would it kill him to smile sometimes?’ you mused, lips pursed as you watched him leave.

Little did you know, if Eddie ever let that first bloom of a loving smile touch his lips, he would not be the only one dying that day.

* * *

Weeks. It had been weeks since that unfateful day, when you were partnered with him by the professor for the assignment. He had hemmed and hawed but still somehow managed to tolerate your presence just fine until that evening.

If he could pinpoint the exact second where it all went downhill, he would sell his soul to go back in time and end this right then and there. 

End you.

It would be easier wouldn't it? Perhaps it would be better than lying in a mess of his own blood. Congealed with sakura petals that clung to his bare chest, a pathetic evidence of his love for you.

Love. The term tasted bitter on his tongue, and it disgusted him to feel his chest ache each time you were around. What was it about you that made him want to cherish yet obliterate every memory he held of you?

It was a hard thing for Eddie to come to terms with the first time it happened. His mismatched eyes had squinted and burned holes into the X-ray his doctor had handed him after running all the necessary tests.

“You’re dying Mr.Alette” he had stated bluntly, “It's a rare condition, not incurable but still painful” the wizened man had looked at Eddie with such pity that he wanted to do nothing but to hunt you down and show you, just how much he loved you at that moment.

The thought had tickled his fancy and taken up his imagination on several occasions between slow hours at work. More so than he liked to admit. Would you scream, cry or silently take the pain he would inflict on you? 

Would you then understand the way his lungs burned each time the flowery blooms surged up his throat and took an ounce of his life with them? Will you sympathize with the way his heart contracted within its cage and begged to be held by you?

Will you…would you…then love him back?

Eddie sank further into his bed, his snowy lashes fluttered gently as he stared absently at the ceiling of his room, haunted by these incessant questions rattling in his mind.

Autumn had fallen for the cold caress of winter and winter soon melted for the new blush of spring, yet the raging war between his mind and heart never seemed to find its victor.

On some days he hated you. With a vile pettiness for not loving him back. And on others he loved you so passionately that he happily wanted to wilt away as the tree of your love bloomed and spread its branches within his chest. 

* * *

Summer was soon approaching and Eddie was at his limits. The episodes had increased tenfold making him weaker than ever.

So as he sat crouching beside the tub in his bathroom, body trembling with the amount of blood and petals he had hurled, a bitter laugh escaped him. The cruel reality of his feelings surged like wild tears to his glinting eyes and threatened to choke him with the beautiful pain again.

He bit back a sigh and rested his head on the cold tiled wall. The air sneaked in from underneath the door and cooled the beads of sweat rolling down his head and chest. 

With a shaky grip on his phone, and a finality about him Eddie dialed a number.

* * *

Warm sunlight filtered through the gaps between the shades lining the window of the hospital room. Eddie’s hair was splayed upon the pillow like a silver halo. Beautiful eyes blinked slowly as they adjusted to the brightness in the room.

He could hear the faint murmur of a conversation between his sister and the doctor as they discussed when he was to be discharged.

His body was spry. He felt lighter than ever, yet something weighed heavy on his subconscious mind. That gnawing feeling of forgetting something important, made it difficult for him to rest well. 

He knew that he was sick. Remembered that he had undergone surgery. But there seemed to be a gaping hole in his memories surrounding his illness.

 No matter the amount of times he pestered Diva about his memory loss, she would evasively change the subject. Or would parrot the doctor and tell him that this was normal and he was experiencing the side effects of his treatment.

He didn't notice the way she quietly slid a polaroid into her purse, safely tucking it away from his sight. For Diva simply didn't have the heart to tell him about the way they had to pry the picture from his fingers, as he was rushed into surgery.

About how she had found him, unconscious on his bathroom floor. The way he had desperately tried to remember you. Or the fact that his last call to you had gone straight to voicemail.

She had half a mind to find a secluded corner and burn that little picture to smoke. To wipe away the evening that had almost made her lose her brother. Later, Maybe when she had less pressing matters to attend to.

* * *

The summer break seemed like it would go on forever. Diva sighed as she rolled around in her bed, finding a comfortable position until she finally settled on her stomach. She continued flipping through her photo albums, occasionally pausing to coo and marvel at some silly or goofy pictures that caught her attention. The loud whirr of the lawn mower alerted her of Eddie’s presence outside in the garden.

Her brother had gone back to his normal, strict routine and jobs. He had taken more of them to fill the dent left behind by his surgery on his bank account. 

She hummed under her breath, until her fingers paused and her eyes found a polaroid with the bottom corner singed. A small smile tugged at her pouty lips as she thumbed along the edge of the photo.

It was a picture of Eddie. His eyes shone with amusement and a rare sweet grin adorned his lips as he looked upon your sleeping form on the table, seated next to him. 

You had come over for your assignment. And halfway through the evening, ended up dozing, clutching the ends of Eddie’s hoodie in your grasp, like a vice. Although stoic around you most times, Diva had caught her brother, watching you softly as you curled up in sleep, unaware.

She wasn't able to resist then, when she had sneakily captured the moment on her camera. And she wasn't able to entirely burn the picture, knowing that even though his memories of you were now gone, Eddie had still loved you. Loved you enough to throw his life away.