[ Every day, she'd try to send something to him in a text. The gradual breakdown of Hell had made that impossible at times, but whenever she could, he'd get something. Some kind of random thought. A snippet of poetry. A desperate plea for his return. Anything to feel connected and to assure herself he was still out there with her somehow, because as long as it went through, he was still surviving. Somehow, he'd come back.
Today, she's chosen a poem she came across while going through all the books she'd brought with her. Hopefully it'd mask how worried sick she was, because it'd been over a month. What if he'd gotten sent back to the burning hell they left behind? What if he was left there, broken and alone, suffering the wrath of another unforgiving god? What if--no. She'll choose to hope. It's all she can do. So off her message goes:
here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
With that done, she moves on to another impulsive distraction, finding herself in one of the rooms full of instruments, supposedly lying in wait for the twins's amusement. After placing down the sheet music and sitting on the piano's bench, she takes a moment to stare at her normal hands, down at the tail no one else can see wrapped around her, scar after scar no longer there. The glamor's been disturbing her as much as it's brought relief. Who is she anymore, now that she appears just as she should?
Shaking her head at herself, she opens the book, turning to a selection she'd heard and wanted to learn. One last fleeting glance at her hands, then she experimentally begins to play. Because just like those messages, having music helped her feel like he was there next to her. Like they were still connected.
Everything she did, it was all for him. Somehow, he'd find his way back to her again. ]
[ He had received all of Monika's messages. And at times, when he had the energy, he would respond. More so at the start. Somewhere toward the middle, his replies fell off. The messages would still go through, of course. He was still in this place physically, but mentally he wasn't -- whether that being because it had been a particularly rough day or because his mind had literally been removed and needed to regenerate. Whatever the case, Tech wound up ghosting. He continued to ghost at first because he kept his phone off to spend solitary time with Jaskier. And later when it became clear Ava had 'gone home' -- he didn't have the time to focus on much of anything else except his rage.
But once the anger burned itself to dust as anger often did, he found himself numb. Despondent. Seeking something to feel something again. Right now, it's the call of music -- music that isn't forcing some feeling on him, whether that's calm or amorous as seems to be the main theme of the mansion. Tech wanders the hall to investigate before coming across her room. And when he appears in the doorway -- what he sees almost takes his breath away.
It is recognizably Monika, but in a way he hadn't seen her for a very long time. Without the horns or a tail or clawed fingers. She's just a girl and Tech feels like he's stepping in the villa again -- walking in on the ivory piano. Just Monika and her little white dress. When he walks over the threshold, dressed in fine silks from Mammon's land (because he hadn't packed enough of his own clothes and now probably lost them all to the fires) -- it's like stepping into the past. Love lost but also love remembered. A first love and all of its excitement, thrill and newness.
With tunnel vision, Tech doesn't see anything but Monika and as a result knocks into a stand. A book falls from it with a dull thud, dust bursting from the leather bound cover. Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus. Ironic, it being Aeschylus. Even more ironic it being about Prometheus -- the god Tech sometimes wished he was. A god who could so selflessly gift fire to the humans and suffer endlessly for it. He had the suffering down to a science. Just not the selflessness. Tech stoops to pick up the play and right it on the stand. ]
Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. That's a new piece. Did you learn it here?
[ The book falls, the music stops, and her head turns with a gasp. After the initial shock and fear disappears, her eyes flick from the book and to the person trying to return it to where it'd fallen from. She doesn't register him as anyone she knows at first, because she's so used to seeing him in far more extravagant, geometric-covered things, but then she sees his face and--
It's him.
Monika's frozen in renewed shock for what seems to be eons but is only a few seconds in reality. It's him. He made it back. He's safe, he's whole, he's here. His words don't even register. She's on her feet, pushing away from the piano so quickly she crushes a few keys in the process. A few tumbles and stumbles and forgetting how her feet even work, then she crashes into him, the meeting of their bodies pushing out the sob that was trapped inside of her. ]
You made it. Y-You made it back...
[ She clutches him hard, doing her best to be mindful of her claws, but it's a struggle not to squeeze him with every bit of strength she has. This continues for a while before she realizes he might not be in the best shape for getting handled so roughly--among other reasons that she shouldn't do such a thing--so she abruptly pulls away, forcing her hands to her sides. It's obvious she wants to reach out again, though, from the way she keeps grasping at her dress, trying to keep her hands in check. ]
S-Sorry. I didn't mean-- [ They didn't mean to do anything, it seems. She shakes her head then averts her gaze, quickly wiping her cheeks. ] Sorry. Um. Yeah...
[ What did he ask again? She can't remember. All she can think, over and over, is that he's here he's here he's here. ]
[ She collides into him and for once, he doesn't flinch back. He'd even flinched from Jaskier at first. Maybe it's a sign he's officially gone numb and there's nothing left to feel. A lifeless machine at long last. Can't even feel their connection. But her warmth spreads into him still -- a heat the glamor can't take away. Instead of stepping back from the flame, for a moment he steps into it and barely brings his arms up in response to the embrace.
Before he can sink in and get lost in Monika, though, she steps back abruptly -- minding some invisible barrier between them that doesn't really exist anymore. He's free. She's always been free -- in terms of following the whims of her emotions, at least. Maybe there's freedom together? Or at least an escape...
