Smoking for the aesthetic - Avery Grey
I know, I've used this song like 3 times now 🧎
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He sighs, his head dipped out his bedroom window but despite trying to use the chilly morning wind as ventilation it only serves to blow the scorching smoke against his face.
His red hair flutters against his face, the sunrise hues making his ethereal beauty all the more breathtaking.
He inhales through the filter in his mouth, the vile, acidic taste of cigar smoke boiling his lungs.
Even so, it's comforting.
The drowsy numbness is so familiar, yet it's a new experience to have it envelop him so fully in this different body.
He holds onto it a bit too long, exhaling shakily and coughing due to burn.
He thinks back to his previous life, his lonely world.
The taste of ash and the temptation of poison used to be the only joy he could bring himself.
It started as a bad decision when he was young, to an addiction he would forever crave.
It's been months since he's last had one
The start of his transmigration was spent going cold turkey on alcohol and dealing with the withdrawal, and after was time spent planning for upcoming wars and protecting those close to him.
Only now, with Barrow dead, can he rest freely.
So why is he falling back on old habits?
He doesn't feel particularly stressed.... Yet..
it was tempting, when he realized there were the cigarettes that he held onto oh so dearly in previous life in this fantasy world as well.
This isn't any good, he knows his family will find out. They wouldn't want him to do this.
But he needs it.
He needs it because it's his lifeline, it saved him as a child and it saves him now. Well, it wouldn't be fair to say the cigarettes saved him, more like the man who offered them saved him.
If that man never gave him one- showed him an alternative to the self destructive pain he would inflict upon himself- he would be dead.
Cale sighs and pulls his thoughts away from the past. He shouldn't get dragged back into it. Nothing good ever comes out of that.
He lets his mind wander to what led him to their moment.
Maybe he's lying when he says nothing truly stressed him out...
Even now, the memory brings a spike of fear in his heart. It was just... A matter of being tired. It's hard remembering he's Cale. He tries not to, but sometimes it's easy to forget who he is now.
And no one but a few of his family know who he was before.
He's unsure as to how he's supposed to feel about his name. Some days he doesn't feel like he's controlling his body. Just an entity watching himself going through the motions of life.
Other days he feels too much, as if he's a bodysnatcher who has no right to talk to others, like he's wearing a mask of someone else's face.
Today is one of the former days.
Cale taps his cigar against the window still, watching the ash fall down below. The flame having been blown out due to the brittle wind and delayed use.
This window gives him... Deja vu, almost. He can help but bring up memories of.... the wind island test.
His heart hammers in his rib cage, he can't help but feel horribly aware of his children's piggy banks being situated behind him. Yet, instead of dwelling on his fears, he forcefully tampers down his emotions. This isn't something worth crying over. He can.... sort out how he feels on a later date.
Cale presses the half finished cigarette stub on the window still. It's bad to litter, but he doesn't bat an eye as he throws it over the edge.
He lays his arms crossed and puts his head down in between. The smell of repugnant ash far too strong but barely enough to tickle his senses.
He lets cool air rush over him, the morning's light is gone now, replaced by a bright sky.
He's sure his kids will soon come to keep him company.
He should clean up, for them. This is not something kids should be exposed to, after all. Look how he turned out.
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Tcf Brainrot collection
FanfictionShort. Comment au's you'd like written about, no matter how long. Descriptions of each au posted at the start of the chapter.
