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bittermuire · 3 years

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A (long) analysis of Azriel,

+ a bit of discussion about Gwynriel vs. Elriel at the end.

Lately I’ve seen much discussion surrounding Azriel, and there seems to be a lot of hazy gray area. We know he has a terrible past, carries a lot of trauma, is both mentally and physically scarred, and has disturbingly possessive habits. But why? That’s the question.

I think most of Azriel’s character can be filtered into three sections: his anger, his possessiveness, and his self-loathing. Altogether I believe these form his crippling sense of emotional immaturity, which ultimately shines through most every action he makes in the books.

So yes, I firmly believe Az is a child in the body of a 500 year old Fae. But is he treated as such? No. No, he is not. In fact, he’s treated as the exact opposite, and that can’t be doing wonders for his mental health (which is already in shambles. Off to a cheery start.)

Let’s take a look at his past. He was both mentally and physically abused for the majority of his childhood. Then he was thrown into an unforgiving culture that both mentally and physically abused him as well. Then he was essentially bullied by Cassian and Rhysand for quite a while... until they randomly decided to like him, which is a choice he didn’t seem to play a hand in. And then he became a professional torturer. All the while falling madly in love and becoming obsessed with a female who can’t love him back. Not to mention he’s been ostracized his entire life.

(One big thing though, that I’m going to reference frequently, is Azriel’s constant chase of “happiness.” Kind of like my friends with ADHD. We squeeze all the serotonin we can get out of one thing and then fall into a listless, depressed haze until we find another. I honestly think Azriel does the same thing with people--he latches onto them and lets his mood swings rely on how much attention they do or do not pay him, and whether it is positive or negative.)

So I’m going to go through his relationships with pivotal characters and try to explain what I think is really going on with Azriel.

Regarding Mor:

He was obsessed with her for most of his life. He was incredibly possessive of her and fell instantly in love upon seeing her. Do I think it was love? No. But does Azriel think it was love? Yes, and that is so important. It shows how desperate he was for human connection.

This “love” spiraled into centuries-long obsession that we’ve all seen play out throughout the series. But why is it obsession, and not love? Well, I’m going to go ahead and say that Azriel doesn’t know how to love. He’s never been shown genuine love and so he doesn’t know how to show it to others in the way he intends. He’s basically a baby.

But right after he falls head over heels, Mor sleeps with Cassian, and then Cassian plays the role of the buffer between the two of them all the way up until the events of ACOSF. This is where I think Azriel’s anger comes into play. He can’t get to Mor. His best friend, his brother, is blocking him from her. He can’t touch her, love her, feel her, and he’s so desperate to. But he literally has no way to communicate it because he doesn’t know how, and so he responds in the one way he’s able: anger. And jealousy. And intense protectiveness that eventually begins to translate as possessiveness.

Again, he lets his happiness rely on Mor because he can’t make himself happy, and so his lack of emotional maturity ends up revealing him as desperate and unable to communicate his feelings of inadequacy and frustration. I’m not trying to justify his behavior, not at all. But I think this could be a decent explanation.

Regarding Cassian and Rhysand:

I mean... I kind of hate the way these two have treated Azriel. They all have their fair share of trauma, but Cassian and Rhys also bullied him and ostracized him, and then basically said, “Oh, we like you now.” Which completely leaves Azriel in the dark as to where he stands with them, and strips him of awareness regarding how his friendships with them will operate.

And then he becomes the head of espionage for the Night Court, which involves lots and lots of torture. What kind of message does that send? You’ve seen dirty things, Az, so you don’t mind doing the rest of the dirty things for us, right? That’s the only real message I can get from this. Which then plants the message in Azriel’s head of: Not only do I do dirty things, I myself am a dirty, disgusting thing. Thus, furthering his already deep-seated sense of self-loathing.

Plus, the IC generally operates with a pack-like mindset. One person’s method of healing is everyone’s method of healing. It worked for one person, so it worked for everyone. It’s a very naive mindset, and very toxic as well, so it’s not surprising that literally everyone in the IC is colossally messed up despite preaching themselves as having overcome their demons.

So Azriel never really gets to understand himself and mature as a person. He’s stuck pretending to be perfectly fine underneath Rhysand’s oh-so-benevolent and compassionate hand. Rhysand and Cassian recognize Az as being a little... odd, by seeming to think things like “he’s the quiet one” and “he’s the serious, scary one.” But do they attempt to understand him? No. They leave him to his own devices and let him figure it out himself.

That’s the issue. He’s not ever going to figure it out himself, so long as he’s surrounded by the people who’ve been unwittingly suffocating him for most of his life.

Regarding Elain:

Azriel’s infatuation with Elain, in my opinion, comes as a direct result of his detachment from Mor. Just like one hyperfixation fades quickly from an all-consuming thing to a passing thought, Azriel has shifted from one obsession to the next, in order to keep his spirits on a high.

But I think his feelings for Elain reveal a lot of what Mor did not. Why does he view Elain as so holy compared to him? Why is he so hesitant to touch her? Why does he put her on such a pedestal? That’s his self-loathing coming through again. He hates himself so much that he has to place her above him.

He wants to touch her and love her, just as he did with Mor, but again he is unable. It's a repeating pattern that he can’t get himself out of.

Let’s also look at the way Elain and Azriel’s friendship/relationship began. He had to take care of her, and treat her with utmost respect. She looked at his scars or his siphons, both monstrous looking things, and called them beautiful. Let’s remember that he’s basically a child who’s rarely known genuine love. The minute he gets a glimpse of it, he’s going to grab it by the neck and crush it to his chest. Plus, the fact that she’s the last sister left unattached and he’s the last brother left unattached is probably even more convincing for him that he and Elain are meant for each other. When he’s denied this love that’s come nearly close enough to grab, he responds in the only way he’s able: anger. And jealousy. Just like he did with Mor.

But moving on, that glimpse of potential love comes from Elain. That’s why he’s able to let go of Mor; a relationship with Elain suddenly becomes possible. He’s terrified of ruining this potential love and is incredibly drawn to her all the same. Best of all? She wants him too.

BUT. Azriel knows how fragile Elain is, so he walks on glass around her, coddling her, putting her first like he’s put everyone else first since being a part of the IC. I think he wants to save her from becoming like him. He essentially plays the role of her white knight, entirely losing his sense of self-preservation (not that he ever had one), and thus loses any chance of letting Elain help him mature in return.

Regarding Gwyn:

Now, Gwyn is a different story.

We know Azriel likes her. Maybe not in a consciously romantic way, but he likes her. She makes him smile and laugh, and he finds her amusing. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around her.

The big thing, I think, is that he doesn’t have to take care of her. At least, I think that’s what makes him so comfortable around her. With Gwyn, he can relax, and he doesn’t have to watch every move he makes. She treats him like a regular person and he treats her similarly.

Now, is it a bad thing that he doesn’t put her on a saint-like pedestal like he does Elain? No. Definitely not. I think this ordinary friendship signals a much healthier relationship than his festering obsession with Elain. Gwyn simply being his friend and not someone that he feels he has to be perfect for is a good foundation for Azriel growing as a person.

Gwynriel vs. Elriel (the necklace):

Honestly, I’m scared for whatever SJM decides to do, because Azriel has a shitload of trauma to move past and years worth of emotional growth needed before he can be a steady partner in a relationship. Both Gwyn and Elain’s character arcs are definitely not finished and so I think that no matter which way his narrative goes, it’s going to be disappointing in some aspect or another, unfortunately. I don’t think that either one of the females’ arcs really fit well with Azriel’s.

But I’m going to take a closer look at the necklace, because I think it’s a telling narrative point.

For Azriel, the necklace for Elain and Gwyn herself, are both “thing[s] of secret, lovely beauty” to him.

By describing the necklace for Elain as such (instead of Elain herself), Azriel unconsciously reveals his more idealistic view of Elain rather than his love for Elain herself. I kind of get the sense of Azriel giving offerings to a goddess, or something like that. He seems to be more preoccupied with appeasing Elain than actually loving her.

Now, this probably comes from, again, his self-loathing and his emotional immaturity. I’m just repeating myself at this point. He doesn’t know how to love himself and he doesn’t know how to love anyone else.

But then he describes Gwyn as such. Gwyn, the person. In my opinion, this demonstrates a potentially much healthier relationship than what he has with Elain. Azriel, instead of wanting to be perfect for Gwyn and wanting to appease her, is simply made happy by the thought of her. It is Gwyn whom he is taken with, not the idea of Gwyn loving him. And so that takes off so much pressure for him, and introduces the hope that he might be able to mature as a person in a friendship or romantic relationship with Gwyn.

Closing thoughts:

Azriel is a blundering, hormonal child desperate for love with no idea of how to get it, in a 500 year old Fae’s body. He’s also surrounded by people who refuse to address his clear issues... his future’s pretty dim, and I think he realizes it. Which is why whoever SJM chooses to be his romantic interest is going to be very important.

In short, I’m scared for what’s to come. But fingers crossed that his incredibly complex character is done justice.

#azriel #acotar #character analysis #gwynriel #kind of anti elriel #but open to interpretation

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years

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Companions React: Finding An Abandoned Child

Request: Hi, I really love your writing! Could you maybe do companions react to finding a crying child hiding in like a car or an abandoned building?

TW: Child abandonment, trauma, PTSD in some characters, themes of child neglect and abuse

The Scenario: Sole and their companion are travelling through the wasteland, looking to collect scrap for the latest project. They were on high alert, of course, considering it was the wasteland, guns drawn by their hips as they crept forward into another abandoned building. It seemed to be relatively untouched, which was promising. That is, until the companion rounded a corner to head into one of the nearby doorways, and was met with the sight of a small child silently weeping in the corner. Alone.

Cait:

The image of that child alone, covered in grime, their face coated in tears, is forever seared into her mind from that moment on

She wasn’t allowed to cry much as a child, it was considered whining, but if there was one scene that could represent how she felt her entire childhood, it was that

She was rushing forward before she could even think about it, almost failing to consider how frightening that may be to the child

Luckily, she remembered shortly after her impulsive actions, and slowed down, kneeling a few feet away

“Do you need help?”

As soon as she can coax the child into trusting her and letting her pick them up to get them out of there safely, she struggles to let go

Even when Sole’s trying to check the child for injuries, she has to fight herself internally to let go of them

After a long talk with Sole, that child becomes priority in her life; sometimes the people who’ll mean the most to you find you in confusing ways

Curie:

She doesn’t think much about the possibility of accidentally frightening the child

She’s already in front of them and checking them over to make sure they don’t have any life threatening wounds

If she accidentally scares the crap out of the kid, she realizes her mistake and backtracks

Kind of forgets that Sole exists at that point until it’s time to carefully pick the child up and get them out of the building; they’re the designated body guard

Once they’re back at Sanctuary she confers with Sole on how to make the child most comfortable

They discuss whether or not it would be better for the kid to stay with them, or in Sanctuary in general, or to look for suitable adopters; their decision relies on where Curie’s at in figuring out herself and where Sole’s at in the main story (if Sole is canon-compliant)

Danse:

There’s supposed to be a protocol for similar situations according to the Brotherhood

He has a moment of weakness, seeing a child so helpless like that

He gets hit with anger, surprisingly; he tries his best to remain detached, and he’d like to think he’s pretty damn good at it, but the idea that someone could abandon their child like that?

He suppresses it long enough to have Sole carefully approach and check the kid over (he knows his armor isn’t exactly the most relaxing sight)

He’s somewhat silent on the way back to the Prydwen

Handing them over to the medical staff is difficult for him and he needs to take a moment, but at the same time struggles to leave the child

He asks Sole to stay with them so they have a somewhat familiar face and steps outside for a moment

Pulls some strings to get them adopted onto the Prydwen: he tries to keep a semi-detached relationship moving forward but definitely has some bias towards the child as they grow up in the Brotherhood and checks in on them

Deacon:

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time this has happened; he’s travelled for most of his life, and hiding out in abandoned locations was part of that

Child abandonment is more common than other people would like to believe, so he’s gotten used to sorting things out, and honestly, it’s not all that different from his work in the Railroad

Regardless, he’s had practice

He approaches slowly and quietly, but talks so that the kid is aware of where he is

He walks them through what he’s doing as he checks for any obvious injuries, asks a few questions if they’re verbal and not completely dissociated, and wipes their tears

Asks Sole for any sort of blanket or spare shirt they may have and wraps the child in it for comfort before asking to pick them up

Any conversation about the kid is done out of earshot- it’s not exactly comforting to hear strangers discuss how messed up you and your situation is

Instead he has Sole stay alert as he mindlessly tells lighthearted stories for the child to listen to if they can hear

Once they get back to Railroad HQ he stays nearby, tells jokes, can provide signing if they’re deaf, makes sure they give consent to every part of being treated, gets them some food, etc

Needs a moment once he’s told that they’ve found somewhere for the kid to go

One of the rare times he gives Sole a hug without prompting

Gage:

Has no clue what to do or what’s going on

Makes Sole approach the kid; “What if it’s a tiny feral ghoul?” “Gage, you’re an idiot”

Keeps his distance for the most part unless Sole asks him for help

He will pass the child some food or water, silently, in order to try and bond or something

Very much uninvolved in the process as long as Sole has things covered, but he does get extremely vocal in the fact that the child needs to go to a good home

Haylen:

Uncertain in how to approach, but once Sole tells her what they plan to do, she’s willing to help

Asks a few questions about why they’re there and what happened to them, but if she’s not getting answers, she knows to back off and focus on what might be going on physically

Once they’re both sure the child has no injuries and can be moved, Haylen uses cloth they collected to fashion a sort of back-carrier; the most practical thing is for both of Sole’s arms to be free for protection

Has a long chat with Sole about what to do once they get back to the Prydwen and briefs the medical staff, but after that, she lets Sole take over

She knows that spending more time with the child means she’ll get attached and that’s the worst thing she could do to either of them

Will ask about what type of home/community the child went to after they’re gone and feel reassured once Sole explains

Sometimes she randomly thinks of them and reserves a moment to send them her best wishes, but other than that, tries not to care

Hancock:

His heart absolutely shatters, but he knows that approaching may make things worse; after all, they’ve probably run into feral ghouls depending on how long they’ve been on their own, and his appearance won’t help their distress

Instead, he sends Sole forward to check up on them and build some repertoire

Sole has to have a small chat with them about how they know that there’s bad ghouls, but there’s also very nice ghouls, and that Hancock is the nicest ghoul they’ll meet

If the kid freaks out once they spot him he feels sick to his stomach, but if they don’t, he’s relieved

Has Sole carry them just in case the child changes their mind and freaks out after calming down, but will talk to them

Doesn’t really want to bring them back to Goodneighbor, but if that’s the closer option, that’s where they go instead of Sanctuary

Either way, he finds himself extremely attached already, and once the child receives medical attention, he’s bending over backwards to get them whatever they want food, drink, and comfort wise

Once the kid falls asleep, he sits Sole down to talk; (if they’re close) do they think they could co-parent?

Really doesn’t want to let the child go to another home; he’s seen the shittiest of shitty of the wasteland, and doesn’t trust anyone else to raise the child right, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he’d be a good parent

If Sole reassures him and is willing to take on the job, the pair adopt the child. If not, they bring the child home to Sanctuary and discuss with different settlers there whether or not they’d be willing to take on a child

The Longs get first offer

MacCready:

While emotionally he’s destroyed by the sight, he knows how to deal with the situation

He’s a natural with children after Duncan, and so it’s easy for him to approach calmly with plenty of warning and go through the process of making sure the child isn’t fatally wounded before getting permission to move them

Asks some basic questions, if the child isn’t mute, and tells some stories about Dogmeat and the silly things he does

(If Duncan isn’t healthy and he and Sole are just friends) Mac knows that having to part with the child is going to break his heart the moment he sees them, but he can’t take on another kid with the way his life is; it wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved

(If Duncan is healthy, has been moved to Sanctuary, and he and Sole are either best friends or partners and co-parenting) He waits until they’ve gotten the kid settled and talks to Sole about whether or not they have the mental, physical, literal, etc resources to take on another child

If they agree he’s ecstatic, considering the child won’t have to go to another set of strangers before finding somewhere safe

Brings Duncan in on the conversation and explains what’s going on and asks his opinion

Nick:

Like Hancock, despite the fact that he’d like to help right away, he knows that his appearance can be frightening to those who aren’t used to it

Instead, he tells Sole to go first and approaches afterwards

Whether he’s consciously aware of it or not, he tries to keep his face out of the child’s line of sight to avoid frightening them

Once they’re on the move he’s already gotten in a debate with himself on whether or not he’s willing to put on his Detective hat and look for the child’s parents

Of course, it could be a misunderstanding, and they could’ve gotten split up during an attack or something

But at the same time there’s a visceral anger in him that someone would let their child end up like this; it’s not rational, he knows, especially since it could be an accident, but he can’t really help it

He knows where he could place the child already if Sole and he aren’t in a place to handle the responsibility (and it takes a long while into their friendship/relationship for him to even think about co parenting) due to the many families he’s met during his work

Piper:

She thinks with her heart and not her head, so she’s already scooping up the child before it even registers in her that that may be a bad idea

Panicked, trying to soothe the kid as she’s shooting Sole a frantic expression of what the hell

Has no idea what to do, really, and looks to Sole to help her out

Once they’re on their way to somewhere safe she discusses the fact that (unless she and Sole have moved to Sanctuary and are past the main questline) they probably can’t take on a child

They’re consistently travelling due to her work, Sole’s fighting their battles, etc

If they’ve settled, they already have both Shaun and Nat to worry about, so she’s not quite sure how another child will work in their lives

But if they do decide to take on the responsibility, the decision is made when she goes to get food for the child back in Sanctuary and finds them fast asleep against Sole’s chest

Something about that image seals the deal for her and she knows she and Sole need to have a long talk

Preston:

Unfortunately, like Deacon, this isn’t quite an uncommon sight for him

He approaches and talks his way into trust with practiced ease that’s quite telling of how things go in the wasteland

He’s picked them up and is already on his way out by the time Sole registers what they may want to do about the situation

It’s not really a question to him that the child’s coming back to Sanctuary; he knows that someone will take them in, even if he specifically can’t

He’s had enough field training (and practice) that he knows how to check for injuries and treat some basic ones, so that’s done swiftly and as painlessly as possible

X6-88(Institute):

Doesn’t really see the point in getting involved, but if Sole wants to do something about it, then he doesn’t protest; after all, he’s there to protect them, no matter what antics they get up to, no matter how unadvisable

He keeps his distance and pays no mind to what they’re doing with the child, he’s simply there to keep guard

Wants no part in the matter

X6-88(Post-Institute):

Really isn’t sure what to do at all

He lets Sole approach first and takes cues from them; their cautious body language, quiet voice, etc

Pretty much just follows their lead the entire time due to his uncertainty of the situation, but he adapts eventually

Offers them water pretty much right away because he knows how threatening dehydration can be especially since they’ve been crying

No matter how much he may want it, he doesn’t bring up the idea of him and Sole co-parenting first; they would have to say something first for him to discuss the idea

He is one of the most protective when it comes to finding a family for the child, if that’s what he and Sole decide to do, though

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where-theres-smoak-2 · 3 years

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The Bonesmith, Baghra and Aleksander

So here’s the next instalment of I noticed something interesting during my rewatch of S&B that nobody else likely cares about but well I’m sharing it with you all anyway. Also there are some book spoilers in here so tread careful if you haven't read them and don’t want to be spoilt.

So whilst rewatching ep 3 I caught onto something the Apparat said that I thought was kind of interesting about the Bonesmith, something that I think can tell us alot about Aleksander and Baghra’s relationship but also Baghra’s motivations for separating darklina in episode 5.

Anyone who has read the books will know that the Bonesmith is actually Ilya Morozova who is Aleksander’s grandfather. He was one of the first grisha and a very powerful fabrikator who created the amplifiers. What I thought was interesting was that the Apparat explains why the Bonesmith created the amplifiers in the first place which I don’t believe this is explained in the books but correct me if I am wrong as I am only half way through the third book. The apparat says ‘He (the bonesmith) knew that the grisha would always be prosecuted and so he worked on a plan to magnify their power.’ This obviously suggests that Ilya Morozova saw the grisha’s suffering and wanted to do something about it, in fact he becomes obsessed with it, with creating the amplifiers. I can’t help but wonder if this is why Aleksander is so convinced that its Morozova’s amplifiers that will help make grisha safe. Why he is so obsessed with them and finding them because he knows that protecting the grisha is exactly what they were made for in the first place.

It could also explain why Baghra is so against Aleksander finding them and his obsession with them, also why she is so against Aleksander wanting to help the grisha and why she has much more of a just leave them to it you’re more important anyway, kind of attitude about the grisha’s plight. Her father’s obsession with the amplifiers is what lead to Baghra feeling so isolated in her childhood and also what lead to her family being torn apart. Baghra’s story is just as tragic as Aleksander’s and has some eerie similarities. She grew up feeling ignored and neglected by both her parents, her father was too obsessed with creating the amplifiers to pay his family much attention and her mother was so afraid of Baghra’s powers that she kept her distance and paid alot more attention to Baghra’s younger sister. Until one day her sister broke one of her toys and in anger and jealousy Baghra lashed out with the cut and killed her sister. Her father was able to use his fabrikator abilities and merzost to bring her sister back from the dead. The villagers upon seeing this miracle decided to chain up her father and sister and throw them both into the river to drown. Baghra and her mother flee but her mother was too traumatised by the events to keep going and in the end Baghra abandons her in the woods out of desperation to survive and finds her way to a farm. The people there took her in and put out a search party for her mother but they never found her and it is assumed she starved to death in the woods. Even with her feeling neglected by her family this is still a very traumatic thing for Baghra to go through and it all happens when she is a young girl. Unfortunately I do believe she passed her trauma onto her son and in the end she ends up becoming the neglectful parent herself and makes her son feel as isolated and alone as she did growing up. Also don’t know how relevant it is but both Aleksander and Baghra used the cut for the first time as a child and in both instances it was against another child/ children which you know tragic, just loads of tragedy in the lives of the Morozovas.

I really do think that alot of the reason why Baghra acts against Aleksander so much in his pursuit of saving the grisha is because of her experiences with her father. In episode 7 when Aleksander talks about using merzost to create an army to protect the grisha from the old king just like Morozova used merzost to create, Baghra tells him he’ll die just like Morozova did. This is obviously something she fears. If you look at it from her perspective at this time she was watching her son being hunted by the king, a king who wanted her son dead because he was afraid of how powerful Aleksander’s powers were. This is very similar to what happened to her father, the people feared his power and they killed him for it. In R&R she tells Alina ‘Ravka was different then. Grisha had no sanctuary. Power like ours ended in fates like my father’s.’ Whilst Baghra was often cold towards Aleksander I do think she loves him and he is the most important thing to her so seeing her son seeming to follow in her father’s footsteps terrifies her and so she decides to do everything in her power to stop him.

However this just drives a wedge further between them. Protecting grisha is something that Aleksander cares deeply about. Whilst Aleksander might be the most important thing to Baghra, the grisha are the most important to Aleks. And Aleksander believes two things, that the answer to protecting the grisha lies in Morozova’s amplifiers and Alina. They together are the key. I do find it very interesting that Morozova’s and Aleksander’s goals were very similar, they both want to make things better for the Grisha. They both also become obsessed with this goal and the amplifiers as a solution. Aleksander has that added level of obsession with the sun summoner, maybe he believes this was the missing piece to the amplifiers, the amplifiers have been created and now they need someone to wear them, the sun summoner. I think Aleksander sees him being the one to find the amplifiers and along with the sun summoner using them to protect the grisha as a way of completing his grandfather’s work. Also its worth noting that Aleksander never knew his grandfather who died before he was born and he also never knew his own father, his mother never even tells Aleks his father’s name the only thing that is known about him is that he was a powerful heartrender. From reading Demon in the Woods its obvious that Aleks feels this void of his absent father. He never really has a father figure in his life. Back then sons would often following in their father’s footsteps, would go into their father’s trade, inherit their farm, or blacksmith shop etc. Those same trades were likely the trades of those boys’ grandfathers as well and so those boys grow up to continue on the family legacy. But Aleks has no trade or skill to inherit because he has no father. That is until he learns of his grandfather's plans. I think Aleksander sees his search for the amplifiers and making sure they are used for what they were intended to be used for as him kind of going into the family trade. Its a weak link but it is still a link to a male family figure and that makes him feel more like the other boys he grows up around. As isolated as he is from them, as different as he is from them, in this way he is the same because he too is continuing his family’s legacy. Also slight side note here but another thing I noticed that I thought was quite telling is that there are two grisha that Aleks seems to respect and admire for their skills and who he kind of defends against others, Ivan and David. When he senses disdain from Alina towards Ivan he makes that joke about how he is actually quite funny when you get to know him, essentially defending him and it is obvious that Ivan is Aleksander’s righthand man and that Aleks has alot of respect for him. Also when David says he can track Alina using the ring, Aleks says he’s proving the many uses of a durast. More so in the books than the show but the other grisha do consider fabrikators to be somewhat useless and the weakest of the grisha a view that Aleksander doesn’t seem to share. What I find interesting about this is that the two grisha he seems to admire (outside of Alina obviously) are a heartrender and a fabrikator the two ‘trades’ of his father and grandfather.

But I also think Aleksander has some complicated feelings about his grandfather. I do think he admires Morozova but I think a little part of him also resents being his descendant. I said in my Darkling Analysis post that when Aleks was talking at the fountain about being the descendant of the most hated grisha in all of Ravka he might not have been outright lying to Alina. That he might have been talking about someone else not the black heretic (obviously because he is the black heretic). At the time I wrote that analysis I hadn’t read the books but now that I have I think I might have been on to something. I think in that moment he was talking about his grandfather who before the black heretic was the most hated and feared grisha in all of Ravka. It’s because of this and because of the nature of their powers that Baghra forces Aleks to hide his true identity to the point where he begins to worry he’ll forget his own name. I can well believe that as a boy he would run away and hide there and throw a coin to wish he could be anyone else, someone who wasn’t Ilya Morozova’s grandson, someone who didn’t need to hide all the time and could just be a normal boy.

Next I want to talk about episode 5 and Baghra’s motivations for separating Aleks and Alina. As I’ve mentioned above I really do think that Aleks believes Alina is the key to the amplifiers and that they were meant for her. I also think that Baghra knows this too. But I also think the books can give as another clue into her motivations. In S&S when Alina meets Baghra again Baghra is very angry with Alina because instead of running and getting on the ship Baghra organised for her, Alina went after the stag and got caught and collared. Obviously in the show it happens slightly different and the thing that Alina does differently is running on her own instead of waiting in the store room for others like Baghra told her too, but its still the same idea of Alina not following Baghra’s plan. But the reason why she is angry is because she feels like because of Alina he has lost his humanity. In the books Baghra explains her actions by saying:

Baghra pounded the floor with her stick. “I wanted to keep him from becoming a monster! It’s too late for that now, isn’t it? Thanks to you, he is further from human than he’s ever been. He’s long past any redemption.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But Ravka isn’t beyond saving.”

“What do I care what happens to this wretched country? Is the world so very fine that you think it worth saving?”

