the-softer-ones

[the-softer-ones]

It’s fine lol! Don’t feel pressured into answering if you don’t wanna. Though I gotta ask,,, Who’s wedding are you planning?

So I have a Host ask blog ( @blind-radio-waves uwu) and recently Mal (an anti based OC at @gliitch-demonz) proposed (it was cute, he used a necklace with a feather from his wings on it, but there’s a whole other story) and now I am planning the wedding for that! 

[the-softer-ones]

Hello sorry i am alive, but my brain went ‘hyperfixate on planning a fictional wedding’ 

[the-softer-ones]

Anti shifted to curl up when he was freed only to be pulled into Authors chest. He didn’t fight at all surprisingly. He pulled his arms to his chest, lightly rubbing at his already scarring wrists as he held the blanket. He was still shaking like a leaf however, leaning into any and all of Authors touch because of how warm he was. He didn’t speak, didn’t move from his new position even when he was given the drink. He drank of course despite the fact he was beginning to feel sick from it.

Author pulled the bottle away after a moment, shifting to set it down and pressing his hand against the back of Anti’s neck, holding him there. “You are freezing.” He mumbled, tilting his head, debating with himself for a second. Anti would need food soon, and Author really wanted him to be dependent on him, trust him. He hummed absentmindedly as he thought, staring off at the wall. Perhaps he could wait a moment longer. See if Anti would complain. Though, Author wasn’t sure if he’d comply or not if Anti did. 

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He whined pitifully as the water was taken from him waiting and hoping he’d be given it back. It wasn’t until Author mentioned it that he realised how cold the water was and yet he still drank when offered not knowing when he’d next get the chance- though it felt like liquid ice ran through his veins. Author was warm so when Author left he shuddered unable to hold any of the warmth. It wasn’t like Anti could fight as he was wrapped in the blanket. He was still bound unable to move.

Author carefully undid him to wrap the blanket around him, humming softly, slowly petting his hair back. He tugged Anti close to his chest, then grabbed the water again. “Slowly now dear.” He murmured, tipping it towards his mouth, still making sure not to give it to him too fast. Despite the fact that it would be only water, he really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit. "Just relax, alright? You’re safe with me.” 

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Any slither of hope left in had left in those few moments. His stomach twisted into the tightest knots and the lump in his throat made it hard to breath and he really didn’t have the energy to hyperventilate anymore. Another quiet plea left his lips as he let his eyes close. He barely had time to drop down his existential spiral when he heard the door creak open. Anti pried his eyes open, mind screaming to just sleep. His fingers curled in a weak attempt of tensing. (1/2)

Aside from picking at the skin of his hands he hands he hadn’t felt anything besides hunger. His eyes widened as he was touched but he didn’t make a noise. Anti’s skin was ice cold to the touch which was definitely not normal and Authors touch burned. It was a good kind of burning but it was a lot and not enough and he leant into the touch slightly. He couldn’t stop himself from gulping down the water attempting to soothe his throat despite Author telling him not to. (2/2)

“Ah ah ah, honey, calm down.” Author pulled the bottle away, not letting him chug the water. “It’s cold. You may be cold, but it’ll still shock your system darling.” Carefully, he let the water trickle into his mouth, not too fast, before shifting a bit, taking the water away again. “You’re so cold...” He murmured, running his hand through his hair slowly, before standing, humming softly. 

“I’ll be right back, alright doll?” He asked quietly, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, before leaving the room, shutting it behind him. Author grinned to himself for a moment. He dug around, finding one of his thinnest blankets, before slipping back in, shifting to tug Anti and wrap it around him. 

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It had been a week. One week and Anti was cracking. He hadn’t eaten or slept or drank anything in this time and was bordering on delirious. Around Day 3 his panic had peaked, kicking and fighting and pulling to no avail once more convince Author had grown bored and left him to die. The little sleep he did get was plagued with nightmares sending his paranoia and fear into overdrive and he was cold. So fucking cold. Between his constant trembling and keeping his eyes open Anti was drained. (1/2)

He’d kill to know what was real and what’s was not. He had began seeing things in the shadows unable to fell if they were real or imagined. Anti blinked slowly, gaze drifting goalless until he spotted the door. “A-A-uth-thor?” He croaked out voice hoarse and barely audible, “P-please.” A final desperate plea fell from blue-tinted lips. (2/2)

Isolation was his favorite way to torture. Author knew it was effective, from his own experiments and experience, and had waited, calmly, just outside the window, for when he would finally break. He did get bored at one point, and went out to gran someone else. He was disappointed, the other having lasted barely two days. Still, he spent most of his time watching Anti suffer. 

Which meant he was there when Anti called out for him. He let a grin spread across his face, and stood, grabbing a water bottle from his counter. He let Anti wait for just a moment more, before pushing open the door to his room. It creaked quietly, and Author kicked it shut as he moved over to Anti, one hand cupping his face as he got close. “Hey there...” He kept his voice soft and quiet, moving his hand only to open the bottle for him, brushing the hair off his forehead. “I’ve got water, alright, but you can’t drink too fast, you’ll make yourself sick.” Author murmured, carefully tipping the bottle to his mouth. 

