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monthofsick · 1 year

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Nightmare before Halloween

Nov(emeto)ber 2022, Day 11: Unconventional receptacle

OCs: Thien, Tiago, Isaiah, Luka

This was the prompt that made me rack my brain for weeks. I really wanted the receptacle to be unconventional, but no idea seemed good enough - until Halloween came to the rescue. Finally, Thien has the dubious honor to get his own story after only being the designated sympathy puker twice.

TW: Vomit, severe ear infection, side effects of medication

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Thien was determined. Frustrated, unnerved and tired, but still determined to make the most of this evening. He had been looking forward to Tiago’s Halloween party for weeks. His family was out of town, so the friends had an entire house as their private venue. During the spooky season, the cozy Almeida home turned into a dark and twisted witch’s cottage of unspeakable horrors. Painted wooden panels and countless decorations turned the facade into a gingerbread’s house evil twin. Human sized spiders, boiling cauldrons, treacherous witches and an entire army of skillfully crafted jack-o‘-lanterns both attracted and frightened every kid in the neighbourhood.

It didn't stop there – the inside was decked out with fake spider webs, bats hanging from the staircase, a skeleton relaxing in his rocking chair in front of the fireplace. Curtains and carpets were replaced with crimson and black velvet. Red window foil resembling stained glass transformed the living room into a haunting recreation of Prince Prospero's ill-fated costume ball from The Masque of the Red Death. There even was a mannequin dressed in a blood-stained funeral shroud and an ebony clock with an ominous chime.

Honestly, there was no better place to celebrate Halloween. Thien was a connoisseur of classic horror movies and he absolutely adored Vincent Price's performance as the depraved Prospero in the 1964 adaptation of Poe's grim tale. Watching it in a chamber that seemed to have sprung right out of the prince's abbey promised the ultimate immersive experience.

That was until Thien was struck with his very own horror story just a week before the long awaited festivity. He woke up in the middle of the night and scrambled out of bed to take a leak when suddenly, someone drove a power drill straight into his left ear. Thien doubled over, pushing both hands against his head in a desperate attempt to alleviate the sharp pain. When he finally managed to stagger to the bathroom, the floor under his bare feet felt unsteady like soft rubber.

The next morning, Thien woke up in a swimming pool of his own sweat. He wouldn't have believed that it was possible to drown in wet sheets, but his feverish body was determined to prove him otherwise. Freezing and sweating at the same time, Thien got himself some Tylenol and curled up on the couch with a fresh blanket. The fever wasn't impressed by the pill and neither was the stabbing pain in his ear. Thien was grateful that one of his flatmates changed his bedding, he was barely able to muster the strength to even get up again.

Dead tired, yet unable to sleep because of the red hot needle piercing his eardrum, Thien suffered through an unending night. Short fragments of fever dreams were more draining then restful. At dusk, he felt even worse than the evening before. An immense pressure had built up on the left side of his head, contrasted by sudden, intensely painful stings. Thien popped another pill, but it only hurt more and more. Overwhelmed by the certainty that his head was about to explode, Thien pressed his palm over the auricle and buried his face in the pillow. It was like an insane lobotomist hammered an ice pick deep into his ear until the pain reached an agonizing peak – and then, all of a sudden, it stopped.

At first, Thien couldn't help but sigh with relief as the pressure was released. A dull, indifferent earache remained, accompanied by a muffled buzzing. Then, to his dismay, Thien felt some kind of liquid dripping out of his ear canal. Teeth clenched, he struggled out of bed and was instantly hit by vertigo and nausea. Groping along the wall, Thien staggered into the bathroom. When he forced himself to look into the mirror, he saw a yellowish, mucoid substance leaking from his left ear. The sight was enough to make him gag.

It was probably the sign that a visit to the doctor was inevitable.

After shivering in the waiting room for half an hour, Thien was examined by an ENT specialist. She told him that he had a middle ear infection, which was rather uncommon in adults (not helpful) and had caused his eardrum to burst. At least it was a rather small tear that would probably heal up on its own. Thien was prescribed an antibiotic to kill the bacteria responsible for the infection and prevent them from spreading even further.

So it was back to bed with more Tylenol and his new best friend Amoxicillin. Thien had four days until the party to recover and he wanted to make the most of it. Like a model patient, he made sure to drink enough water and tea, took his medication exactly as described in the package leaflet, rested and slept as much as possible and even bribed his flatmates to provide him with healthy meals. The fever did, in fact, go down and after the third day, Thien's temperature was back to normal. A diffuse pain lingered in his ear and sounds were strangely muted on the left side. But overall, he felt a lot better.