Baghra’s goal was to stop her son from becoming a monster and I again think this stems from what the villagers did to her father and just the attitude others, including other grisha, have had towards her and her son because of their powers. The villagers saw her father as a monster because of the power he possessed and how he was able to bring his child back from the dead. Pretty much everyone saw her and her son as monsters because of their powers, including Baghra’s own mother. I do think because of her trauma she has come to associate being a monster with their powers or having alot of power. Also the passage above shows that she doesn’t really care about Ravka so that’s not what is driving her. I think she has been let down and mistreated so many times by the people of Ravka, both otkazat'sya and grisha alike, that she has the attitude of they never helped me so why should I want to save them. I think her experiences have made her very angry at the world and so she doesn’t think it is worth saving. So in episode 5 when she says that they cannot let Aleksander obtain that kind of power I don’t think its because she is worried what it will mean for the world. It’s because she fears two things, one that if he obtains that power people will become more afraid of him and want to kill him like the old king did in the past and like the villagers did with her father. The other fear is the one she talks about above, she’s afraid he’ll become a monster and that he will lose his humanity. I think she fears this because on some level she feels like that’s what happened to her. That she became so detached and angry at the world that she stopped caring about anything but Aleksander. I mean she has done some monstrous things in her life, for example in Demon in the Woods she helps slaughter an entire village of innocent people including woman and children because she wants to protect her son. I think she knows how good intentions can lead you down a dark path and she doesn’t want that to happen to her son. Ironically I would actually argue that its her interference in separating Alina and Aleks that helps push him down that path.

We know that Baghra thinks its Alina that is pushing Aleks further from humanity and I can’t help but wonder why she would think this. I mean in my opinion Alina is what pulls him back to his humanity and I’m pretty sure this is book canon too. I haven’t read it but I’ve seen this quote from ROW going around “Why did you go to her?" Because with her he was human again.’ I think the reason why Baghra thinks Alina will push Aleks away from his humanity partly stems back to this idea Aleks has of using the sun summoner and the amplifiers together to expand the fold in an attempt to keep grisha safe. I think she fears that Aleks will keep doing more and more monstrous things in an attempt to reach his goal because she knows that teaching him that he was the most important and the only one that matters and by teaching him to stay isolated and separated by society she has made him less caring, less empathetic and therefore less human. She also knows that Aleks believes the sun summoner is the key so she thinks without Alina he can’t go through with his plans and so she attempts to remove Alina from the equation by convincing her to run.

Obviously Baghra’s version of how and why the fold was created is very different than what happened and I think the reason why is because she knows that Alina cares about Aleks and so in order to convince her to leave him she decides to try and scare her in to it. If she tells Alina that Aleks accidently created the fold whilst grieving for his lost love and trying to protect his people who are being hunted and killed and now he wants to expand the fold because he thinks that will scare their enemies into not killing and torturing grisha, well it might not be enough to get Alina to leave. Alina might decide that Aleks’ aim is a sympathetic one and that there is still enough humanity in him to try and save him. Instead she tells Alina that her son is a power hungry monster who created the fold for his own gain, who is going to enslave her and expand the fold, who doesn’t care about Alina at all and who has spent an eternity manipulating girls to his scandalous whims and dark desires. The image she paints of Aleksander is much more frightening and plays into all of Alina’s fears and insecurities. Look I really hated that Baghra did this but I also think it is important to remember that Baghra really does believe that she is protecting and saving her son. I don’t think she’s doing it out of maliciousness or because she wants her son to fail and doesn’t want him to be happy. She just believes because of her own experiences that if he continues the path he’s is taking then the world will turn against him again and he’ll be brutally killed. She knows that Alina is a powerful weapon and so to her the logical step in preventing her son from going down this path is to take Alina away from him.

As to whether Baghra knew how much Aleks cared about Alina before she intervened, I’m not sure. I’m in two minds on it to be honest because a part of me thinks she was really convincing when she told Alina that Aleks was manipulating her and had done so with other woman in the past, which makes me think maybe she really did think Aleks was just manipulating Alina and was only interested in her for her power. But then on the other hand during their conversation in episode 5 when Aleksander says that Alina is all that matters now and that she is the one, Baghra doesn’t seem surprised by this which would suggest that she knows that Aleks’ feelings run deeper. I will say that even if she did know that Aleks cared deeply for Alina, I mean personally I think it was pretty obvious that by the time of the winter fete he’s head over heels in love with her, it wouldn’t have mattered a great deal in regards to her plan. In fact I think it might even have made her even more determined to separate them and I think this is because of Luda. As mentioned above Baghra fears her son will lose his humanity and become a monster. Aleks loved Luda very much and it was losing her that was the catalyst, or part of it, that lead to the creation of the fold. Therefore I think Baghra would consider Aleks loving anyone a danger. It’s all very good and well her son knowing the delights of love but what if he loses that person? What monstrous thing will he create next? Baghra has always believed that keeping her son isolated and hidden is what will keep him safe which is why she tells him to run and hide and get a new name in the flashback in episode 7. Just as protecting the grisha is what drives Aleks, protecting Aleksander is what drives Baghra.

So yeah that’s my I've thought waay too much into this analysis of the Morozova family and its effect on why darklina were torn asunder. At least until the next instalment of ooh that’s interesting I never spotted that before.

#the darkling #baghra morozova #aleksander morozova #darklina

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olivemac · 3 years

Text

heartbeat | chapter four | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | mild angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence, smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | the romance tropes keep coming, angst, canon-typical violence, mild alcohol use, smut (m/f), 18+ ONLY

master list | AO3 link

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prev chapter

_____

The months pass slowly, and Kate is content to stay in the little bubble she and Bucky have built. She almost forgets she has to tell Steve about Bucky at some point. Almost.

She wakes one morning in early June with Bucky's arms tight around her. They've been sleeping together most nights, and they’ve both found it keeps their nightmares away. As she shifts her body to rise from the bed, his hold tightens. He buries his face in the curls at the nape of her neck.

“Bucky,” she whines, “let me go.”

He rolls her onto her back and hovers over her, peppering kisses over her face. When his lips finally meet hers, he sweeps his tongue into her mouth and tastes her. She pushes against his shoulders, and he relents, lifting from her.

“Bucky,” she laughs, “I have to pee.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, too, and she loves that rare sound.

"I'm going to shower and start the coffee," she says, slipping out of his grasp.

Bucky flops onto his back and enjoys the smell of Kate on the sheets around him, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. He’s content to lay like this all day, if only Kate would return to bed. Finally, he stretches, happily, and his hand hits an empty beer bottle he left on the nightstand the night before. The bottle tips and rolls beneath the bed, and Bucky groans. He climbs out of bed and slips his boxers on before kneeling on the floor and reaching for it. As his hand wraps around the rogue bottle and pulls back, he feels something sticking out from under the bed frame. When he draws it out, he can see that it’s a file.

He opens it, and his heart stops. The Winter Soldier. His military photo is staring back at him, along with records of who he was, what they made him do.

A cold rage tears through him. He's been so stupid. He let her get close and now she would turn him over to HYDRA.

The bathroom door opens, and Kate steps out, dressed in clean sweats, her damp hair curling down her back.

"Who are you?" he growls.

Kate sees the open file and the hard look in Bucky's eyes. She doesn’t answer.

"Who. Are. You?" He’s on her before he finishes the sentence, his titanium hand wrapping around her neck and slamming her against the wall. “Who do you work for? HYDRA?"

She shakes her head vehemently and tries to speak through his stranglehold. He loosens his grip.

"No," she says. “I know Steve Rogers."

"What?"

"Steve Rogers asked me to find you."

He drops his hand from her neck, and she gulps in air, her own hands reaching up to touch the tender flesh.

“I work for Stark Industries. My name is Katherine Stark. Two years ago, Steve asked for my help tracking you down. I hacked cameras around the globe and ran the footage through an advanced facial recognition software I designed. When I got a hit on you in Bucharest, I came to see if it was really you. I wanted to be sure before I told Steve.”

“Does he know where I am?” he questions.

“No.”

“You lied to me,” Bucky growls.

“I never lied…I….” She pauses. “It’s not like you were honest with me, Sergeant Barnes,” she digs.

Bucky’s jaw clenches.

"Are you going to tell Steve Rogers where I am?" he questions.

She hesitates, then says, "No."

He nods once, then grabs the rest of his clothes and leaves, slamming the door on his way out. Kate collapses to the floor, sobbing.

_____

Bucky paces in his own apartment. Stark. The name feels familiar, but he can’t place it, and he’s too angry to think straight. He loved Kate – loves her still, despite his anger and this betrayal. He clenches his titanium fist so tightly he can hear metal grinding on metal.

In her own flat, Kate allows herself to sob for a while before pushing herself off the floor. She’s ruined everything. She thinks about calling Steve, letting him swoop in to save the day. She imagines him confronting Bucky, talking sense into him, convincing him that she was only doing what she thought was best. But she knows that isn't true; she wasn't doing what was best, she was being selfish when she came to Bucharest. She thought she could save Bucky and now she's pushed him away. She knows Bucky will run, knows he'll disappear somewhere, and she'll never be able to find him again, but she can't bring herself to call Steve and admit her mistake. She doesn't want to tell him that she found Bucky and then absolutely ruined him.

_____

The day passes slowly. Bucky keeps pacing, angry but unsure what his next move should be, afraid Captain America will knock down his door any moment and he'll be forced to confront his past. And what of his past? He's been remembering more and more, writing everything down. With Kate, he feels like the Bucky he was before the war, before HYDRA, but he can't shake the feeling that the Winter Soldier is still lurking inside of him, so tangled up with who he is that he'll never escape the Soldat.

He thinks about the file Kate has and the photo of him stuck to the inside cover – twenty-six, eager to serve his country and prove himself, completely unaware of the horrors his future would hold, the things he would be made to do. He wonders what Kate saw when she looked at that photo. If she read the file then she knows who is really is, but she still let him get close to her; she still let him into her bed and fucked him every night. Bucky scrubs a hand over his face.

And if she knows Steve Rogers, then she also knows about his past – before HYDRA. He's knocking on her door before he can stop himself. When she opens it, he can see that she's been crying, but he can't let himself dwell on that.

“Tell me what you know about me," he says.

She stares at him for a moment before moving aside and letting him in. There's a suitcase on the floor – half-full – and a bottle of whisky on the kitchen table. She pours him a glass, then refills her own. They sit at her kitchen table.

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes," she starts, "Born March 10, 1917 in Brooklyn, New York. Father: George. Mother: Winnifred. Sister: Rebecca. Childhood best friend: Steve Rogers. Drafted in 1943. Expert marksman. Captured by HYDRA in '44. Rescued by Captain America. Completed missions with the Howling Commandos. 1945 presumed dead. Captured by the Soviets and used as a weapon by HYDRA. The Winter Soldier."

He knew all of this – bits and pieces of it, at least – but he's gutted by how much she knows, how much she didn't tell him.

"Why are you here?" he asks.

“Steve asked me to find you," she says. After a while she adds, "When my software identified you, here in the Bucharest, I was afraid of what Steve would do, afraid that if you ran again, it would break him. I thought if I could keep Steve in the dark, I could protect him."

"Are you and Steve...?" he trails off, licking his bottom lip.

"He's my friend. I care about him," she says, shaking her head. "But we're not...it's not like that."

"Why did you stay? Why not tell Steve where I am?" he asks.

Kate pauses. She takes a sip of whisky, sets her glass down, and looks him straight in his eyes. "Because I fell in love with you."

Bucky is quiet for a time. "After everything you know about me?" he finally asks.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Kate shrugs. "Because I got to know you – not as Steve's best friend or as Sergeant Barnes or as the Winter Soldier, but as you, just you. You're a good man, Bucky."

Bucky sets his own glass down and stands. Kate thinks he's going to leave, but instead he pulls her to her feet and wraps his arms around her.

"Say it again," he says, looking into her eyes.

"What?"

"That you love me."

Kate smiles. "I love you."

He doesn't say it back, not yet. He wants to, but first he wants to enjoy this moment. So, he presses his lips against hers and tries to convey everything he feels in one kiss.

_____

“What do you remember?” Kate asks.

They're lying naked in her bed, her head on his chest and his arms tight around her.

“Everything. Nothing. It comes back in flashes. The memories sometimes feel like they belong to someone else," he says. “I have nightmares. About the things I’ve done. But not when I'm with you."

She smiles. "I sleep better with you, too."

He turns his head to look down at her.

“I have this dream, sometimes, about the night my parents died. There’s a man standing outside the car window. He’s dressed in all black, but I can’t see his face. All I can see is his chest in a leather tactical jacket and then a flash of silver." She's quiet for a moment before she says, "I was three when it happened so it's not like it's a real memory, just some figment of my imagination to help cope with the trauma. At least, that's what my therapist said."

Bucky is quiet.

Stark. Howard Stark. The super soldier serum he stole. Siberia. The memory hits Bucky like a freight train.

The Winter Soldier stands beside the wreck of the Starks' car. Howard begs for help: "Help my wife, my daughter. Please. Help." The Soldier pulls him up by his hair and stares at his bloodied face. A look of recognition crosses Howard's face. "Sergeant Barnes?" he groans. The woman in the passenger seat is calling for her husband. The Soldier strikes the man in the head, smashing his skull open. He pulls him up and places him in the driver's seat, then walks around the side of the car. The woman is crying. The Soldier kills her, as well. As he pulls his hand away from her throat, he sees the child in the backseat of the car. He pauses. The order calls for no witnesses. She's staring at him, her eyes wide. He turns away.

Fuck, Bucky thinks. He needs to tell Kate the truth. But when he focuses on the soft rhythm of her heartbeat, he doesn't think he has it in her to break that heart. Not right now. He decides the truth can wait. He knows it's selfish, not telling her, but maybe he's always been a little selfish.

So, instead of telling her that he was there that night, that he killed her parents, he turns on his side to face her and traces his fingers over the bruises forming on her neck. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “It was a reasonable reaction.”

"No, it wasn't. I hurt you."

"Make it up to me," Kate says, and she reaches for him.

Bucky slides his hands from Kate's neck over her collarbone and breasts and down to her waist. He rolls them so he's hovering above her. He reaches back up to wrap a stray curl around his finger before letting it go, then presses his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Kate," he says.

She smiles. "I love you, too, Bucky."

Bucky groans as he slides inside of her. Kate's eyes fall shut, and he studies the look of bliss on her face.

"Look at me," he whispers, moving against her slowly.

When she does, she's caught in the depths of his eyes, his pupils blown wide, the smallest sliver of blue visible around black. "I love you," she says again.

Bucky pushes himself onto his knees and shifts Kate's hips upward. "Put your legs up," he says, reaching for her calves and placing her ankles on his shoulders. "Good girl," he murmurs, his hands sliding beneath her knees. Kate moans at the change in position. Bucky turns his head and kisses her right ankle, laving his tongue over the soft skin.

“Say my name, doll," he demands, reaching between them to stroke her.

“James,” she breathes.

He’s taken by the sound of his given name on her lips, and his hips stutter. "Fuck," he groans, and the tight coil of pleasure in his lower belly snaps. Bucky moves through it, keeps his fingers on Kate until she's coming, and then collapses next to her, sighing.

"I love you," he whispers. And he takes her hand in his and holds it over his own frantic heartbeat.

_____

When Kate wakes the next morning, Bucky is gone. There's a note on the nightstand in his neat script.

Gone to the market. Back soon, doll. Don't move.

She smiles and stretches. When she reaches for her phone, she sees a news alert that makes her heart stop: Winter Soldier wanted for UN Bombing in Vienna.

She texts Steve.

_____

next chapter

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes romance

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itstittycitybaby · 4 years

Text

Flirty (Lin Beifong x reader) Part 6

a/n: bro. im having to cram all my ideas and edit it. i have so many plans for these next couple of parts and im excited to write them. i want to say that this chapter has self harm in it along with some other heavy topics. idk if anyone actually reads author’s notes so there will be a trigger warning below. the self harm is caused from anxiety and an anxiety attack/anger moments. please be careful and if you are struggling with self harm, or struggling right now. i encourage you to reach out to someone because someone out there cares about you. as always be safe, ily guys

WARNINGS: ANXIETY ATTACKS, SELF HARM, PTSD/TRAUMA FLASHBACKS, CHILD ABUSE, DEPRECATING THOUGHTS

The room was dark and dingy. The cold air was freezing and the table you were cuffed to didn’t help your comfort either. Your wrists were sore from wiggling and shifting so much. The rawness in your throat from crying and screaming throbbed. You didn’t care if the guards heard you anymore. It’s not like they’d come back in here for hospitality. You were alone again. This was the thing you had to face by yourself.

“It always comes back to this with you doesn’t it?” Her harsh words played on repeat in your brain. The shadows in the dark giggled and whispered amongst themselves. You were frozen and trapped in that awful chair that dug into your ass. You were a victim to the dark’s cruel and twisted ways as its children mocked you with their laughter. This room was perfect for you.

Lin knew you hated the dark. She would hold you tightly and kiss your tears away when it got bad. Those memories used to bring warmth but now they plunged you further into the icy waters of your mind. It made you gasp for air and it forced you to cling tightly onto the past. You laughed and cried as you stayed, rotting in that interrogation room. Time felt endless from being alone in the dark. It always bothered you when there wasn’t a way to tell it.

You hissed in pain as your fingernails dug into your palms. They burned as you kept pressing them into your hands harshly. The red stinging pain filled your senses;the red became deeper as you refused to let go. You whimpered out into the cell, its echoes carrying out from the room and to anyone who passed by.

They weren’t totally cruel. A guard had come in with a lantern before the metal shields closed. They left it on the table without a word and left quietly. They were like a ghost and quiet enough to make you believe you had imagined it. The flame that flickered in the lantern barely did anything to keep the fear at bay. At least it was something, though.

It was eerily quiet. You couldn’t hear anything from outside. Inside held your wails and cries that fell on deaf ears. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and sobbing so hard. The soreness in your throat made you parched. There was no water for you to drink, so you sat there unmoving. Now, you just watched the flame lazily flicker and dance in its little casing.

You fingernails lifted from your palms. They stung like hell and burned so fucking bad. You felt hollow and empty. All the tears you had shed and the mourning you endured now left you with a hollow pit.

She was so angry with you. The tears in her eyes and her tone shook with betrayal as she spat venomous words that had cut into your heart. You didn’t know what to feel. Scared, angry, hurt, betrayed. Aiwei, the bastard, had the perfect alibi. Of course he’d use a traveler and pin it on them. Someone who hadn’t seen the Beifongs in so long, but still knew them. It was perfect.

No one believed you. Not Korra, not Mako, not Suyin. Not even Lin. Could you even blame them? It all fell into place. Aiwei is a bastard, but you’d give credit where it was due. The plan was fucking brilliant, he was brilliant.

The interrogation room reminded you of home. The coldness from your mother and the isolation you had faced due to not being the child they had wanted. Everything in your life was a fucking metaphor now. The metaphor always tracked back to your shitty childhood and your shitty life. The terror and the isolation was always the thing that came to comfort you in the end, with open arms. It was ironic;.the thing that had been killing you for the past thirty fucking years had finally caught up to you. Its embrace was all too familiar. The warmth it held welcomed you loving, but its thorns sunk into your skin eventually.

****

He was crying again. You could hear his wails through the thin walls of the hut. His sobs made you feel horrible, knowing all you could do was stand by the pot. Stir, stir, stir. The wooden spoon stirred the stew your mother asked you to make. Stir, stir, stir. She sat behind you on the floor, staring into the fire. Stir, stir, stir. The stew was red and its heat warmed your face. All you could focus on was the soft stirring of the wooden spoon and the smell. It was a very cold night tonight, so your mother kept the fire warm.

Your eyes stayed on the stew in front of you. Dee’s crying kept getting louder and louder. You felt helpless, trapped there in the kitchen as Dee kept crying. You were rooted to the spot; you knew better than to disobey. You were no good to your brother if you got hurt too. The leverage your mother and father held was strong. It was easy to manipulate and make a person compliant when you dangled what they cared about in front of them like a carrot.

Stir, stir, stir. It was done. “Mamma,” you called softly, “it’s finished.” She didn’t say anything. She kept peering into the fire, observing the flames flickering on the wood. She was alway entranced by fire, even though she’d seen it all her life.You set the spoon down on the counter softly. Your meek footsteps barely creaked on the floor. You stood a couple of feet away from her. Her back faced you stubbornly. “Mamma,” you called again, timidly. No answer. Slowly, you lowered your hand on her shoulder. Smack! You flinched, pulling your hand away. The skin reddened and it stung. “Don’t touch me!”

“Sorry ma,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice from cracking. She didn’t say anything but slowly rose up. Your hand was hot and inspecting it closely you realized it. Your mother had burned you. The edges of your vision became blurry until it was hard to see. Your throat tightened and you struggled to breathe.

Your mother paid you no mind. She grabbed three bowls out and began scooping them with stew. Dee’s sobs turned into whimpers. They played like a mantra in your head over and over. Your hand began to sting more and your throat started to hurt from the stone you were trying hard to swallow. Even as Dee’s whimpers became a crescendo again, all you could think about was stir, stir, stir.

****

You hit your head smack dab on the table. Must’ve fallen asleep. You looked around drowsily and focused on the on the sun’s raise peeking through the windows. It seemed to be early evening. The muscles in the back of your neck had become cramped along with your back. Your ass was numb from the stiff chair you were trapped to. You didn’t even wanna think about your wrists.

The ground rumbled beneath you. The table shook and the lantern rattled. You watched it nervously, praying to the spirits that it didn’t fall and break. After a few moments, the rumbling stopped.

The lantern sat dangerously on the edge of the table but everything else seemed fine. Ears straining, you held your breath and focused for any signs of life. Nothing. You sighed, looking down at your wrist.

The cuffs hid the cyan string bracelet you stubbornly kept on after all these years. Though you couldn’t see it, you knew it was there. It gave you hope. Someone out there still cared about you. Someone out there still loved you. Even if he had forgotten about you, the bracelet served a reminder. That someone at some point, had given you a chance.

***

The door slammed open. You shot your head up. The impact from the door echoed among the cold and dark room. You squinted into the room. The sunlight poured in, blinding you. You hissed, screwing your eyes shut.

“(Y/N?)”

Suyin.

Her face fell. You looked rough. It had been only a couple hours since you were taken in. She was filled with regret at your sullen eyes. The bags under them looked dark and heavy.

“You can get out now,” Suyin said softly. Two guards entered the room and the cuffs opened with a clack. You looked down at your wrists. Your eyes widened at the sight of them. They had angry red marks around them and they were sore. You hissed as you gently pressed your fingers on them and rubbed softly. “Why,” you whispered, voice croaking.

“Aiwei was the traitor.” Su’s eyes shimmered with remorse as she stood there. She glanced down at your wrists. “We should get you to a healer.” You shook your head stubbornly. Placing your hand on the table, you slowly got up. Your ass burned from being forced to sit for so long. Your joints felt like they were on fire, and your feet wobbled as you made you way towards her.

“Please,” Suyin asked. “You must be in so much pain right now.” She had always been stubborn, just like her sister. “Maybe,” you whispered. Her eyes flashed with worry at your sullen expression. The rawness in your voice worried her.

You had hoped Lin had come instead. It hurt all the more knowing she didn’t come instead of Su. You hoped, stupidly, she’d sweep you in her arms and apologize profusely while kissing your face all over. But she didn’t. She left you in that room to rot. Lin had to have found out by now that Aiwei was the traitor. So why didn’t she come for you yourself? I’m just not special, you thought bitterly. She’s gone just like everyone else. She’s done with me.

“I’m so sorry,” Suyin muttered as the two of you left the interrogation room. She refused to leave you alone until you made it to your rooms. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “It’s fine,” you rasped. Su shook her head. “No it’s not and you know that.”

You didn’t say anything. There was nothing left to say. You grabbed her hand and gently squeezed. Suyin lifted her up head, shocked. You didn’t know why you did it. It could have been the isolation that had gnawed into your brain and made you needy. Or, if you tried hard enough, Suyin wasn’t there. In your mind it was Lin standing beside you instead.

****

Your room was torn to shreds. Several plans for new gadgets and tweaks on your weapons were now destroyed. Smashed parts from new projects glinted on the floor. Suyin wanted to stay and help but you shooed her away. You wanted to be alone while you picked up the pieces. You didn’t want nobody to witness you as you fell. Most people came back to a warm loving family after being away. You got to come home to a ruined and smashed room, with a bitter reminder of all your hard work being spilled down the drain in a matter of seconds.

You swallowed the tears in your eyes and scanned your destroyed room once more. You felt nothing more than a husk. The silence rung in your ears. Your breathing was roaring compared to the quiet.

Azure and Ruby were still missing. The space with their birdcage and food were gone. It made that part of the room was bland and empty. “Assholes,” you ground out bitterly. “Had to go so far as to stealing my fucking birds too.” You threw your turtle neck off forcefully, flinging it against the wall along with your trousers. The draws slammed open from the force of your anger. You pulled out a black tank top and pajama pants. The joints in your bones burned as you tugged your clothes on. They felt comfortable and loose on your skin. It made you sigh with relief and give you some sense of comfort. You trembled as you inspected your room. Your eyes flitted across the damaged state and the tears came rushing back. The fury that had been curling around your heart was threatening to let loose. Let go, a voice whispered. Just let me go.

Knock knock. “Can’t I just be alone for five fucking minutes?” You stomped over to the door, turning the handle. You wanted to be alone so no one would have to see it. See the breakdown and the fall you haven’t had in a long time. The thing that was keeping you together was threatening to snap. You were going to slip from the rope that dangled in the sky and crash into the ground.

Your heart stopped. She stood there with Azure and Ruby in their cage. It all came rushing back. The dark room, the disgust, the hatred in her eyes, and you never really meant anything to me.

“Lin,” you muttered thickly. “What a surprise.” You looked down to Azure and Ruby. They were sleeping soundly in the cage they hated. Anytime you had to put them in there they squwaked and pecked you into you bled. Lin’s hands had little scratches and marks on her hands. You shoved the guilt down and replaced it with something easier to feel. Pettiness, smugness.

“Can I come in?” Her voice was strained. She tried so hard to focus on keeping eye contact with you. Lin didn’t want to cry on your doorstep and have the whole world see what was about to occur. You were silent for a few moments. She deserved to have the door slammed in her face and to be told to fuck off. She had left you cuffed to a table for two hours and refused to listen to anything you had to say. Most of all, Lin told you she didn’t love you anymore.

She waited patiently. It all felt so weird, like a dream or a film. What if this wasn’t real? What if you were still cuffed to that table and had fallen asleep again. You wanted to yell at her, or scream at her for leaving you there broken hearted. You hated that deep down, you wanted Lin to hold you and tell you everything was alright. You hated how easy it was to crawl back to her like some fucking sick puppy.

You swallowed harshly. There were tears in your eyes and you nodded. It was slow and sluggish from the way you had jutted your chin out. You left the door way and moved so she could come in. Lin followed after you, closing the door with a soft click. The quiet clinking of her armor pounded in your head. It was the only thing you could focus or you’d drown in the tension that crackled in the air.

