#ottos been trying to do shit on his own ever since he brought the damn book of wisdom to priestella and shit akdndn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves · 3 years

Note

How about some cook Cavendish satisfying Drax with pleanty of food. digging Drax' ass out of a dumpster and showing him what actual food is, giving him pleanty to feat on~

-cursed

This sounds tender as SHIT. Let's fucking go.

Cavendish pulled the top off the pot, taking an inhale. Soup smelled good, it should be ready soon. He added more salt, before putting the top back on. It was late at night, and everyone else was asleep, but Cavendish couldn't sleep. He knew he needed it though, so he decided a nice, hot meal would soothe him. Usually Otto cooked, but he was happy to make something of his own. A nice stew, coupled with some fresh bread (that he didn't at all steal from Brownlee's food stash), he made more than enough food.

"The hell?"

He was about to heat up the bread, when he heard a commotion outside. Something was out there, digging into the box of scraps just outside.

"Fuckin' told that damn cabin boy to dump the scraps."

He grabbed a kitchen knife, and went outside. Probably some rat. Had they not been disease ridden, biting bastards, he would've ignored it. He walked slowly, knife raised, when the damn thing turned around. It wasn't a rat, it was worse. Henry Drax. He was digging into the FUCKING trash, like an animal. Cavendish sighed, as a means of both disgust, and relief. At least Drax wasn't a biter. Usually.

"Fucking hell Drax-the hell you doing out here?"

"Hungry. But I can't go back into the damn kitchen."

"You kept eatin' shit, didn't you?"

"Otto maybe a godly man, but he's a stingy fuckin' bastard."

Drax was an absolute scavenger. He'd always hang around a kitchen, stealing little bits of food, even when Otto was just trying to cook. Cavendish had seen it first hand, and until he was booted from the kitchen, it was pretty damn funny.

"Are you actually eating from there?"

"Aye. Wasteful man. Still meat on these bones, and these tomatoes are still good."

Cavendish watched as Drax dug his foul teeth into a juicy, spoiled tomato, letting the juices run down his ever messy beard. Cavendish didn't love this man in the slightest, but he'd be heartless not to feed a man digging out of old scraps.

"You're a fuckin' mutt- come on."

He smacked the tomato out of his hand, and put his hand behind his back, ushering him back into the kitchen. Drax was clearly upset about the lack of his snack, but he didn’t get a chance to bitch as he sat him down at the table. Drax looked like he wanted to get up, even, but Cavendish knew just what would make him stay. He pulled his flask from his coat pocket, placing it on the table. Drax chuckled, getting comfy in his seat.

“Know how to get me to stay, Micheal.”

He only called him that in private. When not a soul walked in between them. Cavendish waved his hand at him dismissively, He added oil to the bread, and stuffed it into the tiny oven. As glorious as the Volunteer was, Cavendish could make a complaint in regards to the kitchen’s size. He felt cramped in here, not just amongst the damn clutter in here, but with Drax just sitting there, nursing the rest of the flask (greedy bastard, thing was full when he got it to him). It was a bit much, but in a way, it was comforting. Just a slow, brief break from the bullshit at sea. No Sumner, no Brownlee, no insurance tricks, no whaling. Just the smell of a fresh pot of soup, and herbed bread. He turned off when he smelled the bread, just how his mother always did.

“You better stay here, Henry. Too much food here for my lonesome, and if Otto found out I cooked, he’d never let me back out into the ice.”

“He likes someone to talk to. As if Sumner wasn’t enough.”

“Maybe it’s redheads.”

They both chuckled. They knew Otto. the caring, protective type that favored the more feminine, soft men. Men who could pass off for the usual whore. Cavendish finished cutting the bread, adding it to the plates, and alongside the bowls of soup, brought it over to the table. Drax had that hungry look in his eyes, and it was one of the few times where it didn’t unsettle him. Drax, as usual, didn’t savor his food the way any person would. He ate the way a hungry animal would, slurping loudly, teeth tugging at the meat and lips slurping the bones clean. He went in with the spoon when he had to, but when he needed meat, he tucked in like a brute.

“Ya mam never taught you how to eat, did she?”

“Hungry. I ain’t eatin’ with royalty, afterall.”

“As if you’d change for royalty.”

Drax grinned, beads of beef broth dripping from his teeth and into his beard. He rubbed at the mess in his beard, wiping it on his coat, then continuing to feast. Cavendish was no man of status either, but he at least knew how to cherish a meal. The salt in the soup, the sweetness of the carrots, the starchiness of the potatoes, the gaminess of the meat- all which sat moist in the salty broth, seasoned by the bones. And the bread. Crunchy, yet still somewhat soft on the inside. Better than any hardtack they were given.

“Good soup, Micheal.”

