darkthingshappen

[darkthingshappen]

What a year this week has been.

[darkthingshappen]

Well damn. Bastard man is bastard. lol. No surprise there. Poor Joshy. I want to snuggle him. I want to wrap him in soft warm blankets and feed him all his favorites. lol. Not what Felix is giving him. Bleh. Hahahahahahaha. God I love this story so much. 🫶🏻

Play Pretend [Kurtis & Josh drabble] - PART TWO!

CW: Yandere whumper, aggressive whumper, carewhumper, kidnapped/captivity, beatings, torture (whipping, not shown only aftermath), implied/fade to black noncon, emotional and physical abuse, restraints, gags, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, talks of death, blood mention, adult language (I beg! Let me know if I have missed any!)

A part two! Kurtis has some strong words for Felix and Felix and Josh reconcile... I really be putting Josh through the wringer (I promise I love him. In my own special way <3 )

PART ONE HERE!

----

Josh was wasting away, in both broken body and beaten mind. He was a sorry sight; already three-quarters dead. 

Beyond his bloodied mask of pain, Kurtis had seen a haunted face that bore the weight of untold suffering. A face aged beyond its years, so weathered by his torment, the once young lad now looked twenty years older for it. Crow's feet besieged his dull, sunken eyes and frown lines etched between his brows. Poor bastard. How much must he suffer in the name of Felix’s twisted ‘love’? How many more will suffer the same fate after him…?

“Do you want him dead?” Kurtis lambasted, bursting through Felix’s bedroom door like a bull in a china shop. Felix jumped out of his damn skin. “Hm? Go on. You after a lover or a corpse, mate? Or, I know, how about a zombie? Yeah? A mindless zombie? That what ya want? ‘Cause that’s what you’re gonna get-”

“Oh, spare me the fucking dramatics, Kurt,” Felix spat, his scowl alone made Kurtis’ blood curdle. He couldn’t ever imagine being in Josh’s shoes, so helpless and frail, on the receiving end of Felix’s wrath. “I won’t let you paint me the villain in all of this. He’s no innocent.”

Oh, but he was. A complete and utter innocent. Josh wasn’t deserving of this living hell. Kurtis had watched over the past few months how every word from Felix’s lips was a knife to Josh’s throat and every movement a paralysing threat. How tears would carve their way down his cheeks, like a raging river gouging stone, more times than a smile has ever crossed his lips. Whatever this was, it obviously wasn’t love - though Kurtis would never dare voice that. He just desperately wished it didn’t have to be this way. 

“He didn’t deserve that, Felix,” Kurtis rubbed his temples hard, kneading the stress out. Trying to work the image of Josh's black and blue body out of his mind. “You know he didn’t.”

“I didn’t deserve to be attacked!” Felix near screamed in his defence, the victim complex coming through in full-force.

“He was scared! He’s only human, he has his limits. You’re overwhelming him.”

The boy needed a sliver of reprieve. A chance to exist, be and breathe. Even in his few and far between moments of isolation, pain was Josh’s constant companion. Relentless agony, around the clock. How could Josh ever come out of fight or flight? He wants and tries so desperately to be good, but his body rebels against him.

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t know how to love or be loved. I’m trying to break his walls down.”

“You’re breaking him. Not his walls,” Kurtis declared. That seemed to stun Felix, his mind churning in thought. “You need to take a good step back. When he’s acting out - sure. Fine. Lock him down in that basement and let him rot for a good while. But you need to take the time to compose yourself and not go back to him until you’ve calmed the hell down. You went too far, Felix. Keep going that way and you’re going to lose him. You’ll kill him-”

Kurtis’ words hung heavy in the air. Felix’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing into a dangerous glint. Yet, beneath the surface, a flicker of doubt ignited. A seed of uncertainty began to take root and the sobering realisation crashed down on him. 

Felix sank heavily onto his bed, shoulders slumping and face buried in his hands. “All I want is to shower him with my love. I want to make him happy. Why is that so hard for his tiny mind to grasp?” Felix sighed dramatically.  “He’s never satisfied. I don’t know what to do with him anymore.”

“Get down there and talk to him. Man to man, heart to heart. Use your words and not your fists, for once in your life.”

Felix hesitated, balling the bedspread in his clenched fist. He looked up, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “He started it. I just finished it.”

Kurtis rolled his eyes so far back he could see his brain. Felix always has to be the one to throw his toys out the pram and tantrum like a child.

“For what it’s worth, the lad’s remorseful,” Kurtis added. “He said he was sorry.”

“Yeah?” Felix’s interest piqued, his ears pricked up, “He said that?”

“He did. And I’m sure if you gave him the chance to talk, he’d tell you to your face. Go down there, and build the bridge back. Let this shitshow be water under it.”