Lin set Azure and Ruby on the table gently. They didn’t stir from their sleep, making them look more peaceful. Her green eyes swept over the destroyed room. They followed to the turned over books and sheets, to the paper that had been ripped onto the floor. Lin saw the red and raw marks across your wrists. She felt awful looking at the state of your room but seeing you hurt because of her? Lin didn’t know what to feel.

It was silent for a bit. The both of you waiting for the other to say something. Lin was awful with confrontation and apologizing. You used to be patient with her. Your eyes would be soft as you waited for her words. Now, they were cold and hollow, peering into her soul. You were tired of waiting; you wanted this to be over with.

“You have some balls Beifong,” you said, chuckling. There was no humor or lightness to it. It was the calm before the storm. Before it all blew over and went to hell.

She gulped. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her voice had cracked slightly. There were tears in her beautiful green eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You laughed. Lin’s eyes snapped up to you. It cut through the air as sharp as a knife. It sounded empty and bitter. “A sorry? A fucking sorry? What makes you think a sorry is going to make it all better Lin? What you said can’t be undone. You said what you said and that’s that.”

The tears fell freely now. You didn’t want to move and wipe them away. You wanted Lin to see what she had done. Maybe you were too angry or bitter, but you wanted her to regret it. Most of all, you wanted to love her again.

All you could feel was the rage. The way it curdled dangerously in your veins. You loved her, you loved her so fucking much and you hate that you still did. She had shoved you in a cramped room. She told you that she was done and that she didn’t love you anymore. Worst of all, Lin didn’t trust you and she never did. You were just another shitty person in her eyes. You were nothing but another endless blob in the back of her mind. Lin didn’t care about you.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, I-I never wanted to hurt you. All those things I said were a lie. Please, believe me... I do care about you and I want you to stay in my life.. I want you to be here with me.”

Lin’s eyes shimmered with tears. You watched one fall down to the side of her cheek. You folded your arms and read her. There was nothing but honesty in her eyes. Your lip quivered as more tears fell. You felt like throwing up from the nerves and the anger that threatened to burst.

“I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of acting like this. That..I’m not happy you’re back and that I hate you. Even when you left I couldn’t hate you for being gone. I-I don’t blame you at all. I was..cold and bitter..I didn’t listen to your feelings..Even now I still didn’t listen..but I want to make things right.”

She bit her trembling lip and cried. Her tears were silent. Lin had always been a quiet crier. She would cry and make sure there was no sign of it afterwards. Lin used to say it was because being angry was better than being sad. You guessed she still thought the same even after all these years.

“It hurts. It fucking hurts. I want to hate you and I-I want to hold onto to the anger..but I can’t. I still love you even after all of this. After all this-” you choked on a whimper. You sniffled, feeling disgusting that snot was sliding out of your nose.

You wiped your eyes delicately. Lin’s eyes were puffy and red along with her nose and cheeks. She hung on every word you said. “Please,” she whispered, “I’ll do anything. Let me make this right.”

You scoffed. There was a smile on your face. It was one of disbelief and you couldn’t help but laugh at it all. At the world crashing around the two of you. It seemed like a never ending reality. The two of you would always suffer together and always have the world trying to end.

“Why should I? Why should I give you a second chance Lin? After all this? Leaving me in that shitty cell and having Suyin free me from those cuffs?”

Lin barely flinched. If it were anyone else they wouldn’t have caught it. But you weren’t everyone else. You were the only thing that Lin knew was worth fighting for.

“I don’t know,” she said. Her voice faltered but it still held strength. Her posture was tight and strong. Lin always faced the danger and the dark with a brave face. Even now she seemed to cower but she still faced your rage and the hurt that lingered in your eyes.

“Oh my god,” you muttered in disbelief. “You don’t know?” Lin was silent as she tried to read you. Your eyes were red and they were slightly crazed. She could tell that your stress levels were high. Your eyes fell from her piercing gaze and instead you focused on the room around you. On the failure your life had become. The one you had built anew was destroyed into a matter of minutes. Everything was gone and all you were was a hollow husk, left to drift away in the wind.

“No. I don’t. But I still love you. It’s all I know. I-I know nothing else but this.” Lin choked slightly and she breathed in deeply before continuing. “I want to fight for this. I want to be able to love you again.”

You laughed. It was sharp and turned into a wheeze. Lin’s brows furrowed in concern as you hobbled over. She rushed to your side as your knees hit the floor. There were tears streaming down your face rapidly and your breathing was irregular.

Lin’s hands cupped your face. “Breathe, breathe with me. It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” Her thumbs brushed your tears from your face gently. Lin’s eyes watered with tears again as she held you there in her arms.

“It hurts,” you whimpered, “It hurts so bad.” “I know,” Lin whispered, her voice faltering. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve believed you. I should’ve listened to you but instead I let my anger get the best of me and hurt you instead. And I’m so so sorry.”

You clutched her arms tightly. “I could see him in there. I could see Dee. He was crying he was..he was..” “Shh,” Lin shushed you gently. “It wasn’t your fault. Nothing you could have done would allow that to happen. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I turned around and uncuffed you right there so you wrists wouldn’t be so bruised. Then you wouldn’t have to suffer through that alone.”

Your swallowed the lump in your throat. All you could hear were the sniffles from your nose as Lin rocked you gently.

After a while, you wiggled out of her hold. It was quiet again and you could feel Lin’s eyes peering into your back as you turned to Azure and Ruby. “Thank you..for taking care of them.” Lin’s lips quivered as she pulled them into a smile. “Of course. They’re wonderful birds.” You helped her up from the floor. There was still more to be said but the air felt better. It didn’t feel as tight around your throat anymore and the sadness settled lighter in your chest..

“Thank you for the apology.” Lin watched you carefully. Your eyes bored holes into Ruby. They were blissfully unaware of what was going on. “But I can’t accept it right now.”

Lin nodded. Another tear fell from her eye. “I understand.” She moved to your door slowly. Her hand clenched the handle. “I still love you,” you choked out. “I-I..I just need some time.” Lin turned to you. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and there were tears flowing down her cheeks. “I’ll wait for you. I will always wait for you.”

****

After Lin left, you hurried into the bathroom to look at yourself. Everything made your head slightly spin and your skin felt clammy. Your reflection peered back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were sunken in and your skin looked sickly.You felt your chest tightened as you choked on the crisp air. The panic hit you like a sack of bricks after spending so fucking long in that shitty room. The confrontation with Lin was the final nail in the coffin. You felt dreary and exhausted as you stood there. The adrenaline had finally wore off and pain flooded in every bone in your body. Everyone had thought you were a traitor. They had looked at you with disgust and hate. Like you were some kind of junk to discard. Lin had turned against you and had the guards shove you into the cramped interrogation room, knowing your fear of the dark. She wanted nothing to do with you anymore and left you to rot. But then she came running back, crying and asked for forgiveness.

Were you too cruel? Should you have told her it was okay? You were awful to say those things to her. You should apologize and tell her it’s all okay, that it was your fault instead. The guilt came flooding with remorse and anger. It became a deafening roar in your ears as it threatened to swallow you. You should have just stayed quiet and been a good girl like your mother had taught you.

Crack! Your fists bashed against the mirror in front of you. Glass shards flew onto the floor, slicing your hands. Your knuckles and palms filled with a burning hot pain. All you could see was the red and the white filling your vision. The rage and the suffering had finally been freed. It swept all around like heavy smoke and curled it’s whisps around your heart. All you could feel was the heat inside of your chest and the wrath that prickled your veins.

You looked down and saw that your hands had been cut open. Glass shards had dug its way into your skin. The sharp points had pierced your palms good enough that blood gurgled to the surface. Then, it became numb again. The stinging pain in your hands was replaced by adrenaline again. You felt nothing as you bashed your fist against the mirror for a second time. Then another followed suit. The mantra of the sickening crack was the only thing that rung in your ears. It was the only thing you could hold onto.

Blood slid from the broken mirror. It dripped from the bottom of the ridge to the sink beneath it. The drops turned into splatters once it oozed onto the white porcelain. Your fingers blazed once the ringing in your ears wore off. The glass in your palms and fists pricked your skin like thorns. You laughed bitterly. Tears sailed from your eyes. The black mold on the cabinet that held the glass stared back at you. At least I can’t see myself anymore, you thought, trying to smile. Your lips quivered as more tears fell from your puffy eyes.

Cleaning would have to come another day. You sank to the ground with your knees hitting the tile. They clinked against the glass on the floor. Your thighs stretched with a burn as you kneeled there on the ground. You were just bad as your parents. They hurt and killed everything they touched. It was futile to try and resist; this was your destiny.

*****

The closet was dark. Dee sat in your lap clinging onto you. The closet was cramped, barely fitting the two of you. It felt like the walls were pushing up against you. The closet muffled your mother and father’s screams. They shouted at one another. “When are they gonna stop,” Dee asked, digging his fingers into your tunic.

A plate smashed against the wall. The both of you flinched and Dee whimpered. “I don’t know,” you whispered. The air was heavy and made it feel like you were choking on it every time you tried to breathe in. “I’m scared.” You swallowed the pit in your throat and pulled Dee closer. “It’s gonna be okay,” you said softly, “I promise.”

You rocked him on your lap. Your knees and thighs burned from kneeling on the floor for so long. Your arms felt heavy as you held Dee close, humming. The screaming didn’t stop for a while. Some glass shattered on impact of being thrown. You hummed over your mother’s weeping, trying to drown it out.

You told yourself that it would be alright. That they wouldn’t hurt Dee or you if you stayed still. It was all going to be okay one day. Yet, even as you rocked your younger brother, something told you that things would never change.

#lin beifong x reader #lin beifong #legend of korra #legend of kora x reader #x reader #reader insert #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic

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cherryplasmids · 4 years

Text

☆ all that could have been ☆

pairing: john seed x deputy!reader fandom: far cry 5—non-game sequence prompt: it’s about time john knows how you truly feel, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time. notes: first time doing far cry so please be nice lol — i was encouraged by @hopecountyhellcat and @punisherpage —check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everything went wrong in a matter of seconds. In one moment, you’re flying high in the air with the intent of going to the Rye’s house for a drink of beer and some laughs. After a successful day of bothering the Seeds with no violent moments, you wanted to end the day right with your favorite people. You messed with the radio for a bit before turning it off in favor of humming your favorite song. The next moment, the engine explodes and you have no choice but to jump out of the plane. The parachute doesn’t do much to give you a safe landing. Instead, it gets caught in the sturdy branches of the tall Montana trees. It rips easily.

And you’re going down fast, bruising every body part as you hit multiple branches on the way.

There’s no time to think before your back slams against the forest dirt, head bouncing off the ground and connecting with loose rocks. A mixture of an agonized groan and a winded gasp emits from your lips. Tears gather up in your eyes immediately as obnoxious ringing vibrates through your head. Other than that, you can’t hear anything. Not even the loud explosion from the destroyed plane rattles you. You wouldn’t even notice it happened if it wasn’t for the flash of bursting colors and heat warming your skin.

You want to scream for help. To let out something besides the pathetic and agonized croak gurgling out of you. Your bruised throat disables that from happening.

Hopefully, the engulfing fire catches someone's attention.

An eternity later, you decide to move, no matter how excruciating. Every movement sends a stinging sensation through your arms as if a thousand wasps stung you all at once. Lifting yourself up into a sitting position, your eyes zero in on the rest of your body. It hasn’t faired any better. A rusted jagged piece of shrapnel sticks out of your thigh, with blood steadily pouring out the wound. With just the tip pointing out, a passing thought breezes by—10th-grade anatomy class mentioned important veins in the thigh. You never memorized the placements, but you might have an inkling now.

The watch on your right-hand beeps. The screen is scratched up but not cracked enough to hinder any information from being displayed. Messages upon messages come through, all from the Rye’s and Sharky. As you read through them, your mind gets all foggy, jumbling the words together. Removing your eyes from the bright screen, you begin to move with no direction. There’s no way you would die alone in the middle of this godforsaken county.

It takes a long time until you reach a clearing. Of course, it happens to be John Seed’s massive ranch. With nowhere else to go, you continue crawling to his front porch. When you reach it, you sit propped up against the wooden banisters. Despite the pain, your body begins to relax. You’re safe here. Always safe on John’s ranch. With the crash being in his territory, there’s no doubt he would go investigate. He’ll know it’s your plane once he sees the cropped baby blue sweater he bought you three days ago in the back seat and the expensive black jeans he left there after a quick rendevous a week ago. If he digs any further, he might even find the polaroid nude you tucked away in the back pocket. Only if the fire didn’t burn them.

Noticing the blood trail, you realized there isn’t enough time left before the inevitable demise. The thigh injury is pumping blood faster than a cheetah running to catch prey. By the time John comes, you’ll be done.

Jacob will celebrate the news.

You take a deep breath as you hear John’s orotund voice, mixing in with the low ringing still prominent in your ear. The pulsing sensation is thumping in your head is triggered, flaring behind your skull. He’s most likely a figment of your imagination, conjured up to keep you company until you die. A lazy hand travels slowly to touch your head. The matted hair is covered in blood and you let out a choked laugh.

“Rook?”

It takes a couple of seconds to register John’s walking toward you, eyebrows furrowed. He lifts his sunglasses and perches it on top of his head like normal. The closer he gets, the more his body mingles with the blurriness of the trees, swaying to the sporadic wind breeze. You wave at him, blood dripping from your hand.

He’s actually here.

“Hi, John.” Your raucous voice echoes in your head but you could tell it doesn’t affect him. In reality, it’s a whisper he isn’t close enough to hear. He runs to you once he notices the blood, his shiny Gucci belt beaming in the sunshine. A tired smile reaches your lips and you sigh, attempting to ignore the throbbing headache, the difficulty in swallowing, and the continuous blood loss. John’s here now. He’ll save you from this fuck up.

He’s yelling something but your hearing goes in and out. The words don’t make any sense when you attempt to piece them together. It only hurts to try. Once he reaches you, he tucks you into his muscular arms with his lips forming words. His lips are moving too quickly to be understandable so you opt to read his expressive eyes. Tears prick the baby blues for a few seconds before spilling over like a waterfall.

“Ro—Rook—Rook!” His voice like a high-piched foghorn, John successfully pulls you out of your daydream.

A smile still plays at your lips. “I had a little accident, John.”

He’s shaking his head. “A random fucking Angel shot down your plane.” He sniffles and cradles the back of your head. His body shudders when he sees blood oozing out onto his hands. Never once did he ever cringe from the substance in his adult life and yet, here is practically breaking at the sight of it. He doesn’t care if other people suffer—actually revels in the sight of it. But now, with you in his arms sporting the same pained expression as the rest, he’s afraid. A childhood flashback of Jacob bleeding from parental abuse takes over for a moment. The fear is vivid.

“I’ve called an ambulance.”

A thought conjures up in your head. He’s utterly stunning. Somehow John remains mesmerizing in every way. The splotchy redness on his cheeks, the peeking snot, and his frightened eyes do nothing to deter that fact.

“Joseph isn’t too happy, I bet.” You let out a weak chuckle before peering up at him. “You came for me.”

“I’ll always come for you.”

“What a tiring job.” Your words begin to slur, saliva gathering in your mouth. However, the way John’s eyes comically widen, you know it isn’t saliva.

“You’re going to be okay. The ambulance is coming and you’ll be fine—back to annoying us, okay?”

You cough up, blood splattering John’s left cheek in small droplets. “Maybe not.”

“No!” He yells and you flinch. He visibly softens, a fresh batch of tears seeping out of his eyes. The redness of his eyes interferes with his beautiful baby blues. You want him to stop crying, so you grasp onto his hand and give him a strained, reassuring smile.

“Sorry,”

He shakes his head and caresses his thumb across your split bottom lip. With such tender care mixed in with whispered lovely words, your body eases into relaxation. Every word or sound coming out of his mouth is like butter, all warm and comforting. Even in this time, the raging pain subsides for a moment to allow some clarity—to listen to John’s rich, calming voice.

Everything about him is magical.

“Do you think we could ever be together?” The pain from your bruised throat causes the words to take ages for it to come together. Soon, coherent sentences won’t be possible.

“Of course, we are meant to be together. Joseph said so himself. God wills it, Rook.”

You ignore his words and continue with your frayed thoughts. “Not in this lifetime. In another where your brother isn’t a psycho—” You take a deep breath, cutting the sentence short. The anger bubbling within your stomach at the thought of Joseph uses more energy than you would like. You’d be damned if your last words were about him.

“I love you, John Seed. It took me some time but yeah. I love you.” Your words are choppy, consciousness falling in and out as you strung your last sentences together.

He begins to sob.

“Would’ve married you too. Spend every day loving you. You deserve it, Johnny.”

After feeling numb for so long, John can’t lose you. You’re the only thing that encourages real, raw emotion from him. To come to terms with his traumas and twist it into a positive outlook. “You've been through shit, Johnny.” You told him months ago, the first time you stumbled upon his ranch. Why let that shit get you down? Stop you from living life? I’ll teach ya, free of charge. With a wink and a pat on the ass, John knew he was hooked. And you’ve done exactly that. Taught him that there’s more to life than suffering. A life where he doesn’t have to inflict pain to feel something. A life where he can live happily without the idea of sins carving him up at any given moment. You’ve been ingrained within every aspect of his life to the point where he doesn’t remember ever being without you.

What will he do when you’re gone?

Another heart-wrenching sob emits from him. His alarmingly begins trembling even more. Through all the anguished cries, he says your real name, chanting it as if it’s the only prayer he knows. He’s talking again and moving frantically. But nothing computes in your brain. He does all sorts of things in seconds: wiping his snot on his blue Prada shirt, tapping your cheeks when your eyes close for a nanosecond too long, waving at something beyond your restricted vision. All the quick movements send your mind spinning like a gravitron. It takes you back to the first time you ever went on one. You were 10 and they had to stop midway because you threw up in it.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy “Let’s take a nap, Johnny.”

“No,” his voice sounds like he’s speaking underwater. “You have to stay up, Rook or else—” He breaks off, choking on his own words before pulling you further into his arms to cry into your chest. “Please, just listen to me for once.”

You try to nod but your head is filled with heavy lead, weighing it to the point where it hurts to even twitch. All the words you want to say die in your throat, replaced by blood. It creeps in your throat before spilling out of your lips in a thin trail.

Slowly but surely, you begin to fade, sinking into a deep abyss of empty blackness. Your last thought is about John’s baby blues and all that could’ve been.

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,848 published: april 18, 2020 [my birthday!] edited: n/a

#far cry #far cry fic #far cry fanfiction #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry 5 fic #john seed #john seed x reader #john seed fanfiction #far cry imagine #fanfiction #video games #my writings #original works #original masterlist #joseph seed #jacob seed #faith seed #x reader

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fruit-teeth · 3 years

Text

Matters of Time and Fate (Chapter 18)

(quick author’s note: hi! This chapter is not new, I wrote it over a month ago but I finally posting it here. Chapter 19 will be out at some point...I’m working on it, I swear. Anyway, hope you enjoy, but trigger warning: this chapter deals substance/alcohol abuse and mentions of childhood trauma. If that bothers you, read with caution or maybe just skip this chapter. Thanks!)

A mysterious bowl of pistachios sat out on the table - mysterious in the sense that Olivia had not actually seen anyone put them out, yet they were there, and they’d been there for a while. Olivia picked one out of the bowl and looked it over, before cracking the shell to reveal the nut inside.

She remembered how her father used to eat these, and that sometimes he would share them with her on late nights they stayed up to finish her lessons. Now, though, the pistachio did not taste the way she recalled pistachios tasting, and she spat it out right after taking a bite of it. Setting the bowl down, she leaned against the table, pursing her lips together as she realized that the world had become incredibly different ever since her father died.

Just then, something clattered upstairs, and Olivia could hear Sniper yelling, “Oh, piss! No! Hell…”

Intrigued, Olivia got back up and headed up the stairs, curious to know what the matter was.

In one of the bedrooms, Sniper had set up a tower of crates, but clearly, they had not been as steady as he thought. They had toppled over and onto the floor, and one of them also knocked down some trinkets on a nearby counter. As Olivia peeked in through the doorway, she could see Sniper kneeling on the floor, collecting the items he knocked down while muttering to himself.

“What are you doing?” she asked after a moment, stepping into the room.

Sniper startled, turning around to look at Olivia. “Oh! Hey, uh, I didn’t expect to see you there,”

Olivia took a moment to look all around the room, just observing. “Are those your guns?” she pointed out Sniper’s weapon cases, which were stacked beside the window.

“Oh, I…” Sniper nodded, moving closer to Olivia. “Yeah…look, it's nothing that concerns you, alright?”

This statement piqued Olivia’s interest right away, her eyes getting wide. “What happened? Are you gonna get to shoot someone?”

Sniper started to answer, “Well, I dunno if—”

“Can I watch?” Olivia cut him off, a glint of something Sniper did not like in her eyes.

Before he could try and dissolve the situation, however, a pair of footsteps came stumbling up the stairs, and Lar-Nah soon appeared in the doorway. When Olivia looked up at her, she noticed that she was smiling, but it was a dazed, sleepy smile. Not only that, but she smelled like some strange kind of chemical, and though the scent wasn’t terribly strong, it made Olivia take a step back while wrinkling her nose.

“What are you kids doing?” Lar-Nah slurred, her body leaning against the doorframe.

Olivia tilted her head at the sight of Lar-Nah, watching her in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, rather blunt.

Lar-Nah giggled again. “Nothing is wrong! Nothing is wrong…”

Sniper’s mouth hung open for a moment before he growled and stormed up to his mother, snatching up her wrist. “Are you drunk!?”

“Don’t touch me!” Lar-Nah yelped, her expression suddenly changing to one of anger. She tugged her wrist away from him, staggering back. “Why do you care, anyway…?”

Across the hall, the other bedroom door opened, and Demoman emerged with a basket of clothes. Upon noticing him, Sniper called out, “Did my mom get into your scrumpy!?”

Demo froze in confusion. “What!? No way in hell would I just leave my—”

Lar-Nah waved him off. “No, no, no…no,” she reached into the pocket of the long coat she was wearing, and she produced a now mostly empty bottle of cough syrup. “I tried to get into your masked friend’s wine stash, but I couldn’t get the combination lock…he knows how to keep a secure lock! Anyway, luckily the doctor had this, and this is the greatest kind of cough syrup I have ever had,”

Sniper yanked the bottle out of her hand, staring at her in disbelief. “Are…are you bloody serious right now!?”

Olivia took a few steps back, just observing the interaction in silence. Lar-Nah blinked, and then replied simply, “Yes, I did drink that, yes,”

“How could you!?” Sniper’s voice pitched a little, but he did not back down. “We give you a place to stay, food, people to be with, and then you do…you do this!? You drink bloody cough syrup, out of everything!?”

Lar-Nah only shook her head, not wanting to make eye contact with her son. “You sound like my mother,”

“Good!” Sniper snapped at her, his hand tightening around the bottle. “At least one of us is being responsible around here…”

At that, Demo noticed Olivia watching this interaction, and he quickly grabbed her by the hand to take her into the hallway. “Aye, lassie! Best we step out for a bit…”

Olivia resisted him at first, but then gave in and allowed him to take her down the hallway and towards the stairs. She continued listening, though: the tone of Lar-Nah’s voice changed, and she suddenly began yelling back at Sniper.

“And who are you to tell me how to live my life!?” Lar-Nah barked back at him. “This isn’t your body, you son of a…”

“Son of a what?” Sniper crossed his arms. When she didn’t answer, he prompted her again. “Son of a what? No, finish that thought!”

From the room next door, Scout could be heard pounding on the wall. “Hey! Shut up!”

Lar-Nah stumbled towards the wall, sneering out at him, “Oh, shut up, eh? Is that how you talk to women? Your mother must be proud…”

“That’s something a nerd would say!” Scout yelled back.

Before Lar-Nah could say or do anything else, the amount of cough-syrup she’d consumed began to make her head throb, and she struggled to stay on her feet but failed. She collapsed right in front of Sniper and onto the floor, creating a loud ‘thud’ as her body met the wood panels.

Sniper huffed, dropping down and yanking Lar-Nah up to her feet. “Oh, get up! Bloody hell, you’re a mess…”

He dragged her into the adjacent bathroom, ignoring Scout (who at this point had come out of the other room to watch the scene unfold) and closing the door behind them.

Once he was alone with his mother, Sniper felt the anger and bitterness he’d been feeling for the past few months start to seep out of him, and it was then that he began to rant, not caring if his mother was conscious enough to understand him.

“I didn’t have to bring you here,” he growled, carrying her to the tub and setting her down inside of it. “I have a mom – she’s the one who raised me, she’s the one who taught me how to be a good bloke, how to ride a bike, how to read…but she’s gone, now,”

Sniper paused, watching Lar-Nah for a moment. She appeared to have passed out, her head laid back and her eyes shut. He continued. “All you did was give birth to me. Maybe I just…maybe I just thought you’d be here for me, in the way she was. But I was wrong…” he grabbed the showerhead off the wall, switching the water on. “First day here, and you get piss-drunk on cough syrup!”

He turned the showerhead and began spraying her with the cold water in an attempt to sober her up. He knew she would not have the best reaction to this, but he didn’t expect her to react the way she did. The moment the cold water contacted her body, Lar-Nah let out a blood-curdling shriek, waving her hands wildly and scrambling to get away. Sniper almost felt guilty for doing this, but he didn’t stop. Something about this was strangely cathartic for him, and he tilted the showerhead to get some of the chilled water onto her face.

Lar-Nah tried to stand up but slipped, falling flat onto her back with another loud yell. Yet instead of trying to escape again, she curled up into a ball and began to sob, her whole body shaking and her eyes wide open. When Sniper saw this, he shut off the water instantly, realizing something was terribly wrong. He stood there, showerhead in hand, watching as Lar-Nah shook like a leaf and sobbed, her face contorted into one of panic.

She began whispering something, and as Sniper leaned down to listen, he could make out some words:

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry, I won’t do it again…” she whispered, just barely audible. She sounded almost like a scared child, and she repeated, “I won’t do it again…I’m sorry, Auntie, I’m so sorry…”

Sniper wondered for a moment if maybe she was faking this to get sympathy out of him, but when he reached down and touched her shoulder, he felt right away how tense her muscles had become. This was serious, and without thinking, he pulled her out of the tub and carefully laid her down onto the bathmat.

Lar-Nah yelped again, but Sniper quickly grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around her, rubbing her shoulder with one hand. “Hey…” he swallowed, trying to sound comforting. “I-it’s okay, Mom…”

As Lar-Nah continued to sob quietly, Sniper sat with her on the bathroom floor, trying his best to put her at ease by rubbing her shoulders. When she pulled the towel tighter around herself, Sniper spoke gently, “You’re not there, mom. You’re here…”

The sobs simmered down to a low whimper, before stopping entirely. Lar-Nah caught her breath, and after a few seconds, she lifted her head. There was a look of confusion on her face, and she looked down at her soaking wet clothes and the towel wrapped around herself. She then looked to Sniper, searching his face for answers.

“What happened?” she asked after a moment, squinting. “Am I hungover again…?”

Sniper tried to think of how to respond. “Uh…sort of,” he moved back, giving her some personal space but also wanting to keep an eye on her. “Do you…not remember what just…?”