Tech shakes his head slowly at her apology, dismissing it without words. His eyes veer past her toward the piano. Probably another thing his mind couldn't conquer. Like all the games he was once an expert at playing. Now he's reduced to slightly better than a novice. What is he without all of the world's information at his disposal? Certainly nothing worthy of Monika. ]
I should have told you I was back sooner. I just...needed the darkness to recover. I'm not so sure I even recovered, though. Don't know if I'll ever recover.
[ But he trails off -- keeps the self-pity to a minimum. No one wants to hear someone drone on and on about how hopeless everything is. Tech moves past Monika to the piano, tapping the highest key. It squeaks out a sound and Tech moves his hand back as though burned. Just as suspected. He doesn't recall a single piece he'd once played. There's no connection to himself, no muscle memory. Not with this awful combination of what Mammon did to him and the power nullification Lucifer has in place. ]
You should keep playing. It's not like we have anywhere to be. The car reached it's pit stop, but there's not a person waiting for either of us. We can stay here as long as you want.
Oh, it's--it's fine. [ She smiles briefly, then shakes her head, even if she wishes she'd been told right away. No need to let her selfishness get in the way, though. ] I'm sure you had a lot on your mind. You'll be fine eventually, I know it.
[ As he heads to the piano, she glances at the book he'd knocked over, holding her arms to hold in the lingering feel of him there. Once the feeling fades, her eyebrows lift and her fingers reach out to run over the cover. Definitely not one she's read before, but the name...Prometheus. The Titan that gave man fire. Changed the trajectory of humankind forever. The chance to thrive and grow...
The high note rings out, and she startles, gaze jerking his way. It pulls her from her thoughts and back to the god standing before her, looking lost and despondent. Her hand curls away from the book, a hand she vaguely realizes isn't tingling with the remnants of their usual connection, and it comes to a rest over her chest. An ache pulls at her heart to see him like this, but then-- ]
The car...?
[ After a bit of filtering through her memories, which still feels so dull and slow after experiencing just how fast her mind could actually work, she then remembers--the poem she sent him off with. Her heart thumps harder. Is she reading too much into what he's saying?
Swallowing hard, she joins him at the piano, retaking her spot on the bench. Her fingers shake a bit as they settle back onto the keys, but she doesn't resume playing just yet. ]
The song. To answer your question, I heard a demon playing it. They said it's from, you know. [ She nods upward. ] I thought it was pretty. They transcibed it themselves, apparently.
[ A short silence follows as she glances his way. ]
I'm glad we can share some music together again. [ She hesitates, but the words spill out anyway. ] I missed you.
[ After Monika settles onto the bench, Tech follows suit -- sinking onto the corner and keeping a respectable distance between them. He nods to her answer. It sounded vaguely familiar in that sense that it was from outside of hell -- something modern. But with his connection to his typical information severed, he couldn't place it. Couldn't come up with the name after only a few measures. He could only listen to the notes with a vague and haunting sense of familiarity. A sense that carries over into their relationship. Everything so hauntingly familiar. Being this close to her spreads a dull ache in his chest, ribboning around his lungs.
Does the ache come from yearning or does it come from loss? Does it come from nostalgia or does it come from grief?
He glances over at her after her comment about missing him. Tech chews on his guilt, his jaw tensing. Because the first thought he has after she says that is that he wishes he wasn't here. He wishes he could go into a void and be nothing -- a myth of a god that doesn't exist. And that's an unfair thought because if she missed him when he was away for a month and a half, how would she miss him if he was gone forever?
She'd move on. It's not like Monika to remain stagnant.
Tech shakes his head, looking at her fingers as they remain frozen and hovering over the keys. ]
I want...
[ Hesitation. He swallows. ]
I want to go back to Hellburbia. I keep thinking -- Barbas is here. He's somewhere in this mansion. We could make it happen again.
[ It's a dangerous thought -- even more dangerous to say aloud to someone who might agree with this desperate impulse. After all, Monika chose to escape back into the bliss when she was rescued -- walked into it willingly. Tech understood it back then, but he understands it even more now. What good is free will if at the end of it, there's only suffering? He'd give it all up all over again just to taste happiness. ]
[ Monika watches. Waits. There's a small chasm between them, but he feels closer than ever.
And then he says the last thing she ever could've expected.
Her fingers suddenly shake so uncontrollably that she accidentally hits a few notes, soft but noticeable. She turns her head away, dropping her hands to her sides and gripping the bench. Every wound surrounding her time in Hellburbia with him, all those buried feelings that she thought she'd sealed up, even just barely, forcefully split open. Faintly, she hears a piece by Bach playing, then a fleeting marry me brushes past her ears from that distant place.
Bright green eyes turn back to him as she does her best to control her breathing. He's right. The thought is dangerous, more dangerous than ever. Even if she'd been building up a bright future, who wouldn't want to look back at a rosy past, one where she was so incredibly happy with a sweet, studious demon named Aindreas? ]
Do you think we actually could...?
[ The hand closest to him creeps in his direction, bit by bit, pushing past that barrier she still believes is there. Eventually, her skin brushes up against his thigh, a few fingers pressing into the fabric, hidden claws lightly poking through. It's as much as she dares to allow herself, even if it seems like a dangerous breach.
That touch feeds the imaginings that spring up. They could live the lives that got wrenched away from them. Learn about each other, go on dates, grow closer, get married. It'd be a fresh start. A true reboot.