He watched as Drax’s lips curled around the soup, noisy as he drank. He’d give the man one thing; he wasn’t fussy. He picked the bones clean, even stripping it off his cartilage, and even licking the crumbs from the bread off the plate. Man was starving. He groaned to himself upon finishing. He wasn’t sated, but he was a little more tame than before. Cavendish wasn’t even done with his soup by the time Drax sat there, licking the residue off of the rim of his bowl. His tongue was greedy, appreciative of every single drop. Cavendish sighed, getting up, and offering his hand to Drax.

“Quit lickin’ the damn thing, I’ll give ya more.”

“I don’t like wastin’ any of it. You don’t know when it'll be the next time you'll eat.”

Cavendish rolled his eyes. Knowing Drax, he’d live. Man would kill and eat an animal raw, with his own teeth if he had to. He went back into the kitchen, filling up the bowl, and giving the man the last piece of the bread. He gave it back to him, and watched as Drax finally ate like a person. Well, closer to a person anyway. He didn’t dig into it like a hungry wolf, but rather, he savored it, as though it was the least meal he’d ever eat. Cavendish nodded, tucking into his bread after having it soak up some of the soup.

“Finally slowing down, though I’d watch you choke.”

“Aye, I do the choking ‘round here, lest you forget, Micheal.”

Henry shot him a wink, just as he was tearing the strips of flesh from the bone. You could always tell when Henry was eating. He slurped, he moaned, he groaned, his teeth ground against bone. It was an experience for Henry. Didn’t matter what it was. Just that there was enough for him. Henry would still enjoy himself, as if a proper whore was blowing him during his meal. It was annoying as hell to most, but not to Cavendish. All he heard was a hungry, eager man.

“Surprised you don’t eat the damn bone, Henry.”

“Don’t throw ‘em out, I’ll suck on them like hard candies.”

Probably why he hadn’t tossed them to the floor, but rather, kept them on his plate, as if he wasn’t done with it just yet. Cavendish had finished his meal quite some time ago, but he had no issues sitting there, watching and listening to Drax’s animilatistic sounds. By the time he finished, he sat back, licking his fingers over and over again. He finally looked sated, relaxed. Cavendish stood up, taking his bowl, and bringing him another. Drax looked hesitant, even as he sat there, suckling on bits of bones, but Cavendish knew Drax could never turn down a meal. He accepted it, helping himself to more of the soup. Cavendish sat down again, watching Drax gorge himself further.

“Never know when you might eat again, eh Henry?”

“Free food is free food, I’d sooner perish than waste a morsel. Especially knowing you made it for me. Almost sweet of ya.”

“Suck my prick, Henry, I just don’t want to smell trash in your breath, next we meet. You already smell like cheap booze and smoke.”

“You like that smell, they all do.”

He smirked. He didn’t notice the broth run down his arm at first, and had to take a second to run his greasy, greedy tongue up his arm. Cavendish swore he saw the dirt and grime graze off his tongue, and he was surprised that even HE didn’t flinch at the taste of himself. He finished the new bowl of soup, far less quickly than the rest of them. He did finish however, leaning back in his chair. He looked exhausted, and the sigh that escaped his mouth let Cavendish know he was about to pop. Drax reached for his belt, and unbuckled himself, letting himself free of his cloth confines. Cavendish watched as he rubbed at his hairy, plump stomach, slowly. As if he was taunting him. The damn thing was nudging the table in its size, and Cavendish swore he never saw the man so docile. So vulnerable and content with himself. Cavendish got up again, and poured the rest of the broth into the bowl. Just enough for one more. Just a little something extra to push him.

“Alright, you can finish the pot, since ya hungrier and uglier than any pest I’ve ever seen.”

Drax burped into his hand, lightly shaking his head in protest. Drax ate enough to feed a number of men, the fact that he didn’t cough it all back up was a surprise to anyone who didn’t know him. He put his hand on his belly, giving it a nice pat. Soft, hairy, and hot from the oh so big meal he just finished eating. Drax sighed, but pushed himself through it, bringing the broth to his mouth, and greedily slurping at the remains. Cavendish had to hold onto the bowl for him, nursing him like a wee babe, and oh so carefully massaging his big, bulging stomach. Drax gasped as he finished, as if he had just put his head underwater.

“Alright, I’m done now, Micheal.”

“Should be, you finished the pot.”

Cavendish took the plates and put them away (leaving it for someone else to clean, obviously), only to come back with something in his hands. Drax looked damn near dazed, before he looked at the wrapping in his hands, suspicious, as if it were a damn weapon.

“Hell is that?”

“Dessert.”

Granted, they were old, but desserts were desserts. He held onto Drax’s chin, forcing his mouth open and pushing the treat past his lips. They were simple ginger cookies he picked up before they left for shore, but they were still fairly tasty. Not that Drax noticed. His poor body ached and his stomach grumbled, begging for him to stop. Drax the vision of gluttony, greed, and lust. He stuffed the rest of the cookie in his mouth, and upon Drax FINALLY swallowing, Cavendish pressed his lips against his, slowly gracing his tongue with his own. The taste of beef, booze, and sugar, was exactly what Cavendish craved. He looked into his dazed eyes, lightly patting his cheek.

