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grayscale-sparks · 1 day ago

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ok gray i know you asked for prompts yesterday but like. drunk kayne. i don't even mean drunk like, how a human would get drunk (tho you can if you want) i mean like. drunk on arthur drunk.

do with that what you will thank you i love you bye

okay I hope I fulfilled your prompt, I had so many different ideas but this one was the loudest

1500 words about blood and spiders and Kayne losing his mind over Arthur <3

The lower register of the grand piano echoed slowly across the room, a bone chilling chord that laid the heartbeat of the orchestra.

Power. A foolish word. A concept grappled by Kings, and wielded by shadows.

The orchestra fell away as the piano rang, and the Shadow’s attention was drawn back to the stage. The Pianist had a cadenza, eyes half lidded as he poured his soul into the keys.

Time stretched and the Shadow’s breath was suspended. The Pianist didn’t know he was there, watching in the back of the concert hall. The key dipped into something darker, a vibrant blood velvet that suggested eternity. The Shadow trembled at the spotlight.

A hearty applause rang out at the end of the cadenza, and the Pianist bowed his head humbly as the orchestra took over, steering the piece back on track. The crowd stared at him with open admiration, and he allowed them a simple smile, but his eyes wandered to the dark corners of the concert hall.

Before the Pianist could find the Shadow, the music called him back, demanding a final call.

Arthur was standing in the hall outside, watching the orchestra accept flowers and congratulations, it was one of his best performances yet, and the praise he’d received was phenomenal. The director had shaken his hand, clapping his shoulder and making him promise he’d consider coming back for their next concert.

Pay wasn’t half bad either. It put food on the table, and gave him a little extra spending money. Plus, he did gigs on the side, playing for any new jazz group or just by himself if he could. And of course, some of the songs he’d put on the radio sent in a couple pennies every now and then.

But the orchestra was a good position. He’d be coming back, if only because he appreciated how much it relaxed his budget.

“You were the pianist, right?”

Arthur jolted at the voice, as smooth as a blade, as familiar as his own. “Kayne.”

“Arthur!” Kayne crowed happily. “You do remember your old pal!”

“We were never friends.”

Kayne was grinning when Arthur turned to face him. He was dressed quite nice, no longer soaked in blood. Arthur shuffled his music into its folder with a sigh.

“What do you want?”

“Can’t I just say hi?” Kayne asked innocently.

“No.” Arthur said. “John’s not here, either. Leave me alone.”

Arthur began to leave, and Kayne followed him out. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Kayne.” Arthur said sharply. “Leave.”

Kayne winced. “Sorry, I forgot about your pretty addiction. It’s gotten worse now that Johnny boy left you, huh?”

“John didn’t leave me.” Arthur snapped, pushing out of the concert hall’s back door and into the cold Arkham night. “We came to an agreement allowing him the chance to experience the world by himself.”

“When’s he coming back?” Kayne asked. Arthur’s jaw tightened, ignoring the question. Kayne laughed, throwing his arm around Arthur. “You have no idea, do you Artie?”

“He’ll come back.” Arthur muttered, mostly to himself.

“You want that drink now?” Kayne asked, bumping his nose into Arthur’s cheek.

Arthur led them to a small hole-in-the-wall bar that anybody would have missed if they weren’t intimately familiar with it. The bartender waved at Arthur. So it had gotten bad again. Arthur didn’t take a place at the bar, instead opting for a small booth in the corner.

“So? What do you want?” Arthur asked.

“I heard you were playing tonight.” Kayne said. “And you know I love it when you do that.”

“Are you… Are you always there?”

Always. Every single performance. I never understood withdrawal until you weren’t under my control.

“Only some of them.” Kayne said instead, shrugging as if he couldn’t care less. “But this one… You did good.”

“Thank you.”

“Rachmaninoff, yes?”

Arthur nodded. “I’ve had plenty of down time to practice.”

“Nobody’s back to watch.” Kayne translated. “Do you like freedom?”

Arthur looked away, catching the eye of the waiter that was bringing his drink. Something nondescript and amber, rather sad looking.

“Blood and sand.” Kayne said.

A short nod, and he was off again. Arthur scowled at him and took a sip.

“Really?”

“Did you know, I’ve never actually had one.” Kayne admitted. “The amount of universes where it’s Yang’s favorite drink- the amount of times I watched you drink and make that same exact face.”

