#half the lyrics may not be plot relevant but boy is it a Fucking Mood

[albatris]

HI hello hope you're enjoying this nice rainy Tuesday, I was listening to 'The Only House That's Not On Fire (Yet)' and I know it's a ATDAO bop and I was just curious as to how exactly? May I request a Ramble? As in-depth as you would care to be? Thank you thank you

hey hey hello hi!! I am enjoying this nice rainy-Tuesday-that-is-now-a-not-rainy-Thursday c: I hope you're enjoying it also, hope you're goin good, hope you're up to all sorts of cool stuff!

thank you for the question!!! I am always always excited at any opportunity to ramble about ATDAO song choices so as soon as I saw this in my inbox my thoughts started going a billion miles an hour

anyway, hey, yeah, ramble time! ramble might be a little fuzzily-worded because my brain is a little fuzzily-everythinged but hopefully it makes enough sense ahaha

ok, so!

this one is a bit of a peculiarity on the ATDAO playlist, actually! it falls into the category of "this song doesn't have an awful lot of direct plot relevance and is mostly just here because Vibes" yet, somehow, if pressed to name the song on the playlist that encapsulates ATDAO best as a whole, I would say it comes pretty close to the top spot :P

so, yes, a lot of the specifics of the lyrics don't particularly fit if we're thinking in literal terms......... the ENERGY is unparalleled though. HOWEVER I do have some particular parts of the song I can direct your attention to, of course, which I'll get into in a sec -

but ya, as for the song as a whole? it's the cheerful, upbeat acceptance of a series of completely bizarre circumstances! it's just a good bop for being like Welp I Guess This Is My Life Now. and being so accustomed to the completely bonkers state of your reality that it's all just completely mundane to you, which parallels to ATDAO so nicely

plus the start of the second verse, like so

I feel strangely regular / but honestly I prefer it to the usual bizarre / damn that oxymoron

AND the very...... feeling....... concept.....? of this being the only house that's not on fire yet is just kind of like........ I mean, whatever the narrator of the song is involved in, it very much gives me the impression of being entirely at the whims of some force that's volatile and completely incomprehensible

with the "yet" being crucial

But something keeps me as a pet / the only house that's not on fire yet

combined with the general tone of the music gives me the image of just like. sitting on ur front porch sipping a margarita, having just watched the rest of your street devolve into chaos and fire knowing you're completely at the mercy of something bizarre and all-powerful and just being like. "hm. yikes. anyway--"

it's a good tone for the general state of the ATDAO world, which is full of people going about their everyday lives against this bizarre backdrop of ever-present looming apocalyptic dread, completely at the whims of a chaotic and indifferent universe

like

the world is ending! the world is ending! a reality-warping sinkhole just opened in your local bowling alley! but in more pressing concerns, you're almost out of milk, you should try and get to the store before it closes or your mum won't have anything for her cereal tomorrow morning

another point I wanna address is the bridge (?) which is just

the punchline is that there is no punchline

repeated over and over, which is the kicker for this song in its relation to ATDAO imo

'cause like

the theme in ATDAO that keeps coming back and the main......... antagonistic......... concept? force? The Thing The Protagonists Are Constantly Up Against And Struggling With In Some Fashion Or Another? is simply "there is no meaning to this, there is no answer, there is no grand puzzle to be solved, this is all just cold and unfeeling cosmic machinery that doesn't even know you exist"

quite literally, if this is the universe's idea of a joke, there's no punchline

like, the things that happen to Tris and Noa (and Shara and Kai), the things that set the plot in motion, these are acts of chance, these are people being in the wrong place at the wrong time, these are ordinary human people getting swept up into the gears of this endless grinding machine they can barely comprehend and There Is No Point To It. There Is No Motivation Behind It. it happens because it happens!