“Better not catch you digging through the trash next time, Drax. You want yourself stuffed, you come to me. Get it?”

“...Aye.”

He patted his stomach once more. He was a filthy, greasy, fat, barbaric man.

Was it any wonder he had to dive in for seconds?

#asks #not transformers #The North Water

8 notes · View notes

theghostofashton · 6 years

Text

“i can’t do this without you.”

39. “i can’t do this without you.”

i had an idea. i saw that this was the next prompt.

it broke me.

it’ll break you too.

trigger warnings - depression and anxiety

"So this fuckin' asshole thinks he can just fuckin' do that? I was like hell no dude, this isn't just another fuckin' song. I put so much of myself into this shit and they think they can fuck with it like that? Hell fuckin' no. So I just-"

"Aws, hey, take a breath." Geoff moves the arm he has around his shoulders to the middle of his back, between the blades of his shoulders. "It's our day off. We said no band stuff."

He rolls his eyes. "You said no band stuff. I didn't say anything."

"I meant it for both of us," Geoff mutters. He begins to move his hand in circles. Awsten pulls his lip in with his teeth and closes his eyes, leans into Geoff's touch and lets his body weight shift onto Geoff's side. "You needa day off, love. You're too stressed."

"It's an important song," he manages. "I need them to hear it the way I wrote it. The way it was meant to be heard."

"They will." Geoff's hand stills on his back and snakes around to wrap around him. His fingers curl around his torso and Awsten stumbles and almost falls, as Geoff pulls him into a hug. He feels the tears burning at the corners of his eyes as soon as his face hits Geoff's shoulder. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he inhales heavily and presses his nose against Geoff's collarbone.

"Do you wanna go home?" Geoff's breath feels warm against his ear. "We can see the movie another day."

"Mmmm."

"We just left off on the season six finale of The Office, remember? We can start seven." Geoff keeps rubbing his back. "And we still have some of the cookies your mom dropped off on Thursday. C'mon baby, let's go home. You need a day in bed."

He needs more than just a day. He needs a week, a month, maybe an entire year of dreamless, restful sleep, unhindered by the sharp claws, the talons digging into his back and ripping at his skin, tearing and scooping, hollowing him out until he wakes, cold, breathless, sticky with sweat and unable to separate the images his mind conjures from you're in bed you're with Geoff you're safe it was just a dream you're okay breathe.

He lifts his head off Geoff's shoulder and looks down, slips his hand into Geoff's and curls his tiny fingers around Geoff's bigger ones. "Let's go home."

Geoff smiles at him and leans in to kiss his cheek. He closes his eyes, breathes in, uses his other hand to cup Geoff's cheek and press their foreheads together.

Some days he wonders how this happened. He remembers the blurry lines and faded edges, the darks and lights blending into one to form a greyed out mess, the ache, like someone poked a hole in his heart and then stuck their finger in it like a curious child, ripping and tearing until it finally split.

He remembers the headaches, crying so hard he couldn't lift his head off his pillow the next morning, the hand on his back and the voice next to his ear, feeling the bed dip and being intoxicated by a scent that now feels like home. He remembers Geoff's hands; feeling liquid warmth seep into his veins, plant flowers where she'd grown weeds, become the glue that held his broken pieces together.

Some days he wonders how he got this lucky and thinks of the version of himself a few years ago, the one that stared up at the ceiling with achy eyes and a knot in his chest, the one that wondered if things would ever get better.

And he wishes he could tell himself it would.

"I love you," he whispers. He moves his head back so he can connect his lips with Geoff's.

"I love you, too," Geoff says when they pull away. "Never forget that."

He swallows again – goddamn Geoff for turning his sad tears into happy ones – and turns out of Geoff's embrace to look at the street in front of them. He starts walking forward and the grip on Geoff's hand becomes a pull and that's when he realizes Geoff isn't walking with him.

"Geoff?"

"The walk sign's not lit up Aws, we gotta wait."

He turns back to the street. The road is clear. He can hear cars in the distance but they sound far enough that they can make it across the street. "There's no one here, relax."

"Aws, I really think you should-"

"It's fine!"

"Aws, watch out!"

"AWSTEN!"

Someone pulls the ground out from under him. He's in the air for all of two seconds. He feels pressure against his back and he flies forward, tumbling to the concrete in a tangle of limbs. The pain stings. It's sore his knees are stinging what the fuck just happened who the fuck was that what the-

He hears the screeching of tires and whips his head around, just in time to see Geoff's body roll up onto the hood of the car and crash to the ground with a loud thump.

...

His heart is racing.

It feels like his lungs are going to eject out of his throat. The nausea has settled in and made a nice home for itself.

He's never run this fast in his life.

He practically hangs onto the receptionist's desk when he gets to it, white-knuckling the edge and panting heavily. He puts one hand on his chest and inhales a heavy breath. There's nothing slowing down his heart. It's impossible. It's been racing since Awsten's flurry of frantic texts came in.

otso

gedeji

hfibgr

hospiewpsa

geodk

nenewn ydou

"Sir, may I...help you?"