And after learning what she did through the wasps... ]
It'd be nice to be free of knowing so much. Especially when it comes to humans.
[ Her brow tightens, then her hand retreats a small distance away, back into the space between them. She has to question that barrier, the one person that kept her in check. Monika's reasons were far from noble, because she'd have easily raised hell if it wouldn't have upset him into hating her forever. But he's offering her a deeply tempting kind of hope that doesn't make sense, because... ]
[ Her hand retreats, but it doesn't get far. His index finger touches her wrist followed by the rest of his fingers gently closing around it. He stares at it, touching her without feeling her -- without knowing her emotions. If he adjusts, he can feel her pulse point -- but it tells him little. Her heart could be racing from excitement or it could race from fear. Of course, she has little to fear from him now. He's powerless. Mortal, so long as the power null remains in place. ]
She's gone.
[ He says after a time and something bitter rises in him because he knows Monika will at least be somewhat happy about that -- have cause to celebrate his misery. He knows this because how many times has he wished Kaiba would disappear the same way? They're both two sides of the same jealous coin. ]
I don't know if this place will bring her back. I've never seen anyone who disappeared come back. They tried to tell me she redeemed out, but I know that's not true. She...she wouldn't have gone without me. We had a future...
[ He looks up into the distance as though he can see that future. But the only thing he can see is it disintegrating before his eyes. And so, Tech looks to the past. His eyes drop to her wrist in his hand, delicate and slender. Monika seems so fragile when stripped of her demonic attributes. Slowly, he releases her hand -- at least in terms of loosening his grip. She can pull her wrist away if she chooses or she can keep it there in his fingers that barely grace her skin. ]
I should probably go. Before something happens here that we regret...
[ The door had never been fully closed between them, but if they went ahead and ripped it open, how much baggage would tumble out? How would it complicate things for her relationships? How would it complicate things for him? Would all of the progress he made in his life and she in hers come tumbling down? His eyes land on her lips.
....or.
Or would it be better this time? Now that they've learned from their mistakes?
The problem is, Tech can't tell which thought is the devil and which is the angel on his shoulder. Both make sense.
But what he does know is right now she seems so beautifully human. And he just can't get over how beautiful her eyes are -- a vibrant shade of green, magnetic and gleaming. As Tech loses himself in them, he almost forgets about the change done to his own eyes. How Mammon altered them to be a brighter, glowing blue -- shifting and glittering with an internalized light. But as he remembers, he averts his gaze so that she doesn't have to see -- see the ugliness that finally made its way to him, the changes. Because one couldn't exist in this place for so long without it twisting them in some way.
It's just until now, none of it had been cosmetic for Tech. ]
[ Monika breathes in shakily at his touch. The lack of connection becomes even more apparent, but she's finding it hard to focus on that. He's touching her, much like he had when they were two young students, fumbling along in front of a piano. If there's any fear, it's because she's so afraid of how much she's willing to ruin--
Nothing. Ruin nothing. Her eyes widen at the news.
No Ava? It almost seems too good to be true. And yes, some part of her immediately feels a burst of joy at the thought of him being free, untethered...but it fizzles out quickly. How can she enjoy something that's clearly hurting him and will continue to hurt him? Her head lowers in shame for a moment. ]
She could come back. I've talked to people who've gone and come back before. So...
[ Maybe he'll like that hope? Or will it make things worse? Either way, she doesn't want him to think she's going to throw a party over this. Because why would he want--
Her head comes back up, blinking at his light hold on her wrist then up at his face. Something they'd regret? Her heart somehow manages to beat faster, then faster still when she notices him looking in the direction of her lips. Again, she sees glimpses of the past they had, not just in Hellburbia, but also before that. The proposal. The villa. A quiet, dark movie theater...
How funny. She's been waiting for this moment for over a year. Praying for it, dreaming of it, and now that it's seemingly here, she hardly knows what to do. That same past that she spent so long learning and growing from is telling her that some caution was desperately needed. Since when had impulsion done her any good? What if what was already ruined was completely destroyed?
He stares into her eyes and she stares back until he averts them. Without thinking, she reaches up and places a hand on his cheek, turning his face back to hers. She wants to see every bit of that glowing blue. It's a new connection when they've been disconnected for so terribly long. He'd been there for her, at first, when she started changing. He'd tried to help. And eventually they fell apart because of all the changing and lying and--
He's here. He's here with her. Her wrist slides away, briefly parting from him before she takes hold of his hand. ]
I understand if you want to go.
[ She says, as she's saying the opposite with her actions. Would things be better this time? Had they learned from their mistakes?
The chasm between them closes as the bench creaks and she moves in closer. Then, before she knows it, she's drawn him in for a kiss. No more waiting. No more holding back. As always, regrets can come later. ]
[ It's probably not right. And Tech can't even say it feels right when her lips land on his. But right isn't what he's searching for. He's drowning and she is the one keeping him afloat -- allowing him a few gulps of air. He breathes her in and unfurls into her -- his hand going around to support the small of her back. The kiss is familiar, not quite like coming home, but familiar like a childhood love -- someone he'd grown up with and had nostalgia for before they drifted apart. A first love. Someone who shaped all others to follow. Someone his thoughts would always return to and compare to others. Someone he would never get over, no matter how hard he tried. And Ava had known that, hadn't she? She always suspected, always made the occasional comment or needed reassurance. Ava knew. Now she's gone and this is the first thing he does.