and there's this shift from like..... seeing it through this very human lens, being angry AT something, being angry AT a particular force, trying to reason with it, trying to plead with it, trying to make it hear you......... to the realisation that there's nothing on the other end of it, there's nothing there to hear you, nothing to take the force of your anger and fear. and like, you knew you were alone, but you're only just realising you're ALONE

n just. "there is no punchline" just clicks FANTASTICALLY for that

(n of course, that's..... grim. so it bears repeating that, like...... the whole heart and soul of ATDAO is people coming face-to-face with the reality of an uncaring unfeeling universe and deciding, Hey, No, Fuck You. it's people caring about people, intentionally, purposefully, violently, no matter the costs! it's the human capacity for love and kindness and connection in the face of horror and indifference! and it matters! even if it doesn't matter at all, it matters!! it matters here and now in this tiny speck of time and space!! love is at the centre of everything!! it's the single greatest act of defiance against the nothing!!!!)

(and that's not relevant to this post at all, I just would have hated to leave on that sort of note LMAO)

long story short: tune good c:

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

Hello, hello, here’s my piece for the Halloween minibang organized in courtesy of the Chicken Tendies and Bacon Bits DabiHawks server~ and have the link to a more sensible reading experience (as t gets rid of formatting, too, and I’m lazy to put it all back in, at least for now): ao3

I was paired up with pineapple hair boy (dunno his url still rip) and our promt was haunted maze! \o/ I kinda included the other two we were gunning for, devil deal and ghost stories, so... multitasking, yo. Also put in my suggested fog, because as time passed, I realized how good it was even though I just put something into the box lmao

I’ll link pineapple’s accompanying piece as soon as they’re done with it, right here, in this line!! AND HERE IT IS!!!  👀

(Some of you may note... that I was supposed to be the artist. Well, it’s a long story, and likely on me tbh; I spent p much the entire week working on my piece, but I also started writing this one, and suggested doubling down on content, but unfortunately timetables are evil, and pineapple got mobbed enough as to likely run out of time if he also wanted to finish writing, so, um... yeah. This is not to say that we won’t do our original project, though, so stay tuned for the bonus round, hopefully soon! \[T]/)

(... also, I may or may not be considering to make this a full story, so there’s that)

Keigo trips for what feels like the millionth time on this way through the undergrowth- by day, the manor labyrinth is fairly easy to navigate, the kids frequenting it has kept it threadable. Nobody has legitimately tended to it for years, though. Or rather a decade, actually, it’s been a while he was here. Honestly, who cares, because--- oh, for fuck’s sake, more rose or blackberry or whatever vines to untangle his legs from. Great. Just… great.

He squints at his watch; still on time. Catching his breath after getting free surprisingly fast this time around, he takes a look at his surroundings. Not that he sees much, bear you. It’s near midnight and pitch dark. To top it off, the thick-ass fog often present, source: right damn here, has also crept into town. In fact, this is the worst it has gotten this year yet. There’s also barely anything he can hear from the dying-off autumn festival two streets and half an estate over.

It’s only him, his phone's flashlight, and the camera around his neck that also keeps getting caught in shit. That, and his own breathing that's getting his lungs numb from all the cool, wet air they are being exposed to.

Fooling around for so long has made him feel… antsy. Just a bit. The fact that his goal, that is to say the family crypt of the moneybags who used to live here is so close doesn’t help, either.

The entire plot is the stuff of local legends. The mansion is-was infamous for its… flammability, so to speak. Every few years, at least one room got totalled. Some believed that the last master had been a pyromaniac, up till the umpteenth house fire snuffed his line, and himself at the age of 60-something, out for good. But old folk said that the building had been ablaze just as frequently before his time- and truth to be told, there had been two more fires ever since, although those could have been the aforementioned kids or the occasional squatter. Two fires in about ten years is pretty normal in an abandoned place like this.

A few of those old people said the mansion had been built on hallowed grounds in their parents’ time, and the fires were punishment for disturbing the church ruins and the dead it used to house. Even fewer said the church must have been built on the very gates of hell and the ruins had kept the flames at bay.