"Geoff Wigington." He lifts his head with another gasp.

She nods, still looking a bit hesitant, and types for a bit. The keys clack loudly. He feels like he's suffocating when did it get so hot in here why.

"He's still in surgery, sir," she says. "But they brought someone else in with him, an Awsten Knight? Do you know him?"

"Y-Yeah," He chokes out. "He's my best friend."

"Alright," she replies. "He's in the emergency waiting room, if you'd like to go wait with him. Make a left at the end of your hall and it'll be on your right."

"And...Geoff?"

"I don't have anymore information right now," she tells him. The smile on her face looks sympathetic. He bites down on his lip. "But if you come back in an hour or so, I might. Either that or his doctor will come out and speak to you guys. Someone will find you when there's an update, I promise."

"Thank you."

He doesn't wait to hear the rest of her rehearsed 'I hope your friend is okay' spiel. He's already received a ton of dirty looks for running, so he tries his best to speed walk down the hallway.

GeoffGeoffGeoffAwstenalonegogogo.

And then he's running again, skidding to a halt when he gets to the waiting room and Awsten comes into view.

He's sitting sideways in one of the chairs, completely secluded in a corner. His knees are pulled up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around them. He's not looking up so Otto can't see his face, but what he can see of his cheek is red. His hair is messy, sticking up in clumps. He's wearing – holy fuck is that blood? – Geoff's hoodie around himself like a blanket.

"Awsten," he breathes, stepping forward so he's in Awsten's line of sight.

Awsten whips his head around so fast.

And seconds later, he has his arms full of boy. Awsten lunges for him and koala-clings to his body, arms so tight around his neck that he's giving him a physical reason, along with emotional, not to breathe. He wraps his arms equally as tight around Awsten's torso and pulls him in as close as he can possibly get.

His heart feels like it's cracking just as fast as it is racing because the sobs Awsten is letting out are guttural and choked. His voice sounds absolutely wrecked. He's borderline screaming. Otto can feel the spot on his shirt already soaked through. "H-He pushed- and then he- I saw- h-hit- I-"

Otto rubs his back and swallows against the lump in his own throat. Tears are burning at the corners of his eyes and sliding down his cheeks. "I know. It's gonna be okay, Aws, I promise. He's gonna be okay."

"No." Awsten lifts his head up and stares at him. He's chewing on his lip. His cheeks are swollen and tearstained and his eyes are bloodshot and red.

"Yes," Otto emphasizes. "He's going to be fine. I promise you."

"You don't get it."

"What?"

Awsten's voice cracks heavily with his next words, "it's my fault."

...

It doesn't feel real.

He saw the blood pouring from Geoff's head and heard himself screaming his name and tasted nothing on his lips when he kissed him, but it still doesn't feel real. He sat in the ambulance and watched them hook Geoff up to every wire in existence, saw them attach him to a heart monitor, kept his eyes fixated on how damn slow the beeps were, stared at Geoff's unmoving body, the barely-there rise and fall of his chest.

It's not real.

Geoff didn't push him out of the way of an oncoming car. He didn't get hit himself. He didn't sacrifice himself for Awsten. It didn't happen.

Except that it did.

Geoff pushed him out of the way of an oncoming car.

And then got hit himself.

He keeps trying to tell himself that, trying to make sense of it in his brain, but the words aren't clicking. It won't register. 'Geoff got hit by a car for you' is a sentence his brain refuses to process. It sounds like a movie, one of those heartbreaking romcoms where the guy gives up everything for his girl and it ends in tragedy because the universe isn't always so kind.

Geoff told him.

He said the walk sign wasn't lit up, he said to stay back, he said not to cross the fucking street.

He did it anyway.

He tried to cross the street and a car came out of nowhere, and Geoff, being the fucking hero he is, took it upon himself to make sure he didn't get hurt. Geoff sacrificed himself for him.

Geoff could be dead right now, because of how stubborn he is.

His chest feels so tight. His throat is closed. He can't swallow without tears stinging his eyes. His arms are sore and his mind is racing and his heart hasn't stopped running the marathon.

He could be dead.

Because of you.

If he dies it's your fault yourfaultyourfaultyourfuckingfault.

He's going to throw up again. He spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom after they first got here, having watched them rush the bloodstained stretcher into emergency surgery.

Having watched them rush the love of his life into emergency surgery.

It feels like a dream it's not real nothing is real Geoff is safe they're home they're watching the Office they're eating cookies Geoff's okay everything is okay everything'sokayeverything'sokayeverything'sokay.

This is all your fault.

Yourfaultyourfaultyourfault.

He's going to throw up again.

...

"Alright hun. You're listed as his emergency contact, so you're able to stay the night with him. I'll bring you in a cot a little later if you want one, okay?"

He nods. He feels numb. The world feels like it's moving without him, like he's looking down on it from some outside place in the universe, looking down on his body and his life but not really living it.