Too bad that his stomach didn't like its microbiome-killing visitors. Nausea became Thien's constant companion, but it wasn't so severe that he couldn't keep the pill or his food down. Everything was somewhat tolerable, it just wasn't good. After bemoaning his fate for an hour or two, Thien decided to kick his own butt and went straight into determination mode.

Halloween was his night. So what if things weren't perfect, it wouldn't stop him from having fun. He could rest again the next day.

As impressive as the decoration had been in broad daylight, it paled compared to the spectacle revealed after dark. Flickering candles brought the jack-o'-lanterns to life. Smoke rose from the witch's cauldron and the bubbling brewage emanated an eerie green glow. The giant spiders were looking for their prey with menacing eyes glowing deep red. It was truly a sight to behold and instantly lifted Thien's spirits.

"Damn it, I thought you had to stay in bed", Tiago grinned while he greeted from the doorstep, right next to a large pumpkin with a particularly dreadful grimace. Upon closer inspection, the two of them could very well be brothers.

"Are you scared because I'm bringing the creepy stuff?" Thien raised his bag that was jam-packed with all kinds of horror movies, from cult classics to notorious shockers. "Don't blame me if you wet your sheets!"

"Ugh, leave me alone with your weird fetishes!" Tiago rolled his eyes, then stepped aside to let his friend into the small entrance hall. The lighting was dim and a huge spider web covered the entire coat rack. Thien left his jacket at the tiny bench next to the shoe shelf instead.

The only light source in the adjacent foyer – affectionately known as the batcave – was a blacklight that revealed grisly details hidden in seemingly harmless pantings. Another surprise that had been invisible by day. And then they finally entered the main attraction: the black chamber, formerly known as living room. Everything was draped in black velvet – the couch, the chairs, the table, even the walls. LED torches cast flickering scarlet light through the blood colored windows. The Red Death figure lured in the corner and the sinister ebony clock was about to toll the hour.

It was incredible.

"I… I don't even know what to say except that I ab-so-lute-ly love it!" Thien clasped his hands in excitement. The adrenaline rushing through his veins made him forget about his earache and the queasiness for a minute. "This is just perf-ohmygod!"

Thien jumped as he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders from behind. Someone let out a distorted scream that turned into laughter just a second later. As Thien whirled around, he looked into the delighted faces of Luka and Isaiah who had been hiding behind one of the velvet tapestries.

"Why are you guys such assholes?", Thien coughed, but couldn't hold back a laughter himself, both as an aftereffect of the scare and relief that he could actually be here. "I'll make you regret this! Especially you, Isa, your stomach is so weak when it comes to gore."

"Hey, I'm not that squeamish… anymore", the redhead objected.

"Well, good luck while you're munching on this." Tiago twisted his lips into a malicious grin and gestured towards the dinner table. It was, quite literally, a feast for the eyes. There was black bean stew with a sour cream spider web drawn on top. Round slices of pimiento-stuffed olives turned deviled eggs into eyeballs. Hot dogs were carved and decorated to look like severed fingers, ketchup blood dripping all over the buns. Cheese bread puffs were wrapped up in strings of dough like mummies and chocolate truffles wore bat wings. Black caipiroska was served in erlenmeyer flasks.

"That is honestly so freaking cute." With glowing eyes, Isaiah grabbed one of the bats.

"No, it's not!" Tiago was visibly shaken by so much ignorance. "It's scary and disgusting! Whatever, dig in. And don't blame me when someone gets poisoned."

The friends loaded their antique plates, then made themselves comfortable in the TV corner. Thien wasn't exactly hungry, but how could he resist such a variety of both mouth-watering and gross looking dishes? At least he wanted to try everything. He had even double checked if alcohol would clash with his antibiotics, which it didn't. However, Thien had no desire to get drunk. It wasn't an enticing prospect when he already felt dizzy and nauseous to begin with.

Just like Thien had hoped, the black room's ghastly atmosphere did wonders for the atrocities on screen. After reveling in the gloomy ambience for a while, Thien brought himself to start eating. He didn't have the strong aversion against food that came with a stomach flu, but his palate was definitely more picky. The bean stew was hearty and flavorful enough to intrigue his tastebuds. The deviled eggs were a bit much though. There was a spicy kick to the yolk paste, probably Tabasco sauce, that irritated Thien's upsets stomach. The small piece of olive was enough to leave a lasting aftertaste that curbed Thien's appetite significantly.