Before he could finish, the door opened, and Medic stepped in. “Goodness!” he exclaimed, taking in the sight of Lar-Nah. “What happened here!? Tavish told me you drank a bottle of cough syrup!”

“Oh…” the memory came back to Lar-Nah, and she refused to meet Medic’s gaze. “I…did, yes. I did do that,”

Sniper watched her expression as she spoke, and this time, he saw the pain in her eyes. She was running from something, and he could see that, now.

Medic just sighed, walking closer and helping Lar-Nah up. “Come with me…that cough syrup is my own invention! It works well, but it is meant for sick people only,”

“That’s me,” Lar-Nah murmured, following Medic downstairs to the lab.

Sniper followed close behind, and as he watched his mother, he suddenly felt like the world did not feel the way it did before.

Olivia had heard most of the commotion, but Demo had distracted her with another crossword puzzle to keep her from watching the incident. At some point, though, Demo had left the living room, meaning that Olivia was alone again.

She set the crossword to the side, getting up to investigate whatever the adults were up to. Sniper had guns with him, and it seemed like Scout had been busy with something, too…something was afoot, and she was curious to figure out what it was. At that moment, though, Heavy seemingly came out of nowhere and placed his hand on Olivia’s shoulder.

“What you doing, little Olivia?” he asked her, leaning down to brush a few wisps of hair away from her forehead.

Olivia pursed her lips together, rocking on her heels. “I wanna see the guns…”

Heavy’s expression changed, and he frowned. “Guns? Why guns?”

“Well…” she turned to look up at him. “Sniper had guns in his room, and he looked like he was gonna do something with them. Is he gonna shoot someone?”

Heavy took a long breath, keeping his hand on Olivia’s shoulder. After a moment, he answered, “We should hope we will not need to shoot. You are little, do not want you get hurt…”

Olivia gasped a little at that, suddenly excited. “Is there gonna be a fight?” before Heavy could reply, Olivia jumped up and ran to the front door. “I wanna help! I wanna fight, too!”

Horrified, Heavy rushed over and plucked her away from the door, exclaiming, “Olivia! No!”

Olivia squirmed in his grip, grunting and flailing her hands. “What!? I wanna fight! I wanna—”

Heavy set Olivia down on the sofa, and he sat beside her, taking her hands into his. “Olivia,” he began, his tone low and serious. “You are too little for fighting. Is not your job,”

Olivia crossed her arms, scowling. “But daddy says if I fight, guys won’t wanna fight back because they won’t hurt me—”

“Your father was wrong,” Heavy cut her off, and he moved closer to make sure Olivia understood him. “Very wrong,”

“But it worked!” Olivia insisted. “Saxton didn’t wanna fight me, those other guys weren’t gonna do it either!”

Heavy sighed. “Olivia…there are some men, very bad men, who do not care that you are so small,”

Olivia paused, watching Heavy’s face and seeing how drastically his expression had changed. She went quiet, before asking, “What?”

Heavy clasped his hands around hers, and he began, “I was small, one time…bad men came to our village, took everything, killed my father…” he paused, hoping this story wouldn’t be too upsetting for Olivia, but she only stared silently up at him. He continued. “I did not think they would hurt me, or my sisters. I was wrong…”

“What’d they do?” Olivia asked, suddenly feeling quite uneasy.

Heavy shook his head. “It does not matter. Was long time ago. But, little Olivia…” he tucked his finger beneath her chin, looking her in the eyes. “Men like them…they are more, always more. And they do not care how little their enemy may be…they do not care. They would hurt you, and not care,”

Olivia stared down at her hands, noticing how they were shaking all of a sudden. “That’s not…that’s not what daddy told me…”

“I know,” Heavy squeezed her hand. “But I have seen war. Is no place for a little one,”

The clock on the wall ticked in a quiet rhythm as Heavy and Olivia sat in silence. After a moment, Olivia murmured, “I wish I wasn’t so little…”

“You will not always be,” Heavy assured her, pulling her into his lap. “But is okay to be little…”

Olivia laid her head on his chest, and she let out a sad little sigh. “I feel scared,” she admitted softly. “But I don’t wanna be scared,”

Heavy felt his heart ache when she said that, and he placed his hand on her back to reassure her. “Is okay…you are protected. We will keep you safe,” he pulled away, and he gave her a small smile. “You like books? Like to read?”

“Oh,” Olivia thought about it, and then nodded. “Yeah, I can read. Daddy taught me how to,”

“Good,” Heavy turned around, reaching for the bookshelf behind him. “Let us see…ah! Fairytales!” he pulled out a large book titled, 100 Classic Fairytales and then handed it to Olivia. “Here! You want to read?”

Olivia took a moment to just look over the book’s front cover. It was beautifully decorated, with gold trimmings and sweet animal characters, and while Olivia was interested in it, she felt as though she were missing something.

“Yeah, but…” she looked up at Heavy, moving closer to him. “Can you…read it with me?”

Heavy paused, but he nodded, settling down against the couch with her. “Of course. We read together, yes?”

As Heavy opened the book and began to read with Olivia, his heartache still did not go away. Olivia did not deserve this: she did not deserve to feel afraid of these strange, threatening men. Heavy remembered when his sisters were younger, around Olivia’s age, and how growing up in such violent circumstances had affected them later in their lives. Olivia deserved better, and Heavy knew he and the others had to do better for her.

#writing #my writing #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 olivia mann #tf2 sniper #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 demoman #tf2 scout #tf2 lar-nah #ask to tag #addiction tw #abuse tw #i mean its referenced but still #long post

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mlmdarkfiction · 5 years

Text

For Anonymous

Ship: Billy Lenz x Brahms Heelshire

TW: none, but the fic is NSFW

Description:

Billy finds refuge in the seemingly abandoned Heelshire house after his vacation takes a turn after he kills a local woman and her wife. At first he thinks himself to be alone in the mansion, but the longer he stays the more he begins to believe that this is not entirely the case.

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The Heelshire Mansion had quickly gone into a state of disarray. With Malcolm no longer delivering groceries and seeing to the grounds, and Greta no longer seeing to Brahms everything had fallen apart. The outside, admittedly, looks much worse than the inside, although the mess Brahms had made in his devastation and anger left much to be desired.

Thankfully, the prowler on the Heelshire’s property didn’t care much for looks. In fact, the abandoned feel of the property and main house was actually spurred Billy on in choosing his new place of residence. He had been staying in the town, at first in the local hotel, and then…

Billy’s not quite sure why he did what he did. Obviously, something triggered him, something always did, but he’s not sure what. It’s not near enough to the holiday season and- No. It didn’t matter now why he did what he did. It was done. He had followed a woman who’d come into the hotel to speak with the man who ran it, and when she left Billy followed.

He followed the woman to her home, snuck inside, and then he killed the woman and her wife. He had stayed in the house as long as he was able, until he was stable once again, and when someone finally came to check on the missing pair, he left before they ever knew he was there. However, with leaving the house of his kill came a very serious issue of where he was going to stay.

It’s very likely that they suspect him, the strange foreigner who’d been staying at the hotel only to disappear the day the murders took place, and so he dares not go back there. While staying he had heard about the abandoned house, a bit out of the way of the town, and apparently haunted. Safe to say, Billy could hide there without having anyone to worry about.

After all he fears people above all else, even so-called ghosts.

Billy doesn’t think to simply check the front door of the mansion. He’s breaking in after all, abandoned building or not, but if he had checked it, he would find the door completely unlocked.

Brahms had refused the door after Greta had left. Hoping that the nanny would return, and by keeping the door unlocked assuring she could enter the home again. Because despite how much time had passed, and despite the many nights Brahms spent alone in the home without a routine or a good night kiss he still believed hoped that Greta would return to him.

She never will.

But that’s what Brahms first thinks when he hears the shattering of glass from a window on the first floor. He slinks back into the walls and makes his way down to meet her. Brahms will be good this time, and, for now, he’ll stay within the walls to avoid scaring her.

But when he makes his way down the stairs, looking through one of the many peepholes he’d cut into the wooden paneling over the years he’s not met with the sight of Greta, no he’s met with the appearance of a stranger. A strange man none the less.

Brahms’ first, kneejerk reaction, is to kill the man, but he doesn’t. Something stops him. And so instead of leaving the wall to dispose of the trespasser, he remains hidden and simply watches. He finds that, for a man, this stranger is quite pretty with his somewhat slender frame and shoulder length hair. It’s also easy for Brahms to pick up on the fact that the man seems to be…almost afraid? This fact leaves Brahms almost feeling a protective tug in his chest, as he wonders what exactly it was this man was running from. Whatever it was must have been severe enough for the man to decide taking refuge in an abandoned house was a good idea.

In reality Billy isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he enters the home. He’d busted the window, knocking out the remaining glass with a tree branch, and only then twisting his lithe body through the opening to his new temporary abode.

The place is a mess, but not as much as he had been expecting. In fact, aside from himself, it didn’t look as if anyone else had broken into this place.

There are smashed plates on the ground, furniture that appears to have been thrown about, and paintings and other artwork ripped, but the actual condition of the place isn’t terrible.

Billy can see himself staying here comfortably for a long while. He’s completely unaware of the man in the walls watching his every move, no he’s far more concerned with the possible threats outside of the mansion, those who would be looking for him.

He wastes no time in exploring the ‘abandoned’ home. To his surprise most of the mansion is actually intact. Although the foyer and billiard room have been trashed, the library and kitchen are intact. His exploration of the upstairs part of the home results in similar findings. One of the master bedrooms has been completely destroyed, although the other, what Billy guesses to be the Master Bedroom, looks completely untouched.

And eventually…he finds Brahms’ room. Of course, he doesn’t know that’s what the room is, or at least, what it’s supposed to represent. He finds the children’s toys littering the room, he see’s the porcelain doll in the bed.

It forces a reaction from the man. He decides very quickly that he does not like this room. The reason is something he knows, it settles uncomfortable close in his core next to his trauma and grief, his hand twitches uncomfortably by his side. A familiar urge to destroy coming to his body.

Billy takes a deep breath, he composes himself, and he shuts the door. A level of self-control he often struggles with.

He’s not okay. Far from it. He’s twitchy, paranoid, more so than before, and now more than anything else he simply wishes to sleep. Billy already knows, when he rests his head, it will not be peaceful.

Brahms had witnessed the whole interaction from his safety of the house’s walls. He’d seen the troubled expression on the stranger’s face, the mix of disgust, fear, panic, maybe even something else Brahms was unable to place.

Was it the doll?

Even he wasn’t naïve enough to be unaware of a fear of such things, but surely it wasn’t just the doll. The door to his room is shut by a shaking hand, and Brahms follows as the stranger turns back down the hall towards his Mother and Fathers room.

There’s no scenario in which Brahms allows this stranger to explore the halls of his home unsupervised. His parents’ room is the only room that it makes sense for Billy to rest in. Greta’s room was almost completely destroyed by Brahms himself, and for some reason his childhood room bothered the stranger.

A week passes of the stranger living in the house. Brahms has kept himself to the walls, limiting his time outside of them solely to eat when he knows that Billy is sleeping, as he’s afraid of making his presence known. But from his position in the walls he’s learned a bit about his uninvited guest.

His name is Billy. Brahms had found this fact out while listening to the man, as it turns out he talks to himself quite often, depending on the day it escalates. Sometimes it’s nothing more than a murmur under his breath, and yet other days it’s frustrated yelling, anger taken out verbally onto himself.

It worries Brahms.

But for all the worry it’s caused Brahms, it’s also opened his mind to who this stranger is. For starters his name is Billy. At first Brahms thought that perhaps Billy was yelling at someone else, someone Brahms couldn’t see, but that wasn’t actually the case. Meaning that the more concerning reality was that all the hateful, and downright confusing things Billy said were in fact pointed towards himself.

All problematic behaviors aside, Brahms finds himself liking Billy. As much as Brahms needs someone to look after him, he wants to look after Billy as well.

The solution is Brahms slowly easing the idea onto the other man, who is still unaware of his presence in the house.

To start with he introduced the doll into the equation, to mixed results. Until now, the doll had been kept away from Billy, locked away with Brahms’ other toys in his childhood bedroom, to avoid upsetting Billy.

But now that Brahms has decided to keep Billy it’s time to introduce the doll into the equation. After all, Billy still has to prove himself able to take care of Brahms.

Billy notices it when the doll begins to pop up throughout the house. Brahms is far from subtle, and it seems to be there every time he turns around.

And at first Billy isn’t sure what to think of it. He’d heard the rumors about the house before hand, about the fact this place was supposedly haunted by the ghost of a little boy. He hadn’t believed it or actually cared before now.

When the doll first makes its appearance, suddenly sitting on the counter behind Billy as he cooked, it shocks the man enough to make him jump. It scares Billy enough that his natural reaction is to grab the thing and destroy it.

He almost does so but stops himself. Unknowingly, that may have saved his life.

But no, Billy can’t bring it open himself to throw the doll, even after it’s in his grasp. No that he’s holding the doll he can see that it’s obviously broken.

Or well…was broken. The face had, at one point, been completely shattered. Although someone, or something, had done a decent job at repairing it. Still there was no amount of glue capable of removing the thin cracks that litter the dolls porcelain face.

Instead of throwing it across the room as intended, Billy finds himself taking a good ten or so minutes to just stare down at the doll, examining it fully.

Oddly calmed, and no longer going to break the doll, he returns it to its sitting position on the counter, only to completely leave the kitchen behind, venturing further into the house. He finds the room, the one which he previously knew to be containing the doll and opens the child’s room to find that the doll is in fact missing from its place in bed.

When Billy closes the door to the bedroom, he slams the door.

The next morning when Billy wakes, the doll is beside him in bed. He stares at it, long and hard, blinking the sleep away from his eyes as he waits to see if it’s real or simply something imagined by his mentally ill brain. But it’s real. The doll was really there, laying inches from him, possibly the whole night he’d been sleeping.

This time he does get rid of it. Chucking it violently outside of the bedroom.

The doll itself doesn’t break, landing onto the wooden floor with a hard thump, but otherwise completely intact.

Billy doesn’t care to see to its destruction, instead he closes the door to the bedroom, locking it as he does so.

Every part of his brain is screaming in absolute agony and paranoia. Someone had been in his room. Someone had found him at his most vulnerable. Sure, they had only, for some reason, placed a doll beside him, but they could have-

“Ach!”

He’s panicking.

It’s far from the reaction Brahms had been expecting.

Billy pulls at his hair, nervous hands needing some form of outlet, it hurts but it helps. He goes from pulling his hair, to straight up beating his fists against his head.

Brahms does the only thing he can to try and alleviate the situation. He reveals himself. The locked door isn’t an issue, after all, he has many secret doors to the house. It’s more than simple for Brahms to open the door into his parents’ room, and to Billy. “Please don’t be upset Billy…”

It’s the childish voice. The most nonthreatening way Brahms, a 6’3 man with a voice much deeper than Billy’s, can manage.

Somehow…It works. At least Billy is distracted enough by the sudden appearance of the large masked man, that he falls silent hands limply falling to his side.

Billy takes a tentative step back away from Brahms, and although he’s hesitant, that doesn’t stop him. He follows Billy, taking a step forward for every step back the other man takes.

It doesn’t take long before Billy’s cornered between Brahms and a wall. His eyes are exactly that of a trapped animal. It reminds Brahms of the stray animals he’d get his hands on before squeezing the life out of them.

“It’s okay.”

The soft cooing of Brahms’ little boy voice does little to actually soothe Billy, especially when Brahms goes the extra mile to hug the panicked man. Once again, Brahms confusing and unexpected actions manage to calm Billy, if only because he’s too confused to say anything.

He’s frozen in fear and shock, body stiff as a board as he’s held. “Are you better now?”

Billy nods. He’s not sure what to do or say. In fact, he’s afraid of what this stranger would do if he were to say no. The hug is ended, but Brahms doesn’t go far. He only leaves Billy alone long enough to grab his doll.

Thankfully, no further damage has come to the doll. Even the face that had been shattered once seems to be okay.

When he returns to find Billy right where he’d left him, still standing against the wall. He’s been watching Brahms with wide eyes the whole time.

The taller man goes to the bed, sitting there with his mini-me and getting him comfortable. Billy doesn’t budge from his position against the wall, waiting to see what Brahms is going to do next.

Billy is confused. He doesn’t know who the stranger is, or why he’s here. He’s frightened by the porcelain mask, and the doll, proof that this stranger was likely the one who’d been watching him and moving said item around.

Even more confusing was his bodies reaction to the hug. Yes, he was afraid, his whole body stiffening up because of it, but… As embarrassing as it is to admit, he found himself slightly aroused by the simple contact.

Truthfully, Billy couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him in any sort of friendly manner, let alone a full-blown hug.

It’s why when Brahms pats the spot on the bed beside him, Billy finds his legs moving of their own accord before his mind can even register it. He’s already craving more of the positive physical attention.

It’s been two weeks now since Brahms first made his presence known to Billy. Since then he’s been able to successfully able to convince the other man to follow the routine, at least the best he was able to. It reminded Billy of the time right after everything with his parents happened, when he first started therapy, his therapist had told him that structure was good for him, and it was. Now living with Brahms, and keeping him to a somewhat regular schedule, Billy found himself living at least a little, more at ease.

Still Brahms was difficult.

For example, Billy was sure he’d already tucked Brahms into bed, including the goodnight kiss, but now he was sure someone was watching him.

Maybe it’s just the paranoia.

After all, he was trying to, for the first time since coming to stay within the walls of the Heelshire he was trying to take care of himself…sexually.

Billy has a bit of a hair thin trigger, it doesn’t take much or very long for him to get aroused, and it’s made the time living within the house a bit of a hell, but now he’s pent up beyond his own very little self-control.

His cold hands had only just slipped beneath the waist band of his pants to tease the flesh of his hips and thighs when Billy hears it. Somethings shuffling in the walls.

He stops. Hands still in his pants, resting against the warm flesh of his thighs, his cock twitches in desperation, but Billy doesn’t move, entirely still as he waits to try and see if he hears the sound again. But he doesn’t.

There’s no more shuffling within the walls, and so Billy continues, an audible moan leaving his throat as he finally moves to grip himself.

He won’t last long. He’s far too pent up, hips raising to buck into his own eager hands.

Billy doesn’t try to hold back his moans, dirty talk, and other various sounds that come from his mouth in pleasured bliss, they run on autopilot, leaving Billy completely unaware of what it is he’s actually even saying. A thin trail of drool slips past his lips as he moans and mewls like an animal.

The sounds he makes do wonders to muffle the sound of his voyeur.

Because Brahms had noticed something seemed unusual with Billy that night. He wasn’t able to put his finger on what exactly it was, but he was jumpy, unwilling to touch Brahms, almost downright refusing to give the man his goodnight kiss.

He’d assumed the worse. Assumed that Billy’s odd actions meant that he was planning to leave Brahms, just like Greta did. So, the second Billy left Brahms alone, tucked into bed, he got up and ventured into the walls to see just what his ‘nanny’ was going to do.

When Brahms goes through the maze of walls in the house, makes his way to Billy’s bedroom only to find that Billy’s playing with himself, hand in his pants teasingly close to the hard outline Brahms can see there, he’s filled with relief.

Billy wasn’t going to leave him. He was just touching himself.

Brahms feels relief…and something else. It’s not that he’s never been aroused before. He was attracted to Greta. He stole her clothes and made a doll version of her to cuddle and do other things to as well.

But he doesn’t need a doll of Billy. He has the real thing within his grasp and practically begging. However, before Brahms can either comes to Billy’s aid himself, or at the very least get his pants around his ankles to alleviate the tightness, Billy’s finished.

The fact alone is enough to bring a pout to Brahms’ covered face. He watches as Billy’s flushed face flops back against the pillow, curled sweaty locks framing his panting face. Brahms watches it all.

He loves the curve of Billy’s spine as he tries to relax into the bed, the rising and falling of his chest with every calming post orgasmic breath.

Brahms is taken off guard when, seemingly calmed down, Billy stands up from his bed.

A shower. Billy wants a shower. He didn’t have the foresight to pull himself from his pants, and now not only were his hands covered in cum, but so were his thighs, and underwear as well.

Ignoring the stickiness between his legs, unaware of the much bigger man watching, Billy makes his way to the bathroom. He ignores his reflection, stripping without so much as glancing to the mirror, and starting the water.

Brahms grabs Billy from behind. It scares the life out of Billy, still not used to his ‘roommate’ appearing almost entirely out of thing air.

Billy squirms and thrashes, only stopping when he turns fully in Brahms’ arms to see just who exactly it is holding him. He relaxes if only slightly, hand reaching up to cup the mans face when he realizes the mask is nowhere to be seen.

Before now he’d never actually seen Brahms without the unnerving mask he always wore.

“W-What are you?...”

Billy’s voice was always a panicked jumpy whisper, this time being no exception, and it’s easy for Brahms to interrupt him.

Not with the child’s voice, but with his own.

“Shh…Naughty Billy,” it’s a phrase he’d heard the man call himself while in the moment, “I want to play.”

The reaction Billy has is more than satisfactory. Brahms doesn’t bother trying to hide the smirk that takes his face watching as Billy flushes, and feeling as something hardens pressed against the two men.

It seems much easier to rile Billy than Brahms had originally thought. This doesn’t stop Brahms from following through with his seduction tactics, moving his face slightly to the side, to take one of the fingers Billy was using to cradle his face into his mouth and sucking.

The desired affect plays out as Billy gives a soft, uncertain moan.

He wants to enjoy himself, but he’s also deeply paranoid, twitchy, and unsure of what exactly Brahms is trying to accomplish by doing this.

Giving the finger a final lick, he pulls away to speak,

“Do you want to play with me, Billy?”

It’s asked once again in his real voice, the deep gruff voice that sends shivers down Billy’s spine, and before he can stop himself, he finds himself nodding along to Brahms’ question.

Brahms wastes no time stripping to join Billy in the nude, watching Billy as he does so.

The smaller man is obviously aroused, but also incredibly nervous. He doesn’t interact, in fact he stays still, watching as Brahms strips himself down, Billy hands clenching and unclenching into fists the whole time.

Whether Brahms notices these odd behaviors or not, he doesn’t react to them, picking Billy up with ease, a noise of exasperation and light fear as he’s taken off of his feet.

He carries him as far as the shower, before starting the water and pinning Billy to the wall.

The first kiss they share is hard and desperate, their teeth knock together, and a soft noise of pain passes Billy’s lips giving Brahms the opportunity to deepen it more.

Whatever it was keeping Billy subdued, and from participating to his fullest seems to be gone with the sealing of the kiss. He’s not about to be out done, let alone manhandled like this, it’s something Billy simply can’t handle.

“You-You s-slut.” The words tumble from his lips in the form of a small laugh as the kiss ends, it doesn’t seem to matter to Billy he’s just as aroused as the other man.

There is a layer of boundaries that need to be set, that both men don’t have the communication skills yet to set.

And Billy decides with his mind whirling in a mix panic and arousal to take the lead, because he knows if things were to progress to that point that he wouldn’t be able to top Brahms in the bedroom.

He pushes the other man back, by the stomach, his hand pressing against the curly hair covering almost every inch of Brahms’ body. Billy can’t help but feel a ping of inferiority, or of damaged masculinity. It’s not that he had no body hair, but what he did have was much sparser than this seeming monster of a ma he was sharing a shower with.

Brahms gets the hint though, unpinning Billy from the wall only after stealing another kiss. The distance is enough for Billy to do what he needs to do, kneeling beneath Brahms, knees touch the slick tiled floor as water continues to pelt down on him from above.

The first thing Billy takes note of, with a sense of pride, is that he’s longer than Brahms. Even close up, with the other mans dick inches from his face he can tell although it’s thicker, at the end of the day, Billy is longer.

He doesn’t get straight to work. Billy takes a moment and presses his face to Brahms’ fuzzy thigh grinning up at him.

“Excited boy…Naughty boy.”

His signature dirty talk only does more to turn Brahms on, the other man impatiently thrusting his hip forward, the tip of his cock rubbing against Billy’s cheek. Billy frowns, not appreciating the impatience at all. “Want Billy’s nasty mouth-“ Whatever it was Billy was going to say, he doesn’t get a chance to finish. It’s a moan from his own throat that interrupts him as Brahms thrusts his hips again, reaching down to grab onto Billy’s shoulder length locks pulling weakly on them.

And so, he quits his teasing, or really was it stalling, to take Brahms into his mouth.

It’s a new experience for both men.

Brahms who had no sexual experience outside of his own hand, and whose knowledge mainly came from books.

Billy who had experiences of his own but had never actually been on the giving end of a blow job before.

The result is a pleasurable albeit quick experience for both men. Billy is clumsy in his delivery, accidental teeth, and lots of drooling, still trying to speak despite the dick in his mouth, and Brahms who doesn’t help the situation by using Billy’s hair as a handle to simply move the man as he see’s fit.

When Brahms does finally cum it’s into Billy’s mouth.

He hadn’t though far enough ahead about that part, and in the moment, he’s not sure what to think of the salty taste flooding his senses. Some is immediately swallowed on instinct, the rest drops from the corners of his lips, training down his chest and mixing with the water to swirl into the drain below.

Billy all but yelps when Brahms lifts him to his feet. His first reaction to begin apologizing, but the actions die before actually leaving his lips as Brahms is kissing him again, seemingly unbothered by his own seed still on Billy’s damp face.

All the while his hands reach down to fondle at Billy.

In the nervous excitement of the situation, Billy had somehow forgotten about his own arousal. It’s not his first hand job (definitely won’t be his last), but Brahms’ much larger fist, and calloused hands.

For Billy what happens next is a bit of a blur. The next thing he knows he’s back in the bedroom only this time it’s him being tucked into bed, a kissed place on his forehead by the other man. He’s confused, and tired.

“Goodnight Billy.”

#Billy #Brahms #Billy Lenz #Brahms Heelshire #Billy x Brahms #Billy Lenz x Brahms Heelshire #The Boy #Black Christmas (1974)#my work

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aaronhart93-archive · 4 years

Text

fight club ll roman & aaron

Discord thread featuring: Aaron & @romanbeckett

Mentions: @shea-morgan @jayceelynd @davieslandon @themarissaharrison @alison-haynes

When: August 7-8th, 2020

Where: Roman’s apartment

Triggers: so much? mentions of fighting, bruising, use of pain medication, tiny argument, mentions of part childhood trauma, mentions of physical assault, nightmares, really fucking long too

Description: Roman and Aaron get home from Echo after they were assaulted, Roman babies him and showers him the next morning, and they gt into a little fight

Aaron.

Aaron was so relieved to finally get home, and it was nice nice that Jaycee came over to help them out. He was kinda of liking being babied like this. He was normally the one to be taking care of others so this was nice for a change. He was starting to feel a little better once the pain meds started kicking in. He rested his head on the pillow in his boyfriend's bed and pressed the ice pack to his cheek. This was going to hurt in the morning for sure.

Roman.

Roman was a definitely a nurturing soul. Aaron knew this about him. Everyone did. So of course now that Aaron was hurt, the manic need to care for him was in full swing. Thank god Jaycee had some meds for him, because Ro would have literally stooped down to buying them off someone if he needed to. He just didn’t want his boyfriend to feel any pain. “Hey. I brought some water.” He sat down the iced beverage beside the bed, and then crawled into his side so that he could lay down facing the other. He didn’t say anything else for now, instead just reaching out to gently rake his fingers along the side of Aaron’s temple.