There's a cast on Geoff's left leg and another on his right arm. Bandages are wrapped around his head, hair covering them messily. He's wearing a hospital gown that covers his legs down to where the cast begins. There's road rash on his uncasted arm and a plaster covering a spot on the middle of his (seemingly) uninjured right calf.

There's nothing left in his stomach to throw up. The pocket of tears is sitting right next to the nausea switch, pressing dangerously against it. All that's holding either of them back is a paper-thin membrane that's just about to rip.

He walks closer and reaches for Geoff's uninjured hand. He doesn't lift their hands off the bed.

Haven't you hurt him enough for one lifetime?

He's gonna break up with you.

If he lives through this, that is.

Who would want someone that did this to them?

"I-I," he forces out. "I'm so sorry. I love you so much and I am so fucking sorry. I should've listened to you. You were right." A choked chuckle tears from his throat. "Always are, aren't ya? My stubborn ass should listen more, huh?"

He leans over to kiss Geoff's cheek, right under his eye. "I don't deserve you. It always feels like that. You're just...you're so good to me and I'm so shitty and I don't know why you're still with me and maybe this is a blessing in disguise because now you have an excuse to leave my pathetic ass." His voice breaks on the next words, "I don't know why you'd wanna stay."

He squeezes Geoff's hand, biting down on his lip and tasting copper. He drops his head down and squeezes his eyes shut. "Please, just. Don't die. You don't have to stay with me. I get why you wouldn't want to. But I just-" Another sob. "I need you. I need you way more than you need me and it's pathetic and I'm pathetic I get it but I just. I don't know how to do this on my own, Geoff, I-" Talking hurts, at this point. His throat hurts so bad and every word feels like another knife. "I can't do this on my own."

"I'm so fuckin' stupid." He barks out another laugh. "Tellin' you you can leave me and then sayin' how much I need you. I'm too fuckin' dependent on other people 'cause I hate myself so much."

"I don't feel okay without you," he continues. "And it sucks. I know that's not how it's supposed to be. I know it's like, unhealthy and shit. But after everything last time...I would be dead without you. I don't know if you know that but it's true. I wanted to kill myself so bad after her and I. I didn't. Because of you. Because you made me feel like it was okay to be sad or angry or numb or anything, and I needed that. I needed you. You were the only person saying it and I needed it so bad."

"I've done a lot of stupid things." He forces a smile and looks up at the ceiling. "A lot of really shitty, stupid things that I know make me a bad person. But this...falling in love with him...this is the best thing I've ever done. It felt like all the bad stuff was finally over. Like I was finally healing. And fuck, I was so tired of being broken. And he heals me. So I just." He swallows. "Universe, god, whoever's fuckin' up there, I just. I know I'm shitty and only go to church on Christmas and Easter – and that's only when we're home which we usually aren't – but I need him. I can't lose him. I can't do it it'll kill me I promise it will he's too important for it not to."

"So please just." He can't stop crying. "Please don't take him from me. Please. Give him back. I need him, please, I know I'm horrible I know, just this one thing, please, I just." he sobs again. It feels like one giant ball of pain, expanding and sending out sparks. Each spark hurts worse than the last. It all hurts. Everything hurts.

"Please..."

...

Night comes and goes; dark blurs into light.

He doesn't register any of it.

The only time he moves from Geoff's side is to go to the bathroom. He doesn't eat, won't sleep, can't do anything but watch Geoff's rising and falling chest, make sure he's still breathing what if he stops what if it stops what if I watch him die.

His face feels stiff and everything feels like massive migraine.

It hurts so much. His eyes burn and his stomach growls and his limbs ache.

He ignores all of it. Otto knocks on the door, brings him food, sends Zakk and Travis and even Jawn, to try and convince him to eat something. He refuses.

And everything is silent.

He gets accustomed quickly. The beeping heart monitor and Geoff's breathing become a home, familiar. He settles into it.

"I love you," he mumbles, bending down to kiss Geoff's hand. "Come back to me so you can dump my sorry ass. It's okay. I know it's coming. I just- I needa know you're-" His voice cracks. "Alive. At least. Just that. I'll be okay. I knew this wasn't- wasn't gonna last forever."

"Are you planning on dying?"

He stops.

Someone hits pause on the world, and he stops.

His heart is racing hot cold hot cold hot cold there's fire burning down his back but ice swallowing all of it what the fuck what's going on fuckfuckfuck.

"G-Geoff?"

Geoff blinks at him. He squeezes his hand. "Are you planning on dying? Because I'm not."

"Wha- I don't- I-"

"This ends when one of us dies," Geoff says. "And it's not gonna be me."

"I can't-" The world is spinning everything's moving fuckfuckfuck this isn't real it's a dream he's dreaming he can't breathe what the fuck just happened fuckfuckfuck.

"Come here." Geoff holds out his good arm.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

He climbs onto the bed – as gingerly as possible, avoiding wires and tubes as best he can – and sinks against Geoff's chest. He buries his face in the crook of Geoff's neck and inhales.