Nothing bad could be said about the mummy bread per se – it was gooey, soft and packed a cheesy punch. Thien couldn't put his finger on what exactly was off-putting about the small round of dough, but it left him with a nagging unease in his belly. Maybe that was the source of his sudden reluctance to try the bloody finger hot dog. The gloriously disgusting design was right up Thien's alley and he wasn't put off by fake blood, no matter if it was in a movie or on a bun. The smell of meat and nitrate, however, didn't exactly appeal to him.

This was perfectly normal food, he told himself. This was food he liked. But the beefy sausage didn't go well with the overly sweet ketchup and even after Thien had swallowed, it left an oily film in his mouth. Thien couldn't bring himself to finish the whole thing. He hoped that the chocolate treat would help him get rid of both taste and mouthfeel, but the gooey fudge mixed with the meat grease in a highly unpleasant way.

At this point, Thien was fed up with anything edible. He placed the plate on the floor next to his chair and sipped on the pitch black cocktail instead. The crisp and tart flavor was enjoyable, until Thien's tastebuds betrayed him again and reported an intrusion of nail polish remover. Thien frowned, put the flask away and hugged his abdomen. His insides felt raw and a burning sensation had taken hold of his stomach. Even focusing on the movie didn't make him feel better anymore. It was like half of the bites he took had been stuck in his throat, pushing against his uvula with every bobbing gulp.

Thien's saliva carried a faint aroma of beans and cheese and chocolatey hot dogs, which would have been repulsive even if the fluid hadn't flooded his mouth like it did. He couldn't help but wonder if his belly was scolding him with angry growls – the TV was loud enough to drown out every other sound, but Thien felt it rumble and churn under his grip. His body was moving towards a direction he didn't like at all and maybe it was already too late to turn back.

"Damn it, I'm about to burst!", Isaiah groaned, taking the words right out of Thien's mouth. "'xcuse me for a minute, I gotta make room for more."

"Open the window when you're done!" Luka demonstratively held his nose. Thien licked his lips nervously. Hopefully, Isaiah wouldn't take too long.

Except that he did. Of course. At least ten minutes passed and Thien's stomach was bubbling like the witch's brew in the garden. He sank deeper into his armchair, only to have the shift in pressure force a burp out of his overboiling gastric kettle. It tasted as bad as it felt, sour and acrid. Thien's sore throat constricted in sync with his contracting abdominal muscles. The abundance of alkaline spit left a bitter taste in his mouth that didn't go away as he swallowed frantically.

Thien had to admit that this wouldn't end well if he stuck to his strategy of watching and waiting.

Careful not to send an unintended evacuation order to his stomach, Thien pushed himself up and left the black room. He teetered through the batcave towards the guest toilet door in the entry hall. It was still locked and Thien heared Isaiah humming inside. He took a deep breath and knocked.

"Aren't you done yet?"

"Uhm… no? I would have left if I was, wouldn't I?" Isaiah wasn't wrong, but that didn't help Thien with his emergency. Hot bile crawled up his throat, burning it like a sandpaper scrub.

"Can you hurry up a bit?", he croaked after forcing the rancid fluid back down. "…please?"

"I can't, especially not if you rush me. Or listen." Isaiah let out an uncomfortable groan. "Privacy, please?"

"Sorry, but I really need to…" Just as Thien was about to explain his dire situation, he was cut off by an unannounced surge of vomit rushing up his esophagus. He tried to swallow it back down, but the stuff just kept on coming. Desperately, Thien clutched his mouth with both hands. There was no way to contain the flood, he needed something to be sick in, and he needed it right now.

The kitchen sink? Too far away, Thien would probably explode on the way and splatter the entire foyer floor with his undigested stomach contents. The umbrella stand? It did look kind of expensive and Thien hadn't forgotten how Tiago had freaked out about Isaiah barfing in his mother's car. Family possessions were serious business to him. In an act of sheer desperation, Thien ripped open the entrance door, fell on his knees and lifted the lid from the big jack-o'-lantern.