And old geezer Giran in particular said that you could see the devil himself on the night when spirits roam free, around where the isolated belfry’s foundation stands still with walls crumbling- the place around which the crypts were erected on top of upturned graves. To be frank, the dude himself looked as if he escaped from hell, so what better myths to bust as an aspiring photographer? And even if the devil won't drag his ass outside, this will still make one hella Halloween photoshoot. He has loads of candles and some lampions in a backpack to get the mood right as well.

If anything remotely threatening pops up, though, like a mean stray dog… or a horde of drunk homeless, he's so ready to run for the hills, you have no idea.

He’s pricking his ears good as he closes in on the center of the once-upon large cemetery. One has to acknowledge the effort those rich bastards put into this dumb maze layout just to hide their own dead. It’s as if they feared a zombie apocalypse and concluded that they wouldn’t be able to get out if the hedges grow in a pattern, like, seriously. Then again, if the ‘horde of drunk homeless’ situation comes true, it will feel and work just the same, so who’s he to judge.

The scenery, too, is something to behold still. The entire area is surprisingly… not very foggy. One can see just as far as there is anything relevant to see, nothing more, nothing less. The waning moon even came out to play for a bit, shedding some decent light on his surroundings.

What catches his attention is not the excellent lighting to make photos, though, but rather someone sitting on the ruins of the old belfry, right under where the plump planet is working her magic.

He checks the display of his watch again- two past midnight. He’s late. Well, bummer… maybe next time.

That… guy, though? He doesn't look like any devil he knows of, but rather a human figure. One he also doesn't know of, actually. Which is remotely more interesting than Satan himself, because… that’s a goth silhouette if he’s ever seen one, and he’s seen all in town. All three of them.

They are a chill bunch, so he figures he might as well go up to this one. May be an acquaintance of Tokoyami and company’s who was also told about this spooky deal.

"Hey. Have you seen the midnight devil, or did he not get the memo this year?" He lifts a hand over his eyes to let him have a clearer look.

Just the way the other looks over to him, even while slouching quite a bit, is in a manner that’s nothing bar… uh… majestic, should be the word? Sublime? Yeah. That's peak cinematography. He’s… a bit at a loss of words here, because? People have waxed lyrical about the positively blessed relationship between him and sunlight, but this guy?? Has legitimately the most beautiful pair of eyes ever, period???

Before he could get too entranced by the sight of the sky blue pins of the overshadowed figure sitting between a moonlit sky and milky deep sea of mist, he notices that said eyes skim over him. Slowly, creeping down, and then up. Um…

Did… did he just check him out?

A hardly concealed grin can be heard out of his voice as he speaks up. “Hey there, angel."

… that's a yes.

This… coming from someone with eyes and a voice like… that, is actually… hm.

Like, look… he’s been looking forward college to maybe…  find someone he genuinely clicks with. But he has been through this immediate infatuation thing a hundred times already… and knows from experience that falling for mere potential is a grave mistake. What even are the chances that he’ll be the one? Put the aesthetic boner away and think rationally, Keigo. You don’t even know his name.

However, if, and IF he plays his cards well and this is not a total asshole… he could get both a photoshoot and a phone number out of this endeavor, which sounds like an excellent deal.

“Straight to the point, eh?” he acknowledges with a grin that's almost genuine. “Witching hour stuff aside, I don’t think I’ve seen you around…? A friend of Tokoyami’s?”

The other hops off the wall as he’s talking, stirring up some fog. Keigo could swear to hear absolutely nothing upon him hitting the ground. Must be the grass, but still, confirmed for cat. Not having to deal with the moon’s flare, he can now also tell that he’s about as old as expected.

The young man pauses to think for just a second before walking up to him. Nonchalance and weariness mingle in his steps.

“No, but I think I do know who you’re talking about. The kid with the raven.”