It doesn't smell like what he's used to – the cologne, sweat, and vanilla. It's sterilization and antiseptic and his nose curls up at first, but he ignores it.

"We're gonna talk about this later," Geoff murmurs. His lips are buried in Awsten's hair. "After I get some pain meds hopefully, 'cause this fucking hurts. But sunshine, this isn't ending. No matter what. You've got me. Until I die, I'm yours, and even after. I promise."

"I love you," is all he can manage. The past two days have been the most exhausting of his entire life. His body feels so heavy. His head hurts so bad. Everything feels so thick. Heavy.

Possible.

"I love you, too."

The room dissolves into steady silence for a few moments. He tightens his grip on Geoff, tries to balance between not wanting to hurt him and wanting to squeeze him and never let go.

He almost lost him.

He swallows again and presses his lips against Geoff's neck. Geoff starts to rub his back again, and he sighs.

"I would do it again. And again. A hundred times over, even more, if it meant you never have to get hurt a day in your life. I love you, sunshine. You're the love of my life. This is never gonna end, okay? Can you say it? So I know you're hearing me?"

His voice cracks in the beginning, and more tears slide down his face by the end.

"This is never gonna end."

#im so sorry #i broke myself writing this #most painful thing ive written #probably #waterparks #waterparks fanfiction #awsten knight #geoff wigington #gawsten #gawsten fanfiction #neha writes #depression tw #anxiety tw

27 notes · View notes

your-friendly-neighborhood-sc00t · 7 years

Text

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T SEEN THE SEASON 3 FINALE OF FEAR THE WALKING DEAD, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED

So I know I’m about two days late on this, but I just need to discuss what is clearly the worst decision that the writers of FTWD have ever made:

Troy’s Death:

There was absolutely no reason for this to be done, he was part of the show for a single, god damn season, he was one of the few characters of the show that was able to effectively CARRY IT, he was one of the primary reasons for why I kept coming back, he was one of the FEW characters that I genuinely gave a shit about. He was charismatic, he was actually interesting, he had a strong personality that differentiated him from everyone else, he had an incredible amount of potential that is utterly wasted, and what was already established of his character was entertaining and well-written. And he forms a brotherly-like bond with Nick, that works well, as well as what we thought was a solid friendship with Madison. And then he gets killed off in a terribly written fashion, by a character I don’t give a shit about.

Wow.

And the foreshadowing behind it is just depressing to watch, Troy asks if “they’re good” with each other, to which Madison confirms, and then 5 minutes later, she bashes his brains in. Troy is opening up more-so to Madison, revealing that he is starting to view her and Nick as family. He TRUSTS them, he knows they have his back, both have previously reassured him of this. Which is why when he first gets struck down by Madison, you can see the disbelief in his eyes, he genuinely was not expecting what he thought was his FRIEND, or, excuse me, what he thought was FAMILY, to just brutally assault and KILL him, when he posed absolutely no threat to her, and was entirely unarmed. Nick is shocked as well, the one guy he truly saw as a friend, a brother, the guy he was always trying to protect, is murdered by his own moth er, who said she was grateful that someone besides her was looking after her son. I honestly think, and hope, that Nick never looks at Madison the same way again, not after this. She just reacts so quickly, and without any hesitation at all, completely disregarding the consequences of her actions.

And sure, you could say that Troy caused the deaths of several people back at the Ranch, but the thing is, he gave Nick a fair warning long before the Herd arrived, so instead of the Ranchers and those of the Black Hat Reservation (Walker’s Group) attempting to hold down an unsaveable fort, they could have evacuated, y'know, fled the scene, and THAT would’ve saved a ton of lives, and sure, maybe it would’ve been tough to find another place they could call “home”, but lots of people wouldn’t have died. And since Troy was so easily able to direct a horde to the Ranch, that heavily implies that the horde was already close, and may have swarmed the Ranch at some point in the future, regardless of Troy intervening. And lastly, it’s not like any characters of the Black Hat Reservation served any purpose at all, except for Walker, Lee, and Ofelia. As for the Ranchers, the only characters of prominence were the Otto family, and the only one remaining was Troy, so it’s not like we lost any interesting characters or material at all. However, two deaths that I did find sad, and impactful were Blake’s (the last man Alicia had to initially put down) and Christine’s (the woman who was reminiscing with Alicia) And Alicia hoping she survived the entire ordeal, and being forced to prevent her reanimation was just sad to watch, it was a short, but meaningful bond she was able to form with someone she hardly knew.

And Madison’s bullshit line:

“You took everything from me.”

Made no sense at all, the Ranch was doomed to fail anyway, in some way, and your kids survived the entire ordeal, she actually didn’t lose anyone important to her. And why would you kill a man that you know has your back, and your son's back. Sure he’s a bit of a loose cannon, and maybe a little unstable, but enough of him was there, where you could trust him. My sister brought up the argument that Madison also blames Troy for Alicia’s departure, but that was a decision Alicia made herself, Troy made have indirectly caused her to make this decision, but nobody forced her against her will to do this.

