The Odette

The Odette

( @odetteeternia )

𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉;

𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓂 𝒶𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝒾𝓉𝑒…

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝓇𝑒𝓌𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝑒𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝒻𝓉 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹𝓈;

𝒮𝓉𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝓊𝓁𝓅𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝒶𝓏𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓂𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹,

𝒲𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒽𝓊𝑔𝑔𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝓊𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓉𝑒;

𝒱𝑒𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒾𝓇 ‘𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉.

𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒹, 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒;

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒.

𝒫𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓂𝓈 𝒻𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓌𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓇𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉,

𝒜𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓈𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝒻𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉.

Smoke and Mirrors

Summary- The game mechanics have changed, you can no longer seduce Bailey. But do they succeed in making Bailey forget? Pairings- M!Bailey the caretaker x GN PC

CW- self aware Bailey, slightly nsfw, mentions of trauma

Bailey was harrowed. The last week itself felt like  a lifetime had passed. His usually stoic face now wore a slight grimace. Deep bags sat underneath dark eyes with a tired eclipse in them. 

He was so on edge that he would snap at the orphans millering around, at the barest of provocation. The orphans sensed his ire, steering clear of him. Not even a shadow dared linger near his office.

Inside the blinds were snapped shut, barring entry of any natural air or daylight. It was dank and suffocating. A heavy layer of smoke hung about his office, making the vicinity hard to see let alone sit in for hours on end, yet Bailey chose to do exactly that. Smoking like a chimney and stewing in seclusion during the lazy afternoon hours.

The gentle tic tic tic from the grandfather clock, set a hypnotic rhythm making Bailey’s head throb. Clenching his jaw, he let his head fall back, and hang over the back of the chair. He felt his eyelids droop with barely restrained exhaustion, threatening to take over.

And yet. 

And yet he refused to sleep.

The reason? Bailey scoffed

He was convinced that something was definitely wrong with him. If not, why else would he have these visions? Flashbacks? He didn’t even know if what he saw were actual memories or a sinister conjuring of his deceitful mind.

Bailey was no stranger to nightmares, having had his fair share of trauma in this debaucherous town. Trauma which was neatly packed and stowed away in some deep recess of his mind. Please and thank you. 

He didn’t need this pesky hindrance in his everyday routine. Bailey had far more pressing matters to attend to. But instead here he was isolating himself, all because he was too afraid to sleep.

The notion itself made him laugh out loud in incredulity. Why was this happening? What prompted it? Bailey had wracked his brain all night, when he leaned across the railing of his balcony, letting the midnight air cool his sweat slick body.

He still remembered that image. It was painfully sliced into his memory like a permanent scar. Bailey had jolted up in his bed, unable to breathe for a solid minute. One would think this visceral reaction was a result of him seeing some eldritch horror. It wasn’t. 

Bailey was terrified beyond wits to see a version of himself which felt too real to brush off as a nightmare. 

He knew that if he closed his eyes in that instant, he would see it. Clear as day.

Big hands bracketing the sides of a head. Broad chest enveloping a smaller body. Slaps and pants echoing in the very office he was sitting in. They were standing in front of a mirror. Its surface, all fogged up. Bailey would hear himself chuckle in that dream. Husky and low. And then, his hand would slide over the mirror.

“Look at yourself, wearing that lewd expression” he would whisper to the other person.

“Shouldn’t you thank me for making you feel that good? Such a freak” he would sneer and they would whimper, clenching around him hard in response.

And that’s when he would see it. His face. His own face, slack jawed, eyes crazed beyond sanity, and lips parted in a deep groan. His dark hair slicked back with beads of sweat rolling down his temples. All flushed and lost in pleasure.

Pleasure that he still felt like faint wisps of temptation licking away at his soul.

Pleasure that did not leave him even in consciousness. Pleasure that he knew was so potent that it would wreck him. 

Downgrade and dilute him, pushing him right alongside the filthy heathens he supplied to and made an income from.

Surely he was better than that? Bailey prided himself over his impeccable self control. No amount of luring would break his resolve, he was certain.