What a piece of shit he is down to his core.
His free hand gently cradles the edge of her jaw, thumb skimming along the angle of it -- taking a moment to refamiliarize himself with the curve before it trails lower, down along her neck and then dipping into the collar of her dress. The journey continues along her clavicle and ends right at the beginning swell of her breast. As soon as he feels the heat of her skin, any hope to dial it back vanishes. A primal urge takes over and he wants her. No. Want isn't the right word. He needs her. He's still drowning and she's his air.
The hand at her back, once gentle, now turns insistent -- pulling her onto his lap. And his kiss, once explorative, turns to fire -- tongue seeking hers. Tasting, yearning, claiming. Do they even need foreplay? He's more than ready for her. The hand at her breast slips free to find its way beneath her skirt so he can push her undergarments aside (if she's even wearing them) and dip his finger inside her heat. He gasps as though he can feel her pleasure himself, even without their connection. He can't. But his own arousal burns as though he can and that's enough. That's enough.
But it's not enough.
They need to be one. And they need to be one now. ]
[ This isn't what she expected. Sure, maybe he'd kiss back for a split second, indulge her for just a moment, but then he'd push her away and admonish her for being her typical self. Better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission, right? It'd have been worth it for what she figured would be the only taste of his lips and of him she'd get for the foreseeable future. Because how horrible is she to do this so soon after hearing his heart was probably breaking?
And then she finds herself on his lap.
Her unseen tail instinctively wraps around his waist, because she's so sure she's going to fall from not just the sudden change in position, but from shock. She spends her time recovering breathing heavily into their kiss, her entire body immediately starting to shake. It's been almost exactly a year since she's been this terribly close to him, the circumstances similar but also entirely different. Here they are again, whisked away to an island, forced together by unfortunate circumstances. The world's on fire around them, but they're not fighting for their lives. They aren't so full of resentment and bitterness and hopelessness, and so many things have changed. So many more complications. So many more things that should hold them back.
Her tail releases him and she grasps his cheeks, falling deeper into his fiery kiss. Again, no regrets.
She's ready. So ready. Her body was worked up from the moment she saw him, mostly from a totally unrelated kind of tension, but as she's found, it doesn't take much for that worked up feeling to shift into something more intimate. Because no matter how terrible it makes her, she's definitely never stopped dreaming of this, yearning for him, to taste him, claim him. Their lips break apart for a moment so she can moan a soft Oh, Zeus against his mouth, her hips rocking and pressing into his touch. If she hadn't been so bereft of him for so long, it might not have hit so hard, especially without the usual connection they have. She's been without that feedback long enough to forget what she's missed in general, though, so it's easy enough to focus solely on the want. The need.
Her claws rake down his silky top, moving between them to rip into her underwear and toss the ravaged fabric aside. She almost does the same to get his clothing out of the way and pull his cock free, but she's much gentler with him under all of her burning desire to bring them closer to being one again--after spending eons being two lost ships, always passing by, never on the same route.
Her slick folds slide over his finger and length all at once, and she quakes harder, clutching his shoulders and pressing a softer, trembling kiss to his lips. She'd love to ease him inside completely and not waste another second, but just like last year, she wants to be sure. ]
We don't have to...
[ But she wants to. Does she ever. She whimpers as she presses in closer, insistent. What reason is there to worry for this time? It's so easy to forget all those reasons when she's so close to having him. Who and what circumstances are around to stop them this time? Even if God stepped into the room right now, she wouldn't stop. ]
[ Tech lets go and gives into sensation -- even sensation he can't trust. It very distinctly feels like something's wrapped around him but he can't make out what and he cares very little to figure it out. He spent an entire month feeling things he couldn't trust, he could deal with it here when it's not bringing him physical pain. He'd rather believe his eyes -- that she is every bit as human in appearance because recalling her demon parts would have made him hesitate. Remembering she has a tail now would make him recoil. It might have given him enough pause to escape when she gives him an out. Because this is definitely something that shouldn't happen -- a door that should remain closed. Perhaps for her sake more than even his. Because she's finally moved on. She found a relationship that suited her better. He's not a part of that picture.
But fuck thinking about things logically. Fuck thinking about the future. Fuck being selfless and considering what was best for others. Or even being selfish and considering what was best for him. He's turned on. She's turned on. This would chase the pain away and in the absence of drugs he needs the escape for as long as it would last.
So he shakes his head and dismisses her words and that's all he gives of an answer -- finding her lips again to kiss her with feverish desire. Equal parts the love they once shared, the hate they once shared, and the love in between that never stopped. And there's also a part of Aindreas, who....although would have preferred to wait for marriage, cannot deny his want for the demon girl he had so easily fallen in love with. In many ways, this feels like the first time all over again. Is he going to be enough for her or will she need the pain?
Only one way to find out.
Tech angles himself and drives up into her heat, gasping against her mouth. How is it something so familiar should feel entirely new? How is it even though his digitized mind would never allow him to truly forget something, he seemed to have forgotten how absolutely exquisite she felt? And this, in the absence of their connection, is the only thing that feels right. The only way they can be complete.