Gentle warmth caressed Thien's skin as his face came close to the candle. Then he parted his lips and extinguished the flame with a jet of puke spraying from his very own fire hose. He had not expected the sheer force of the expulsion. Every single muscle from his neck down the chest to his abdomen cramped spasmodically, causing his body to jerk with a violent recoil as more of his dinner gushed from his mouth. Thien caught his glasses just in time before they could fall into the fetid mess bursting out of him. With trembling fingers, Thien put them aside – he had no intention to take a closer look at the cascade of sewage water he spewed into the pumpkin.

The violent heaves made him even more lightheaded, which in turn increased his nausea. One of Thien's hands held on to the jagged edge of the jack-o'-lantern with such strength that his knuckles turned white. The other one pushed against his aching belly that was gripped by a wrenching pain with every single retch. After the first spontaneous projectiles, expelling the remains of his meal became a more arduous task. Each gag pushed the thick mush just a little bit further up his esophagus. The physical strain brought tears to his eyes and pierced his left ear.

Suddenly, Thien felt a hand patting his back.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry!" Isaiah's bad conscience couldn't have been more obvious in his facial expression than it was in his voice. "I should have let you in."

Thien was unable to reply, but the thumps on his back helped his body to push the sick over the threshold. He tensed with another heave before he finally threw up a chunky blend of beans and dough and truffle and sausage bites. It tasted absolutely vile as it pumped up his throat and spurted from his mouth, plopping into the vomit pool below him with moist splats.

"Yeah, get it all out, you got this", Isaiah cheered him on. His closeness and touch did make Thien feel better. He wasn't used to someone taking care of him when he was being sick and he had expected it to only add awkwardness to the physical discomfort. Actually, it helped him to relax a bit and just let things happen. As Thien's body punched itself in the gut again with a vigorous muscle contraction, he leaned into it and bent closer to the jack-o'-lantern. More of the food he had forced down against his better judgment made a noisy return through his gaping mouth.

The messy slop Thien hurled into the pumpkin wasn't the only pattering sound anymore. His vomit had reached the jack-o'-lantern's razor-toothed grin and poured out of the creature's mouth as well. When Thien was finally able to catch his breath, shakily wiping his lips, the ghoulish pumpkin he had infected still kept on barfing down the steps.

"Damn it", Thien croaked. "I didn't think it would be so much."

"It's not your fault." Isaiah still rubbed Thien's back, even though he had stopped puking. "I had no idea you were going to be sick. Sorry I took so long."

"You couldn't have known. Just when I tried to tell you, it all came up." Thien spat out to get rid of the horrible taste sitting comfortable on his tongue. "By the way, did you happen to see cleaning supplies in the bathroom? I'd really like to destroy the evidence before Tiago finds out about this."

"Before I find out about what?"

Both Thien and Isaiah spun around, startled. Tiago was towering over them, arms crossed. Luka peered through the foyer door, curiously watching the scene unfold. Thien sighed in defeat and buried the face in his hands.

"I – I'm so sorry about this", he mumbled against his palms. "It's the antibiotics. My stomach wasn't great the whole week, but I swear this never happened before. Maybe the food was too spicy… or it's getting worse. I just couldn't hold it in."

"So… technically it's Isaiah's fault again because he's the one who was blocking the restroom", Tiago concluded.

"Hey, that's not fair!", Isaiah protested. "Don't make me clean up again."

"Don't blame him, he's not a clairvoyant." With a deep sigh, Thien put his glasses back on and got up from the ground. He was barely standing when a loud scream from the street made him flinch.

A tiny scarecrow pointed at them, then waved at her friends Chucky and Pennywise.

"You gotta check this out!", the little girl squealed. "There's a puking pumpkin!"

"It looks so real!" Pennywise stared at the front door in awe. "Not just dumb seeds and that stringy stuff from inside."

Wide eyed and a bit bashful, the illustrious trio crept closer. Scarecrow raised both her sickle and her tin bucket.

"Trick or treat!", she screeched with a voice resembling nails on a chalkboard. That kid had definitely practiced the grand entrance. While Tiago grabbed the candy bowl that had been strategically placed in the shoe rack, Chucky leaned over to his killer clown friend and whispered:

"It even stinks. This house is the best."

Thien had to bite his lower lip – not because he was embarrassed or nauseous, but to desperately hold back a hysterical giggle. The pint sized horror creatures thanked their chocolate donors with some well-rehearsed poses that were definitely more adorable than scary, then they moved on. As soon as Thien and Isaiah had entered the house and Tiago had closed the door behind them, the friends broke into laughter. Even Tiago couldn't contain himself, although he didn't roll on the ground like Isaiah did.