But the way that dream echoed in his mind made him doubt himself. That cloud of uncertainty loomed over his head like an oncoming storm. Because if that dream was just that, simply a dream, why did he still feel the touch of that unknown person burn on his skin? 

It was like his muscle memory begged him to remember something he didn’t. Or was it someone?

He grumbled. A soft knock at the door broke this frenzy of thoughts. Miffed, he grunted his assent, “Enter”

The door opened a crack, and you walked in. Bringing in a whoosh of air and a stream of light that made Bailey wince.

“What is it now?” He snipped, “Don’t waste my time” Bailey sat up straighter and stared at you. Dour and unblinking.

“It’s about the payment” you stuttered, “Is there any other way that I could pay?” You leaned over his desk, finger tracing its surface in a slow deliberate manner.

Bailey felt his head throb again, jaw clenched as he tracked the movement of your finger with slight intrigue.

He wasn’t foolish. Bailey understood what you were propositioning. He felt a mocking laugh bubble up his throat, at your sheer audacity.

Did you think him so weak? So pathetic that he would humor you?

“You can pay me with money” he sneered, “That’s what your body’s worth”

“Now scram” Bailey shooed you away, hands busy with lighting another smoke.

You trudged outside, defeated and head hung low. Tears brimming your eyes, you paused and looked over your shoulder, wanting to say a million things to that imposing man. All the frustrations that clawed inside your throat, made you choke out a whimper.

And the lighter slipped from his grasp. Eyes widened with mute horror as the memory of that sordid dream replayed in his mind. 

But this time, when he cleared the fog from the mirror, he saw the other person’s face alongside his. Face scrunched up in a whimper much alike the one you wore right now.

With shaky hands Bailey held the cigarette. A bead of sweat rolling down his spine as he realized something. 

That dream wasn’t simply a dream. It was a memory. A memory that very much took place right here in this office.

He stood up. Legs striding to the front of his desk. Fists balled at his sides, as he felt the echo of the familiar words itching at the tip of his tongue.

In some distant memory he heard himself say,

If it’ll shut you up, I’ll throw you a bone, as he practically pounced on you.

But not today. It was as if some unknown force glued him to the spot. Stopping him from grabbing that sweet sweet release that he seemed to find only in you.

The smoke overhead shifted, standing between you and him like a fragile barrier. You stalled, as if waiting for something to happen. He watched, bound by the rules of his own game.

With a hint of resignation you left, leaving Bailey a questioning, confused mess. He slumped back in his seat, unable to discern dreams from reality anymore.

The sweet susurrus of the satin, you wrapped round my eyes;

I stare blindly, in the face of your many beautiful lies.

Hands on my shoulders, words a stealthy breath;

You spill nectar in my ear, whilst you guide me to my death.

Lover

Scritch and scratch, the tip of the pen danced against the paper. My words flowed liquid, tangled in the cursive jumble of my thoughts. Loops after loops, slants and curves, my feelings turned solid as I hung them on the lines like stars.

For you to count and admire, my secrets laid bare like constellations. Holding several meanings and stories I only ever whispered to the moon.

Oh you unknown, whose face I see in dreams, on many a sleepless night.

Oh you unknown, whom I’ve loved , do love, and will love without nary the blink of an eye.

We’ve never met; yet such hold you have on my foolish little heart.

Oh you unknown will you Love me... Love me, until it consumes and tears me apart?

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Yandere Male Celebrity x GN Manager Reader

Yandere Male Writer x GN Cop Reader

5 Things He hates about you

Slowly killing time. The seconds bleed into minutes. Fingers drumming the funeral march on the rough surface of the table, mourning the loss of another hour. Tear shrouded eyes, surreptitiously flit every so often towards the dead silent phone.

Alone in this lone space, I wish my day wasn’t cheapened like so. Waning with wont of your absence. How I hope I could drown in work. Have something to do with my fidgeting hands itching to reach out to you.

Maybe someday I’ll get to be the important one in this relationship. Maybe someday we’ll switch roles…

When you’ll come calling and I won’t answer.