Tech takes just a moment to savor this feeling of being buried deep within her, her heat practically scorching. God, how easy it would be to climax from this alone. But he holds himself back because he needs to prolong this. As long as possible. He needs to escape clarity of mind for as long as he can. Minutes. Hours. He finds himself hoping some of hell's magic can kick in -- some of the aphrodisiacs lingering around to chase away any refractory periods. So he can fuck and fuck and fuck her for as long as they both could stand to make up for the months apart. Even though hell has done him no favors thus far, please give him this. ]
[ Her cry echoes throughout, quickly dampened by the acoustics of the room, but probably still leaking out into the hallway. Not that she cares. Every hope, dream, prayer has just come true. Zeus stepped down from Mount Olympus, forgot about Hera, and he wants her. Just her. How could she think of any other relationship right now? ]
I-I do, I do...god, yes, I do....
[ Thoughts of last year are clearly on her mind as she clutches him like he's the only means of salvation in this godforsaken place, her hips immediately bouncing to draw that heat up and down over his cock. The relief is nigh palpable in many ways. Just like last year, he wanted this, too.
He wanted this, too.
The realization's so intoxicating she comes barely minutes later, and she stops moving, save strongly shaking against him, creating a new chorus of noise. Who needs pain when everything she's ever needed is there beneath her, buried inside of her?
After riding through that flood of pleasure, she continues on at the same frantic pace she'd set before. Her lips crash against his, again and again, once she's gotten enough--barely enough--air back into her lungs. It's unfocused and wild, just as her hips's movements. He wants her. He wants her.
Her memories shift away from their time in the hut, from moments of pain and hurt, and to better places. To soft piano music, to being tangled up together in a pool, in some quiet baths. Together in his room, her room, so many other places. She thinks of the first moment she knew she loved him, though it was still such a nascent, budding feeling, as confusing as it was amazing, of when they'd escaped certain punishment after leaving the chaos of the movie theater. I love you, too. Forever, she'd said, so caught up in those amazing feelings of new love, a soft bed of flowers that had yet to weather the harshness of winter. Barbas's limits had brought them together to share that special moment.
Then, again, Barbas's power did it, in a different time, a different place. Their love blossomed anew, shaking off the frost. Aindreas proved how connected they were meant to be.
Monika Brewer couldn't be more thrilled. ]
Fate slew him, but...he did not drop.
[ As she nears her second orgasm already, she murmurs the opening line of that poem that's sprung to mind against his cheek, because kissing is too difficult to keep focused on. An indulgence. A reminder. An encouragement.
No matter what Hell seemed to throw at them, what she threw at him, he remained. He survived. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
time for an island adventure
Today, she's chosen a poem she came across while going through all the books she'd brought with her. Hopefully it'd mask how worried sick she was, because it'd been over a month. What if he'd gotten sent back to the burning hell they left behind? What if he was left there, broken and alone, suffering the wrath of another unforgiving god? What if--no. She'll choose to hope. It's all she can do. So off her message goes:
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
With that done, she moves on to another impulsive distraction, finding herself in one of the rooms full of instruments, supposedly lying in wait for the twins's amusement. After placing down the sheet music and sitting on the piano's bench, she takes a moment to stare at her normal hands, down at the tail no one else can see wrapped around her, scar after scar no longer there. The glamor's been disturbing her as much as it's brought relief. Who is she anymore, now that she appears just as she should?
Shaking her head at herself, she opens the book, turning to a selection she'd heard and wanted to learn. One last fleeting glance at her hands, then she experimentally begins to play. Because just like those messages, having music helped her feel like he was there next to her. Like they were still connected.
Everything she did, it was all for him. Somehow, he'd find his way back to her again. ]
no subject
But once the anger burned itself to dust as anger often did, he found himself numb. Despondent. Seeking something to feel something again. Right now, it's the call of music -- music that isn't forcing some feeling on him, whether that's calm or amorous as seems to be the main theme of the mansion. Tech wanders the hall to investigate before coming across her room. And when he appears in the doorway -- what he sees almost takes his breath away.
It is recognizably Monika, but in a way he hadn't seen her for a very long time. Without the horns or a tail or clawed fingers. She's just a girl and Tech feels like he's stepping in the villa again -- walking in on the ivory piano. Just Monika and her little white dress. When he walks over the threshold, dressed in fine silks from Mammon's land (because he hadn't packed enough of his own clothes and now probably lost them all to the fires) -- it's like stepping into the past. Love lost but also love remembered. A first love and all of its excitement, thrill and newness.
With tunnel vision, Tech doesn't see anything but Monika and as a result knocks into a stand. A book falls from it with a dull thud, dust bursting from the leather bound cover. Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus. Ironic, it being Aeschylus. Even more ironic it being about Prometheus -- the god Tech sometimes wished he was. A god who could so selflessly gift fire to the humans and suffer endlessly for it. He had the suffering down to a science. Just not the selflessness. Tech stoops to pick up the play and right it on the stand. ]
Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. That's a new piece. Did you learn it here?
no subject
It's him.
Monika's frozen in renewed shock for what seems to be eons but is only a few seconds in reality. It's him. He made it back. He's safe, he's whole, he's here. His words don't even register. She's on her feet, pushing away from the piano so quickly she crushes a few keys in the process. A few tumbles and stumbles and forgetting how her feet even work, then she crashes into him, the meeting of their bodies pushing out the sob that was trapped inside of her. ]
You made it. Y-You made it back...