------

Josh had often wondered what dying would feel like. It was never something he had to consider back when his life was his own, when it stretched out before him with promise and potential. But if he had to guess, he'd wager that dying feels something like this. 

It’s dark. They normally describe ‘a light’, don't they? When people reach their timely end. But Josh felt darkness closing in on him, shadows stealing him away. Maybe there was no light at the end of the tunnel for him. There was no heaven waiting for him, and there's no hell he could go to, which is worse than the one he was already living. 

A cold, creeping numbness snuck through Josh’s limbs, replacing the crippling pain that thrummed through his entire being. He felt like he was being hollowed from the inside out. His breath, ragged and laboured, was slowing to a near standstill. The world faded into a blur as his still-good eye slipped shut, the struggle ebbing away.

Then, a sharp sound shattered the facade of tranquillity. The metallic click and clang of locks, the jingle jangle of keys echoed through the confined space. A surge of adrenaline shot through Josh. It was as if his barely beating heart had suddenly leaped to life.

Is it possible for the air to be stolen from your lungs, and feel a breath of fresh air at once? Elation in the face of impending doom? Terror and relief warred within Josh. Felix was here, whether Josh wanted him to be or not. Here to finish what they started? To right the wrongs?  If Felix makes any apologies then Josh knows he definitely has died, because never in Felix’s life has he ever uttered the words ‘sorry’. 

For Josh, this may be his one chance to make amends, to face the music for his abhorrent actions. Nod and agree. Do whatever he can to keep Felix sweet and survive one day more. As Felix’s footsteps thud down the stairs, Josh weakly fumbled to quickly shove the spit-soaked gag that hung limp around his neck back into his mouth. If Felix saw him, not as he left him, it would ruin any chance of a sunny reunion. 

Wordlessly, Felix perched by Josh’s side. His large hands peeled Josh from the cot, gently lifting his frail form. As he scooped him up into his arms, Josh winced and whimpered - his face screwing up tight in anguish. The raw wounds on his back burned in protest to the sudden movement. Josh couldn't meet his captor’s eyes, although he knew he probably should. He should stare the devil in the eyes and hold his own…but he’s too scared of what he might see inside. 

Yet, with a gentle but firm grip, Felix tilted his chin to face him. Josh’s vision blurred as the tears welled up, threatening to spill over.

“Hey there, pretty blue eyes,” Felix cooed. 

That was all it took for Josh to fall apart. His spirit so broken, he involuntarily collapsed into Felix’s open arms. His body convulsing, sobs muffled through the gag. Josh would surrender to this life if it could be like this all the time, gentle and tender, even if it was all a sick fantasy. 

“Look what you’ve done to us, sweetheart. You’re tearing us apart. I can’t stand it. I hate fighting with you.”

Josh hated it too. Neither of them wanted this. If only Josh could take it all back and go back to moments before he lost control… he would shut up and put up and just let it fucking happen. Nothing could stop it happening, it only served to delay the inevitable. 

“You know that all I’ve ever wanted to do is love you senseless,” Felix whispered. He ran a hand through Josh’s hair, hushing his cries as he shivered and sniffled. 

“Shh. Settle now,” Felix cupped Josh’s cheek, thumbing away rolling tears, “I don’t want you to cry, baby. I want you to beg for my forgiveness. I know you have something you’d like to say to me. Something that might help heal the wound.”

With a sigh, Felix reached up and tugged the gag free. Josh gasped, his breath ragged and the words came tumbling out, “I - m’ s-sorry…please b-believe me - I’m so - so s..sorry- I’ll - b-behave-”

“I don’t know what hurt me more; the scratches down my cheek, or when I watched the boy I love become consumed by hatred.”

“I-I don’t kn-know what came over me,” Josh rasped, “I - I think I was over t-tired-”

-and starving. And scared out of his wits. And hurt beyond imagination. “s’ no excuse,” he hiccuped, “I - I didn’t m-mean to hurt you, I swear on my life-”

Josh couldn’t help but think that he can’t bet something he doesn’t have. Josh’s life is not his own to swear on…Felix had already taken it.

“I couldn’t recognise you, baby. That nasty, spoilt brat that attacked me? That’s not my beautiful angel that I fell head over heels for. This is. So sweet and gentle, wanting and docile.”

Josh’s heart was beating out of his ribcage. Disgust and humiliation flooded in. How could he let himself sink so low, to be everything Felix wanted him to be? When did he let it happen? He was merely a shadow of himself, and Felix would even rip his shadow from him if he could.

“I want to forgive you,” Felix hummed, “My heart wants to find a way for us to move past this mess you’ve created - together. I need you to show me how sorry you are.”

