i told u i aggro things just by existing, 1 of my many charms it's possible i could've unintentionally pulled him closer to the edge of the veil though i am not saying that is what has happened before u freak out on me
depends how it died and how pissed off it is ill just say that appearance-wise it looks like the dude had a fucked up death and his vibes were super no bueno him touching u made me uncomfortable bc it was rly bold
i know him in theory we only met a couple times but he was the worst fucking one he beat the shit out of my mom one time and did the same thing to me anyway i never touched him
lighting someone up like the 4th of july doesn't rly seem like ur style esp if we're not talking premeditated one doesn't just set a person on fire in self-defense. that takes effort.
bc it is much easier to grab the nearest sharp object and go to town vs taking a lighter to someone's clothes and hoping theyre flammable idt he was doused in lighter fluid either but i didn't get a good read on him
my mom has a scar at her hairline from when he slammed her face into the bathroom mirror doubt we were the first single mom and son duo he fucked with but we were definitely the last he was a piece of shit and i don't give a fuck about his angry fucking ghost
ok i'm at the beach already if you go past the bonfire there's a little stretch of beach kinda by the woods promise you won't send me any more fucking emojis
[ it's all he sends because he's starting to overthink this and needs to put his phone down. delta knows too much, but the details are still a mystery to him. that's good. ashe can continue to play this off and do his own research on how to get rid of an angry spirit. no need for delta to ever know what he really did that night, and he's not sure why he's in this specific location on the beach because it's far too close to where he dumped the body into the ocean.
it's stupid. it doesn't matter. he idly heaps sand around him while he waits for the edible to take effect, forming the base of the castle and quietly enjoying the balmy breeze moving through his hair.
he doesn't remember when he plopped down onto the sand and started stargazing, but the castle is wholly forgotten while he tries to find pegasus amongst the constellations. ]
[ despite ashe's overwhelmingly weird reaction, delta more or less forgets about his angry apartment spirit the second he closes his phone. out of sight, immediately out of mind.
fifteen minutes later, he's at the beach with a full tank of gas, parking near the boardwalk and walking down a grassy dune toward ashe's location. it's unseasonably warm tonight, but delta is dressed in a light jacket and torn jeans, aggressively kicking up sand with dirty black chucks.
he finds ashe slivered in moonlight, distant firelight burnishing his hair a shimmering copper. how pretty he is is a gut-punch, every time. ]
What's up, man? [ but delta's good at this, an entire nineteen years spent pretending to be someone he's not, just another rich kid with endless privileges, and he can pretend that looking at ashe doesn't squeeze his heart to pathetic mush. fucking easy. done.
he narrowly avoids stepping on his unfinished sandcastle as he drops to the ground next to him, hugging his knees to his chest. ]
[ delta appears out of nowhere, and ashe lifts his head just to make sure he didn't flatten his castle. still there. good. he twists a lock of his hair around one sandy finger when he plops down again, eyes half-lidded. ]
Yep. [ and he's glad for it, because he can finally feel his stresses begin to slide away. the sound of rustling plastic fills his sense as he roots through the back pocket of his jeans to pull out a small baggie with a square of rice krispie inside. also falling to the sand are his wallet and a stray condom, but it only vaguely registers. ] Here.
[ it's nice to have delta here, sort of. he does come with the possibility of being sucked into another dimension, but overall delta can be pleasant to be around. sometimes.
he gestures at the heaps of sand. ] Make, like, a tower. And a dragon.
[ there are too many jumbled up memories in his head and he doesn't know which one he's supposed to be thinking about. there's dumping the body into the ocean, but there's also sitting on the shore building a castle with his mom. he doesn't know how it's possible to wish she was here now while also feeling intensely relieved that she's gone. ]
You know when you asked if I had a best friend? [ he looks over to check the progress of the tower. little to none. disappointing. ] It was my mom. She was my best friend. Like you and Genevieve.