The problem with them killing off such an important and entertaining character is the fact that the cast is so small, and that these are so far and few between. The main series gets away with this because of it’s large, diverse cast, if and when one of my favorite characters die, there’s always several more remaining characters that I absolutely adore, and it’s always been that way.

One final thing I'd like to fully address is what's actually happening as Madison is killing Troy. Now I know getting struck in the head with a hammer will likely disorient the fuck out of you. But just look at Troy after he receives the first blow, his expression may seem blank at first sight, but he is actually staring at Madison, straight in the eyes, and doesn't even attempt to fight back, and to be perfectly honest, he probably is entirely unable to, because he wasn't expecting to be brutally assaulted by someone he was beginning to see as family, he's clearly emotionally hurt, that someone that he has come to grow attached to, beats him down, and murders him as if he meant nothing to her at all. Which would explain why he dies in just two strikes from the hammer. Another fucked up thing, is that he is entirely unarmed in this situation, and not for a single second does he actually turn aggressive towards her, the dude is literally just having a fucking conversation with her. And when you think about it like this, the entire scene becomes a thousand times more awful to watch, and think about. This moment made me utterly despise Madison as both a character and a human being in the show, and I originally didn't give a shit about her, I didn't hate her or love her, but she wasn't unbearable, but now, she's turned into this psychotic bitch that is willing to kill others on a moment's notice, even those who don't pose a threat to her in any way, and without thinking of the consequences that may befall her. And I can't believe that this piece of shit is our protagonist the "Rick Grimes" of the series, the character we're supposed to be rooting for, all the time.

Troy’s untimely demise was simply shitty writing, and was incredibly rushed for no reason at all, he wasn’t given enough time in the show, and the way he was killed was both sad, and pathetically written.

No form of The Walking Dead has ever made me this angry, and that’s definitely saying something.

Now, a disclaimer, if you think Troy deserved his death, it was well-written, or just didn’t like his character. That’s perfectly fine, you’re entitled to your own opinions and interpretations, so please, respect mine, as I would respect yours.

#fear the walking dead #troy otto #rant #season 4 better introduce some damn fine characters #my thoughts

54 notes · View notes

corruptionofteller · 6 years

Text

18. The Test

It had been about a week since Scarlet had ran her car into the patrol mens. As much as the club had respected her for it, Jax seemed to cautiously watch her every move.The way he moved when she moved rolled from an annoyance to something Scarlet had began to respect. She was finally realizing the dirty blonde, biker god had truly kept her best interest at heart.

For years she had been a loose cannon, saying what she wanted before thinking about the consequences. Doing as she pleased without thinking about anyone but her own selfishness. On more than one occasion she had been asked why…Why would she spin out and not even think twice that she may be killed in the process. Scarlet never could answer it, not until today that is.

The sad truth is Scarlet never worried about dying because she felt without admitting to herself that she had no real reasons to live. Sure, she had close friends but she was not rooted. There was no family to ground her to the earth. In some ways she felt she was a floating mistake brought to earth to live no real purpose. So she ran into the blaze of fire with an open heart ready to meet her maker. She had more questions for god himself than any one single person on earth. From a very young age she questioned what her purpose was here on earth, why was she created?

It wasn’t until now, meeting the Sons that Scarlet had ever felt a purpose. She sat at the clubs barstools watching the men of mayhem run around in an almost playful manner enjoying the croeaters that flooded the club. Her eyes glanced over to Jax, who was sitting with @themanofloyalty having a beer undoubtedly talking about the LA trade they have been working on. Jax caught her eyes with his own shooting her a wink. One that said you are safe, you are home.

Bringing a fresh crisp beer to her lips Scarlet took a sip though her stomach immediately disagreed as it had for the better part of the week. She set the beer down on the bar top making her way over to Jax and David. Jax’s smile could melt the panties right off her and he damn well knew it. His eyes never left her as she confidently made her way to the two men. His hand reaching out for hers he planted a soft kiss to ther knuckles. “Hey guys, I think I am going to head home”

“Home, already?” Jax sat up straighter with a look of concern. Scarlet nodded with a small smile leaning down kissing his cheek. “You just got here darlin’” The disappointment was evident but she knew she needed to get going before she became sick yet again in front of the loyal members of SAMCRO.

“I’m sorry, I just think I want to go to bed.” She admitted to her the blue eyed charmer who was caressing her knuckles with the callous pad of his thumb.

“Yeah okay, We should maybe think about you seeing the doctor Babe. You ain’t been getting better and it worries me.” He admitted while his eyes scanned the room for Rat she was sure.

“I’ll take her home, We haven’t had much time to hangout since I been in town” David interrupted the two already standing on his feet searching for his smokes. Jax glanced at David then to Scarlet nodding in agreement.

“Yeah okay, I won’t be too late. I’ll come by and check on you once I finish up here.” With that said Jax stood up leaning over kissing her lightly, his eyes quickly searching hers. Scarlet hated to see him worry so she smiled returning the kiss.

