please anything for my love polkadot man like show him the love he deserves. maybe the reader is the only person who's not his mother? idk I just need my boy to be happy

ugh god fuck this man this dude he made my crush on david dastmalchian resurface so fuckin hard it hit me with the force of a fucking speeding truck like what the fuck excuse you mister mommy issues who fucking allowed that its not legal

Abner Krill seeing Reader's face hcs:

the whole thing with his mother's face is weird - not just in a sense that it's fucking weird in general, but sometimes it comes naturally, and sometimes he has to imagine someone is his mom (which happens mostly when he has to hurt them). there's not much control he has over that. most of the time, everyone around him does have his mom's face, but when he's incredibly stressed, it's like his brain starts to work differently, focusing on other things, other thoughts, and without realising his mother's face disappears sometimes, but he's way too distracted and overwhelmed to ever realise that. he has to really focus in those moments, especially if he has to use his polka dots

but with that out of the way, he really doesn't know what you look like. he has no idea. and he fucking hates it. not only because he just hates that his brain does this shit to him, but because you're so different from his mom. so... nice and kind, and you pay attention to him, and you, dare he say, care. for him, about him, it doesn't matter. you show that you care. you show concern, you worry over him, you share his happiness, you talk to him and try to bring that happiness out, and he can't even properly look you in the eye because all he sees is his mom and he doesn't want to fucking associate you with her

it's a big barrier between you two. he desperately wants to see you for who you are, to see that smile he hears in your voice when you talk to him sometimes, watch your eyes water when you laugh hard by his side, see your fucking expression when you touch him, but he can't. you're such a beautiful person on the inside, and he's sure you are even more beautiful on the outside, but whenever he looks at you, he only sees that ugliness, that suffering his mother always brought with her

and then you told him you had an idea. said you wanted to help him. make him comfortable with you. let him be free of his mother and everything she's done to him for once. you just wanted that. you just wanted him to be happy. just because. because you liked seeing him happy, wanted to see him happy more often, wanted to make him happy - this whole concept is hard for him to grasp, the fact that you fucking care. it's not a thing he ever thought possible and he's plenty grateful for you as it is already, and yet you're still doing more for him

it wasn't the best idea. it wasn't guaranteed to work. but it was worth a try. Abner wasn't ready for the disappointment he expected. he hasn't hoped for anything this much for so long, but in the back of his mind, he knew he was just fucked up. he knew he couldn't be "cured", he couldn't be helped, and most importantly, he couldn't ever be good for you. and yet you were so intent on trying. and despite everything, he was too. because there was nothing in this world he wanted more than being able to see all of you, get rid of that barrier separating you and be able to truly be with you. in whatever way you'd have him

you made him sit down with you, close his eyes. you asked him to trust you, and honestly, he wouldn't have ever thought that to be possible, but he did. he really did. you took his hands - he jumped, you noted and started informing him of all your next moves - and put them to your face. he was touching you. you made him touch you. you willingly let him cup your face in his hands. and all of that made his already quickened heartbeat speed up

gently, oh so gently, you cupped his hands in your and started mapping out your face. you let him touch every part of it and described it as best as you could. every little dip, curve and crook. every scar, every dimple, every angle. you glided his hands all over your face and let him skim his fingers over every inch of it, from the tip of your head, through your hair, all the way down to your neck. he didn't want to acknowledge the blush that was covering him up to the tips of his ears, or the fact of how much he's wanted to touch you for so long. but he did acknowledge all that you've said to him. and he tried to get a clear picture. he tried with all his might. and since the first moment his fingers touched you, he knew you were beautiful

you let him take as long as he needed, ask as many questions as he wanted. for a few moments, he wasn't even focusing on what he was supposed to, he was just focusing on touching you, on having your face right in his hands, feeling you. if you knew (and he hoped not), you didn't say anything. but then he had to let go. and he couldn't let himself focus on how cold his hands felt after you let go of them, he had to pay attention to the task at hand. for a good few moments after parting from you, he kepts his eyes tightly shut, his hands slowly balling into fists, as he hoped, begged, prayed to whoever was listening that it'd work. you let him sit there for as long as he wanted, but at some point, he had to gather all his courage, and finally, he dared to open his eyes

he was frozen, those sad eyes seemingly even... sadder. or at least that's what you judged because of how they slightly glossed over. you thought it didn't work - it wasn't too surprising, the whole idea wasn't really anywhere near perfect, but you've had so much hope in you. you wanted to free him of his burden, you wanted to help him see the world for what it truly was, but it was a hard task. impossible, it seemed. you shouldn't've been this disappointed that it failed when it was destined to fail from the beginning, and yet you couldn't help that wave of sadness that overwhelmed you. he... he really deserved to be fucking happy for once. but you couldn't give him that, unfortunately

or so you thought before he suddenly cupped your face in his hands yet again, his thumbs caressing your cheeks frantically as he smiled. grinned, even. you have never seen a human being this euphoric before, because of you nonetheless. you've never heard him laugh this genuinely, as that glossiness from his eyes escaped to his cheeks and slipped down his face as his eyes roamed yours

his fingers trembled against your skin as words - more than he ever really spoke - flowed from his mouth. his broken whispers of 'i see you's and 'you're even more beautiful than i imagined's replaced the heavy silence that previously hung around the room, and now you had to deal with an overwhelmingly happy, emotionally-repressed, socially-awkward loser that practically vibrated in his spot at the sight of you