“Oh? Yeah, that’s him. Just visiting, then?” So he’s somewhat familiar with the area. Huh… how in hell did he never notice someone so obvious? Maybe he should come out here more often.

Also, is it just him, or did it get really cold all of a sudden?

“Him and his friends spend a lot of time here, I know enough. And yeah, something like that.”

As he stops in front of Keigo, an odd sensation trickles down his spinal cord, raising every hair on his nape. He’s had this once or twice when watching a legitimately good horror movie or catching a glimpse of an especially beautiful scene, or at least something very similar. It’s just the cold and being out in the middle of nowhere with a handsome stranger this time (which is kind of a combination of both), but still.

… this is not the time to be thinking ‘but what if he’s a serial killer and you are stuck out here with him alone’, brain. Thanks.

“Family business, gotcha.”

He’s onto something, because a certainly troubled look flashes over the hot--- the goth’s face as he reaches up to his own nape to rub away at it. “... yeah. That.”

The train of thought is seemingly swept out of the way after short consideration and his attention returns to Keigo. His neutral staring face is actually a little unnerving, no lie. “What about you, coming out here? Didn't quite catch what you first said.” He eyes him in a way similar to when he was sitting up on the wall, as if measuring him up.

“Oh, I wanted to take some photos,” Keigo starts, lifting the camera and the first candle he can grab from the bag, swinging it playfully around a few times with a smile to mask the nerve building up inside. “I figured it would be a nice opportunity even if the hearsay tale of the ~devil~ coming out at midnight was total humbug. This place is very atmospheric.”

What he says rouses a chuckle from the other. “Oh, so I wasn't imagining things. Been a while since I last heard that one.”

For someone deadpan he really has a cute smile. We are on a schedule here, but please never stop?

Keigo presses the tip of the candle into his cheek in contemplation, trying to steer his thoughts back on topic. “You mean, that local legend thing? I heard about it fairly recently… from the most suspect old dude." He rolls back and forth on his heels, watching out for reactions; "Giran, if the name is telling. But asking other old folks made them ring a bell, too, so I guess I was just ignorant.”

The other raises an eyebrow in amusement as the fading smile pulls into a smirk. "Maybe you are, a little bit."

Oh, come on. "Nobody is born cool, wise, or a folklore expert, okay…?" He pouts.

"I could already tell you were born without a trace of those things, alright."

"..."

He just said that. Looking him dead in the eyes.

Wow.

Dude's lucky his smile is cute, because that was so uncalled for and he's way too proud of himself. Sheesh. Anyway…

"Said the one who wouldn’t know manners if they hit him in the face…” He sighs. "Before we go down the name calling path, though… I’m Keigo." This was getting a little awkward without throwing it in, although he doubts the cocky asshole deserves it.

“Touya. My pleasure.”

Keigo hums as he moves to rummage through his stuff for the lighter he definitely threw in the bag before setting off. That’s not a very common name, but… “I think I’ve heard of you before…? Beats me where, though.” He’s pretty sure the conversation happened years ago by the crypt here, though.

Everything he says seems to amuse the other to no end. “It’s probably for the best. You seem like the type to run for the hills.”

Keigo gives him the side eye; being right aside, the hell is that supposed to mean…? And he’s so smug about it, too. About everything, really.

And no, it really wasn’t a line even remotely connected to serial killers, shut up, brain.

“Cryptic, are we?” he sighs, lighting the candle with a flickering click at last. The gentle flame sheds some dim, fog-broken light onto Touya’s face, and Keigo hates himself for being charmed by what he sees once more. That pale skin looks too perfect to be true… should feel like silk under one’s touch. If he ever gets a proper close-up look, he swears he’ll get a heart attack.

Touya blinks once, resetting his expression to nearly a default. “It's the two of us in a haunted, abandoned graveyard, inside a fog ridden maze, on the night after the 31st of October. You are basically begging to wind up dead. Coming off as cryptic and creepy as possible right now is elementary, angel.”