[ this is quietly comfortable. delta sheds his jacket and shoes and socks, hitching onto his knees in front of ashe's unfinished sand castle. he tears the rice krispie wrapper with his teeth and takes a bite as he starts forming the dragon with one hand, long headless body stretching into a semi-circle around the base of the castle.
it's easier to focus on that than ashe's face and lips. less obvious, too. ]
You shouldn't keep your condoms in your wallet. [ god, he sounds like six. he flicks sand from his fingers, popping the rest of the rice krispie in his mouth and leaning over his knees to nudge his wallet with a curled knuckle. ] You dropped your wallet, by the way.
[ while crafting the dragon's head and slithering tongue, he wonders how often ashe has done this, and with who, if anyone. for delta this is every friday night in high school, laid on the beach away from the party with a girl on top of him or his head in her lap, gentle fingers mapping every sparse freckle on his face and nose. it feels tentatively familiar, intimacy dipped in glass. one wrong move or word and everything shatters to the shrill tune of ashe telling him to fuck off forever.
his eyes return to ashe's face when he says viv's name. has he been talking this whole time? fuck. ]
I never really knew my parents. [ never really upset him, either. his parents' former lives are shrouded in mystery because six doesn't talk about them ever and as far as delta knows he has no other living relatives. ashe's relationship with his mother may be fucked beyond repair, but delta can tell he loves her. he almost wonders what that's like. did his parents love him the way ashe loves his fuck-up mom?
two important facts delta learned in the time he spent on his knees sucking ashe's cock: he likes to touch, stroking his lashes and cheeks, smearing his bottom lip in saliva with his thumb, grabbing fistfuls of hair between hissed fucks — and he has a tattoo on his finger, almost invisible now in the dark. delta swings one leg over the castle and scoots closer to ashe, pulling his hand into his lap and turning it palm up.
he hooks his thumb over his finger, brushing sand from the tiny, neatly printed numbers. ] This is her, right?
[ ashe's hands are little ice cubes, so much colder than the rest of his body. he cages his hand in both palms, lips touching his fingers as he blows hot air into the gap left for his mouth. it's stupid and utterly gay, but he doesn't let go. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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it's possible i could've unintentionally pulled him closer to the edge of the veil though i am not saying that is what has happened before u freak out on me
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if it got closer to the edge of the veil
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ill just say that appearance-wise it looks like the dude had a fucked up death and his vibes were super no bueno
him touching u made me uncomfortable bc it was rly bold
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the fuck
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u do know him
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we only met a couple times but he was the worst fucking one
he beat the shit out of my mom one time and did the same thing to me
anyway i never touched him
[ technically ]
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maybe he tripped and fell and broke his fucking neck
karma's a bitch
what does this have to do with me
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he was burned alive and asphyxiated on the smoke
im not saying he didnt deserve it but he died in ur living room
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this is officially none of your fucking business
fuck off
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i wasn't accusing u of anything
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you think i killed him
can't you see me getting pissed off enough to snap
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one doesn't just set a person on fire in self-defense. that takes effort.
did u kill him
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i'm not saying yes but what if i did
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idt he was doused in lighter fluid either but i didn't get a good read on him
u said he deserved it
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my mom has a scar at her hairline from when he slammed her face into the bathroom mirror
doubt we were the first single mom and son duo he fucked with but we were definitely the last
he was a piece of shit and i don't give a fuck about his angry fucking ghost
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u say u didnt touch him then drop a shady confession
im not going to judge u for whatever happened dude
i just want u to be careful rn in the present
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it's all stupid anyway
i don't give a fuck about this i'm trying to get high and build a sandcastle
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[ not really that sorry because warning him felt right but he will apologize every time to keep the peace. ]
lets get fucked up
promise u wont ditch me
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if you go past the bonfire there's a little stretch of beach kinda by the woods
promise you won't send me any more fucking emojis
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need to get gas real quick
that is a promise i cannot make
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[ it's all he sends because he's starting to overthink this and needs to put his phone down. delta knows too much, but the details are still a mystery to him. that's good. ashe can continue to play this off and do his own research on how to get rid of an angry spirit. no need for delta to ever know what he really did that night, and he's not sure why he's in this specific location on the beach because it's far too close to where he dumped the body into the ocean.