[ She clutches him hard, doing her best to be mindful of her claws, but it's a struggle not to squeeze him with every bit of strength she has. This continues for a while before she realizes he might not be in the best shape for getting handled so roughly--among other reasons that she shouldn't do such a thing--so she abruptly pulls away, forcing her hands to her sides. It's obvious she wants to reach out again, though, from the way she keeps grasping at her dress, trying to keep her hands in check. ]
S-Sorry. I didn't mean-- [ They didn't mean to do anything, it seems. She shakes her head then averts her gaze, quickly wiping her cheeks. ] Sorry. Um. Yeah...
[ What did he ask again? She can't remember. All she can think, over and over, is that he's here he's here he's here. ]
no subject
Before he can sink in and get lost in Monika, though, she steps back abruptly -- minding some invisible barrier between them that doesn't really exist anymore. He's free. She's always been free -- in terms of following the whims of her emotions, at least. Maybe there's freedom together? Or at least an escape...
Tech shakes his head slowly at her apology, dismissing it without words. His eyes veer past her toward the piano. Probably another thing his mind couldn't conquer. Like all the games he was once an expert at playing. Now he's reduced to slightly better than a novice. What is he without all of the world's information at his disposal? Certainly nothing worthy of Monika. ]
I should have told you I was back sooner. I just...needed the darkness to recover. I'm not so sure I even recovered, though. Don't know if I'll ever recover.
[ But he trails off -- keeps the self-pity to a minimum. No one wants to hear someone drone on and on about how hopeless everything is. Tech moves past Monika to the piano, tapping the highest key. It squeaks out a sound and Tech moves his hand back as though burned. Just as suspected. He doesn't recall a single piece he'd once played. There's no connection to himself, no muscle memory. Not with this awful combination of what Mammon did to him and the power nullification Lucifer has in place. ]
You should keep playing. It's not like we have anywhere to be. The car reached it's pit stop, but there's not a person waiting for either of us. We can stay here as long as you want.
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[ As he heads to the piano, she glances at the book he'd knocked over, holding her arms to hold in the lingering feel of him there. Once the feeling fades, her eyebrows lift and her fingers reach out to run over the cover. Definitely not one she's read before, but the name...Prometheus. The Titan that gave man fire. Changed the trajectory of humankind forever. The chance to thrive and grow...
The high note rings out, and she startles, gaze jerking his way. It pulls her from her thoughts and back to the god standing before her, looking lost and despondent. Her hand curls away from the book, a hand she vaguely realizes isn't tingling with the remnants of their usual connection, and it comes to a rest over her chest. An ache pulls at her heart to see him like this, but then-- ]
The car...?
[ After a bit of filtering through her memories, which still feels so dull and slow after experiencing just how fast her mind could actually work, she then remembers--the poem she sent him off with. Her heart thumps harder. Is she reading too much into what he's saying?
Swallowing hard, she joins him at the piano, retaking her spot on the bench. Her fingers shake a bit as they settle back onto the keys, but she doesn't resume playing just yet. ]
The song. To answer your question, I heard a demon playing it. They said it's from, you know. [ She nods upward. ] I thought it was pretty. They transcibed it themselves, apparently.
[ A short silence follows as she glances his way. ]
I'm glad we can share some music together again. [ She hesitates, but the words spill out anyway. ] I missed you.
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Does the ache come from yearning or does it come from loss? Does it come from nostalgia or does it come from grief?
He glances over at her after her comment about missing him. Tech chews on his guilt, his jaw tensing. Because the first thought he has after she says that is that he wishes he wasn't here. He wishes he could go into a void and be nothing -- a myth of a god that doesn't exist. And that's an unfair thought because if she missed him when he was away for a month and a half, how would she miss him if he was gone forever?
She'd move on. It's not like Monika to remain stagnant.
Tech shakes his head, looking at her fingers as they remain frozen and hovering over the keys. ]
I want...
[ Hesitation. He swallows. ]
I want to go back to Hellburbia. I keep thinking -- Barbas is here. He's somewhere in this mansion. We could make it happen again.
[ It's a dangerous thought -- even more dangerous to say aloud to someone who might agree with this desperate impulse. After all, Monika chose to escape back into the bliss when she was rescued -- walked into it willingly. Tech understood it back then, but he understands it even more now. What good is free will if at the end of it, there's only suffering? He'd give it all up all over again just to taste happiness. ]
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And then he says the last thing she ever could've expected.
Her fingers suddenly shake so uncontrollably that she accidentally hits a few notes, soft but noticeable. She turns her head away, dropping her hands to her sides and gripping the bench. Every wound surrounding her time in Hellburbia with him, all those buried feelings that she thought she'd sealed up, even just barely, forcefully split open. Faintly, she hears a piece by Bach playing, then a fleeting marry me brushes past her ears from that distant place.
Bright green eyes turn back to him as she does her best to control her breathing. He's right. The thought is dangerous, more dangerous than ever. Even if she'd been building up a bright future, who wouldn't want to look back at a rosy past, one where she was so incredibly happy with a sweet, studious demon named Aindreas? ]
Do you think we actually could...?
[ The hand closest to him creeps in his direction, bit by bit, pushing past that barrier she still believes is there. Eventually, her skin brushes up against his thigh, a few fingers pressing into the fabric, hidden claws lightly poking through. It's as much as she dares to allow herself, even if it seems like a dangerous breach.
That touch feeds the imaginings that spring up. They could live the lives that got wrenched away from them. Learn about each other, go on dates, grow closer, get married. It'd be a fresh start. A true reboot.