"That was honestly the funniest shit ever", Luka spluttered, clutching his belly. "Ti, you know that you have to leave the stuff there. They're going to hype up every kid in the neighbourhood."

"Guess there's no need to fear monsters when you have friends like you", Tiago snorted, trying to regain control. "So what. You gotta do anything to one-up your neighbours. Now get your lousy asses back into the living room, we're gonna clean up later."

"We? Did you just say… we?" Thien smiled warily. "So you can be nice if you want to."

"Don't tell anyone or I make you wipe up that barf with your tongue. Understood?" Tiago shoved Thien in the direction of the guest toilet. "Now rinse out that mouth, your breath reeks of puke. And by the way, the only things you get for the rest of the night are tea and saltines."

Thien swallowed down the thank you he had on the tip of his tongue. But the fact that, of all people, Tiago headed to the kitchen to prepare some tea made him feel a little warm and fuzzy. Even though Thien hadn't quite forgiven his body for acting up at the worst time possible, at least it had made this Halloween a night to remember.

#submission #tw vomit #tw emeto #tw medication #tw side effects #tw ear infection #nov(emeto)ber 2022 #novemetober 2022 #2022 day11 #prompt: unconventional receptacle #fandom: original characters #birdnamedenza #thien is so cute oh my gosh #his excitement about the party TT_TT #also i'm not gonna spoil for anyone peeking at tags but the unconventional receptacle... i loveeeee #i think i'm more shook than thien about tiago being nice like who /is/ he #definitely looking forward to seeing more of this gang!!

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mysumeow · 4 months

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HIII IS IT ALRIGHT TO REQ A YANDERE ALBEDO X READER SMUT N ANGST? I've been trying to look ALL over socials to find a good piece but I couldn't😭 would be wonderful for you to make one! BTW LOVE UR WORK UR DOING SO GREAT!!!!!💟💟💟

ꗃ ENSNARE

Warnings: afab genitalia, gn pronouns. YANDERE albedo, reader is forced to drink a potion, reader experiences memory loss, may be considered as dubcon, PIV unprotected sex.

Summary: Albedo isn't fond of the idea of you being away from him indefinitely. He proceeds to take matters into his own hands.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: ANON TY TT_TT ILY <3. I think that Albedo as a yandere is a strange mixture of both being sadistic if pushed enough in that direction and being a gentle lover. He's just ironic like that. He can also be manipulative if he considers he needs to be. >:()

MASTERLIST

Being granted a chance to study at Sumeru's Akademiya was an achievement worthy of celebration.

Sucrose and Timeus congratulated you.

Albedo, on the other hand...well, he did too; however, not before a strange look settled in his eyes before he cleared his throat and congratulated you.

One week away from your departure, you still have one more obligation to take care of before you leave.

Albedo and you had been researching an experimental mix for memory loss. Not for getting rid of it, but rather for the opposite. Albedo did have a hidden streak for coming up with quite questionable ideas, but he claimed it's all for the sake of innovation and research.

He was quieter than usual as you worked on preparing the final touches to the potion. He even avoided your eyes, and that, of course, stung.

You were about to go abroad for a couple of years, and he was giving you the cold shoulder...?

"For how long will you be away?"

When the alchemist voices his question out of the blue, it took you by surprise. You bit your tongue to avoid answering with a passive-aggressive comment about his distant attitude. Instead, you answered with sincerity.

"Two years. Maybe more if I get a job there," you watched the bubbles form in the liquid. It was almost done.

"Hm, I see."

Is that all you'll say?

You couldn't help but be a bit annoyed.

"Although I am overjoyed about your promising future, I fret that I have to remind you that we aren't done with this research," the liquid stopped bubbling, and Albedo took the glass to shake it side to side. "And your duty, as a fellow alchemist, is to follow through with it,"

"..." well, he wasn't wrong. You did promise that you would complete this important experiment in a way to show your gratitude to him for taking you under his wing. "I was hoping that you would...excuse me, this time,"

Albedo's gaze seemed to stray off into deep thought.

"A reasonable assumption on your part," his voice was calm, even if that serenity didn't translate into his eyes. "I'll concede. You mustn’t delay your departure for the sake of testing and re-doing the formula in case it doesn't work,"

That relieved a weight off your shoulders.