it's stupid. it doesn't matter. he idly heaps sand around him while he waits for the edible to take effect, forming the base of the castle and quietly enjoying the balmy breeze moving through his hair.
he doesn't remember when he plopped down onto the sand and started stargazing, but the castle is wholly forgotten while he tries to find pegasus amongst the constellations. ]
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fifteen minutes later, he's at the beach with a full tank of gas, parking near the boardwalk and walking down a grassy dune toward ashe's location. it's unseasonably warm tonight, but delta is dressed in a light jacket and torn jeans, aggressively kicking up sand with dirty black chucks.
he finds ashe slivered in moonlight, distant firelight burnishing his hair a shimmering copper. how pretty he is is a gut-punch, every time. ]
What's up, man? [ but delta's good at this, an entire nineteen years spent pretending to be someone he's not, just another rich kid with endless privileges, and he can pretend that looking at ashe doesn't squeeze his heart to pathetic mush. fucking easy. done.
he narrowly avoids stepping on his unfinished sandcastle as he drops to the ground next to him, hugging his knees to his chest. ]
You high already?
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Yep. [ and he's glad for it, because he can finally feel his stresses begin to slide away. the sound of rustling plastic fills his sense as he roots through the back pocket of his jeans to pull out a small baggie with a square of rice krispie inside. also falling to the sand are his wallet and a stray condom, but it only vaguely registers. ] Here.
[ it's nice to have delta here, sort of. he does come with the possibility of being sucked into another dimension, but overall delta can be pleasant to be around. sometimes.
he gestures at the heaps of sand. ] Make, like, a tower. And a dragon.
[ there are too many jumbled up memories in his head and he doesn't know which one he's supposed to be thinking about. there's dumping the body into the ocean, but there's also sitting on the shore building a castle with his mom. he doesn't know how it's possible to wish she was here now while also feeling intensely relieved that she's gone. ]
You know when you asked if I had a best friend? [ he looks over to check the progress of the tower. little to none. disappointing. ] It was my mom. She was my best friend. Like you and Genevieve.
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it's easier to focus on that than ashe's face and lips. less obvious, too. ]
You shouldn't keep your condoms in your wallet. [ god, he sounds like six. he flicks sand from his fingers, popping the rest of the rice krispie in his mouth and leaning over his knees to nudge his wallet with a curled knuckle. ] You dropped your wallet, by the way.
[ while crafting the dragon's head and slithering tongue, he wonders how often ashe has done this, and with who, if anyone. for delta this is every friday night in high school, laid on the beach away from the party with a girl on top of him or his head in her lap, gentle fingers mapping every sparse freckle on his face and nose. it feels tentatively familiar, intimacy dipped in glass. one wrong move or word and everything shatters to the shrill tune of ashe telling him to fuck off forever.
his eyes return to ashe's face when he says viv's name. has he been talking this whole time? fuck. ]
I never really knew my parents. [ never really upset him, either. his parents' former lives are shrouded in mystery because six doesn't talk about them ever and as far as delta knows he has no other living relatives. ashe's relationship with his mother may be fucked beyond repair, but delta can tell he loves her. he almost wonders what that's like. did his parents love him the way ashe loves his fuck-up mom?
two important facts delta learned in the time he spent on his knees sucking ashe's cock: he likes to touch, stroking his lashes and cheeks, smearing his bottom lip in saliva with his thumb, grabbing fistfuls of hair between hissed fucks — and he has a tattoo on his finger, almost invisible now in the dark. delta swings one leg over the castle and scoots closer to ashe, pulling his hand into his lap and turning it palm up.
he hooks his thumb over his finger, brushing sand from the tiny, neatly printed numbers. ] This is her, right?
[ ashe's hands are little ice cubes, so much colder than the rest of his body. he cages his hand in both palms, lips touching his fingers as he blows hot air into the gap left for his mouth. it's stupid and utterly gay, but he doesn't let go. ]
There must have periods of some normalcy.
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tw homophobic slurs??? just in case
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