He… he legitimately can’t argue with that. The guy's almost as good at this as the bird kid is. “... touché.”

Stunned for words, he places his candle where planned instead. It's so stupid, but makes… so much sense. Is this why they all are like… that?

As he moves on like that without a word, Touya seems to get weirded out himself. "... You okay there?"

"I just had… an epiphany." He says, putting the first lampion with pinpoint precision. This guy just accidentally revealed some kind of arcane goth knowledge too advanced for him to begin to understand and doesn't even know it.

Touya heaves a deep sigh. "... you obviously got the wrong one out of that, but congratulations nonetheless."

“Maybe? I have not the foggiest what you were trying to imply.” He’s not that thick, but the dude’s being ~cryptic~ or whatever, and he’s not in the mood to write an essay on what edgy goths mean by what they say.

“Ah… figure that's why it's so clear out here this year… all the mist from the glade must have relocated to your head.” concluding that, Touya’s eyebrows pull closer upon seeing whatever else the blonde pulls out from his backpack while shooting a glare in his direction. “… what are those for?”

Keigo considers not answering at all, but decides against it. Being the bigger person by default is such a chore sometimes, but… “There’s some decent moonlight to work with, but these umbrellas help me get the little extra I need right where I want it. See?” With that, he turns the flashlight on and blinds the other with the sudden brightness.

“Ow, seriously?! I haven’t seen daylight in decades, turn that shit off…!”

… but, he can multitask and still be an asshole while answering the question. And laugh at the reaction, then laugh some more the decades comment as the other rubs his eyes, because he positively has the looks of a display-tanned indoor hermit. A hermit who is having a bad time.

“Wanna help, or would you rather brood somewhere the umbrellas won’t be able to reach you?”

A mechanical click can be heard in the distance; now that there’s no music playing in the streets, the bad (and always slightly ahead of time) clocktower bell can be heard signalling quarter past midnight. This seems to catch Touya’s attention and remind him of something as he stares into a nondescript spot for a while. At the very least, Keigo is certain he’s not thinking about the question that slipped out and which he will regret- if he says no, it’s gonna be the disappointment… if yes, then it’s because of all the things that will definitely go wrong.

“... well, it’s not as if I had no time to kill,” comes the apathetic answer a few seconds later, although the wrinkling eyebrows are telling of his misgivings regarding the idea.

“...”

Now, hold on… hold on, he may have an even worse idea that he’s definitely going to regret…

Keigo taps his pointing fingers against the camera anxiously. “Actually… say, what would it take for youuu… to be my model tonight?” He takes out his best puppy eyes as he looks over to him with the tiniest smile, blinking slowly.

It’s as if Touya had another light induced migraine immediately. He looks almost disgusted, which… is hilarious. “For that I'll take both your life savings and your soul.”

Keigo stifles both a giggle and a sigh at that, resulting in somewhat of a snort. He must be put off by those umbrellas quite a bit. "Really…? If that’s all, fine by me."

The answer brings back Touya to a much more reserved, if not vaguely sceptical stance. “You… sure are ready to jump the gun for that, huh.”

"Well I, too, am asking a bit much of you out of nowhere, aren’t I?” He asks, shrugging. “I figured it was worth asking, at the very least… you fit the mood a little too perfectly, one doesn’t get an opportunity like this every day. If all it takes is my birdie bank, that’s fine by me. … We can also talk about the soul part later if you want to.” It takes him every ounce of self restraint not to throw in a wink at the end.

“...” Touya stares in contemplation before taking a deep sigh and scratching his head. "Fine. I guess it’s going to be much less bothersome than posing for hours to have a portrait painted."

Keigo’s ears perk up at that. Like, a lot. "Y---you… there's a portrait?!"

Whaaa?!? A professional-ass painting, of him?? And, even more importantly, where?!?

