The mans eyes met his once more, a sweet glow emitting from his smile. His soft hair draining out the pattering rain.
"Wilbur.." The grey man spoke, his voice shattering into a thousand shards of sorrow. His plagued complexion mirroring that of death or war.
"Your name is Wilbur too?" The sweeter man muttered.
"No.. No- my name doesnt matter."
He tilted his head and moved his hand below his dusted chin, "I'll call you saccharine."
"Saccharine?"
"Sweet", the man smiled and brushed his thumb over his cheek unknowingly.
Schlatt moved his head away, nervous to face him, he was larger but smaller in every possible way, and he himself, was like Ares, cowardice, running from his fears and battling his consciousness. Yet still, his heart yearned for his warmth, his sweetness to repel his bitterness. Why was he saccharine, surely that was him. Not Wilbur.
Will moved his hand to the mans ears, fluffy, soft, they twitched in his hands and he chuckled, he must of done it subconsciously because the man had let out a small laugh in response before climbing to his feet.
Will looked up at him, if ghosts weren't vulnerable to water, his eyes would've teared up, but instead he reached a hand upwards, letting the man pull him up into his chest.
The sudden contact freezing time. A green glow seeped from the taller man, his head forcing itself backwards, his hands grasping onto the man infront of him.
"WILL!" He yelled, his ears falling back as the man collapsed in his arms, he looked to his hand, beneath his, he swore the color brightened but the room was dimly lit, he was seeing things.
He caught him in his arms and sighed as he looked up at him. "Why whatever i do, you're always in my arms?".
"Is it a bad thing?", he urged, already knowing the answer.
"No..", he muttered, "I'll always be here for you"
"I'll count on it" he beamed.
"What was that?" The ram pressed on, concern tieing knots in his throat. A sense of worry pulling at his heart.
"What was what?".
Schlatt shook his head, "What just happened."
"O- oh, something happened? I dont remember...". Will uttered looking at his feet.
"Of course you don't.". He sighed before sitting next to the man, listening to the rain fade away.
"I don't remember much, did i know you when I was alive?".
A little white lie. A sweet one, cant hurt anyone, right?.
"No."
"Were you a good guy?"
If I were you'd remember me. "Yes."
"I wish I'd have met you."
You did. "Same."
"What kind of things did you do?"
I killed Tubbo. "I helped a child redeem themself.". I ruined your country. "I ruled a country."
"Oo what country?"
"One you've never heard of, don't worry about it.".
1 white lie.
"Oh, im sure you were a great leader. Did you die for your country? An honorable death !"
No but you did...
"Yeah..."
"That's my saccharine.".
Saccharine..
__________________
A/N: Sorry this chapter is only 500 but I got tired of writing this.
I have a quackity x technoblade draft that was requested by someone, that's what this chapter is based off, saccharine.
If you wanted to read the draft:
If you aren't interested then that's fine, i wanna know if I should turn saccharine into a book, I didnt know how to write Quackitys character so its the mcyts instead but its kinda cute :3. I will obviously get rid of the draft if the mcyts are uncomfortable but thoughts on a quackity x techno, i didnt even know the ship existed, pretty weird. I also wanted to try a new concept that wasnt characters.
Saccharine
"You're sweet..
Like honey,," It fell from the tip of his tongue, meaningless?
He laughed a little at the mans statement, a lingering sense of pain sheltering beneath its sturdy claws. An undying wish for words alike to be spoken within a truthful sentence. An uncontainable urge to retaliate, but yet again Ares dagger plummeted through his bereaving heart, cowardice.
He fell silent in hopes to move on, to move away, to escape. Not to face ones fears but to become wounded and flee.
"Techno? I'm uh- sorry, i forgot you-"
He was cut off.
"And you're fragile. Like a bee-"
"Te-"
"Bees are interesting, a lot of people find them unapproachable, poisonous even. Then there's people that let them stay, they aid them and care for them, but eventually they bite. And that's when you take the risk, do i ignore it, or do i let it spread?".
The call fell silent. Alex let out a shaky and uneven sigh, his mind whirring through a multiverse of options, all with the same outcomes. Love or Spite.
"Eventually it takes over, your hands, knees, everything, everything goes numb, it can be easily healed... But if you were the Bee, I'd let you win.".
He was screwing with him. He was drunk? Tired even? He doesn't just say stuff like that without an excuse. Every inch of him wanted to belive his words, believe his kindness, endearment.
But it wasn't him behind the screen, was it?
Inner conflict involves doubting ones thoughts and speculations, a war against imagination and reality, except this time, his imagination was his reality.
He let out another uneasy breath, "Am I awake? What- day is it?". His own questions stumbling hopelessly from his sappy and uncontrollable jaw.
"You can be awake if that's your desire."
"So I'm dreaming."
"Only if you don't want to believe in what's taking place.."
"No.. No i want to believe..."
.
.
.
"But I can't."
- user disconnected -
Spite