Aaron.

Aaron opened his eyes when he heard Roman walk into the room for a moment, then closed them again, contently. "Thank you, baby." He mumbled, rolling over slightly to get comfortable. Aaron smiled to himself when he felt his boyfriend lay down next to him. Aaron's eyes were glued shut, he let out little hums as Ro rubbed his temples. Aaron didn't like getting assaulted, but he did like the treatment he got from Roman after the fact. "Hmm... feels good." He mumbled, reaching his hand across the bed to hold his hand out for Roman to take.

Roman.

As stupid as it probably was, Roman smiled at Aaron saying it felt good. If he could deliver even an ounce of relief, or good feeling to the other male right now, he was a happy man. He slipped his hand onto the offered one, squeezing it prior to bringing Aaron’s hand to his lips. “I love you. Superman.” He smirked, keeping the smaller’s hand close so that he could just hold onto him, and press his lips to it again.

Aaron.

Despite the shitty they had had and despite the fact that Aaron had a knife pulled on him, Aaron was actually really happy right now. Maybe it was just the pain meds he had taken, or maybe he was just so content in Roman's bed like this right now. He rolled his head to face Roman and opened his eyes. He gave him a genuine, crooked smile. He chuckled a little. "Ha, Ha. Superman." He mocked what Shea had called him mere hours ago. "I love you, Lois." He loved the feeling of Roman kissing his hand like that. His face faltered a little bit. "Are you okay?"

Roman.

Roman managed a snort when Aaron acted like that, calling him Superman with that goofy smile. He must really be feeling the pain pills, which was hilarious, and also adorable. His eyes darted over the other’s face when Aaron asked if he was okay, and then rolled over on his back for a moment to look at the ceiling. He splayed a hand across his stomach and sighed, thinking about the question, and every little thought in his head, fucked up or otherwise. “Yeah. I’m rattled, and will be for a few days, but I’m okay. Mostly jus’ because of him on you. I’ve never been so fucking angry in my life.”

Aaron.

Aaron frowned, watching his boyfriend's face as he spoke. He smiled lightly. He shouldn't have been smiling but he was. It was selfish really. "That's cute...you getting all hot and bothered like that over me." He joked, heavy eyelid falling up and down slowly. "But yeah. I'll probably be rattled for a little bit too and ser'ously...I'm sorry he said all of that to you. And that I swung. Gave him what he wanted. I should have just called security like I normally do...I was just so angry." He admitted, yawning a bit. His anger problems were enough already, but mixed with his need to protect that people he loved was enough to put him over the edge.

Roman.

“Aaron, I don’t blame you for hitting him. It was taking everything in me not to do it myself. You’re right though, it is what he wanted. Why, I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell he’s going through to make him act like that. He was so...” Ro shook his head while placing a hand in his hair, staring at the ceiling. “To have so much anger that you want a fight - the shit he said about money...I dunno, there’s a lot there.” Roman finally sighed as Aaron yawned once again. “You’re tired, babe. You should rest.” Lord knows one of them should.

Aaron.

Aaron felt validated by what Roman was saying. “Yeah, you’re right. I’d do it again too.” He just hated that Roman had to see him that way. But he wasn’t just going to stand there and do nothing. Aaron has nearly forgotten what Shea has said about money. Everything just happened so fast. Aaron took the ice pack off of his face and rolled over on his side to face Roman. “Okay. I love you, Ro.” He smiled, weakly.

Roman.

Ro watched as his boyfriend rolled over to look at him, smirking to himself while he looked over his face. “I love you, too.” Roman leaned in to press their lips together a few times, and then turned the lamp off. Usually, Ro didn’t have any issues sleeping. If anything, he fell asleep way too fast. But, tonight wasn’t one of those times. He was up most of the night on his phone, and pacing the living room. He went upstairs to look at the stars in the roof deck, and played a little pool with himself. When it was finally time to try and get a little sleep, he passed out next to Aaron for an hour or so, and laid their with his cheek smashed against the pillow, light wheezes leaving him as he fell deep into a dream. That’s when several men came into his thoughts, it wasn’t shea, it was the assholes from Chicago, hands around Aaron’s throat, squeezing the life out of him, feet kicking him, fists punching - but he couldn’t get to them. Every step seemed to take him back three more, and soon he was waking up yelling out in frustration.

Aaron.

Aaron hummed with contentment as his boyfriend left little pecks on his lips before he easily drifted off to sleep. He slept like a rock that night, completely unaware that Roman was up all night, pacing and worrying. It was most definitely the pain meds he was given that made him so easily slip into sleep. He was practically comatose. Nothing seemed to be able to wake Aaron until.... “Roman!” His heart sank to his stomach when he heard the taller’s screams. He sat up quickly, his jaw was screaming with pain but he ignored it. “Roman, Roman...” He put his hands on the other’s broad shoulders to try to calm him down. “What the hell...breath, baby.” He tried to sound calming, but his heart was beating out of his chest. “What happened?”

Roman.

Ro’s eyes snapped open when Aaron started calling his name, the hands on his shoulders grounding him enough to make him feel a little more seated in reality. He’d been dreaming, it wasn’t real, and Aaron was clearly fine. “Sorry...sorry.” Ro breathed out, closing his eyes, and breathing in, and out heavily through his nose. “Sorry.” He said yet again, wide eyes scanning his boyfriend’s face as he swallowed hard. “Nightmare.”

Aaron.

Aaron took several deep breaths and felt relief when Roman finally woke up. “Babe...” He blinked several times, looking over at him anxiously. He hurt. He hurt all over. Physically and emotionally. They had done nothing to deserve this. “D-Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, nervously. Des wakes up from nightmares all the time, but he had a feeling that Roman was fixating on what had happened that night and that it was much worse than one of Des’ nightmares.

Roman.

Roman immediately began shaking his head when Aaron asked if he wanted to talk about it. He really didn’t. Instead he just leaned in to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, and buried his face against his neck. He inhaled deeply, and ran his hands all over Aaron’s back. Ro was just glad he was okay, and he could touch him, physically feel that he was okay. “Sorry I scared you.”

Aaron.

Aaron frowned. He didn’t want Roman to keep stuff buried inside of him, like he had before. It just...wasn’t good for him and Aaron knew that. But he didn’t press the issue. Aaron just held him tightly, being careful around his jaw. “It’s okay.” Aaron kissed the top of his head and held him tightly. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. “I love you. Please sleep.” He begged, softly petting his curls. Like it was that simple. He was still a little loopy from the pain meds, but too worried to allow himself to drift back off to sleep.

Roman.

“I love you, too.” Ro nuzzled against his boyfriend, and squeezed an arm around his waist. He was so warm, and soft after sleeping. This was his favorite version of Aaron honestly, if he had to choose one. It was just so comforting, and he felt better just from this. “I only jus’ fell asleep an hour ago.” He admitted, voice muffled with his lips against Aaron’s chest.

Aaron.

Aaron took a deep breath through his nose, eyebrows furrowing slightly. It has concerned Aaron that Roman barely slept. He looked over on the nightstand to check the time on his phone. It was nearly 5 am. He couldn’t blame him though. If Aaron wasn’t so drugged up, he probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep either. “I got you. We’re safe.” He whispered, giving him another tight squeeze.

Roman.

Ro felt terrible that Aaron was having to comfort him, when he felt it should be the other way around. “Yeah.” Roman nuzzled his boyfriend’s chest again, and then kissed it. “Wait.” He pulled away reluctantly only to grab him some fresh water, and another pain pill. “It’s time for another. Here.” He offered both the pill, and the ice water to the smaller.

Aaron.

Aaron’s jaw was shooting still the pain was radiating all the way up his jaw to his head. God, was his head pounding. He couldn’t keep a tiny smile from growing across his face. It was so cute the way Roman was watching out for Aaron right now. “Thank you, baby.” He popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed it whole. Laying down on his back he opened his arms up for Roman to snuggle into him. “C’mere.”

Roman.

Ro at least felt better now that Aaron had another pill working, maybe that could keep him relaxed for now. He smirked when the smaller opened his arms up, and promptly crawled back into bed so he could snuggle up to his boyfriend once more. “I love you. So fucking much.” He mumbled through his once again squished cheek.

Aaron.

Aaron stared up at the ceiling for a brief moment, just breathing and worrying. Worrying about how this was going to affect Roman’s mental health and what the hell that dream was about. It sounded terrifying. It would be on his mind for a while. “I love you so much.” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. His baby was safe in his arms. That was all the mattered right now. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

Roman.

Ro was able to fall asleep within the next ten or so minutes, clinging to Aaron the entire time, which might not be the most comfortable thing in the world for the smaller, but he couldn’t help it. Ro just needed to keep holding onto his boyfriend, making sure he was okay, and knowing he was right here if Aaron needed anything. When they finally stirred, Ro rolled away from Aaron reluctantly so that he could shake a hand through his hair, and grab some clothes. “I’m gonna go get you some breakfast.” He informed his other half.

Aaron.

Jaycee’s magical pain pills had knocked him out once again in a matter of 20 minutes. Aaron needed a prescription of his own. Damn. They knocked them out so hard, he was barely even bother by romans larger body on top of him all night. Besides, he couldn’t let go. He just needed to hold him. The light peeking through the windows woke him up the next morning. He opened his eyes to his boyfriend getting dressed. “Okay...” he said, sleepishly. He reached his hand out. “Kiss me first.” He mused, giving him a crooked smile.

Roman.

Aaron was adorable. He could tell the man was really enjoying this, but only because he really needed to be taken care of for once. Of course Roman was just the man to do it. “Anythin’ you want.” He mused with a smirk while leaning down to press his lips to his boyfriend’s briefly, and then kissed his forehead as well. “I was thinking that place across the street with the really fluffy eggs and cinnamon bun oatmeal. That’ll be easy for you to chew.” He suggested while pulling on some skinny jeans.

Aaron.

The dumbest fucking grin appeared on Aaron's face after Ro kissed him. And the way Roman so thoughtfully considered how he might not be able to chew on hard foods today was fucking adorable. He was loving this. "Hmm...perfect." He cooed, rolling over on his side to watch his get dressed. "Your ass looks good in those jeans." He mumbled. Those pills clearly still had not worn off because Aaron could feel himself falling back asleep. He fell in and out of sleep while Ro was out. He finally felt like he was able to stay awake when the smell of the food Ro brought back for them instantly filled the room. He mouth watered. He didn't realize how hungry he was until just now.

Roman.

Ro snorted at the comment about his ass, shaking it a little for his boyfriend before he was taking off. He didn’t want to be gone super long, but of course Aaron decided he wanted ice cream as well, so Ro picked that up too. He finally got back to the apartment, and put away the ice cream prior to grabbing their coffee, and food to take to the bedroom with TV trays. “Breakfast in bed! Wakey wakey, eggs and bakeyyy.” Roman cooed as he got Aaron’s food positioned for him on the tray across his lap. “There’s orange juice, and coffee.”

Aaron.

Aaron literally could barely remember texting Ro to get him ice cream, he was so out of it. Maybe food would help. Aaron couldn’t tell if he should feel like a mental patient or a king as he was being served breakfast in bed like that. He sat up, practically drooling over all the food his boyfriend spoiled him with. He couldn’t help but chuckle at his cheeky wake up call. “Hmm. Coffee.” He hummed. That was just what he needed. “Thank you, Roman. Are you any better?” Probably a dumb question, but he wanted to check in.

Roman.

Ro nodded, and got his boyfriend set up with his coffee before he was climbing back into bed with his own breakfast. He’d gone for a light omelette, and of course his coffee, black, which was now cooled off enough for him to sip with no burnage. “I’m okay.” He answered Aaron, looking at his food as he did so. Maybe he was lying, maybe he was just willing it to be reality. Either way, he didn’t need Aaron worrying about him too. “How’re you feeling?”

Aaron.

Aaron tried to make eye contact with the older, but looked down at his food before he got the chance to, which made it hard for him to get a read on what his boyfriend was thinking. He sighed. "Yeah, I'm only okay too."He brought his hand to his jaw, that he was now starting to feel even more at the pills started leaving his system. "This hurts though, I won't lie. It's officially bruised." He told him, pointing to a faint blue and purple mark on his face. He poked the bruise lightly and winced. "Yep."

Roman.

Roman turned his head when Aaron mentioned his jaw hurting, his mouth turning down at the corners as he looked it over. He wished he could make it better somehow, take it all away, think of some kind of remedy that would poof it out of existence. He’d been googling earlier what he could do to help, even though he just found results he already knew. “We’ll just keep putting ice on it, and some ibuprofen to help the inflammation. Hopefully it’ll ease up soon.”

Aaron.

"I know..." He nodded. Aaron's ego was probably more bruised that his face. He'd do it all again if it meant protecting Roman, but he couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed about it all. That was his own club. What was that going to mean for his business if it ever got out? Did it already get out? Aaron needed to remember to check. It was the last thing he wanted to do now though. "I'm not worried about it. It's just a little annoying." Aaron started in on his food, letting a little bit of silence settle in the room before he spoke again. "So when I choke you during sex.." He began, chuckling at himself a bit, "Is that what that feels like?" He smiled wide. It was probably way too early to make a joke about this, but he needed to joke about this. It was like a coping mechanism for him.

Roman.

Roman sighed when Aaron asked his little question, trying not to smile even though he was struggling to hold it back. “I hate you.” He giggled, and then turned to look at his boyfriend. “In the moment, there’s no adrenaline of panic, which I think makes it unpleasant. Easy to freak out if it’s not planned.” He shook his head, and full on smirked. “I wouldn’t enjoy it if someone was trying to actually strangle me. Though, I do feel weird about making you do it now.” Ro shrugged, and took a bite of his food.

Aaron.

Aaron smiled slyly when he noticed that Roman was trying to keep a smile back and laughed shortly. “I had to.” He chuckled. Aaron shook his head and furrowed his brows. “No, I mean...we can take a break from that for a bit. I’m sure we’ll miss it soon enough.” He smirked back at his boyfriend then laughed. He stuffed his face with a forkful of scrambled eggs. “I guess I should text Alison and Marissa. and Landon. And let them know what happened.” He sighed. “They’d be mad if they found out through the grapevine.” He didn’t really want to explain what happened to everyone, but Alison and Marissa needed to know. And Landon deserved to know too.

Roman.

Ro continued to focus on his own food while Aaron talked, a little lost in his head, thinking about the night before, and clenching his jaw. He was still just so mad, and wanted revenge more than he ever had in his life. Roman wasn’t a vengeful person, he just wasn’t, but this wasn’t just someone talking some shit. Aaron had been caught in the crossfire, and that wasn’t okay. He turned his head when the other mentioned telling people though, knowing he was right, but it was in his nature to keep things to himself. “Yeah. I know you’re right.” He put down his fork, and grabbed his coffee instead. “I’ll text Landon if you wanna tell the rest.”

Aaron.

It was important to Aaron to let the people in his life know what was going on. It was important for him to be transparent with Des' mom and his business partner. Besides, he had a lot of business to discuss with Marissa as a result of last night's events. Aaron scanned his boyfriend's face, and watched his jaw tighten. He sighed. Putting his fork down, he looked over at Roman and frowned. "Ro..." His hand moved to his cheek. "Relax, please. I know it's easier said than done." He gently massage his cheek with the fat of his thumb, hopefully helping him relax his muscles a bit. "What can I do to make you feel even a little better?"

Roman.

Ro felt terrible that his boyfriend was feeling as if he needed to make Roman feel better, like Aaron wasn’t the one who was attacked. He turned to look at the other male, leaning into his hand in the process. Ro lifted his own hand to place it on top of Aaron’s, holding it against his face firmly. “Nothing. I’m sorry, I’ll be okay, I promise. Last night, my nightmare was those guys who attacked me in Chicago, but they were beating you up instead.” He admitted, even surprising himself that he would be that vulnerable. He wasn’t used to opening up like this, it was something that always drove Jaycee insane in their relationship. He always wanted to bury things, and pretend they didn’t happen instead. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Aaron.

Aaron was the injured one, the one who had been attacked. Yet he still felt like he needed to protect Roman and do anything in his power to make him feel a little more at ease. If that was even possible. It was just the role that Aaron always took on and he couldn't turn it off. Aaron frowned, and his heart sank to his stomach. "Oh." Aaron's eyes fell. That made his whole body hurt. "I'm here...I'm okay. We're both okay. Des is okay." He assured him. He was at least a little relieved that Roman felt like he could open up to him like that. "Thank you for telling me." He met his eyes again and forced a smile.

Roman.

Ro knew what Aaron was saying, was true. They were all okay, ultimately. Still. “Yeah.” He nodded, unsure if he really deserved a thank you for that. Ro always kept things like that to himself because he never wanted to seem like someone seeking pity. He didn’t want attention from things, and situations that made him sad. That’s why he never EVER talked about what happened to him as a child in detail. He didn’t want people to feel sorry for him, or to have to think about something so fucking awful. “I love you. I’ll be right back.” He gave Aaron a small smirk, and then grabbed his coffee cup to shuffle into the kitchen for some more. He just needed a second to collect himself, so he could stop bringing down the mood so damn much.

Aaron.

Aaron's face twisted and he bit his bottom lip. That wasn't a very convincing 'yeah'. There was still a fucking pit in his stomach. On one hand, he was glad that Roman was opening up to to him and telling him about his dream. He knew that was a big step. On the other hand, it worried him so much; how this was going to affect him in the long run. Aaron's eyes darted as Roman got up. "I love you...too..." He said, watching him walk away. He thought about following him and telling him that what he was feeling was alright. That Aaron himself was terrified too. That he never had to hid what he was feeling or thinking from Aaron to spare his feelings. But he gave him his space. Just for a moment. He felt so nauseous though; that pit in his stomach hadn't gone away.

Roman.

Roman made his way back to the bedroom as soon as he had his coffee, and settled into the bed again beside his boyfriend. He hated coming off vulnerable, especially around Aaron when the man needed him the most. He needed to stay level headed, and focus. “Good?” He gestured to his boyfriend’s food before pulling his coffee back up to his lips like he’d never even mentioned his nightmare.

Aaron.

Aaron anxiously looked at his boyfriend as he returned to their bedroom with more coffee in hand. He watched sit back down next to him and sip his coffee, his eyes never left his face. He set his fork down and stopped eating. “Roman...” he began, completely ignoring his question. That pit was still in his stomach. “Roman, have you thought about what I said? About seeing someone?” He asked, raising his brow. He wasn’t good at these conversations but he was willing to make himself a little uncomfortable if it meant helping Roman.

Roman.

Ro kind of froze a bit when Aaron said his name, and then asked him once again if he’d thought about seeing someone. He swallowed, and then picked his fork up just to have something to do with his hand. He turned it around, and scraped it against his eggs. He didn’t know how long he sat there silent, big he just had no idea what to say. The idea of seeing a counselor freaked him out so much. He didn’t want to talk about what he’d been through. He didn’t want to discuss the details. “Not really, no.” He answered honestly.

Aaron.

Aaron chewed on his lip nervously, still scanning Ro's face even as he picked at his food. "Okay..." He nodded a few times, and sighed. A few brief moments of silence slipped past them before he spoke up again. "It's completely your choice. And I won't feel any type of way about whatever you choose, but if it helps in your decision making...I think you should. I'd get you the best one in the city too." Aaron was being a little bit of hypocrite. Alison had been telling him to get into grief counseling for months. He picked up to the phone to call so many times, but put it down every time. Lord knows, he has years of unresolved grief surrounding the death of his father that had just kept building on top of each other.

Roman.

Ro just closed his eyes when Aaron mentioned wanting to get him the best counselor in the city, which just made him feel a little crazy. He wasn’t mad, or annoyed at Aaron. The aggravated sensation was for himself, and the situation. “Am I not handling it well...?” He asked while turning to look at his boyfriend, trying to figure out what he’d done to make Aaron feel this concerned. “Last night was hard, but I’ll be fine.”

Aaron.

Aaron could tell by the look on Roman's face that he had pinched a nerve. He looked down at his food and began eating again, suddenly too embarrassed to make eye contact with the taller. "N-no...I think you're reacting like anyone would. I just...I guess wanted to put it out there. But..I won't bring it up again." He sighed and shoved his face with a huge forkful of eggs.

Roman.

Dammit. Roman really couldn’t stay upset around Aaron, not when he acted like that. He looked like a kicked puppy, and Ro felt like the biggest fucking asshole. “Babe. I’m not upset with you for asking.” He assured his boyfriend while reaching to run his hand over the other male’s back. “I know you’re worried about me, and want what’s best. I’m jus’....I don’t know if I can talk about...it.” He couldn’t even say the words.

Aaron.

"I'm sorry." He said, once he finally swallowed all the food he had shoved in his mouth. His hand on his back was comforting. He took a deep breath in and out through his nose. "I do worry about you." He admitted. "I know it's one of those things that'll get worse before it gets better. And if you're not ready to talk about anything, then that's completely your choice." He repeated. "The offer is there if you're ever ready."

Roman.

“Don’t be sorry.” Roman begged, because he really, really didn’t want Aaron to feel bad about this. He understood why Aaron would want him to do counseling, get some help. Ro wished so badly he could do that for him, and for himself. “I jus’...I feel so...” he closed his eyes, and moved his hand back to himself. “I feel so dirty.” Roman admitted with a shaky breath, tears now breaking in his eyes. It always came back to his childhood issues. Always. Every single one of his insecurities, and flaws. His mother, the one person who was supposed to protect and love him the most. He’d trusted her, even when he felt uncomfortable, or scared. That was a hard thing to get over, even if he’d ended up adopted by parents who he knew loved him.

Aaron.

Aaron pressed his lips together and just nodded slowly, giving him a bit of a blank stare. Dirty? Aaron didn’t quite understand. He probably never would understand all the thing he’d been through. He watched little tears well in his eyes. He reached over to squeeze his knee. Aaron just needed to touch him. To let Roman know that he was here. “I could tell you that you’re not, but i know that it won’t do much.” His eyes dropped. He was a little surprised that Roman was admitting that to him, but he was happy that he was at least opening up to him a little. He should have expected that what happened last night would trigger things like this. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought this up at all.

Roman.

Roman was used to people not knowing what to say. In his household growing up, it wasn’t ever something that was mentioned. His parents thought that if he never talked about it, then he would eventually forget. There had been many things he’d blocked out, like his sister, and a few details, but he never forgot the really dark shit. It haunted him. Maybe not every day, but it always lingered. “It’s okay. I know this isn’t something easy to respond to.” He turned to look at his boyfriend while placing a hand over Aaron’s on his knee. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Aaron.

“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed his boyfriend’s shoulder, being careful not to press his bruise jaw too hard again his broad shoulder. “He trusted him. Of course he was still worried. Of course. But he trusted that Roman knew what was best for him. He put his chin on the other’s shoulder and looked up at him. He finally smiled. “I love you.”

Roman.

Ro turned his head to kiss Aaron’s temple, just wanting them to move on for the sole purpose that he didn’t want the other to worry anymore. “I love you too, Clark.” He smiled, and then cranes even further so he could catch Aaron’s lips, and kiss him softly a couple of times. “Now, eat your breakfast young man. Then we’ll shower.”

Aaron.

Aaron leaned his chin on his boyfriend's shoulder, looking up at him with big blue eyes. His heart filled up when Roman told him he loved him and called him by that name. "Okay.." he gave him a big, genuine smile. He turned towards his food and took a few more bites. A shower with Roman was just what he needed. Something to just be close with him. No matter how hard the past 12 hours had been, Aaron knew that this incident actually brought them closer together. That was the one good thing to come out of this. He was thankful for that at least.

Roman.

Those eyes. They were enough to deter from any negative thought. Ro always had a weakness for eyes anyway, and these baby blues...sheesh. He smirked when Aaron did as he was told, watching the man eat a few more bites before following suit. Ro needed to eat as well, and now that he was in a better mood, he would. After cleaning up, Roman got Aaron into the shower, grateful that the shower in his master was big enough to comfortably accommodate both of them. The smaller didn’t need help bathing, he wasn’t immobile, but Ro was extra, so of course he was handling his boyfriend with car, and helping him bathe. “Relax.” He said close to Aaron’s ear while he took the shampoo on his hands, and began massaging it into his lover’s damp hair.

Aaron.

Aaron turned on the shower, letting the water runt though his fingertips as he made sure the water the the perfect temperature — not too hot but just hot enough. Of course, Aaron did what he was told when his boyfriend whispered in his ear. “Yes. Sir.” He closed his eyes and rolling his head back on his shoulder, just enjoying the feeling in his favorite person’s fingertip tuning through his hair and massaging his scalp. “Fuck...that feels amazing.” He cooed, leaving his head back even more and letting the hot water run over his face.

Roman.

shit. Aaron calling him sir did a little something to him, because even though he’d been the other’s sub for the entirety of their relationship, that didn’t mean Roman didn’t still have that other side to him, curious to come out. “Good boy.” He teased, a wicked smirk on his face while he massaged Aaron’s scalp, and then dropped his hands down to his boyfriend’s broad shoulders. He thought about how much he loved them while he dug his thumbs into the tense muscles, using his skills in Thai massage to work out the knots. He rubbed around the tight spots, working on them carefully until he felt them ease up.

Aaron.

For once in his adult life, Aaron was the one being take care of. He could just relax Roman always knew all the right places to touch him. He loved Ro’s massages; his hands were fucking magical. His mouth gaped open slightly. He just stood their; reveling in the moment. He let out several deep moans. He tried to stifle them, but boyfriend’s fingertip digging into his skin made that nearly impossible. “Babe.” He mused. He wanted to badly to turn to face him to kiss him, but he wanted to wait this out just a little longer.

Roman.

Roman was smiling wide to himself, so glad that Aaron was enjoying this so much. He deserved it, and honestly, Ro would do this for him every night if he wanted him to. These reactions were so worth it. “Feel good?” He moved in to brush his lips against the side of Aaron’s face, down near his ear as a hand dropped over the smaller’s shoulder, to splay out across his chest. “I love you.” Roman whispered, other arm now snaking around his boyfriend to pull him close. He just wanted to hold him for a minute, feel his heartbeat, that he was alive, and okay, and not going anywhere. Just both of them in the moment, where no one could get to them.

Aaron.

Fuck, maybe Aaron should start getting into more fights. I’d he was going to get this treatment every time. This felt god damn amazing. What had Aaron actually done to have deserved such an amazing human being that he could call his partner? He didn’t think he was that great of a person, so why was he lucky enough to get Roman? “Mhmm...so good, Ro.” He sighed out. A shiver shot down his spine when Ro go let close to his ear and whispered to him. His head fell back on Roman’s shoulder when he brought him in closely. “I love you.” Aaron repeated, almost breathlessly as their bodies pressed together. Despite what had happened last night, Aaron felt so safe right now with Roman. This was the most relaxed he’d felt in a while.

Roman.