And after learning what she did through the wasps... ]
It'd be nice to be free of knowing so much. Especially when it comes to humans.
[ Her brow tightens, then her hand retreats a small distance away, back into the space between them. She has to question that barrier, the one person that kept her in check. Monika's reasons were far from noble, because she'd have easily raised hell if it wouldn't have upset him into hating her forever. But he's offering her a deeply tempting kind of hope that doesn't make sense, because... ]
But what about Ava?
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She's gone.
[ He says after a time and something bitter rises in him because he knows Monika will at least be somewhat happy about that -- have cause to celebrate his misery. He knows this because how many times has he wished Kaiba would disappear the same way? They're both two sides of the same jealous coin. ]
I don't know if this place will bring her back. I've never seen anyone who disappeared come back. They tried to tell me she redeemed out, but I know that's not true. She...she wouldn't have gone without me. We had a future...
[ He looks up into the distance as though he can see that future. But the only thing he can see is it disintegrating before his eyes. And so, Tech looks to the past. His eyes drop to her wrist in his hand, delicate and slender. Monika seems so fragile when stripped of her demonic attributes. Slowly, he releases her hand -- at least in terms of loosening his grip. She can pull her wrist away if she chooses or she can keep it there in his fingers that barely grace her skin. ]
I should probably go. Before something happens here that we regret...
[ The door had never been fully closed between them, but if they went ahead and ripped it open, how much baggage would tumble out? How would it complicate things for her relationships? How would it complicate things for him? Would all of the progress he made in his life and she in hers come tumbling down? His eyes land on her lips.
....or.
Or would it be better this time? Now that they've learned from their mistakes?
The problem is, Tech can't tell which thought is the devil and which is the angel on his shoulder. Both make sense.
But what he does know is right now she seems so beautifully human. And he just can't get over how beautiful her eyes are -- a vibrant shade of green, magnetic and gleaming. As Tech loses himself in them, he almost forgets about the change done to his own eyes. How Mammon altered them to be a brighter, glowing blue -- shifting and glittering with an internalized light. But as he remembers, he averts his gaze so that she doesn't have to see -- see the ugliness that finally made its way to him, the changes. Because one couldn't exist in this place for so long without it twisting them in some way.
It's just until now, none of it had been cosmetic for Tech. ]
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Nothing. Ruin nothing. Her eyes widen at the news.
No Ava? It almost seems too good to be true. And yes, some part of her immediately feels a burst of joy at the thought of him being free, untethered...but it fizzles out quickly. How can she enjoy something that's clearly hurting him and will continue to hurt him? Her head lowers in shame for a moment. ]
She could come back. I've talked to people who've gone and come back before. So...
[ Maybe he'll like that hope? Or will it make things worse? Either way, she doesn't want him to think she's going to throw a party over this. Because why would he want--
Her head comes back up, blinking at his light hold on her wrist then up at his face. Something they'd regret? Her heart somehow manages to beat faster, then faster still when she notices him looking in the direction of her lips. Again, she sees glimpses of the past they had, not just in Hellburbia, but also before that. The proposal. The villa. A quiet, dark movie theater...
How funny. She's been waiting for this moment for over a year. Praying for it, dreaming of it, and now that it's seemingly here, she hardly knows what to do. That same past that she spent so long learning and growing from is telling her that some caution was desperately needed. Since when had impulsion done her any good? What if what was already ruined was completely destroyed?
He stares into her eyes and she stares back until he averts them. Without thinking, she reaches up and places a hand on his cheek, turning his face back to hers. She wants to see every bit of that glowing blue. It's a new connection when they've been disconnected for so terribly long. He'd been there for her, at first, when she started changing. He'd tried to help. And eventually they fell apart because of all the changing and lying and--
He's here. He's here with her. Her wrist slides away, briefly parting from him before she takes hold of his hand. ]
I understand if you want to go.
[ She says, as she's saying the opposite with her actions. Would things be better this time? Had they learned from their mistakes?
The chasm between them closes as the bench creaks and she moves in closer. Then, before she knows it, she's drawn him in for a kiss. No more waiting. No more holding back. As always, regrets can come later. ]
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What a piece of shit he is down to his core.
His free hand gently cradles the edge of her jaw, thumb skimming along the angle of it -- taking a moment to refamiliarize himself with the curve before it trails lower, down along her neck and then dipping into the collar of her dress. The journey continues along her clavicle and ends right at the beginning swell of her breast. As soon as he feels the heat of her skin, any hope to dial it back vanishes. A primal urge takes over and he wants her. No. Want isn't the right word. He needs her. He's still drowning and she's his air.
The hand at her back, once gentle, now turns insistent -- pulling her onto his lap. And his kiss, once explorative, turns to fire -- tongue seeking hers. Tasting, yearning, claiming. Do they even need foreplay? He's more than ready for her. The hand at her breast slips free to find its way beneath her skirt so he can push her undergarments aside (if she's even wearing them) and dip his finger inside her heat. He gasps as though he can feel her pleasure himself, even without their connection. He can't. But his own arousal burns as though he can and that's enough. That's enough.
But it's not enough.
They need to be one. And they need to be one now. ]
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And then she finds herself on his lap.