“Jax, I have been feeling better just not 100% yet.” She gave him a last kiss before making her way out of the clubhouse to David who was already waiting for her by the car.

“We need to make a quick stop.” David called out taking a seat in the driver side of her still rental car. Scarlet shrugged getting in not asking where he wanted to stop. She shut her eyes getting dizzy with the motion of the car. Not alot was said on the car ride until they pulled into the local drug store.

“What are you getting?” She managed to ask without throwing up the little bit of dinner she was able to eat. David didn’t answer her he got out of the car leaving Scarlet behind. She laid her seat back shutting her eyes trying to focus on not throwing up when David came back in setting a bag in her lap. He turned the car on and began to drive them home. Scarlet didn’t have the energy to sit up and look in the bag whatever it was she was sure she didn’t want.

Once they got to the house Scarlet grabbed the bag tossing it at David getting out of the car with a groan. She heard David sigh following out the car after her. “You don’t eat but you say you are starving. You smell food and you throw up, you throw up when you wake up. You are moody, more than normal anyway. Do you see a pattern here because I do?”

Scarlet walked up the steps hearing what David was saying but not connecting the dots. Her head shook as she unlocked the front door pushing it open turning slightly to face him. “I am not allowed to get sick?” She questioned with a perked brow not liking his tone of voice. David shoved the bag back into her chest pushing past her walking inside.

“I am saying you are not sick with any kind of flu Scar. Look in the bag” His tone seemed annoyed by her being naive. She opened the the bag pulling out the box reading the label out loud with her long term friend.

“First response early pregnancy test? David are you serious?” She snapped not because he bought her the test but because the past few days she had been trying to convince herself she didn’t need one. David pointed to the restroom not saying a word as he strolled over to the kitchen. Scarlet was left standing in the hallway reading the box hearing the fridge get pulled open and a beer getting cracked open.

“Do it Scar or do I need help you piss on the test myself?” David called out after her heading to the living room. Scarlet looked at the restroom then the box letting out a groan filled with remorse. David always has been her voice of reason, the only person in her life to be able to kick her ass into gear when she was stuck inside herself. He was more of a father figure to her though he was only a few years older than her. He was that one person who told her the shit she didn’t want to hear but needed to.

Tearing the box open she slowly walked into the restroom shutting the door behind her. Her eyes gazed into the mirror like she was seeing herself for the first time. Tracing over her tattoo’s, the scars she hide under them. Scarlet never once in her life wondered what mother hood would be like for her. She couldn’t see herself responsible for the life of a child. Scarlet could barely take care of herself.

Breaking the staring contest she was having with herself Scarlet took the test and set it on the counter, she took a seat on the edge of the tub lost inside her head. There was no way she could see herself with a round belly, and she definitely didn’t see Jax at her side. Jax. God how would Jax react to the news, it could very well break him. he could kill her. Most would think that was a figure of speech but the hard truth is Jax was capable of anything.

Scarlet didn’t know how Jax felt about her. It was not like they sat around talking about feelings. They either fought, or fucked. That was the length of relationship between the two. She knew her heart called to him. Only she figured it was his dick that called to her. It was bad enough that she had ruined the one lead they had on Otto’s murder.

“You are not Pregnant” She muttered to herself praying that it was the truth as she stood up reaching for the test. Inhaling the deepest of breaths she looked down, time stood still as she read ‘Positive’ on the stick. “No” she whimpered standing frozen. “No” Again she wouldn’t accept her fate.

Everything around her began to close in around her, the air became thick and hard to breathe in. The shock set in around her making her stomach knot like never before. Dropping the test to the floor Scarlet began to panic. All she could do was hold onto the countertop trying to focus on breathing. Tears fell into the sink while her mind turned over half a dozen times until there was a knock on the door. “Well?” David’s voice traveled through the wood door. He tried to open it when she didn’t answer but Scarlet had locked it.

“I can’t. I can not do this” She said out loud more for herself then David. She didn’t know how long after that she waited but when she finally opened the door David was sitting on the floor, quick to his feet when she appeared. Her eyes swollen from crying, David frowned, not saying anything he pulled her into a hug.

“You can do it. You are a strong woman, you just need to tell Jax and you guys will figure it out. He is a good father.” Scarlet shoved him back shaking her head.

“No. Jax can not know about this. Do you hear me David? You can’t tell him” She warned with fear in her eyes.

“You have to tell him! He is the father right?” David instantly flipped from concerned to angry. He didn’t know what she was thinking but he knew she was wrong whatever was going on in her head.

“I just.. I need time. I need to figure this out. You are my friend not his you can’t tell him!” Once again Scarlet snapped shoving David in the chest. He could see the fear in her eyes, he tried to put his own feelings aside to understand hers but he couldn’t.

“You tell him soon Scar or I do.” David stepped aside letting Scarlet push past him running up to her room shutting the door locking it. Scarlet couldn’t think straight all she wanted to do was pass out and not deal with the horrific truth.

0 notes