Ro really strived to make sure everyone in his life was happy, and taken care of. It was engrained in him focus on others, keep everyone happy, make sure they have what they need. He was going going going going, and it’s almost selfishly what he ran off of. It was his fuel, and now Aaron was so high on that list. He lathered up some soap on a loofa before touching it to his boyfriend’s abdomen, running it in circles across his skin while pressing his lips sweetly to the side of Aaron’s face.

Aaron.

There were a lot of misconceptions about Aaron. He had been portrayed as a greedy, narcissistic asshole who didn't care about anyone but himself. Maybe at one point, that was what he was trying to portray to the world. And, yes, that was true when it came to his professional life and career. He couldn't deny it. But when it came to the people he loved...there was nothing he wouldn't do for them. If Aaron was given a chance to redo last night at Echo, the only thing he would do differently would be stepping in sooner -- even if he knew Shea was going to pull that weapon out on him. "I feel like a fucking king." He whispered as the steam thickened around them,

Roman.

Ro smirked to himself when Aaron said he felt like a king, getting that familiar swoop in his belly, because that’s exactly what he wanted to hear. It’s what he was going for, and what he always wanted to strive for. “You are a king, Clark.” Ro said playfully, and grabbed his boyfriend to turn him around, and get him seated on the perfectly nice marble clad shower bench behind them. He once again soaped up the loofah, getting ready to work on each of his boyfriend’s limbs, but not before he grabbed his bottle of lavender oil. “Okay. Inhale.” He gently waved the bottle under the man’s nose while he used his other hand to slowly soap up across his chest, and down his right arm with the loofah.

Aaron.

The biggest fucking grin spread across his face when Roman called him a king. He knew he was just playing around, but there were times Aaron did feel like the king of this fucking city. Even though he was injured, was definitely one of those times — he had the perfect daughter and the most perfect boyfriend. He really felt on top of the world. Aaron sat down and looked up at him. He did was he was told and sniffed the oil. It made his insides instantly relax and his head feel ten times lighter on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and leaned against the marble wall of the shower, pretty much just going limp while his boyfriend soaped him up.

Roman.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked in his usual low, raspy London drawl. His eyes were fixed on Aaron as he stayed crouched down, getting every inch he could reach of his boyfriend covered in suds. Of course he was using his favorite foamy body soap too, it smelled like strawberries, with a hint of vanilla. “Alright, babe. Time for a rinse.” He giggled, because he knew he was just being ridiculous at this point. But, he grabbed the detached shower head, and aimed it at Aaron, away from his face of course, to gently get him rinsed off.

Aaron

“You have magic hands, Lois.” He rasped. His eyes opened and stayed fixated on his boyfriend’s gorgeous face, even as he craned his neck for Ro to rinse him with the shower head. Maybe this was ridiculous, but Aaron was enjoying this way too much to care. “You take such good care of me.” He hummed. The hot water and the way the soap slid down his back felt so good on Aaron’s skin. “Thank you.” He whispered.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

“I definitely like to pretend like they’re magic.” Roman chuckled, and then finally reached for Aaron’s hands so that he could pull the man to his feet. “It’s my pleasure.” He winked prior to turning the smaller around to rinse off his back. “Okay, let me wash up real quick, and we’ll be done.” Ro turned to wet his hair, dropping his head back with his front facing Aaron while he ran his fingers through his growing curls.

Aaron.

Aaron let Roman pull him up like he needed assistance — he didn’t but it was fun pretending like he did. The businessman turned to face his boyfriend to watch his shampoo his hair. He looked at him and smirked, leaning in to kiss his shoulders and his chest as he shampooed his hair, knowing he was probably about to get a mouthful of soap and water but he couldn’t care less about that right now. “What did I do to deserve you?” He hummed on his skin.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Ro hummed at the feeling of his boyfriend’s lips at his chest, satisfied by the sensation of his light scruff, and warm mouth. He tipped his head back down when he heard Aaron ask what he did to deserve him, the lightest remnants of a smirk on his lips as he looked over the businessman. “I could ask the same about you.” Ro reached to place his hands on Aaron’s shoulders, thumb swiping across the base of his neck. “I love being with you. Everythin’ about it. Des, all of it.”

Aaron.

Aaron tilted his head up ever so slight to meet Roman’s eyes. “Roman...” He began. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my fucking life.” He admitted. “Seriously. Despite all the bullshit that’s happened. You’re so worth it. And when I think there’s no possible way I could fall more in love with you, you do something that proves that to be very untrue.” He confessed, cupping his cheek and stroking his chiseled cheekbone with his thumb.

Roman.

Ro wasn’t expecting Aaron to get so real with him, and raw. Not that Aaron wasn’t sweet, and that they didn’t speak to eachother like this ever. His words were just...it was everything he could have ever wanted to hear from someone. Who didn’t want those romantic words cited, the intense love sonnets written in old books, the heavy lyrics from a really fucking good song. It was such a good feeling, but an even more exceptional feeling when it was someone saying how they felt about you. “I feel the same way, Aaron.” Ro reached to hold onto the other’s wrist. “You’re worth all of it. What we have is worth it. Yeah?”August 10, 2020

Aaron.

Aaron grinned. Roman made him do that a lot. His heart was so full knowing that he felt the same way. Aaron had really fucked up his past relationships and he was determined not the do the same with this one. He couldn’t ever see himself doing something that would mess this up. It was too important to him. He’d fought too hard for Roman and he wasn’t going to let him go. “Yeah...” He muttered, giving a peck on the temple. He looked back over at him a gave him a cheesy grin, cheeks flushing a bit. His face literally started hurting; he was smiling to wide.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman loved how much Aaron was smiling. He didn’t think he’d ever seen him smile that much actually. He finished bathing, and then got them both dried off before he was changing out the bed sheets. “Alright. Back in bed.” He ushered his boyfriend, giving the other man another pill with a snack when it was time. Ro crawled back under the sheets himself, sighing at how good the clean sheets felt on his skin. “How’re you feeling?” He rolled over to face his boyfriend.

Aaron.

Aaron slipped on a pair of boxers and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror as Roman changed out the bed sheets. He took a long look at the bruise that was slowly but surely forming on his face. He touched around the tender skin a bit and winced in pain. “Fuck...” He whispered to himself. He tried to shake it off and brushed his teeth quickly, walking back into the bedroom and keeping a straight face. Aaron shook his hand out in front of him, refusing the pill. “That’ll knock me out again, babe. I have a feeling I’m going to have to do some damage control today and I can’t miss a beat. Can you just hand me the Ibuprofen?” He asked, clearing his throat. He slid down into the sheets next to Roman. “Better.” He said with a soft sigh. “That shower really worked wonders.” He mused, smiling softly.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

“Yeah, babe. Of course.” He sat down the pain pills, and then went rummaging through the medicine cabinet for his ibuprofen. Once again, Aaron was more than capable of taking this himself, but Ro administered the medicine for him anyway. He smirked when the other said the shower worked wonders, a massive relief melting over him. “Good. I was hoping it would. It always makes me feel better, too.” He reached for his boyfriend’s hand, and kissed his knuckles gently. “Don’t overdo it today...okay?”

Aaron.

"Thank you." He smiled. He pulled out his phone and anxiously scrolled through his news feed, scanning through every local news outlet to see if the story had broken. He couldn't take this type of bad publicity right now. Especially with Alison's new album coming out...she'd be announcing her pregnancy soon too and he didn't want this to negatively affect her either. Aaron locked his phone when he boyfriend re entered the room. "Thank you." He repeated. He let out a soft sigh as he felt his boyfriend's lips on the his fingers. "I can't promise anything, but I will try. Want to watch something and just relax before people realize what happened and start harassing us?" He chuckled.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Ro knew that Aaron was buried in his phone the second he walked out of the room, but he understood why he was nervous. It sucked being in the limelight, not being able to go through anything in life without the threat of everyone knowing about it. “I think that sounds great.” Roman agreed, and then moved to scoot up against his boyfriend, putting his arm behind his head so that Aaron could cuddle against him. Gross.

Aaron.

"What we watchin'?" He asked, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels. Aaron flipped his phone over. He was going to try to ignore it, but he still put it on vibrate. He jumped to check his phone every time he got a notification. So far so good. There was still this huge pit in his stomach...no matter how hard he tried to relax. His anxiety about his bar, mixed with still being shaken up from last night, mixed with the pain on his cheek were not a good mix. He just needed to keep his shit together. For Roman.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman noticed the way Aaron was frantically checking his phone, making it hard to really focus on anything else. Aaron being paranoid about this was only making Roman paranoid, and now he was biting at his nails. God, it was such a nasty habit, and he’d managed to avoid it for so long. “Ehm, I dunno I always pick. Whatever y’want.” He shrugged, and nibbled on his thumb anxiously while Aaron flipped through the channels.

Aaron.

Aaron just turned on the first movie he found; The Wolf of Wall Street. It was already half way over, but Aaron had seen this movie too many times to count anyway. "Hey...does he remind you of me?" He joked, looking over at his boyfriend and giving him a smug smile. That smile faded when he noticed Roman biting at his nails. "Stop." He said, grabbing the hand he was biting at and intertwining their fingers together in an attempt to give him something else to do with his hands.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman was half paying attention to the television, so when Aaron asked if Leo’s character reminded him of Aaron, he turned to look at his boyfriend with furrowed brows. He wasn’t able to answer anyway before Aaron was telling him to stop, and grabbed his hand away from his mouth. “Sorry. Jus’ making me nervous checking your phone so much.” He admitted transparently.

Aaron.

Aaron shook his head. "No, I'm sorry." He reached to grab his phone. "It's just that --" He scrolled through his phone to find the picture he had found of him, Ali and Roman from the night before. "We got papped when he walked in with Ali." He angled his phone so that his boyfriend could see. "I don't care about what people say about me. I care about what they say about Alison and my club though." He admitted, swallowing hard. "Things can go south in this city...fast."(edited)

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman just closed his eyes for a moment, and rubbed at his head while Aaron talked about reputation, and caring what people said about Alison, or his club. "Aaron, we were attacked. It has nothing to do with Ali, or your club, we could have died - you could have died." He looked over at his boyfriend. "If people can't get that, then fuck them. Who cares? It's not our fault we had a knife pulled on us."

Aaron.

"No, I know it's jus'..." Aaron blinked a few times. Roman was right, of course. Realistically, people weren't going to react negatively. He was just so worried about the club's reputation. His reputation. If Aaron got assaulted in his own club, how were other people going to feel safe in his club if the owner wasn't? His heart hurt a bit when he told him that he could have died -- it triggered him a bit actually. He shifted uncomfortably, still holding his boyfriend's hand next to them. Keep it together. "Yeah..."

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman squeezed his boyfriend’s hand as he seemed to trail off, trying to gauge what he might be feeling right now. He looked so down, like maybe Ro had said something wrong, and that made him feel a little sick. He was being too harsh, and needed to let Aaron do whatever he felt he needed to do to deal with this. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Aaron.

“No, you’re right.” He admitted, looking straight ahead at the television but leaned his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Objectively, Roman was right. Aaron knew that. There were just so many things to be worried about that were flying around in his brain and put a pit in his stomach. And thinking about how last night could have ended so much worse made that pit even bigger. “I should go in.” He finally said. “And text Bea. I need to make a statement or something.”

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman thought they were on the same page here, that things were going to be okay, and they could just take it easy today. It really felt like Aaron was finally understanding, until he suddenly spoke up that he should go in, and text Bea. Ro didn't want to get upset about it, he really didn't, but his boyfriend's priorities were so fucked up. Not only was Roman worried about Aaron after last night - and had done nothing but completely dote, and baby him since it happened, but now he wasn't even going to stay and...take care of Ro by just being there. Roman didn't exactly have the best night either, and he didn't really want Aaron running off and abandoning him. "Seriously?" He asked the other with somewhat of an edge to his voice. "No one is even saying anythin' bad, and you have to make a statement right now?"

Aaron.

Aaron was a little shocked by his tone of voice. His head came off his shoulder and he looked over at the taller, furrowing his brows. He didn’t expect Roman to understand how bad press could ultimately ruin his career. “Yes.” He said, shortly. Even though he really didn’t need to make a statement right away. Theoretically that could wait until Monday. Until things had calmed down and Aaron and Roman could maybe start moving on from last nights events. He wanted to lay in bed with Roman all day and just be with him but his anxiety was eating him alive. He shook his head and rubbed his temple. “I’m sorry — “ he admitted. There was still a hint of annoyance in his voice, but he was trying to calm down. “I won’t go now...but I do at least have to go to my office at home and do a little work.” No. He had to do a lot of work. But he could get away with a little until Monday.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman just stared down at his lap when the other said he wouldn’t go now, though it didn’t matter, because he was still planning on going to do a little work. He just sighed, not wanting to be annoyed, but he couldn’t help how he felt. “Okay.” He flipped through the channels, mindlessly looking over each option, not actually caring what he settled on. Now he was just in a bad mood, and didn’t care what they did, or watched at this point.

Aaron.

Aaron licked his lips, and scanned his boyfriend's face for a moment. He was clearly upset. He opened his mouth to tell him that he would stay in bed with him all day, but he wasn't sure he could make that promise. Aaron was still upset, quite frankly. Upset that this whole thing had to happen to begin with. He kind of just, sunk down into the bed and quietly watched Roman flip through the channel. He didn't let go of his hand though. He couldn't.

Roman.

Ro didn’t like being at odds with Aaron. It very rarely happened, and it was always over as soon as it started. He didn’t know what to say, or do here though. Roman just settled on some cooking show, as he was trying to learn anyway, and then tossed the remote on the bed. He glanced at his boyfriend from the corner of his eye, but still didn’t say anything. All he could think about was the fact that Aaron couldn’t be any more anxious to get out of here and go to the office. “Go ahead if you want to go.” Ro said in a flat tone.

Aaron.

Aaron kind of just stared blankly at the show he had chosen. He could sense the tension in the air and fucking hated it. Aaron was about to chose his career over his boyfriend like the greedy son of a bitch every made him out to be. He sat up, finally letting go of his hand and turning towards him. “I don’t want to go. I have to go. Just for a little bit. Then I’ll come right back.” He pecked his cheek. “I’m sorry.” He said, as his slipped out of bed to rummage through his boyfriend’s close to find a pair of sweatpants and a t shirt to wear back to his pent.

𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ✩

Roman was hoping, like, to the point of giving Aaron the benefit of the doubt, that he would turn down the offer. It was a test, anyone would know that, and yet. “Oh.” Ro watched as Aaron tore away from him like he’d been dying to, and rummaged through his clothes. He couldn’t really believe this was happening, but he sure as fuck wasn’t gonna be the man to stay. If he wanted out of here so bad, then Roman would just sit here alone, and deal with it.

#discord #roman

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ahsterism-a · 4 years

Text

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

repost, don’t reblog

BASICS.

full name. steven quartz cutie-pie demayo diamond universe ( it’s on his medical papers ) pronunciation. stee-ven uni-verse ( im not doing that whole thing ) nickname. schtu-ball, steve-o ( and various other versions with “steve” ), rose, pink gender. male (he/him) height. 5′6″ age. 16/17 ( suf confuses me and i’m too lazy to make an actual decision whoops ) zodiac. leo spoken languages. english

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair color. dark brown eye color. black skin tone. pale body type. thicker, stocky build-- has the ability to shapeshift/alter his form, which has recently manifested in magic swelling that is uncontrollably triggered accent. american voice. has grown deeper than before as he has physically aged, still tends to reach a higher pitch sometimes, or can grow even deeper typically with anger/shapeshifting. amazing singing voice. dominant hand. right ( i think most recently shown when he draws in In Dreams ), however can work with both posture. typically upright/mostly straight, grows slouchier depending on emotions scars. no visible external scars due to his abilities healing all of his injuries. however, there is a visible history of numerous fractures/breaks across his skeleton, which manifest in jagged lines where the injuries took place. tattoos. NA birthmarks. NA most noticeable feature(s). gem embedded in his naval, pink glow

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. beach city, delmarva hometown. beach city birth weight. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ birth height. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ manner of birth. steven was mostly born naturally, given his organic half. however, upon giving birth to him, his mother died when she passed her gem half onto him. he acquired her gem and powers as a result. first words. definitely something to do with greg (dad/dada/etc) siblings. none parents. greg universe, rose quartz/pink diamond parental involvement. rose died when steven was created, which obviously resulted in her absence for his entire life. greg primarily raised steven from his birth until he moved in with garnet, amethyst, and pearl. throughout his younger years, steven lived in the van with greg, and did not go to school, see a doctor, or live the typical life of a human child, however greg was very involved in raising steven, only backing out when things had to do with “gem stuff.” garnet, amethyst, and pearl also served as steven’s guardians, and were protective of him/involved in his life, but also when he was younger, frequently left him behind while going on missions because he was not ready.

ADULT LIFE.

occupation. crystal gem, became the “savior of the universe” following change your mind. spent two years back and forth from earth, homeworld, and various planets helping to liberate colonies and bring upon era 3. also involved in the making of little homeworld, and ran little homeschool up until dropping the position after the off colors’ graduation. while running the school, he was in charge of introducing the new, uncorrupted gems to it, healing any cracked gems, managing various lessons/schedules, etc. close friends / family. greg universe, rose quartz, garnet, amethyst, pearl, connie maheswaran, lapis, peridot, other crystal gems ( has befriended many gems and people in beach city, but is drifting away from most of these relationships ) relationship status. single, with a big very obvious crush on connie financial status. following mr. greg, where his dad was granted a large sum of money, they have had a stable, high financial status driver’s license. he drives frequently, however he does not have a license due to being undocumented criminal record. was previously believed to be rose quartz by all of homeworld, which led to an official accusation of shattering pink diamond, and getting put on trial before blue and yellow diamond. he managed to escape, but maintained this record. once the truth was revealed that rose and pink were the same person, he was absolved of this charge. other than that, while not recorded ( and reversed ), he shattered jasper. vices. steven tends to constantly look for others’ problems to solve, as a result of constantly having to fix things for everyone else and not knowing who he is without something to fix, which can lead towards him being incredibly pushy with it and ultimately negatively affecting the situation. after countless traumatic experiences that he repressed for years, he struggles with controlling his anger, and has grown more prone to outbursts-- this has led to endangering himself or others with his newfound destructive powers. he frequently refuses help and pushes himself away from people, now believing that he will end up hurting them.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. i can’t choose just take my whole playlist hobbies to pass time. music ( singing/playing various instruments ), video games, tv, movies mental illnesses. C-PTSD due to ongoing childhood trauma, depression, anxiety physical illnesses. aforementioned cracks in his skeleton, other than that, none left or right-brained. right-brained fears. hurting others, abandonment/being left behind, lingering fears triggered by past experiences ( ex. getting his gem pulled out by white diamond ), no longer being needed, himself self-confidence level. varies quite a lot throughout the series. is outwardly shown to be quite positive and optimistic throughout most of SU, however early on he doubts his abilities frequently, and especially through the diamond days arc, he questions and doubts about his own identity. during change your mind, he solidifies a strong sense of self love and confidence, however this has wavered throughout the events of SUF. his confidence in himself has depleted to the point where he is scared of his own abilities and destructive powers, and thinks very negatively of himself. vulnerabilities. he doesn’t know how to exist without having something to fix. he constantly offers help, however doesn’t seek or accept help from others due to both a belief that he is only supposed to help others, and an unwillingness to open up to that sort of change. his mother is a very sensitive topic, considering his very complicated feelings towards her. his mental state is extremely vulnerable at the moment as he finally grapples with his past.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. romantic orientation. panromantic preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch ; steven has a hard time accepting comfort and support, often closing himself off and claiming he’s fine, twisting the situation so he can try and help the other person. he is constantly offering comfort and emotional help. and although it is difficult for him to accept the same, once he does, he appreciates the comfort and support. preferred sexual role. submissive | dominant | switch libido. turn on’s. kindness, a genuine want to spend time with him, someone he really clicks with, a meaningful friendship, the ability to joke around and laugh with someone, feeling happy with them even when things aren’t going great turn off’s. cruelty, targeting someone he loves love language. super affectionate-- lots of physical contact. hugs, all kinds of kisses, cuddles, the whole deal, he loves love and loves showing people that he loves them. he tends to be quite “extra” when planning special things, either picking out meaningful gifts or setting up grander, impulsive gestures ( ex. the proposal to connie ). relationship tendencies. steven has never been in an official romantic relationship-- the closest is his bond with connie ( however he believes he likely ruined that after together forever/growing pains ). however, in a romantic relationship, he would as said before be very affectionate and caring. he would always make time for the other, write them songs, set up fun things for them whether it’s a lot smaller or holds more weight. however, he also does not know how romance works at all, which would result in him being quite clueless, and making decisions that might seem questionable to someone else. he’ll get very red and flustered upon receiving the same affection he tries to give back, though. as for other types of relationships, he tends to make friends quite easily, and fervently cares for everyone around him. he feels as if a lot of his relationships are drifting away from him, though, and has taken to isolating himself/lashing out instead of properly dealing with his problems.

tagged by: @pristinette !! tagging: steal it from me uwu

#steven universe. headcanons / i thought i was ready to move on and not have her hanging over my head anymore #(oof this be LONG)#(i lov memes like this tho thank u !!)#long post #long post tw

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antique-teacups · 5 years

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a liar and a protector pt. 2

word count: 2k

It hurt to feel. The lie was a hollow point sent right through your chest. Left to pick up the pieces in a town the world had forgotten. It had been two weeks since you left LA, but it felt like a life time ago. In the days closely following, you thought you might implode with the emotional trauma you were sorting through. The vlog squad reached out to you, each apologizing and wishing you would come back home. Home? Was LA home anymore when the person you loved the most there crushed your heart?

You didn’t respond back to most of them. Jason was the only you were speaking to out of the group. You knew none of them were to blame expect David himself, but they were are still a reminder of the fresh wound. Part of you wondered if your emotional isolation was a form of self-punishment. Sticking your fingers in the bullet hole to remember how to feel.

You wished you could feel anything expect the sucking pain in your chest. It climbed from your stomach to your throat. Settling, suffocating. It was like feeling hollow and heavy at the same time. A lump you couldn’t swallow, blocking your breath.

Your mom was worried, but who wouldn’t be when their twenty-year-old daughter shows up unexpectedly, adorned with a stricken look on her face. You gushed as soon as you were ushered into the house you grew up in. David had only visited once, it was before you two had started dating. You could still picture him standing in the tiny entry way, a small smile on his face as your siblings bombarded you with stories of your time gone.

You had taken refugee in your childhood bedroom for a couple of days before entering everyday life again. Once a week passed, you put your phone in your desk drawer and left it there. He wouldn’t stop texting, but the rest of them had gotten the hint you weren’t responding.

“Please, talk to me. Let me explain.”

“Jason won’t tell me where you went. Just tell me you are okay.”

“I love you.”

The last one stung the most, which is what prompted you to leave it in the drawer. You needed to get your head on straight before you talked to him. What would you say? That you forgive him for being so weak. That it wasn’t his fault. As much as you wanted to pin the whole thing on Rylee, you knew that wasn’t fair. He was equally at fault.

Ergo, here you sat on the hood your beat down blue Subaru Outback as the snow sunk slowly to the ground. You parked out on a back road, the traffic was non-existent. You could have been the last person on earth and not have known. The temperature was just barely above freezing, but you didn’t notice. The pain reminded you this was real. Just like when your skin screamed from the searing water in the shower. Or when you pulled on the roots of your hair so hard you thought you would cry from the pain. The pain meant this wasn’t all in your head.

This wasn’t a bad dream you could stop living at any minute.

It was a constant loop in your mind, a broken record of a broken time. You remember exactly how the conversation went between their text messages. You wanted to confront everyone in the group, see who else had known. Why hadn’t they told you to save you from some of the hurt? Why didn’t he love you as much as you loved him?

The sun was sinking and you knew you should head home. The days were blending together as most of them were spent driving around aimlessly. It gave you time to think. That, and your parents didn’t have to see how broken you truly were when you weren’t at home.

Everyone says that heartbreak is a right of passage. Something everyone must go through in their pursuit of happiness. You were certain your happiness was fully encompassed around David. He meant the world to you. How many times did you say I love you? How many times did you say it without the words but with your actions? He knew were irevocablity in love with him. You thought he loved you just as fiercely.

You weren’t sure your heart would ever become whole again.

As the sun dipped behind the horizon you climbed slowly off your hood. Toes were numb but so was your heart. Climbing in, you started the car and pointed it towards home. The radio was off and the night air was still crisping your hair through the open window.

The drive home felt quicker then the drive out. Your mind held the map of the whole town, you could have gotten anywhere. As you pulled into the driveway, you noticed a car you didn’t recognize. Shutting the headlights off you watch the movements in the kitchen through the window. Slowly your mother comes into view followed slowly by Jason.

Your heart was in your throat and you were out of your car in a flash. Slamming the door and turning to the house, you notice someone else in the entry way through the glass door. You didn’t have to see his face to know. He still was hunched in the corner, just as when he had visited before, but you knew there would be no smile.

You could have gotten in your car and left. Drive off into the night and you will never face your dragons. You were going to slay this dragon.

Confident strides covered how cowardly you felt. Your body was ice cold, your mouth totally dry. Grabbing the door handle you pull the front door open. David turned to face you as the wind was knocked out of your chest. His face looked like he got in a cage fight with a boxer but his eyes were the saddest you had ever seen them.

He sported a gnarly black eye and a split eyebrow. His eyes were lined red and his lips were desert dry. David looked like a walking corpse. You immediately felt contrite. However, as quickly as it came you pushed it away. He made the bed, now he gets to lay in it. Before you could say anything, Jason appeared behind him, a look of regret on his face.

“I am sorry Y/N, I just couldn’t stand to watch him destroy himself anymore.” Jason apologized. Destroy himself?

“It isn’t your fault Jason, none of this is. Though, I would appreciate it if you would both leave.” You responded curtly, eyes flicking to David’s reaction. He shut his eyes, a shudder passing through his shoulders.

“Please don’t make us leave.” David sobbed, opening his eyes. He was on the verge of a total breakdown, but you weren’t going to catch him. Instead, you intended to catch yourself. You refused to cry, hadn’t in the last two weeks. After that night, you didn’t think he deserved anymore tears. But that didn’t stop the hurt from festering in your chest. A growing monster you could hardly contain it.

“Y/N please.” David howled, he was breaking down. Tears slipped down his face as he took ragged breaths. He was trying hard to hold at onto at least a semblance of control. He wasn’t doing that great of a job. “I just needed to see you, to make sure you were okay. Please let me explain.”

The lump in your throat was growing with each passing moment. You could feel your shell breaking. The boy you loved looked like had been through hell and back, but hadn’t you? You were forced to watch the life you built crumble around you.

“Explain?” You sneered. Hurt was quickly replaced with anger. “David, no amount of explanation will help me understand why you fucked Rylee. You decided I was no longer top priority to you in that moment. As if that wasn’t enough, you kept texting her! You kept lying! There is nothing to explain.” Your breath was coming in gulps. Face hot with rage as your eyes bore into his.

David visibly deflated. He wasn’t expecting you to reject him when he came all this way. Time to cool off was what he thought you needed. Time would heal all wounds. You watched countless emotions flash across his face before he settled on regret.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I love you so much. I know I fucked up the best thing in my life. I don’t what to do without you. Please, I am begging you.” He cooed. He wasn’t going to let you slip away. “The entire vlog squad is worried about you. I am worried about you.”