Her unseen tail instinctively wraps around his waist, because she's so sure she's going to fall from not just the sudden change in position, but from shock. She spends her time recovering breathing heavily into their kiss, her entire body immediately starting to shake. It's been almost exactly a year since she's been this terribly close to him, the circumstances similar but also entirely different. Here they are again, whisked away to an island, forced together by unfortunate circumstances. The world's on fire around them, but they're not fighting for their lives. They aren't so full of resentment and bitterness and hopelessness, and so many things have changed. So many more complications. So many more things that should hold them back.
Her tail releases him and she grasps his cheeks, falling deeper into his fiery kiss. Again, no regrets.
She's ready. So ready. Her body was worked up from the moment she saw him, mostly from a totally unrelated kind of tension, but as she's found, it doesn't take much for that worked up feeling to shift into something more intimate. Because no matter how terrible it makes her, she's definitely never stopped dreaming of this, yearning for him, to taste him, claim him. Their lips break apart for a moment so she can moan a soft Oh, Zeus against his mouth, her hips rocking and pressing into his touch. If she hadn't been so bereft of him for so long, it might not have hit so hard, especially without the usual connection they have. She's been without that feedback long enough to forget what she's missed in general, though, so it's easy enough to focus solely on the want. The need.
Her claws rake down his silky top, moving between them to rip into her underwear and toss the ravaged fabric aside. She almost does the same to get his clothing out of the way and pull his cock free, but she's much gentler with him under all of her burning desire to bring them closer to being one again--after spending eons being two lost ships, always passing by, never on the same route.
Her slick folds slide over his finger and length all at once, and she quakes harder, clutching his shoulders and pressing a softer, trembling kiss to his lips. She'd love to ease him inside completely and not waste another second, but just like last year, she wants to be sure. ]
We don't have to...
[ But she wants to. Does she ever. She whimpers as she presses in closer, insistent. What reason is there to worry for this time? It's so easy to forget all those reasons when she's so close to having him. Who and what circumstances are around to stop them this time? Even if God stepped into the room right now, she wouldn't stop. ]
I-I understand. If you want to go.
[ But he doesn't want to go, does he? ]
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But fuck thinking about things logically. Fuck thinking about the future. Fuck being selfless and considering what was best for others. Or even being selfish and considering what was best for him. He's turned on. She's turned on. This would chase the pain away and in the absence of drugs he needs the escape for as long as it would last.
So he shakes his head and dismisses her words and that's all he gives of an answer -- finding her lips again to kiss her with feverish desire. Equal parts the love they once shared, the hate they once shared, and the love in between that never stopped. And there's also a part of Aindreas, who....although would have preferred to wait for marriage, cannot deny his want for the demon girl he had so easily fallen in love with. In many ways, this feels like the first time all over again. Is he going to be enough for her or will she need the pain?
Only one way to find out.
Tech angles himself and drives up into her heat, gasping against her mouth. How is it something so familiar should feel entirely new? How is it even though his digitized mind would never allow him to truly forget something, he seemed to have forgotten how absolutely exquisite she felt? And this, in the absence of their connection, is the only thing that feels right. The only way they can be complete.
Tech takes just a moment to savor this feeling of being buried deep within her, her heat practically scorching. God, how easy it would be to climax from this alone. But he holds himself back because he needs to prolong this. As long as possible. He needs to escape clarity of mind for as long as he can. Minutes. Hours. He finds himself hoping some of hell's magic can kick in -- some of the aphrodisiacs lingering around to chase away any refractory periods. So he can fuck and fuck and fuck her for as long as they both could stand to make up for the months apart. Even though hell has done him no favors thus far, please give him this. ]
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I-I do, I do...god, yes, I do....
[ Thoughts of last year are clearly on her mind as she clutches him like he's the only means of salvation in this godforsaken place, her hips immediately bouncing to draw that heat up and down over his cock. The relief is nigh palpable in many ways. Just like last year, he wanted this, too.
He wanted this, too.
The realization's so intoxicating she comes barely minutes later, and she stops moving, save strongly shaking against him, creating a new chorus of noise. Who needs pain when everything she's ever needed is there beneath her, buried inside of her?
After riding through that flood of pleasure, she continues on at the same frantic pace she'd set before. Her lips crash against his, again and again, once she's gotten enough--barely enough--air back into her lungs. It's unfocused and wild, just as her hips's movements. He wants her. He wants her.
Her memories shift away from their time in the hut, from moments of pain and hurt, and to better places. To soft piano music, to being tangled up together in a pool, in some quiet baths. Together in his room, her room, so many other places. She thinks of the first moment she knew she loved him, though it was still such a nascent, budding feeling, as confusing as it was amazing, of when they'd escaped certain punishment after leaving the chaos of the movie theater. I love you, too. Forever, she'd said, so caught up in those amazing feelings of new love, a soft bed of flowers that had yet to weather the harshness of winter. Barbas's limits had brought them together to share that special moment.
Then, again, Barbas's power did it, in a different time, a different place. Their love blossomed anew, shaking off the frost. Aindreas proved how connected they were meant to be.
Monika Brewer couldn't be more thrilled. ]
Fate slew him, but...he did not drop.
[ As she nears her second orgasm already, she murmurs the opening line of that poem that's sprung to mind against his cheek, because kissing is too difficult to keep focused on. An indulgence. A reminder. An encouragement.
No matter what Hell seemed to throw at them, what she threw at him, he remained. He survived. ]