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anythingdrabbleTitle: Give Yourself
Fandom: Ayatsuri Sakon
Characters/Pairings: Sakon/Ukon
Word Count: 500
Rating: General,
Notes/Summary: Possession. Sakon deals with spirits, why not possession?
The air smelled cold; it smelled as if there were nothing at all. No world, sun, sky, grass—only the solace of silence and ice. The moon pinned itself in the sky, filtering long ways through the windows, casting a blue-white glow over his skin. He'd been to the bottom of a thousand different pits, where little shadow nor light remain. Not this deep—of course. But then, he could go deeper than he's ever gone before; this was the way to hell. Perhaps that was fine.
Sakon swallowed.
He wanted to speak, wanted to open his mouth, but his lips didn't move. So Sakon kept silent, the thoughts failing to meet his lips. If he pretended he wasn't afraid, he was lying, and Ukon would see notice; and what good it would do to put up a facade around the person who knew him best. But what good did it to do stall?
Sakon settled for staring into the barely illuminated ceiling. Cobwebs, spiders, and ancient runes reflected in his jeweled eyes.
"You still there?" Ukon murmured, wooden fingers sliding across his thighs.
His breath hitched. His chest burned. He wanted to ask: how did Ukon know? Had he taken a body before? Sakon might've recovered from the bouts of doubt more quickly if he could bring himself to ask the question.
Instead, he closed his eyes.
His thigh twitched as Ukon smeared a cold, thick liquid.
The wooden fingers slid over again, pinching his thigh a little more roughly, somewhat massaging.
"Are you there?" Ukon repeated, accentuating with a pinch that has Sakon cracking open an eye.
Ukon takes his hand, thumbing. He looked intently, brows furrowed, blue eyes as captivating as the ocean, and it was as only them.
After a moment, Sakon managed, "Yes."
It was then he could breathe.
"Good. Hah, you've been quiet." He was testing. He was trying to make sure Sakon was really there. "Can't lose you now," Ukon chuckled forcedly.
The puppet's grin never frightened him, not once, and it wouldn't start now.
Sakon stared into his eyes. Then, mustering a weak smile, he squinted his tired eyes—knowing the key to a believed smile are the eyes—and made his lips curl. Deep inside, he knew he could trust Ukon with everything; he was only scared.
"Only scared," He attempted, "It's okay."
Ukon frowned, pushing himself up.
"I know." Ukon tilted his head, "Nuthin' wrong with that."
Wooden hands slid over the seal Sakon laid atop of, red glowing through Sakon's pale skin. Symbols burned on pale white, and sudden voices dropped into simple reality, murmuring.
"Do you trust me?" Ukon extended his hand. He pulled it through bangs, entirely authentic, entirely touching Sakon.
Ukon clutched at his hair, staring into the eyes of jewels. Sakon gazed into the skin of deserts sands. Blue eyes flickered away, looking beyond him—to ruins beginning to engulf themselves in flames. They returned, all fire over the ocean.
He arched into the touch.
Fandom: Ayatsuri Sakon
Characters/Pairings: Sakon/Ukon
Word Count: 500
Rating: General,
Notes/Summary: Possession. Sakon deals with spirits, why not possession?
The air smelled cold; it smelled as if there were nothing at all. No world, sun, sky, grass—only the solace of silence and ice. The moon pinned itself in the sky, filtering long ways through the windows, casting a blue-white glow over his skin. He'd been to the bottom of a thousand different pits, where little shadow nor light remain. Not this deep—of course. But then, he could go deeper than he's ever gone before; this was the way to hell. Perhaps that was fine.
Sakon swallowed.
He wanted to speak, wanted to open his mouth, but his lips didn't move. So Sakon kept silent, the thoughts failing to meet his lips. If he pretended he wasn't afraid, he was lying, and Ukon would see notice; and what good it would do to put up a facade around the person who knew him best. But what good did it to do stall?
Sakon settled for staring into the barely illuminated ceiling. Cobwebs, spiders, and ancient runes reflected in his jeweled eyes.
"You still there?" Ukon murmured, wooden fingers sliding across his thighs.
His breath hitched. His chest burned. He wanted to ask: how did Ukon know? Had he taken a body before? Sakon might've recovered from the bouts of doubt more quickly if he could bring himself to ask the question.
Instead, he closed his eyes.
His thigh twitched as Ukon smeared a cold, thick liquid.
The wooden fingers slid over again, pinching his thigh a little more roughly, somewhat massaging.
"Are you there?" Ukon repeated, accentuating with a pinch that has Sakon cracking open an eye.
Ukon takes his hand, thumbing. He looked intently, brows furrowed, blue eyes as captivating as the ocean, and it was as only them.
After a moment, Sakon managed, "Yes."
It was then he could breathe.
"Good. Hah, you've been quiet." He was testing. He was trying to make sure Sakon was really there. "Can't lose you now," Ukon chuckled forcedly.
The puppet's grin never frightened him, not once, and it wouldn't start now.
Sakon stared into his eyes. Then, mustering a weak smile, he squinted his tired eyes—knowing the key to a believed smile are the eyes—and made his lips curl. Deep inside, he knew he could trust Ukon with everything; he was only scared.
"Only scared," He attempted, "It's okay."
Ukon frowned, pushing himself up.
"I know." Ukon tilted his head, "Nuthin' wrong with that."
Wooden hands slid over the seal Sakon laid atop of, red glowing through Sakon's pale skin. Symbols burned on pale white, and sudden voices dropped into simple reality, murmuring.
"Do you trust me?" Ukon extended his hand. He pulled it through bangs, entirely authentic, entirely touching Sakon.
Ukon clutched at his hair, staring into the eyes of jewels. Sakon gazed into the skin of deserts sands. Blue eyes flickered away, looking beyond him—to ruins beginning to engulf themselves in flames. They returned, all fire over the ocean.
He arched into the touch.