“Worried about me? Which one of us is sporting the black eye?” You turn to Jason. “You want to tell me how he got that, or should I let him feed me a couple more lies?”

“The night you left David got drunk, way more drunk then he has been in a while. Decided to pick a fight with the biggest guy he could find. It seems to have turned into a trend.” Jason explained, embarrassment in his eyes.

Your emotional isolation was your punishment. David was picking fights as his. You knew he loved you, but you couldn’t, shouldn’t, go back to him. You fell in love with the way he hunkered down in the blankets editing. The way he could almost sense you needed hug. The way he seemed to know what you were always thinking. You two were the best of friends before you started dating. You thought you had the strongest relationship around.

Clearly, you were wrong.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You look at the two guys standing in front of you. They both loved you in their own way, but you didn’t feel that right now. This was becoming too much to handle. Defuse the situation and deal with what you are feeling later. Rip the band aid off.

You turn to walk out the door as your heart hammered a million miles an hour. Stepping out into the night air, you waited to hear his footsteps behind you. His breath was uneven and hot. Regaining composure, you turned to him.

“You have hurt me more deeply than anyone else ever has. You have hurt me more deeply than anyone else because I loved, love, you. You will never know what this tsunami tide feels like. You will never know what it’s like to slowly watch the world around you crumble while you stand motionless and unable to save even yourself.

“You will never know how deep my love ran because you were to shallow to accept it. I mean, you went behind and back and kept lying to me! I wish I could hate you, I know I should right now.

“I have been trying to figure out ways to salvage the wreckage, to make sure the survivors had a fighting chance, because, fuck I don’t think I do. You just kept lying. That’s what hurts that most. You kept saying you loved me at same time you kept lying.”

By the time you got the words out, you were gasping for breath. It should be the end of it. But that’s not what you wanted, you knew that. Deep down, you could never stop loving him.

“I know I was a terrible person. There hasn’t been a moment since you’ve been gone that I haven’t thought about that. Please, just give me another chance. I will do anything.” He said. There was a look in his eye that you recognized.

Love.

“Give me some time to myself, then we will talk. I’ll call you.” You said, sneaking one more look at him. Turning your back to him, you climbed into your car. A redo of that night ran in your mind as you back out of your driveway. David stood there with pain marring his beautiful features. By the time the house drifted out of sight, tears poured out of your eyes. Why did it have to hurt so bad to love someone so much?

#david dobrik #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik x reader #david x reader #vlog squad #davids vlogs

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apricot-kingdom · 5 years

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Random Yugioh ideas/headcanons/au’s and basically things I just usually consider when writing them or ideas I had, mostly the Bakura’s and Ishtar’s Names used for yami’s and Hikari’s: Ryou (Hikari), Bakura (Yami Bakura), Thief (Thief King Bakura), Malik (Hikari), Tau (Yami Marik), Yuugi (Hikari), Yami (Yami Yuugi), Atemu (The pharaoh) Under the cut

if twins the Yami’s are the younger twins not the Hikari’s and usually Malik and Tau (Yami Marik) are usually the youngest despite being tallest. Yami isn’t necessarily always Yuugi’s twin, their the same age but Yuugi’s still just older and they found Yami one day either by him just showing up and them taking him in, or him being taken to Grandpa’s shop by someone who assumes the quiet boy is Yuugi

Thief (Thief King Bakura) is a huge family man, he’s ultra friendly, fluffy, happy and everything else. He’ll definitely hug you and befriend you. He’ll call you little brother or sister or just count you as family regardless, and whilst he holds a large section within himself full of hurt, hatred and everything else. And if he lets it out, you’ll definitely need damage control, so never hurt his family. He’ll be after you and you’ll regret even crossing him. He’s kinda short so it’s easy to just look past him, but he will not lose his second family, he will not allow that to happen. He’s absolutely terrifying when he desires to be, it’s hard to believe sometimes but his friends/family know better

Tau (Yami Marik) is a selective mute, it depends on the situation. (Au wise.) But most part its because of childhood trauma thinking his voice is demonic somewhat, but he’ll talk to you, its just more —more exclusive who he’ll talk to, or in another situation its because he wants to try being whole and in a way hearing his own voice, makes him kinda still feel apart of Malik. Either way he’ll only talk to you if he’s comfortable, otherwise he’ll write, ignore or sign to you. When he does speak, his voice is like venom, it’s always deep and somewhat scary/pissed off sounding or he has a smug amused tone he can use

Tau called Malik’s father Daddy, because the man was so formal, he knew it was damn childish. But it sure enough was a good blow to the man who desired to be called nothing less than father by his children and Master by Rishid (Rishid’s too good for him anyway). So Tau goes around calling him Daddy in the most cutesy childlike tone he can muster. He does so out of mere habit even years after killing the guy

Like Tau Yami (Yami Yuugi) is often silent, he’ll talk a lot to Yuugi. More so than anyone, and he’ll definitely speak up if someone needs defending. He’ll fight for the side he regards are right or for friends. However most times he only otherwise speaks to say things he finds absolutely important to do so, or ask an odd question now and again just about life, Bakura (Yami Bakura) can usually stir up an argument though

If Malik and Tau are twins, and both receive the initiation, unlike Malik, Tau gets demonic wings instead of angel ones

Tau has little to no interest in sex -sorry to people who write him purely as something that just really wants to sleep with Ryou or someone. I think he has more important things to him he needs to think about. Like firstly learning to move on from hate and become a whole person, learning to trust, learning basic human touch, he would much rather what people probably call vanilla things, holding his hand as you walk, leaning on him in movies, sleeping beside him in bed (this one is important because sleep is one of the most vulnerable states a person has and your trusting him), just trusting him, giving the benefit of the doubt, it confuses him but he just adores it. Surprisingly to most, these days when there’s no giant revenge scheme going on he actually really really enjoys the mundane things of life and finally receiving the love and care no one offered him in the first place

Tau changes his name a lot, he’s often concerns himself with being Malik, he does not want to be Malik. Not any more. He’ll let you know when he changes it, sometimes the name can last nothing more then that day, other times it can last months. There’s still one he usually circles back to regardless of all this and most times if others know he’s chosen a name he wants for a while they are more than willing to help him with getting it legally changed regardless of the amount of times they do it

Bakura/Thief have a motherly tendency/urge, Ryou is pretty caring in the sense he can play nurse, but Bakura/Thief have a strong protect my children type thing. They’ll make sure your fed, shower, do your teeth, get some sleep (they were bad at first because they forgot how much sleep someone should get), but all those basic things

Art wise: Ryou: He’s better at writing stories, and draws a chibi like thing now and again Bakura: He draws stick figures, and can’t draw well at all. He gets paint everywhere humanly possible but loves it and is slowly improving Thief: He does either complex Egyptian stuff or finger painting. No in between Malik: Prefers to take photos of other things Tau: He’s basically a professional, mostly avoids too much realism and goes more Manga style. It started as an anger management activity but he found he actually quite enjoyed it and it allowed him to express himself better

Bakura wears hearing aid’s (Au) I don’t really have a reason for why. I just started writing him with bad hearing and I incorporate into their backstory, so Ryou/Bakura’s Mum was completely deaf and thus didn’t hear the horn or any warnings and died in a car accident with Amane. Bakura’s not deaf completely but he does need hearing aids for the rest of his life and he can struggle hearing things too softly spoken or farther away sometimes

Malik is actually very camera shy. He loves taking photos of life to capture everything he was missing out on in childhood on film to keep forever. Except he hates to be in photos himself, he’ll avoid it if humanly possible. I think so because he always hid behind everyone to the very end of his arc, behind each of his minions and then just in the back of others minds, behind his brother and his Yami, stood behind the group going to the last duel, you know? (I mean he was trying to blend in the background during Rishid’s duel but I also don’t think despite his fashion he’s actually a very showy person, he enjoys being dramatic and such but can get put off by too large of crowds. I think this is slightly related to just his upbringing, he was brought up with just his family. So whilst he has a powerful personality, so many people can still be a concern to him. He just tries to not let it get in his way too much if plausible)

Bakura and Malik rely on each other for comfort more than anything just finally having someone there by their sides who has a great pain, something no one will probably ever fully understand. And they can talk about it the other will listen without hesitation, but they also understand you don’t always have to say something

Malik isn’t keen on horror, he’s low key traumatised from flashes of his fathers murder and his back, he respects others like it and can put up to it til a point and jokes about similar things but otherwise he’d prefer not to watch it if possible

Malik and Tau prefer cartoons over realism, it’s easier to understand and just more comforting, even if people comment their watching things way too young for them. F*** those people, they can watch what ever they want

Meat actually makes Malik and Tau sick from the lack of it in their diet so they don’t eat it purely on that basis and that’s how they grew up. No other reasoning behind it

Malik is actually stronger than Yami Marik, and as a villain he actually is one that has the support of family and friends to support this. Just hear me out on the strength thing, sure Tau takes over when he’s mentally torn and worn out. That’s because Malik’s in fact at his worse, usually he’s able to keep Tau locked away within him, so in a fight I do believe Malik would win even if I think Tau would have more visible muscle. Tau’s more about mind games and tricks to assist him

Also Yuugi is stronger than people give him credit for. He may be small and look a tad squishable. But remember he was in a burning building struggling between completing the puzzle, pulling the puzzle, holding onto it whilst his two friends one of which use to be in a gang pulled him desperately from it and he wouldn’t let go. They actually decided they had a better shot of pulling the metal spike out of the concrete or whatever that thing was made from then they did removing an almost passed out Yuugi from his puzzle. So I’d say Yuugi’s pretty damn strong

Hiroto and Ryuji fight over girls constantly but they are basically together and this is just them trying to flirt. Truthfully they can only flirt on those they aren’t actually interested in, they’re masters until it’s someone they like like and then it’s like c*** what do I do which is how they get with each other

Thief is the king of pick up lines, puns, flirting in general. Where Atemu can’t flirt to save his life and he tries hard but its barely recognisable and he almost always screws it up. Thief finds it amusing and loves that he tries. However on the other spectrum. They’ve been dating and living together for like a year now and Thief only just figured out because they were on a date and he said they should go on a date sometime. They’ve been acting as an exclusive couple up til this point, he just honestly didn’t notice it just enjoying the ride

despite dating and Thief going as far as to call Atemu his future hubby before they even get engaged. Sometimes Thief admits that a large part deep within him will always somewhat hate Atemu, and blame him. He’s tried moving on but sometimes it can just fire up. They don’t always talk about it sometimes they don’t just talk and merely sit together or sometimes he just gets upset and Atemu tries to just be there. Not always try to understand or even offer pointless advice more so just be there for Thief regardless And thief will also admit, sometimes he avoids saying Atemu’s name using all his childish nicknames he can make up because of their history. And sometimes even the name can just bring all that back up for him. He truly loves Atemu and it does make him feel guilty or upset but Atemu always reassures him its ok to feel the way he does Just a little bonus note: Thief’s death pack on Atemu has changed, he still declares if Atemu’s to be killed, he’ll be the one to do it. But now more so its, we’ll be together til death does us part and even then he promises Atemu he’ll never be able to get rid of him

Mai is Jonouchi’s big sister (Adopted). She took him in as her little brother and Serenity. They often fight over what’s on tv and she shows Serenity how to put on make-up and perfumes. Goes clothes shopping and stuff. She had a big house growing up but no one to share it with, but now she may not have as big as place but she’s got a proper family

Ryou’s Dad Hideki is the king of dad jokes

Whilst Amane was still alive and a baby, Ryou excitedly took her into school for show and tell. He was really proud of his sister from the day she was born and wanted all to see. In saying that he was protective of her with others, when anyone was around his little sister he was ensuring to watch them with her even falling over a few times from leaning too far to keep an eye on them

Bakura always makes friends by pure accident and he doesn’t realise for ages. Then he freaks out about it. Because. How. When why. What the. But then their his and they are never gonna go anywhere. That or if its where he shares a body with Ryou he does it originally for his own cover, but then after time he starts just going there in general and before he knows it and yes he doesn’t know it he’s friends with the lot of them. Plus sometimes Ryou just taps out with them and at first he got irritated because he didn’t want to deal with that but he doesn’t remember at what point he stopped even noticing if anything it made him happy When he realises he has a huge c*** moment and just takes a few days to process and figure it out in his head

Au Thief, his village did burn down or everyone was killed regardless. He’s still the soul survivor, and going to another town no one knows exactly what to do with him. But they figure out he had an Uncle currently in Egypt. So he’s taken to him, Hideki Bakura. An archaeologist. Hideki takes him back to Japan to meet his other two sons Ryou and Bakura, who he acts as an older brother too now

Thief and Atemu are mostly the shortest, however instead in Au’s. Their usually Yuugi and Ryou’s cousins who had to move in due to other things back home

When Ishizu tries to display things from their home, at the museum. Malik and Tau constantly steal them. With the excuse. ‘It was mine first and you stole it from me.’

Thief is blind in his scarred eye

Bakura’s first name is Florence, and no. This has nothing. NOTHING. To do with the abridged series. Its just his name, he got it from his mother. It was a family name and whilst he often hates it and loves Japan because you can use your last name without question. But no matter how many times he fills the paper work out to change it. He never does, he can’t. Deep down its apart of him and he actually does want to keep it. He likes it. People he’s close to can call him Florence or Flow for short (or Thief calls him Flow Flow)

Yuugi and Bakura like doing puzzles together it’s oddly calming and allows Bakura time to nut out his own thoughts and if either one wishes to speak they are both open minded to what is being said. They listen to piano music a lot during this time

Bakura hates to admit it but he actually really enjoys the mundane things, cooking, doing the washing, things that just remind him he’s alive

When Tau can’t express himself, emotionally or otherwise. Too frustrated or anything like that, he often draws animals to represent people finding it easier to explain that way rather than words, he’s a lion, Ryou’s a bunny, Malik a fox, Bakura a cat, etc. I kinda imagine him drawing them a bit like how they look in Kamy’s animal au. So others know to look for them in his books and if the lion ever looks down it's a good time to start trying to comfort him. Since he’s not always the best and expressing himself verbally he’ll scream maybe but otherwise he often keeps it bottled up somewhat like Malik did when he created him. So Ryou and such know to look at how the lions doing in his books because if its not doing well something might be wrong

Bakura, Yami (Yami Yuugi), Tau, Atemu, Thief and Malik were confused as frig when they were introduced to video games but after learning about them they are get every possible console to play them, in group games like Mario Kart and such, Bakura and Thief might stand in front of Yami or Atemu whilst playing or put his hands out, Malik pokes out his tongue. Thief can not sit still, sure he does try to get in Atemu and Yami’s way, but he still doesn’t always do so on purpose, he jumps up and kicks out, gets on the edge of his seat, jumps off the couch everything. Malik will talk and yell at the game and has been known between him and Tau to throw their controllers at the screen

Ryou gets sea sick easily, Bakura’s really confused at first when he jumps on a boat in Ryou’s body, he’s basically sick the entire time and from then on he knew to take the pills

Malik and Tau can’t swallow pills. They just can’t, they try really hard but their unable to force themselves to swallow and spit them out time and time again, they even try the hide it in your food and it doesn’t work

Thief is a neat freak, and he cleans when he’s pissed off these days. And since all his things are clean and in place he’ll break into his ‘friends’ places and clean and if someone’s home, he’ll rant to them. Atemu often makes a tea and just sits nodding. Whereas others like Bakura, Tau and such will purposefully make messes as he tries to clean so its a contest if they can mess it up faster then he can clean it Malik tells him off for touching his garage because it may look like a mess and sure it probably was but thats how he wanted it and he knew where his things were. Malik made a wall of people not allowed to clean it has two things under it, a note saying ‘ANYONE WHO IS NOT ME MALIK ISHTAR’ and then a photo of Thief which he wrote ‘ESPECIALLY YOU’ beneath beside the note

Diabound is kinda like a vampire, because whilst yes he’s a snake man he’s a snake so your telling me won’t bite anyone, he can fly and instead of turning into a bat he turns into a white snake and slithers up you the hugs warmly around your shoulders as he gets ready to bite (Not really a- anything? Just something I thought about kinda just figured I’d throw it on the end because why not?)

#decided I'd just post them #honestly I don't really think anyone will see these #so all good #yugioh #ygo #still procrastinating doing things #ishtars #malik #marik #apricot #ryou #bakura #yami bakura #I don't take any of these seriously and a lot probably wouldn't work in canon but still #I like them #if you have more feel free to share #if you like one of these in particular feel free to tell me #if you'd like I can put it in a seperate post #sorry for the random spam of my writing and stuff

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mothmansmilkman · 5 years

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Big ol Information Sheet About My JJBA Part 5 OC That I Love (AKA I know im the only one who cares about this but i gotta put my self-indulgent shit SOMEWHERE)

TW for weapons, child abuse and endangerment, and other canon-typical Jojo stuff

Name: Rio (last name unknown)

Stand: White Room

Age: Unknown, but assumed to be 14 (celebrates the day she was discovered after her attempted murder like a birthday)

Height: 5′2″

Favorite Food: Cherry pastries

Favorite Movie: The Little Mermaid

Favorite Band: Nirvana

BACKSTORY

Rio doesn't remember much about her childhood, but she remembers living in a house with a loving mother and father.

Her life was changed one night when she was 4 years old. As her mother layed her in her bed, she told Rio that no matter what she heard downstairs to not scream or go down there.

A terrified Rio heard the sounds of her parents being murdered hours later. As the perpetrator was searching the house, he discovered Rio huddled in her bed. But, instead of killing her along with the rest of her family, he decided to kidnap her.

For years, Rio was kept a slave in that person's house. Only hearing of the outside world through TV, radio, and overhearing conversations between houseguests, she had begun to have fantasies of what the world outside the house must be like.

She would find out on the day she was murdered. In the middle of the night, her kidnapper took Rio to an alley armed with a Stand Arrow. Since a Stand Arrow leaves no visible wound after the act, he assumed that Rio would die and whoever found her body would assume she was a runaway that died from malnutrition or something.

However, Rio awoke hours after having the arrow stabbed into her abdomen. But strangely, the alley she remembered being in had changed into a pink castle. With the small bits of knowledge she had, she just thought to herself "I must be dead. So this must be what heaven looks like..." and went back to sleep.

Now Here’s Where We Get Self-Insert-y!

I’d like to imagine if Rio would end up in any of the canon Vento Aureo groups, she would be in La Squadra because

1. I want to see these dudes dealing with a literal child

2. There’s a line in the song White Room “She was kindness in the hard crowd” and I like when the musical references tie in to the character’s personality.

At the time of Rio being discovered, I personally headcanon that La Squadra wasn’t fully formed, and the only members being there were Risotto, Sorbet, Gelato, Formaggio, Proscuitto, and Melone. (Illuso, Pesci, and Ghiacchio would be the more recent members) (Sorry if all this is wrong, i havent actually read the manga ;_;)

Anyway, one of the members would be concerned about a pink castle being where a pink castle would not usually be. And they would be more concerned when no one else on the street even payed attention to it, as if it wasn’t there. But, as if the Stand knew someone was there, a door appeared on the castle’s wall. Hesitantly, they opened the door, ready for a battle.

...instead, they saw a disheveled, malnourished, young girl curled up on the dirty ground. When she opened her eyes and stared up at him, she finally spoke.

“God? ...how long have I been dead?”

Eventually, the gangster would take Rio to their home and ask for her story. The original plan was to let the child take a bath, have a meal, and then take her to an orphanage. However, certain details made the gangster feel more pity, like how Rio didn’t know enough about her past to remember her own last name or birthday. But, as soon as she described her “death” via a gold arrow, the assassin realized something bigger.

If someone had access to a Stand Arrow, there was a chance they were part of Passione. It would be dangerous to leave Rio alone. This would eventually (after explaining the situation to Risotto), lead to Rio becoming a resident of the La Squadra safehouse.

Life With La Squadra

Rio would be hesitant at first to ask La Squadra for anything. Not just because they’re intimidating criminals, but because she was already grateful for everything they had done for her. They saved her life, but also bought her clothes and things a kid would need. They also figured out that she was probably 10 years old. Her only request upon being given permission to live in the safehouse was that she would be taught how to read.

As time passed, the walls, both mental and physical (White Room’s fault for the physical ones), between Rio and the other members began to fall. She had begun to view every member as a father figure, even referring to them as “Papa [name]”.

Learning to read also showed the members that Rio was intelligent along with being kind. She had developed a habit of checking out books from the city’s library and copying the text by hand into a notebook as she read it, giving her a copy of her own. While she enjoyed children’s books, she enjoyed non-fiction even more, because it gave her more information about the outside world.

The other members would actually be happy to take Rio out in public when they weren’t on missions. (Especially Formaggio because hed act like she was his real daughter to try and look like a dilf) It would always be entertaining to go from having an intelligent conversation with a booksmart 10 year old to watching them get excited over ice cream or a big teddy bear.

Rio’s favorite things to collect would be stuffed animals and warm blankets. Also books, but she copies hers from the library, so she feels no reason to want to buy any.

Despite being happy and calm most of the time, Rio still has trauma from her past. Certain triggers will suddenly end up with White Room suddenly appearing around Rio, with the memory in question being displayed on the walls for all of the members near her to see. When White Room fades, Rio has usually started crying, and needs a few minutes before she can speak again.

When Rio eventually started copying medical textbooks, she asked (because no one hid the fact that La Squadra killed people) if they could bring a corpse back so she could dissect a body herself. Sorbet and Gelato would be the only ones to say yes, and actually follow through.

Rio eventually learns about Christmas. On her first December 25th with the gang, she gives everyone a knife painted in their favorite color.

Since I headcanon Pesci and Ghiacchio as the youngest of the La Squadra boys, Rio would call them her Big Brothers.

White Room

The whole time she’s with La Squadra, Rio has been training White Room. Eventually, she learned her stand has 3 abilities:

1. It can create a room.

2. It can manipulate the room. The size, the color, etc. She can even display her own thoughts onto the walls.

3. If she understands something completely, she can create a copy of it that only exists inside the room.

Rio realizes she can use her stand for killing was when she was 11. A stranger trying to rob her while she was running an errand alone brought up a fight-or-flight reaction, leading to White Room crushing the attacker as if they were inside a trash compactor.

When Rio learns that she can copy items that she understands, the first thing she asks is to learn how a gun works. The rest of La Squadra had known she would end up as part of Passione someday, because honestly they couldn’t see her having anywhere else to go, but they were wary of letting her join THEIR part of Passione since there was a very high likelihood of death. However, Rio quickly learned the ins and outs of weapons. She proved herself to be worthy as a member of La Squadra when she completed a mission, killing a man by slitting his throat with a knife created by White Room. At 11 and a half years old (possibly because no one really knows how old she is), she became the youngest official member of Passione at the time (and possibly youngest ever).

Rio prefers to work with her father figures on missions rather than work alone. Her strategy is to secure the perimeter of the area with White Room, so the target can’t escape and no one else can enter. Then, she waits with a sniper rifle. She wants to have her papas and brothers backs, and act as support in their battles. It makes her feel like she’s returning the support they always gave her.

How Rio Would End Up In The Events of Vento Aureo

Rio would be 12 years old when Sorbet and Gelato die. As the picture frames were being opened, she would recognize a body part as something she saw in a medical book.

The realization that it was her Papa Sorbet’s body would click in her mind, but she’d refuse to believe it. As the members of the team place the frames in order, they all start to regret letting Rio be in the same room.

She later gets the news of Gelato’s death.

Rio openly weeps at the funeral. This was the first time her heart ever truly felt broken, since she wasn’t old enough when her real parents died to really remember them. It takes Rio a while to start acting like her old self again. Like the rest of La Squadra, she never forgives the Boss for this. Despite feeling anger when Risotto told the gang to just “Forget about Sorbet and Gelato”, she understood that any act of revenge that wasn’t thoroughly planned out would make her or worse, more of her papas and brothers to suffer the same fate.

AU Where Bucci Gang and La Squadra Team Up Because That’s What I Wish Would’ve Happened (Also i just dont want to write Rio dying like they do in canon)

Seriously tho if Giorno or maybe buccellati would've gone on the shopping trip this au probably wouldve happened

Rio would be 14 at the time Giorno happened and the events of Vento Aureo took place.

Rio would love having people closer to her age around. I imagine she'd become friends with Narancia and Fugo (because Narancia can have fun and can give her the childhood fun she never had, and Fugo because finally someone with brain cells). I imagine she’d see one of their study sessions one day and just join.

Tbh Trish and Rio need each other. They need other girls in their lives.

Rio is okay with Mista, but likes Sex Pistols more. Buccellati wishes it wasnt too late for him to adopt her

If the boat scene would still happen in this AU, I think Rio would go with Fugo. It's not that she's scared of fighting the Boss, it's because La Squadra doesn't know if they can handle her dying at such a young age. They tell Fugo that if he's leaving, to take Rio with him in order to track down any possible living relatives (or anyone who could possibly know Rio's true identity)

Before they leave, Rio tells the group to find her again when they come back. She had faith that with their numbers and combined abilities, the 2 gangs could take down whatever was in their path. Sadly, when Giorno reaches out after the events of VA, only a few survived.

Rio would, of course, end up joining Passione again like in Purple Haze Feedback. This last image is a design of an older Rio (maybe age 16-18)

#vento aureo #jjba #jjba oc #oc

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notsugarandspice · 6 years

Text

Spin for Me (Chapter 3)

Spin for me, I'll let my bruises do the talking. If you close your eyes, I'll disappear, but maybe not tonight. You're too good for this world, I won't save you.

Pairings: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Warnings: Angst, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Trauma

Previous chapters on ao3.

There’s nothing but a nauseating dull pain when Richie wakes up the morning after his twenty-first birthday. His throat feels dry and bitter, the stale taste of alcohol and puke lingering on the walls of the esophagus. It’s a combination vile enough to send him running towards the toilet. The clear liquid hitting the water isn’t that astounding - anything that wanted to come out did so last night. Memories are a black haze, occasionally filled with snippets of the evening. Blue thong between tanned cheeks. Pink on brown. Stanley’s guffawing face. The green and red of street lights as they drove down Pine Tree Drive. His tears hitting the bottom of the tub. Plunk. Plunk. Stanley was long gone.

Richie doesn’t know how long he stays there, nausea slowly subsiding from the coolness of the toilet seat. He flushes lazily after several minutes, unable to stare into the repercussions of his own mistakes. He doesn’t get up right away, afraid that any movement would instantly trigger another vomiting fit. He thinks of how to go about the events of last night. How to talk to his friends about the importance of boundaries. How to tell his boyfriend that they just don’t work anymore.

His head eventually slowly lifts up as if on its own accord, his stomach producing terrifying sounds that can only mean hunger, but the last thing Richie wants is anything in his mouth. He pushes himself up from the toilet and stands in front of the sink, contemplating surging forward and smashing his head in the mirror. When has life gone to complete and utter shit?

Richie looks up, meeting the eyes of the ghost reflection of himself staring back. His skin is sickly pale, with a tint of purple green that people typically associate with things like mono, except he’s perfectly healthy. There are several broken blood vessels around the brown irises. The dark circles under his eyes have a deep red forming from constant insomnia and overwhelming stress. Last night was the first time he slept more than five hours in the past three years.