"Nonetheless, I do ask for assistance in fetching additional ingredients in Dragonspine. It's less work, is it not?"

"Thank you, Albedo," you said, forcing a smile. Although you were hoping he would just let you go, you figured it was way less work than you had to do. "I'll be here tomorrow,"

"I'd like to depart at seven. I'd recommend you be ready by six at the latest," he nodded. He seemed to be in a better mood.

"Will do. See you tomorrow. Have a good rest."

"Goodnight.”

Once in your home, you had time to reflect on Albedo's attitude during this last meeting.

From the time you had known him, you never felt like he was dissatisfied with something you did. Not even when you first began dipping your toes into the field of alchemy and committed various mistakes that ended up in explosions, would he get as displeased as he did these past days. He was a patient teacher, guiding you towards the path of a successful alchemist. And, as a friend, he was also gentle and nice.

So, that's why you couldn't ignore the shiver that crawled up your spine for a reason you weren’t sure. He was just acting odd...

Uncertainty gnawed at the back of your mind while you prepared your equipment for tomorrow's trip. The more the clock ticked, the more it grew.

The longer you thought about the cold, difficult way up to Albedo's lab in that forsaken mountain, the more you doubted if you were willing to go through with it. You had a lot of preparations to do yet, and a trip to Dragonspine would take up at least two days.

Your arms went limp as you stared at the half-full suitcase on your bed. You were still in time to tell him about your change of heart. You could look for him in his office at the Knight of Favonius's headquarters if you went right now.

You finished putting your shoes back on and went ahead to open your door.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when the person who was occupying a good portion of your thoughts was standing right in front of you.

"Albedo...?"

"May I come in?"

You blinked twice, still recovering from the unexpected visit.

Albedo's teal eyes widened a bit as he raised his eyebrows and looked at you with confusion. "Is everything alright?"

"No-! Yeah! I mean, good timing. I was about to head out and talk to you," you stepped aside to let him in. "What brings you here?"

"Wanted to check up on you and make sure you packed the right supplies. You don't go up there as often as Sucrose and Timeus do," he gripped the strap of the bag on his shoulder.

"How... considerate," you planned to think about what you were going to say to him on the walk to the headquarters, but his sudden appearance left you unprepared as to how to approach the topic.

He glanced at your suitcase for a brief second before he spoke again: "You might reconsider the boots you're taking. Do you, perchance, have one with better insulation?"

"Albedo," you interjected more impulsively than you should've. Albedo turned to draw his attention to you. "I was thinking, maybe I can't do that trip. You see, I'm a week away from my departure. And I have lots of stuff to take care of before I go. I'm sorry that I'm sort of abandoning the project before its absolute completion, but..."

"I understand," Albedo's faint smile almost put you at ease. "You're busy. Everyone is, including myself,"

You just nodded, hoping this conversation would end already.

"So, let's skip the trip and go straight to the testing phase."

Weight placed on your hips and wrists, pain on the back of your head as you laid on the floor—it happened too fast. Soon, you began wrestling your arms, trying to break free from his grip but failing at it. You didn't understand how someone of Albedo's build and height could have such strength.

Your arms trembled, and you gritted your teeth, trying to push him off you. Fed up with your resistance, Albedo shoved you more against the floor, as if trying to prove a point—you're not going anywhere.

"I'd advise against making this harder than it already is," Albedo furrowed his eyebrows, his other hand pulling out the concoction out of the bag he had brought.

"Are you listening to yourself? You're asking me to stay calm in a situation like this?" your efforts to break free didn't falter for a single moment. "Are you out of your mind, Albedo? What the fuck is wrong with you!"

He didn't even seem to be listening to you; he unscorched the flask and poured the liquid into his mouth. He leaned down towards your lips, and you didn't need a second more to understand what he wanted to do.

He discarded the empty flask and took the opportunity to use his now free hand to pinch your nose, forcing you to open your mouth out of absolute distress and forcing the liquid into you.

You tasted blood, and at the same time, Albedo grunted from pain. You had injured his lip out of spite without thinking twice, but rather than angered, he had a pleased look instead.

"Why," you cried, your heart aching from having your trust broken by someone as important to your life as Albedo.

"Isn't it evident enough already? Ah, my apologies. You have your moments of being dull, needing aid from me to spell it out, don't you?"

Albedo was mocking you.

How much crueler could he be?