“It’s actually disgusting.” Arthur said. “Parker always hit me when I said that.”

“It can’t be worse than your recycled tap, there.” Kayne said.

Arthur shrugged and took another swig, letting his eyes wander around the near-empty bar. Kayne felt like spiders were crawling under his skin, into his brain, their little legs getting into every crack and crevice. They could burst through his skin at any moment, destroying any semblance of control he still retained after the performance.

Tunnel vision might have been the right word. Hyper aware of nothing but the other end, the world around him blurring and cracking and phasing in and out of comprehension. A failing of the mortal eye, one that frequently plagued Kayne’s senses.

“Kayne?” Arthur had reached over and was shaking Kayne’s wrist. “Kayne.”

Kayne wrenched his hand away, skin burning where Arthur touched him. The spiders were frenzied, writhing in agony, heat licking down his wrist and into his fingers. His whole body shook with a tremor when he met Arthur’s eyes.

“What’s happening?”

“Nothing.” Kayne said dismissively. The waiter had come back with his drink. He took a too-big gulp and almost spat it out. “Holy motherfucker-”

Arthur laughed, not helping the agony of the burning spiders. He wiped his mouth and settled on glaring at Arthur. His musician looked almost fond, relaxed, safe. Kayne needed to tear his pretty little heart from his mouth, he needed to pull him too-close by the ribcage, he needed to taste his blood that pooled from his throat.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you,” said Kayne, who could see no one else. “You boyfriend had a terrible taste in drinks.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Okay, they really aren’t that bad.”

“I beg to differ, they really are- Christ Arthur.”

“What??”

“Stop- stop doing that.” Kayne said, tugging at the roots of his hair to try to ground himself. Arthur wasn’t doing anything, just sitting there really, but Kayne needed to watch his chest bloom open, he needed to leave claw marks on his arms and fucking bite anywhere he could reach.

Arthur must have picked up on something, maybe he saw the spiders, maybe he felt them too. Kayne was going to dissolve. He calmly finished off his drink while keeping his eye on the bartender. “Let’s go. My apartment.”

The sound Kayne made was frankly embarrassing, but Arthur didn’t pay much mind. He was too busy grabbing his coat and music. Kayne was frozen in his seat, all mobility lost in his limbs. That was embarrassing too- a hyper-moble being reduced to utter stillness. He was a storm brewing in place, the thunder sending tremors through his body.

“Kayne?”

“I need you. Now.” Kayne said. “Now, now.”

Arthur scowled. “Okay, so we’re in public. You’re in my world, you follow my rules. Got it? That was the deal.”

Kayne nodded, not really remembering the parameters of the deal. Whatever Arthur said went, though. God, it had been far too long. Kayne cursed himself for staying away from Arthur for so long. His blood was addictive, and Kayne had been hooked for eternity.

“You know, I like you better when you don’t argue.” Arthur mused. “Come on, get up. We’re leaving.”

Kayne’s head was screaming, the spiders crawling in and out of his mouth, into his eyes, fogging his mind and leaving no room save the constant chant of Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. Kayne stumbled into Arthur’s chest, who instinctively tried to push him away.

The bartender didn’t care though. Blood was pouring out of his eyes and ears and nose and mouth and look at that he had slumped across the bar. Some of his blood was in a cup he was cleaning. Kayne would drink it but he had picky tastes now. None would taste as sweet as Arthur’s.

“Tell me you didn’t just kill that man.” Arthur said, holding him at arm's length.

“Uh… no, he’s making a blood- blood and s-” Kayne didn’t even finish before he unravelled into a fit of laughter, held up only by arthur. “Blood and sand! Probably why it tasted so bad- w- wasn’t yours.”

“Mine.” Arthur said flatly.

“Your blood.” Kayne hummed. “Sweeter than a cherry.”

Arthur studied his face. That detective cunning, that sharpness that Kayne would use to cut himself open with, it was intoxicating. Kayne had no idea what he saw.

“Grab a glass then.” Arthur said, letting Kayne go. Kayne straightened up, the spiders trying to wrap their little webs around what was being said. “Drink up.”

#gray’s yapping again #with friends!#malevolent #malevolent podcast #Masked #kayne malevolent #arthur lester #arthur lester malevolent #arthur malevolent #arkayne #i kinda want to write a follow up what do we think

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