The acne on the hollows of his cheeks has gone into overdrive, feeding on lack of hydration. Richie bends down and splashes his face with cold water, rubbing it with amplified intensity. He opens the mirror to pull out one of Stan’s prescription scrubs and makes work of the tiny stinging beads, focusing on his cheeks. He’s supposed to leave in on for five minutes, but Richie decides to wash it off right away instead, caring very little about the long-term effects. He brushes his teeth quickly and spits out without rinsing, clinging to the relief that spearmint brings in lieu of a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

Richie walks to the dresser, rubbing his abdomen absentmindedly. He hasn’t eaten well in weeks, and it shows - his stomach isn’t just flat anymore, it falls in from lack of nutrition. He picks the red t-shirt with a little pocket on the right side, spraying a large amount of cologne all around, trying to avoid showering as long as possible. Someone undressed him the night before, and he feels fresh nausea hit the back of his tongue from the image of Stanley kissing his thighs after pulling the jeans off. He doesn’t know if it even happened, it might just be a recurring memory.

Pulling on a pair of old jeans he stumbles into the hallway, zipping up on his way to the kitchen. Richie just notices a fresh smell of coffee that clings to the entirety of the living room area. He rounds the corner to the kitchen and sees Stan sitting on the breakfast table, folded newspaper in hand. The ominous domesticity almost makes him vomit again.

Stanley lifts a finger motioning not to be disturbed, and Richie rolls his eyes. As if I wanted to fucking talk to you. He opens the fridge door, ignoring the pancakes resting on the large white plate, butter melted on top. He knows his boyfriend’s schemes through and back: he does some shit-fucked move, fucks up their night, and then apologizes with greasy breakfast and a blow job. Neither seems appealing to Richie, and he ignores the food, pulling out the milk carton to pour on top of his coffee.

He sits down next to Stan on the table downing half of the mug in one go. His boyfriend doesn’t even bat an eyelash, engulfed in another boring political article, sipping black coffee from the smallest mug in their kitchen. Richie wants to throw it against the wall.

“You going to say anything?”

Stan finally lifts his eyes, a very disinterested expression on his face. “What do you want me to say, babe?”

“Don’t call me that.” He knows I hate it. Why does he insist on doing things that make my skin crawl?

“I don’t have time for arguments if that’s what you’re here for.” Stanley’s eyes shift back to the article.

Richie’s entire body fills with rage so powerful he has to dig unkempt nails inside the heels of his hands. He’s done. Done, done, done, done. Done feeling like he doesn’t deserve better. Done being with someone who wants a submissive servant for a partner. He doesn’t want anything to do with this relationship anymore. It doesn’t just make him unhappy - he is downright miserable.

Richie grabs onto the newspaper and gets up from the chair, throwing it on the floor. Stan’s expression barely changes, and he looks back at his boyfriend with an amused leer as if he expected this to happen.

“I’m fucking done, do you hear me, Stan? I’m done with this shit!” Richie knows he probably looks like a stubborn child but his throat feels tight and tears are stinging his eyes. This has to happen. This SHOULD’VE happened a while ago.

“You say that every time. And every single time you come back.” Stan leans into his own palm, probably waiting for another outburst.

“I mean it this time. I’m not sticking around. You need someone who’s going to keep up with your shit and crawl around you like a dying puppy. I’m not doing that anymore.” Richie’s voice is cracking, disturbing sounds of his suppressed sobbing filling the small apartment.

“Look, why don’t you go have a walk, and we talk later? How does that sound?” Son of a bitch.

Richie puts his hand on the table, leaning towards Stanley’s face close to get the message across. “I. Said. I’m. Leaving. Got it?” His voice is ice cold. He shivers from it himself.

Richie turns around on his heel, his head pulsating from receding anger and relief that’s shooting through every inch of his skin. He’s done something that was in the works for a while. He did this. For himself. By himself. I don’t need him and his controlling fucking words, and his manipulative ass sitting on my breakfast table every morning. Fuck this.

He goes back to the bedroom to retrieve a jean jacket and put on his most worn leather boots. There are no sounds coming from the kitchen, the only noise is Richie’s heavy breathing and the shuffling of jeans. Since the car he usually drives is Stanley’s, he decides to take a taxi instead, devoid of a specific destination. He puts his hands into the pockets of the jacket, feeling for the wallet and cigarettes. The pack is there, completely empty, but not the other item. Richie furrows his brows and then closes his eyes in realization, an image of a dollar bill on top of the black glossy bar passing through the blackout haze.

Richie sighs heavily and strolls towards the front door in haste. He doesn’t even look at Stanley, but he can feel the judgmental eyes on him, causing his hands to shake on the doorknob. The smell of fresh coffee is soon replaced with the scent of a moldy carpet in the hallway, and Richie smiles.

Eddie feels awkward. He never feels awkward. The fingers holding the cigarette are shaking, ash falling down in his lap. The pressure with which he presses the breaks is irregular, and both he and the passenger are flung forward at every red light. But he doesn’t hear the man complain as they drive around in silence, smoking, smooth rock music coming through the old speakers of the Toyota.

He’s never had anyone in this car before. It was his ma’s. He can’t afford a new one, and it fell into his hands after Sonia’s death, along with the house and anything else she owned. He sold the house a month later, and the rest of her belongings were sent to his aunt who he never held contact with. What do you mean, Eddie? Sonia would never touch you that way. Baby, she probably wanted to make sure you don’t have a disease. You know how the fags in your town are. He wants to vomit.

Eddie eventually pulls over to the bar on Collins Ave, parking in two spaces to make sure that nobody scratches the doors of the car. He can’t afford to patch it up. He looks over to the man in the passenger seat, taking a moment to observe him briefly. He sees somewhat a reflection of his own exhaustion on the other’s face. Brown-eyes’ hair is greasy, sticking to the top of his head, there are slight burns on his cheeks that Eddie recognizes as the acne medication. When their eyes meet, Eddie’s heart clenches at the raw misery and pain reflected in the dark chocolate. He knows that look. It watches him in the mirror every morning.

Look at this, Eddie, you found another victim. Why don’t you hit him? Hit him now and see if he runs. Maybe the pain won’t scare him. Maybe it will take him longer than the other. Maybe he even likes it.

His eyes start burning with approaching tears and Eddie steps out of the seat, quickly rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of the jacket. He hears the door creak and knows that the man got out of the car but he can’t lift his head from the crook of the elbow, afraid of his own mind.

“Hey, you okay?” asks the man quietly, and his voice is very close, Eddie guesses he’s standing right in front of him.

He finally lifts his head and squints a little, even though the stranger is conveniently obscuring the smoldering October sun, hanging mid-sky. The temperature rarely ever drops below eighty here. Eddie smiles in response to the warm voice, and he doesn’t want to feel as safe as he does. He doesn’t deserve to be safe.

“Yeah... um, I’m good.” Brown-eyes smiles, sunlight framing the thick black hair, and Eddie can’t help but want to know everything about him, against better judgment. I thought I’d never see you again. I thought you’d be nothing but a daydream.

Eddie starts walking towards the glass door of the bar, and there’s a typical jingly noise when he opens it, signifying their entrance. The whole place reeks of cheap whiskey and tobacco but it reminds Eddie of the club, and he instantly relaxes. It’s not sickly sterile. I hate sickly sterile.

They walk towards the orangey oak bar, taking a seat right in the middle. It’s too early in the day for anyone else to be here but Mike used to work at this joint, and it makes Eddie feel sheltered.

A bartender is in the back, and Eddie leans over the counter, grabbing a random tequila bottle. He makes a ‘that’ll do’ expression upon reading the label and leans downward again, snatching two shot glasses between his fingers. The man sits quietly next to him, looking over the small wooden pieces hanging on top of the bar top with beach paintings on them. He seems genuinely interested, and Eddie smiles at the smallest glint of shine in the other’s eyes. Eddie thinks he deserves to smile more.

“You okay with this?” Eddie pushes a full shot towards the man. His expression seems unreadable at first, something dark flashing in front of his eyes but then it’s gone, and he downs the tequila in one go.

“Yup,” says the man, popping the last letter and smiling wider than Eddie has ever seen. Eddie’s heart jumps straight to the back of his throat.

He downs his own shot, feeling the dull warmth spread somewhere in the middle of the chest. He sighs in relief and instantly refills them.

“So, are you going to tell me what you were doing there yesterday?”

The man seems taken aback for a second, confusion crossing over his features and then his mouth becomes an understanding ‘O’.

“My friends wanted me to have fun, I guess. I’m not a club person at all. Everyone thinks so, but I’m not.” Eddie just now notices how young the other’s voice is. His looks scream thirty, but his innocence is all teen. But Eddie knows how unforgiving outer layers can be. You’d know all about it, won’t you, Eddie?

He clears his throat to respond, pushing the lump further down. “Why did you let them?”

“What?” asks brown-eyes, downing another shot.

“Drag you there. You don’t seem like someone who can be taken anywhere against his will.” Eddie’s eyes trailed up and down the man’s body quickly.

Brown-eyes laughs and Eddie honest-to-god wants to jump him right there. “Looks can be deceiving. I’m tall, but I weigh practically nothing. All bones.”

“Bones are heavy.”

The man grins and pushes the shot glass towards Eddie. He notices how long and bony the other’s fingers are. Eddie feels goosebumps cover his forearm. “Are you a nurse by day?”

Eddie snorts, filling the shots again. “Definitely. I’m all about helping the needy.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, and Eddie turns to see what caused a delayed response. The man sits there and just stares, searching all over Eddie’s face, then looking lower. Eddie feels his knee twitch as the stranger’s eyes get stuck on the hole there.

He nervously pushes the shot in the other’s direction but the man doesn’t move, fingers tapping against the bar in contemplation. “Gonna tell me your name?”

Eddie can’t help but smile. And he wants to, really does but he also wants nothing more than to protect this wonderful, young man from himself.

“Not yet. Why don’t you tell me about that boyfriend of yours.”

The man’s face contorts, and Eddie sees the jaw clench irritably. He wants to say that he regrets saying it but everything about last night intrigues him. Everything about you. I want it all.

“How did you know?” asks the stranger, downing another shot with an empty void in his eyes.

“He seemed like he didn’t want to let you out of his sight.”

“Yeah, he suffers from those tendencies,” says the man and his voice is strained and final, but Eddie wants to hear anything and everything. Press, press, press.

“Tendencies?”

Brown-eyes pauses for a second as if composing himself. “Manipulative.” He doesn’t elaborate, and Eddie decides to give him a break. He’s never too afraid to ask a personal question but the last thing he wants is to make this man uncomfortable.

The guy is sitting in complete silence, shoulders slouched and face staring at the empty shot glass and Eddie is about to ask if he stepped over the line when the bartender enters the room. Eddie instantly recognizes him, along with the distinct reek of a drunk man. Polly has always been like that - careless and generally very bad at his job.

Eddie quickly realizes something and is about to stop the bartender from talking, but it’s a losing battle with someone drunk at eight in the morning. “Polly-“

“Eddie! What a fuckin’ riot! Can’t believe you’re here this early in the day. Aren’t ya a night owl?” screams the bartender, leaning on the counter right in front of them.

Eddie hasn’t blushed in years, but he must be now - he feels his entire body burning. He’s secretly hoping that the man didn��t catch the name and turns his head carefully. The guy’s face is nothing short of pure fascination: mouth open, eyes wide and black eyebrows raised almost to the hairline. Eddie’s face drops into his hands.

“Fuck me sideways! I know your name now!” Eddie laughs into his hands and looks back at the man who is still grinning, cheeks flushed and eyes a little glassy. Shit, you’re gorgeous.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait a second. How come you have a client this young?” asks Polly, looking over the man darkly. Eddie suddenly wants to shield brown-eyes from view.

“He’s not a client, P.” Eddie really doesn’t want to elaborate on the implications of that word. He already senses confusion coming from the stranger.

Before the conversation gets out of hand, he pulls out a stack of cash and smacks two worn twenties on the counter. He nods towards the door and starts walking, waving goodbye to Polly. Polly works a lot with clients too. But he also doesn’t use protection, so Eddie hurries out in case the stranger is more inebriated than he looks.

Brown-eyes follows Eddie, and they both end up leaning on the car, lighting the last pair of menthol sticks that make the suffocating humidity somewhat manageable. Eddie stands in silence, simply enjoying the other’s company. He is pleasantly buzzed, feeling even more so when the nicotine spreads itself through his darkened lungs. Thoughts of his father come rushing back, and Eddie feels another episode of choking fear of death come back. But he’s not even sure he’d mind it. Dying. He’s inflicted so much pain, enough so that if hell and heaven were real, Eddie knows where he’d end up.

He feels eyes on him, and he turns to look at brown-eyes. There is some color on his face now, on both of their faces, and it makes for a nice change. Eddie doesn’t feel so empty anymore. The stranger is smiling smugly, and it makes the soles of Eddie’s feet tingle. He doesn’t want this to end. I don’t want to let you go, but I have to. I know I have to. I’m like a sleeping volcano. And you’re Pompeii.

“Hey, so I was thinking-“

“You do that a lot,” says Eddie giving the man a wink. He feels a smile tugging the corners of his mouth, and there’s something beating the inside of his stomach. It’s all too unfamiliar.

Brown-eyes laughs and Eddie’s eyes water instantly from the gratifying sound. “Right that. It’s unhealthy, I think. Nothing good happens when I do.”

“Same here.” Eddie smiles warmly, the muscles of his cheeks already used to the novelty of sensation.

“Are you hungry? There’s a nice Mexican place next to my office. We could eat there. Should open at nine.”

Eddie wants to ask him about the job. And why in the fucking hell a guy like him, with charisma and heart of gold works a stuffy 9-5. But getting to know him more might cause Eddie to get attached. And that absolutely cannot happen. No, Eddie, attachment leads to commitment and we all know you can’t do that. You can’t even commit to the same cigarette brand. Piece of fucking shit.

Eddie swallows the malevolent voice down and forces a smile. “I actually have a lot to do. I can drop you off home if you want.” Fuck. No. Bad idea, Eddie. You can’t know where he lives. Come pounding on his door begging to be loved. You can’t be loved. Piece of fucking shit.

“Oh… Okay. Um… Sure.” The disappointment in the man’s voice is as clear as the bright blue sky above them. Eddie suddenly feels the stifling heat approaching midday slowly but surely, and he wants to get indoors. The alcohol is making him sweat, so he finishes the cigarette, throwing it close to the storm drain without stopping. He takes off the jacket, feeling the tingling of burning UV light on his forearms. Brown-eyes is watching him, cigarette long gone, his hands in the pockets of dark jeans. Eddie wants to take them off right there in the parking lot. Take his skin off as you go. You’re good at hurting people.

Eddie blinks back another rising hysteria and leans on the car in front of the man, stepping closer. He can smell the unmistakable sticky sweat that’s not entirely unpleasant, a scent of strong, cheap liquor and expensive cologne. Smell of a man. It makes Eddie’s mouth water.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” He shouldn't ask, really shouldn’t. But he wants to know everything. God, everything.

The stranger smiles nervously, his eyes darting between Eddie’s eyes and lips. Eddie feels the tension resonate in his groin like a shockwave. It’s an avid reminder of how long it’s been since he’s been with someone he wanted.

“I guess you’d have to make me a promise that I’ll see you again.” Eddie’s hand involuntarily goes to the man’s chest, and it rests there, feeling a speedy heartbeat. It matches the punching of his own ribcage perfectly. It’s terrifying. There’s an intake of breath and Eddie is afraid to look at the other’s mouth. He might lose it.

“Sure,” he answers and puts the hand away. It feels cold and empty now.

He gets into the driver’s side and starts the car after a couple of tries. Brown-eyes gets in almost a minute later. Eddie wouldn’t blame him if he just walked away.

The man guides them back to his place, pointing the long bony finger in the direction of the correct turns and exits. Eddie’s eyes linger on those limbs longer than appropriate, and the stranger probably notices. A sweet strawberry redness covers his cheeks charmingly, and Eddie wants to press his lips to the color. They finally pull up to a five-story apartment building in a good neighborhood. Eddie saw a crowd of girls on the street corner so he might be wrong. The man gets out instantly and leans on the open window.

“I’m not going to live here anymore. Gotta find a place to crash. Can I see you some other time?” There is an alarming amount of hope in his voice that makes Eddie’s chest tight.

“Your boyfriend wouldn’t mind you hanging out with me?” Eddie wants to be closer. He doesn’t even care about the boyfriend.

“Nada. Kinda useless to ask for someone’s permission when you’re not theirs anymore.” The man nods towards the building and Eddie connects the dots. He said it as if he’s some sort of property.

Eddie’s palms are sweating where they’re clasped in front of him, and he wants to hold the stranger’s cold ones. Brown-eyes straightens and fishes for something in the pocket of his jeans. He takes out a business card and reaches it out for Eddie to take.

RICHARD TOZIER

Sales Associate

(305)676-9988 ext. 667

Eddie smiles at the name, something pounding the inside of his tightened throat. The logo of some nonsensical company is on the back, and so is the address of the office. It’s too much and too little information all at once. Eddie leans over to the passenger seat and waves the card in front of him, smiling.

“Thanks.” Richard, Richard, Richard, Richard. Rich.

“Okay, well, I’m not gonna lie. I don’t ever sit at my desk, but I’m gonna now. Please call.” Rich slaps a palm on top of the car and strolls to the main door. He bends down to wave before he goes in and Eddie starts driving several minutes later, tears slowly rolling down his face.

Three months will pass until he sees Richard Tozier again.

#reddie #richie and eddie #this is angsty af #im sorry #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my writing

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jabbajambler · 3 years

Text

When We Were Young

Obi Wan Kenobi x f!OC

Word Count: 2,063

*GIF by @ahsokastars*

Rumors spread quickly through the ship after Kamino. Everyone knew of Obi Wan's lecturing and everywhere I went, people huddled together and whispered. Even the troopers began talking about what went down. I suppose they were all exhausted, tired of hearing about these war battles. Sometimes adolescent drama was the only thing that truly spiked their interest.

I couldn't blame them. It certainly added something interesting to my life. Here I was, thinking I was going to become a hardened war general, but instead I was being babysat by the Jedi and told off for trying to help.

Yay.

I kept my head hung low as I passed on my way to the landing deck, blocking out their subtle remarks as I went by. It was like I was a Padawan all over again, being criticized by the Jedi masters in the halls. Well, that was still continuing on top of all the other drama and I wasn't even a Jedi anymore.

The ship was fairly empty at this time of day, at least the hangar was bare. Everyone was debriefing or off on their own missions while I was assigned, yet again, to Anakin and Obi Wan. Although, I heard that Anakin's Padawan was joining us this time. That was the only plus.

With the lack of people around, it was easy to detect the mop of red hair that stood next to the starfighter. Obi Wan was standing peacefully next to Anakin, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he spoke with his former Padawan. It was almost a serene scene if just the sight of him didn't fill me with a burning rage.

It was so easy for him to prance around and act like nothing happened. He hurt me and didn't even bat an eye while doing it. He wasn't the man I once thought he was. Now, he was a model Jedi, exactly what everyone expected. I'm surprised they didn't build a statue when they already kissed the ground he walked on.

Before I knew it, I was stomping over to them. I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to. I couldn't even take a moment to breathe and rethink what I was about to do. Instead, I plastered on a bright, only slightly suspicious smile as I sauntered up to them.

"Hey, Aaryn." Anakin chuckled, his eyes darting over my deranged expression while I kept my focus on Obi Wan. He refused to look at me, instead turning his attention to his holocron bracelet as he reviewed the message. "How you uh- How are you doing? You ready for today?"

"I'm great," I answered quickly and crossed my arms snug against my chest. "So, General Kenobi."

He answered with a gentle, inquisitive hum, but his attention was still elsewhere. There wasn't anything interesting to look at, we had all been debriefed already. The message was vague but it was of high importance. There were no details or strategies, only the instructions to follow the call to the Crelythiumn System.

"You plan on babying me on this mission too?" His blue eyes met mine, hazy and tired. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than before. They were darker and slightly purple in color. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he hadn't slept in days. "Or maybe you could put me on a leash and have me trail behind you, is that your plan? I must say that if you haven't learned by now, you never will. I'm not going to behave for you, you inconsiderate, stuck-up, thick-headed, ass-"

"Enough." He interrupted. His jaw clenched and twitched as the red anger grew across his face. "You need to grow up, stop acting like such a child."

I scoffed. "Maybe you need to stop treating me like one."

"That is a childish response!" He snapped and took a step towards me. Though he wasn't too much taller than me, he seemed to tower over me at this moment. His face crinkled in frustration. What were once smile lines across his face were now turned into an angry frown. "You have the sense of a Padawan- no, a Gungan. It's no wonder you were never approved to become a knight."

An irritated huff of breath escaped me in a borderline laugh while I stood. "Oh, you must've experienced some brain trauma since then because you know that is not the reason. Or should I show you? We both know I'm fully capable of that as well." I hissed and reached for the hilt of my lightsaber at my hip.

He grumbled as he, too, moved for his saber. I would never expect for a Jedi to react so harshly, but it seemed I brought out the worst in him.

Before either of us could react, we were interrupted by a youthful voice. "Master Skywalker! Master Kenobi!" A young Togruta was barreling over with a beaming grin. "Who's this?"

"This," Anakin draped an arm over my shoulders and pulled me into his side, quickly moving me away from Obi Wan's menacing stare, "is my sister, Aaryn. Aaryn, meet my Padawan, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka had a kind smile and bright blue eyes. She couldn't have been much older than fifteen. Her round face and short stature made this clear, but also the little hop in her step. Being a child in a war must be horrible, but I had no doubt that Anakin was keeping everything as interesting as possible.

He was denied a childhood, something that haunted me forever. He knew what it was like to mature at far too young of an age, he wouldn't burden another child with that.

Ahsoka gasped and ran up next to me as we climbed the ramp into the ship. "Anakin has told me so much about you! You're the new General, aren't you? Do I call you General Skywalker? Or are you going to be General Aaryn because of Anakin? Maybe there will be General Skywalker one and General Skywalker two!"

"Enough, Snips." Anakin growled and sat himself next to Obi Wan in the pilot's seat.

"Snips?" I questioned.

"It's just what he calls me." Ahsoka smiled. "I'm so glad you're coming with us! It can get a little boring sometimes when it's just the three of us."

Obi Wan scoffed, "I'd hardly call anything involving you and Anakin boring, Ahsoka."

Anakin shook his head and tried to deny the crazy adventures that Ahsoka soon went into detail about as we took off. They were quite the pair, outgoing and a bit too adventurous for their own good. Reminded me of someone else I once knew.

We quickly arrived at the location - the supposed location, at least. There was nothing around except for distant stars and planets, but there was a certain pull, I suppose. It felt like the Force flowed through all of the space around us, beckoning us to come closer. I was tempted, I hated to say it, to just jump out of the fighter and find out for myself.

"Rex." Anakin activated the comms as we arrived. We were meant to meet a Republic Cruiser, but it was nowhere to be found. "Rex, do you read me? We're at the rendezvous point awaiting your arrival. Where are you?"

"Sir, we are at the rendezvous point," Rex answered with furrowed brows, "and there's no sign of you on our scanners."

"Oh, come on," Anakin scoffed, "that's impossible. Something's wrong. We're at the exact coordinates where the distress signal originated, but there's nothing here. Rex is at the exact same coordinates, and he's not here." Anakin was growing frustrated. His words started to speed up and he began waving his hands around as he spoke.

Obi Wan hummed, his hand raising to run his fingers through his beard. "This is getting interesting," he said calmly.

Rex's hologram began to flicker as it slowly wavered and dissipated. "Unable to find you. Where are you, Sir?"

"Something's blocking the signal." Ahsoka spoke as she investigated the controls.

As if luck wasn't already on our side, as soon as the words left her mouth, the electronics throughout the ship shut down. We were left in the dark abyss of space with only enough light to see the outlines of each other's shadows.

"Not good." Obi Wan mumbled as we all frantically began pressing any buttons we could to get things powered up once again.

"Everything's dead," Ahsoka's voice was grim, "even the life support."

"This is really strange." I heard Anakin whisper right before everything came back on.

"Well," I chuckled, "it seems like everything is back to normal. There's nothing to be concerned about."

Ahsoka's eyes seemed to widen as her hand rose to point at the large, red and black diamond-shaped object that we were nearing. "Then what's that?"

The ship beeped and trembled as we were pulled towards the planet-like-object. It certainly didn't look like a planet, not in the traditional sense. It glowed and was much smaller than any planet or moon that I'd ever seen.

"It's pulling us towards it." Ahsoka looked between us all, gripping the two front seats while the diamond shifted and split, flashing us with a blinding white light.

"It doesn't look too friendly, either." I grimaced and grabbed the back of Obi Wan's seat.

Obi Wan turned back to face the two of us, his voice gentle, collected, and demanding, but his eyes were filled with worry. "Everyone, strap yourselves in." He ushered Ahsoka back to her seat. "Looks as though we're going for a ride."

We all quickly pulled out belts across us as the white light enveloped us. It hurt my eyes and sent a splitting pain through my head. I thought it would go on forever. We just kept getting pulled deeper and deeper into the light. I remembered hearing Ahsoka call for Anakin before my mind went blank. Suddenly the light was gone and all that was left was darkness.

I could see flashes of red, a shout, maybe a plea? Blue lights clashed as splashes of orange shot out around them. It was fierce - angry, even. Then there was a softer light, a gentle yellow cast on dunes of sand, followed by a pair of blue eyes. They were beautiful and familiar, but sad in ways I didn't understand. Finally, a nearing blood-red light. I felt the heat of it on my face, but before it could reach, I woke up.

A gasp escaped me while I frantically tried to grab onto something just to prove I was back to reality. My hand met a gentle cloth and as I looked up, I saw the same blue eyes from my dream. They weren't so sad this time, but they were accompanied by Obi Wan's worried face.

"Are you alright?" His voice was so sincere and rich, full of his accent that no one could quite place.

I tore my hands from his arm and nodded, hardly remembering how to speak until I mumbled out a quiet, "I'm fine."

The light was still bright outside the shuttle, but thankfully not as blinding. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but all around us were tall, green plants. It was a beautiful sight to behold and it took everything in me to not throw myself out the door to see if the grass was as soft as it looked.

"Where are we?" Anakin whispered.

"Some kind of organic mass." Ahsoka spoke as she fidgeted with the controls. "All of our readings indicate that it's bigger than an asteroid. But at least the atmosphere is breathable."

"Well, this is getting more unusual by the minute. I can't even lock down where in the galaxy we are," Obi Wan paused, the creases in his forehead became more prominent with his confusion, "or if we are even in our own galaxy."

"Let me see." I pushed Anakin's hands away from the controls as I stepped up and started poking at the buttons. "The ship is fine, sorta. Nothing's working but there's no damage, either. I say we go explore, hm?"

Obi Wan sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "I have a bad feeling about this."

#obi wan kenobi #Obi Wan Kenobi x OC #obi wan needs a hug #daddy wan kenobi #jedi #OC #star wars #clone wars

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