[the-softer-ones]

Do you wanna do a time skip? Or like drop the thread? It’s totally fine I just don’t wanna add any pressure to you or anythin and feel bad sending multiple asks

Ah! Im sorry, I keep like,,,, looking at it? And not knowing how to answer it, and just end up not doing anything. I dunno! We could try a time skip? Maybe? 

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He didn’t know if the dark was worst or better. It dawned on him how cold he was, how truly afraid he was though after a few minutes he could see again relatively well once his eyes had adjusted. It didn’t really help however as his mind supplied figures in the dark which weren’t there. Anti didn’t let himself sleep. Instead he lay shivering, tears welled in his ever moving eyes, idly sinking his claws into his palm for the pain to keep him awake.

When he got up later, Author still felt dizzy. He groaned softly, standing carefully and shuffling his way into the kitchen, making breakfast. For a moment he debated, but soon enough he decided against it, only making breakfast for himself. Once he had finished, he shuffled over to the two way mirror to peek in on Anti, eating slowly as he thought. He could just leave the other alone in there, unsure of how much time had passed, let himself recover a bit more. Isolation was a fun technique, and, if he was seeing that correctly, Anti hadn’t let himself sleep. Author sighed softly, sitting carefully. He paused a moment, before pulling his journal out of his pocket. Something small wouldn’t hurt, he was sure of that one. Though what to do, he wasn’t entirely sure. To pass that, he wrote the room cleaner, though not too much so, mostly just getting rid of the sharp iron smell of the blood, as well as a few of the stains of it. 

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Hewwo! Are you alive? (I also don’t remember if I actually replied...I know you posted late my time and can’t remember if I saw it and went to sleep or replied lol)

you have! I can’t reply today or tomorrow cause I’m literally about to get into the car and drive for like fifteen hours, but!! I will try the day after! Im sorry for like,,, dying again 

[the-softer-ones]

His audible cries didn’t last all that long, his tears slowly came to a stop of only because he had nothing left in him to cry. Anti whimpered, heaving and having to desperately try to swallow down his own vomit, grimacing as a hoarse cry left him. He whimpered screwing his eyes shut. Anti’s fight against his restraints didn’t last long he was just so tired but also terrified that he was going to wake up numb with Author cutting him open or maybe he wouldn’t numb him next time...

Author listened to him cry for a bit, smiling to himself, before slowly stumbling to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall as he staggered down the hall to be able to collapse onto the couch. There, he sighed, and let himself slip back off to sleep, exhausted both physically and mentally. Falling asleep triggered an old writing, which he had set specifically for that, the lights throughout the house, including Anti’s little room, flickering off, leaving them all in the dark, as well as starting a small defense system, which would wake Author from his sleep if anyone tried to get in, or out. 

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Anti was startled by the sound of Author hitting the floor though the numbness hadn’t left enough for him to recoil instead his breath caught in his throat and he stared wide eyed. However his attention was pulled from Author as the wall of feeling slammed into him all of a sudden. His chest ached and he felt violated, like he could feel prodding finger inside off him. He pulled taught against the restraints, a broken sob pulling from his lips as the taste of bile filled his mouth.

Author grinned to himself as he listened to Anti cry, before managing to sit up and lean against the door. He brought his hand up, wiping his nose to find blood, and sighed softly, shaking his head. He’d need a day or two to recover fully, but that just meant less of his power and more of his mind games or just physically doing what it is he wanted. Though, with how Anti’s skin healed, Author knew he’d need to use his writings to fix him in the end. Author groaned softly, and stayed leaning against the door, listening in on Anti as he cried, using that to convince himself that the entire thing was worth it. 

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Oooo! Does he know when he’s gone too far or is it a kinda guessing thing? Like could he be totally fine and alter the tiniest thing before dropping or is it an impending feeling of Oh no oh fuck?

There is the impending feeling of ‘oh fuck i made a mistake’ but he often ignores it and tries to push through it. In his mind he thinks if he pushes himself a little bit further each time, it’ll build up strength, like someone whose working out adding a bit more to their reps over time. Author, however, doesn’t like to wait and think through things, so he often tries to do one big thing at the very end before he’s out for the count, and, as you saw, it causes him great pain and dizziness, and/or him just passing tf out. 

If he paced himself a bit more (ie, was more patient with literally anything) he would be able to do more than he currently can at a time, but honestly he’s just pushing too far and hurting himself more than helping. I think this also contributes to his eventual shift into being the Host. 

[the-softer-ones]

He had all the expected organs that all appeared to work correctly. Besides his skin that never quite sealed anatomically he wasn’t that wrong. Anti twitched when the numbness began to wear off but other than that he was entirely reaction-less, just letting himself float away from the situation and feeling- and as he began to regain feeling it wasn’t good feelings. The scar was a nasty looking thing, jagged and bleach white against his skin which at the edges was still that darker colour.