"There are reasons aplenty for these actions. One of them is that I can't stand the idea of letting you go. I hope you can find the possibility of forgiving me before you forget everything."

Seeing you were slipping out of conscience, Albedo finally let you go and cradled your head, resting his cheek against your temple, murmuring soothing promises that you didn't believe.

The place where you woke up was soft and comforting. It smelled of fresh linen and the faint aroma of cecilias.

Coming into your senses, you rose from the bed and looked around, recognizing you had no recollection of why you were here or who you were...

Your first instinct was to head to the door, which you did.

A cold gust of wind blew straight into you, your once warm cheeks felt chilled at the drastic change in temperature. You shielded your eyes and squinted, discerning a pair of boots advancing in your direction.

"You're shivering," a pale, blond stranger with azure eyes guided you back inside with tender hands.

The stranger closed the door behind him with his leg and set down the stuff he was carrying. He brushed off the snowflakes left on your hair, not yet meeting your eyes.

"I know you have a lot of questions…”

You interpreted that as an invitation to ask away, which you did. The basic information about yourself, what's in this place, and about him.

Albedo wasn’t one to opt for easier ways out when it came to his work. He pushed himself to his limits, neglecting his commodity for the sake of advancing with his studies the most he could; he broke that habit with you. He chose the easy way out to avoid losing you; he chose the easy way out to trick you into feeling safe with him now.

“You can’t leave this place. There are people out there who want to hurt you.”

Himself, being the first one to wound your trust.

“The moment they see you, they’ll want to pounce on you.”

Not for the reason he was deceiving you to believe in. They’d run to you to hug you and ask why you had disappeared.

“I still must go down the mountain to bring what we need to live here in relative tranquility. Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it,” he rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs into your shoulders, his voice’s timbre akin to an analgesic. “Whatever you need, let me know,”

Albedo’s soft gaze was the first one you met back then, and as the days went by, not once did you sense any danger or discomfort within his presence. Considering that he was the only person you interacted with, you soon found yourself growing more attached to him.

Albedo sat down on the bed you shared, shrugging off his coat. He just came back from one of those trips he made to bring water, food, and other indispensable supplies. You watched him in silence, wondering if it would be alright if you acted on your heart’s whims.

He took off his boots too and undid his braids before he laid down next to you, facing the ceiling. His eyes were half-lidded from exhaustion. His chest rose and fell at a languid pace, his cheeks red from the cold.

He must've noticed your prolonged stare because he spoke up: “What did you do today?”

“Oh, I just stared at the wall,” you joked.

Albedo smiled, glad that you had at least retained some of your personality.

“I went through your sketchbook. The place where you go to fetch our stuff appeared to be warm and bright,” you sighed, longing to feel the sunlight on your skin and not the cold breeze trying to fight off what little warmth the sun provided. “I also tidied what I could, but there’s not much stuff to organize anyways,”

He hummed, his eyes still not meeting yours.

“Albedo—” you called out for him before you could stop yourself. You covered your mouth afterwards, but it was already done. You had the entirety of his attention on you.

“Yes?” he turned to face you; his cheek squished against the pillow.

Now that you thought about it, you realized you rarely glanced at his face, at least not with this amount of clarity. He was close; you could appreciate in detail every feature of his, like how the locks of hair he braided framed his face in a different way now that they were untied.

“I noticed there’s something worrying you,” he uttered.

Calling him was one thing your heart ached to do, and placing your hand on his cheek was another. The latter, however, you acted out on.

His face was warm. You expected it to be the opposite, but you were happy that it wasn’t the case. And it grew warmer the more you left your hand there and the more you approached his lips.

And the kiss heightened in intensity whilst his hands found your hips, and you positioned your leg over his. You wondered if his heartbeat was as fast as yours did now or if he had fantasized of something like this occurring. He didn’t push you away. In fact, he pulled you in closer. He locked his arms around your frame, loving you with a desperation not usual of him.

It was evident in his eyes how much he yearned for this, for your love. Despite that, he took his time to undress you, caress the expanse of your abdomen, and kiss every inch of your skin. His hands went from your hips towards your chest and gave you a gentle squeeze. Your body’s response occupied his keen observation; thumbs rubbed on your nipples, and more arousal pooled between your thighs. His index fingers joined to pinch them carefully—a moan left you, and his heated attention shifted towards your face.