"... I know what you're thinking of, and no, I have not the slightest idea. Who knows, maybe it even burned along with---" he cuts himself off right there. For the first time that night, he seems upset, or rather angry; whichever it may be is the strongest emotion the blonde has seen him display in these past minutes, affecting even him quite a bit. His hairs stand alert once more--- but the sentiment goes as it came, along with Touya’s stifled ire.

"... never mind. Let’s just… get on with this."

"..." He figures that being nosy would be straight-down rude, having just met and already asking for quite a bit… so he lets it slide as if nothing happened.

Keigo turns around to the lampion that he placed before the convo started.

Huh… that’s weird.

He doesn’t remember lighting it.

Overall, Touya seems to pay quite a bit of attention to what he's doing, visibly taking mental notes of the processes he goes through. First, it's a little embarrassing to be watched so closely, but eventually Keigo gets used to it and just does his thing. He soon finds himself in the zone, in fact. Hell knows how much time goes by as he keeps clicking away, barely even instructing, but rather just basking in whatever the other does, giving the okay to everything. He’s not even bothered by the bone cutting cold that’s now heightened by a breeze, because Touya seems to be a natural, and by god, does his presence do things to him. He’s had phases of architecture, mixed media with cutouts and shadow play, birds, and abandoned places, but this… this must be what finding a muse feels like.

When he's looking for the misplaced lighter for the hundredth time again, it's already shoved into his face.

"You should just keep this in your pocket, angel."

"Ah, thanks." He takes it, then turns to Touya sheepishly while pulling his jacket tighter as the light wind blows especially cold air down his collar. "I've been… stupidly quiet for a while. It must be really awkward, uh… am I really not bothering you?"

"It's fine. I like having the company."

Maybe his voice is softer than before… or maybe he’s just imagining things.

“I, uh--- same.” Keigo feels blood creeping to his face, so he quickly moves on; “I have enough of these candles left for like about one more location. Any ideas?”

It takes Touya only a second of consideration before he nods towards the belfry ruins.

He flashes a smile; “Gotcha.”

In barely 10 more minutes, Keigo is speeding through the hundreds (whoops?) of photos he’s taken, walking circles around the ruin. His breath hitches over the one where Touya looked directly into the camera right by the wall. He’s gonna frameit and putitonhiswardrobedoor andmmmakeit his ppphone wallpaper---

He can hear a chuckle behind him, and remembers that whoopsie daisy, he’s not alone. “You're pleased as punch over a few pictures… It’s adorable.”

Keigo gets red to the eartips this time around, realizing that he’s got that goofy-ass smile Rumi keeps teasing him for. Unfortunately for him, once it gets pointed out… it always sticks. “I’tsjustthat---…!! I… didn’t think I’d get such nice photos at all? Moody scenery is nice and easier to sell, but I prefer lived-in spaces and models, anything that feels alive. Especially when they’re so pret...ty. Patient.”

Someone kill him.

“...”

The thin eyebrows twitch the smallest amount and for a torturous, silent pause Keigo wishes for some kind of deity to strike him down and grant a merciful, immediate death.

“I suppose I’ve had a few years to put some patience practice under the belt.”

He fights the urge to run away crying. There’s no way anybody exists who wouldn’t see right through that… at least he gets to see that cute smile once more.

He forces one on, too. “... I can tell.”

The wind starts picking up, distracting the other. Touya takes a look up to the moon, which has made quite some progress on its route since they’ve been there. Then there’s three clicks echoing through the night, signalling that it’s nearing 1 a.m. “Well… you were babbling about showing me, too, so you better hurry. I don’t have much time left.”

Keigo snaps out of the shameful frustration only to be legitimately ashamed. “Oh… sorry, I… hadn’t even considered that you had other business tonight.” Shit. He just assumed he had all night, but Touya was just humoring him until he had other business.

The other shakes his head. “It’s no issue, just get your fidgety ass over here already.”