Author smiled, tracing his hand along the scar as it formed, smiling softly. “Oh... that’s amazing.” With that, he shifted and fell onto the floor, passing out before his head even cracked against the floor. He was down for only maybe a minute, but when he managed to wake again, he couldn’t figure out how to stand, and growled softly, glancing back towards Anti, before crawling from the room, shutting the door behind him and laying in front of it, having overexerted his powers a bit too much. 

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He went back to watching when Author wasn’t looking at him, eyes half lidded. He could pretend to be unconscious then maybe he’d stop prodding at his insides like they weren’t actively trying to keep him alive, like he was just a slab of meat. Then Author spoke and all his thoughts ground to a halt. If he died Author would just bring him back. Death wasn’t an escape. He couldn’t- he wouldn’t- Anti’s eyes fluttered and glazed as he came to this realisation, dissociating, eyes drifting to the roof

Author hummed, not really caring much that he wasn’t fully there anymore. He settled in next to him, going back to poking around inside him, opening his chest and really just looking. He poked around inside him for a bit, but didn’t really remove anything, spending a good while just observing Anti’s organs moving as they worked. Eventually, Author knew he had to close Anti again, and he did his best, though the skin that didn’t cut normally caused Author to frown, sitting there for a minute as he thought it through, the numbing slowly starting to wear off as he did, before he finally decided to just write it out, though it would exhaust him, and he would end up getting real close to being too weak to continue. It pissed him off, not being powerful enough to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. So, again came out the journal, this time as he kept Anti’s blood on his hands, the papers beginning to soak it up and making the entire thing a mess, as Author wrote out the skin he had cut at least shutting again, though wanting to leave a scar there at the very least. 

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He immediately averted his gaze when Author looked. Anti had paled drastically during the process and either looked like he was going to throw up or pass out- though he wasn’t sure the former was possible. He would have been hyperventilating if he was able to but his body wasn’t reacting to his panic. Perhaps he could pretend to have passed out, surely that would make Author stop? The blood loss was clearly affecting him in that he got visibly more tired and sickly pale.

Author hummed softly, barely paying attention to that, poking around inside Anti for a moment, before glancing up at him, seeing him pale, then looking back down at his hands, realizing just how bloody everything had gotten. Author sighed, leaning back and wiping off his hands for a moment, grabbing a small journal from his pocket. “Bothersome.” He muttered, writing along the paper carefully, frowning softly. Anti still couldn’t feel it, as Author carefully wrote through to cauterize the various wounds that were still bleeding too much, and just in case, Author added another hour to the count, since he wasn’t exactly sure how long he had spent marveling over his skin when it was cut. “You’re not allowed to die on me, you know that? If I needed to I could bring you back, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun, nor when it be the same.” He huffed, and, as the magic hit him, closed his eyes, letting it roll through him, managing to stay on his feet. 

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As long as it was only a few millimetre it healed but anything deeper was just ugly cuts down his chest. No matter how careful Author made the cuts they didn’t come out perfect, instead jagged, like it tore through his skin rather than a medical incision. The very edges of the skin darkened and almost curled back which was similar to the skin around his neck (and the reason the wound never properly closed though Author wouldn’t know this). Anti would have been screaming, sobbing- begging- (1/2)

he could feel the incision being made. He couldn’t feel the pain or the pressure really but he knew Author was cutting open his chest. Perhaps it was phantom feelings, what he thought it was supposed to feel like at the very least. He couldn’t react to Author but he hoped and prayed he didn’t intend on solving his ‘little maths problem’ while his guts were strewn across the bed. He hated being numb, being unable to move but it was stopping the pain so he supposed he was grateful. (2/2)

Author watched his skin curl with fascination, eyes wide and grinning. “Oh this is interesting.” He tried to be extra careful for a moment, though getting the same results, his eyes wide and gleeful. “Oh, this...” He grinned over at Anti, looking excited, the kind of smile that wouldn’t be too out of place for a kid on Christmas, if Author’s eyes didn’t hold that slight void, the unfeeling, uncaringness of his eyes turning the entire look sour. “You are so much fun. There is so much I can learn from you.” With that, he turned back to what he was doing, peeling skin back from muscle, not yet cutting through that, though after a second of inspection, began his way deeper, humming a tune to himself. 

“You know, I think I should numb people more often for this type of thing.” He spoke calmly as he moved flaps of skin and muscle aside to get to Anti’s intestines. “The screaming can really get on ones nerves, you know? And this is so much more fun without someone just screaming at you to stop. At some point you’d think people would learn that I’m not going to.” Author hummed softly, setting down the scalpel for a moment, tilting his head as he looked in on Anti’s insides. “But adrenaline is a hell of a drug. You know one time someone managed to break free while I was in the middle of this. Tripped and all his guts came spilling out of the wound all over the place. A real mess for me to clean up, especially when the entire thing got infected. That toy didn’t really last all that long...” He sounded almost sad about, but shook his head. “I shouldn’t focus on the past, not when I have you to play with.” 

[the-softer-ones]

That sounds like a... fun process. I hope everything’s going okay

Yea! It'll be good, but it may be a week or two before I can finally get back to my computer and I can't properly answer rps on my phone so,,, apologies for that one.