Albedo swallowed hard before he shifted positions to sit between your parted legs. His kisses went to your neck, and a hand slid down towards your glistening folds. He prodded first, marveling at how slick you already were, and then glided a finger inside. You hugged him closer, unused to that sensation. You were hiding your face in his hair, but Albedo didn’t mind.

A finger became two, increasing the tempo little by little. Even though the stimulation wasn’t directed to your clit, his palm rubbed the spot anyway.

“More,” you panted, your arms tightening around his lean frame. You could feel the muscles on his back tense and release from his movements, and his hot breath was fanning your neck. Albedo, always responsive and pliant to your wants, rubbed his thumb faster against your clit, the thrusting of his fingers inside of you became sloppier. You’d be embarrassed at the amount of slick sticking to your inner thighs, but right now, you don’t have the mind for it.

Just before you reached the edge, he stopped.

“Albedo,” you whined, tears forming in your eyes from your ruined orgasm.

He didn’t seem guilty in the slightest when he cupped your face and swallowed any other complaints you had by claiming your lips with his; tongue slipping against yours, and softly groaning into the kiss. You felt him suckle your tongue a bit and pull away. You almost whined from the loss, but your thoughts vanished once he stroked your clit with his dick. Albedo’s interest piqued each time you twitched from pleasure, taking in your reactions.

“Put your legs on my shoulders,” he asked, waiting for you to come back into your senses to do so. With uncoordinated movements, you managed to follow through with the request, and he pulled you in closer.

Hot.

It was ardent when it made contact with your stimulated and sensitive hole. Albedo had trouble controlling his heartbeat, and after some seconds of preparation, he eased in. It was an enjoyable stretch, reckoning Albedo’s intent on satisfying you.

Albedo filled you to completion, the tip poking a vulnerable spot inside of you. The tremors in your body didn’t subside when he touched it, and he could feel it himself. Gripping your hips with a firm hold, Albedo began thrusting. In and out—a coordinated and gradual pace. You were getting used to the sensation of having something of that girth inside of you, and Albedo was trying not to cum so fast.

“Your body reacts so beautifully when I touch you here,” Albedo’s fingers went back to your clit, and you arched your back when he began stimulating it in tandem with his thrusting. He was about to say something else until a groan cut him off, feeling you clench around him.

Whatever self-restraint he preserved left his movements closer to fucking than lovemaking, with how fast and hard he was yanking your hips in his direction. Not like you would complain, anyway, since his sleek fingers (from your wetness) were rubbing on your clit. You were treated to the airy groans and gasps that emerged from his bitten lips and the unusual sight of the collected alchemist losing his composure, thanks to you.

You approached an orgasm faster than you thought you would, stopping your body with spasms and blanking your mind. You managed to hear Albedo’s own groan of pleasure and hot, thick spurts of cum inside of you. Albedo hurried to kiss you, ensnaring your body taut to him, making sure everything went inside.

You were tired, and you didn’t even care that Albedo was still resting on top of you. After a few minutes, he pulled out and laid next to you, hugging your shivering frame to his.

“Do you want me to prepare a bath?” he kissed your temple.

“That sounds like a good idea,” you mumbled, clinging to him.

The next morning came, and Albedo found he had to go back down for an emergency. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he prepared himself to go out, wishing you could go along with him.

“I’ll be here as soon as I can,” he said, putting his coat on before going away. “If I’m not here by nighttime, expect me to arrive in the morning,”

You nodded, considering whether you should attempt to ask him to tag along.

By the time you made up your mind, he was already gone.

Last night, as you were drifting off to sleep, you recalled some information regarding Albedo: he’s an alchemist.

You had no recollection of him ever telling you the precise field of his work, but for some reason, you were convinced it was a fact.

The more you fell down the rabbit hole with the question of why you were so convinced about it, the more you began remembering bits of information before you were brought here.

You glanced at the pile of research notes, notebooks, and sketchbooks left on the desk. Amongst the notebooks, you recognized one he tends to take with him whenever he heads outside of Dragonspine. For a moment, you entertain the idea of running after him to give it, since it’s important. You decide against it, given that you don’t have the appropriate equipment to stand the unforgiving temperature or something to guide you.

Days like this were boring, so instead of looking through his drawings, you went through the notebook.

A particular page catches your attention.

You skimmed through it, the mumble-jumble of words not inspiring you to stop and analyze it. However, the moment you identify a series of daily records detailing who worked to create this experimental potion and the progress made with each study—

You found your name.

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