As he makes his way over to him, Keigo feels something grab onto his leg and the familiar itch of thorns scratching up skin through his jeans.

Fucking vines again.

He should have expected this, shouldn't he. As he stumbles forward, he sighs in immediate acceptance.

He would have never expected being caught, though.

Nor Touya’s hands being as cold as a frozen piece of meat that can be felt even through his jumper and jacket. His touch sends shivers down his spine, freezing him in surprise first; if the strap didn’t get caught around his arm, the camera would hit the ground as his hand loses its hold on it.

What he’s definitely not ready for, however, is the arctic chill radiating from every inch of Touya’s, the same icy presence that he’s been feeling ever since… since he got close.

The thing that makes him break into cold sweat and brings even the blood in his veins to a halt, however, is the pair of forget-me-nots staring into his soul from mere inches.

Those beautiful, blue eyes, that… that are glassy and clouded and definitely not… human.

His lips part, but the scream dies off in his throat.

The realization flashing in his eyes draws a lenient, gentle smile onto the pale face. “You’re slow, angel.”

Keigo's paralyzed in what he can only guess is sheer terror, his body's last resort in hopes that the threat will just leave if it's not interesting enough to investigate. His mind, however, is racing and panicked as his inevitable end leans in for the kill.

Fuck.

Fuck, he's… dead.

He's dead, he's dead, he's dead---

He’s dead.

At least, that’s what he remembers thinking before passing the fuck out… not knowing who exactly he was referring to anymore. Because he feels positively not alive when waking up on the belfry’s cold ground, on the patch of concrete that lay behind where the catafalque used to be, surrounded by what remained of the candles and lampions he had brought along, and some of the flowers that people decorate graves with.

The spot where everyone suspected a former hidden path… or another grave.

He turns around, because now he remembers where he last saw the name Touya- it’s barely legible, but there it is, crudely chiselled into the stone right above the grey ground.

At first he supposes that the cold, empty feeling that seeps through his entire being must be the nasty cold and pneumonia he gets after the deed. As the days go by, however… the shivers and cold sensation persist and his dreams are plagued by endless mazes, fires, and haunting, blue eyes all the time.

His second guess for the cause of it is lingering fear: on the camera, he finds creepy photos of himself lying in the grave once he gets better. When going through them all, he considers to delete the ones he took of the other or use them for digging, (there’s no fucking way he actually hung out with a ghost, is there?) but… they all pop up as vaguely distorted landscapes, with light spots where a pair of eyes may or may not be.

Having stared blankly for like an hour at the one he really liked back then, he throws the camera into the corner of his armchair and doesn’t touch it for weeks.

This carries on through winter, in spring, and he's convinced of how badly he fucked up when even in the suffocating summer heat he feels the veil of an icy embrace.

Once leaves start catching rust again, the chill makes his bones ache, much like they did after the encounter. And it only gets stronger by the day. He hasn't shown the pictures, developed or otherwise, to anyone. Somewhere down the line he figured… that he should just give him the photos and trade them back for his soul, because hell if that dementor did not help himself to it right along with the kiss he definitely got but doesn’t remember. Trauma alone cannot possibly cause this.

It's midnight again. This time, he's already there, waiting for the toll of the distant church bell they had fixed and reset sometime in spring. The autumn fog is as thick as ever.

His grip tightens on the envelope; deals like this are notoriously hard to break or undo. Hell, the guy agreed to have the photos taken, creating a nice little loophole. Whether he printed them, deleted them all or whatever might be a moot point.

… no. No, he can't start thinking about this right now, if he comes he'll get this thing annulled, get his damn soul back---

As the last gong dies off in the night, a pair of lean arms slink around his aching chest and pull him against a body so cold it's scalding his skin.

"Hello again, angel," greets the voice, sounding a hundred times sweeter than he remembers.

…

Or maybe… he'll just let him keep it forever.