“W-What can I do?” Josh questioned, determined. “To make this all better? Tell m-me - I’ll move mountains to…to make it right again.”

“I want to pick up where we left off. Exactly where we left off…” Felix purred. His hand slips between Josh’s leg and caresses his thigh, before guiding his legs apart. “No whining. No wriggling. No fighting back. A relationship is give and take…I give and you take…like a good boy.”

Josh felt his face flush. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

“I-I can’t - my - Felix, my back- ”

“You can lay on your tummy, if you want, sweetie…” Felix’s lips curled into a harrowing smile. Josh told himself he’d lie back and accept it, but the panic still festered and bubbled at the thought. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

“Or…your knees are perfectly fine, and so are those pretty lips,” Felix purred, stroking his thumb along Josh’s cracked and split lips. “It’s all up to you, gorgeous. I’ll let you choose how you want to say sorry to me.”

Choose, he thought bitterly. Every decision, every action, was dictated by Felix's whims. There’s no true choice in this. It’s going to hurt, no matter what, and he can’t do anything to stop it. At least he can alleviate it.

“H-Help me onto my knees?” Josh asked meekly, in defeat.

Felix hummed his approval. His grip tightened around Josh's wrist, pulling him forward from the bed. With a strained grunt, Josh stumbled and fell to his knees. The whip marks, raw and inflamed, throbbed with every panicked breath. He gritted his teeth, trying to stifle the cry of pain that threatened to escape his lips.

“You know what to do.”

----

tagging people that asked or expressed interest!

@soursagas @phoenixpromptsandstuff @sorrowful-hyacinth @wishiwaskidnapped @whumperstorm @alexmundaythrufriday

[darkthingshappen]

This is so good. There’s a reason Play Pretend is still my favorite. I love ALL of your stories, but this one is close to my heart. 🤌🏻❤️

Play Pretend [Kurtis & Josh drabble]

CW: Yandere whumper, aggressive whumper, carewhumper, kidnapped/captivity, beatings, torture (whipping, not shown only aftermath), implied noncon, emotional and physical abuse, restraints, gags, whump/torture aftercare, wound cleaning, blood mention, adult language (I beg! Let me know if I have missed any!)

PART TWO HERE!

----

God forbid, what the poor lad looks like now.

Kurtis paled at the thought of what may have become of Josh. When he first met him, back when he was first taken, there was fire beneath the fear. A determination that defied his pain. But now, Kurtis debated what could be waiting for him on the other side of the door. Whether the boy would be skin and bones…or ashes and dust. It wasn’t an impossibility, was it? Given Felix’s less than shiny track record.

With a four-pack of beer dangling from one hand and a stack of frozen pizza boxes precariously balanced and teetering on the other, Kurtis kicked the door open. Inside, Felix sat alone in shadowed silence, hunched over on the sofa, his head buried in his hands.

“Oi oi,” Kurtis chirped, his voice echoing through the empty room. “Where’s your better half hidin’?”

Felix didn’t bother to look back. 

“Basement.”

His tone was venomous. There was a dangerous stillness to him, a simmering rage bubbling just beneath the surface. Kurtis hesitated, knowing better than to poke the bear. As he edged closer, he noticed a series of deep scratches raking down Felix’s cheek - raw, red and angry.

“I could have fucking killed him, Kurt,” Felix spat, “Look what he fucking did to me.” His finger jabbed towards the inflamed wounds shredding through his face.

"Shitttt," Kurtis breathed. He drops the four-pack and stack of pizzas to the floor, his hand flying to his mouth in shock. The sight was horrific. Felix looked like he'd been mauled by a wild animal. Kurtis could ask why Josh would do that, but he knows why. He could only imagine the terror and pain Josh must have endured to lose control like that. The lad’s a fighter through and through, and Kurtis can’t say he blames him.

But fighting back does him more harm than good. Josh should have learnt that by now.

“I give that brat everything! My heart and soul. I love him down to the bone!” Felix roared, spittle spraying and veins bulging at his temples, “And this is what I get?! Do you think I deserve this shit?!”

Felix’s body trembled with irrepressible rage, as if it were being torn apart from the inside out. The fury coursing through him was so intense, Kurtis feared he might burst an artery.

“Just take some time, yeah?” Kurtis crouched down to his level, placing his hand on Felix’s bouncing knees, “Breathe. Take a minute to yourself. Maybe sleep on it. You’re wound up-”

“Of course I’m fucking wound up, he attacked me!” Felix bellowed.

“I know, mate. I know. But lashin’ out ain’t gonna solve anything, is it? It'll only make it worse. You’re gonna push him further away, you don’t want that.”

Felix’s usually warm and soft brown eyes had narrowed to slits, a storm raging within. His jaw clenched, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he ground his teeth together. There would be no getting through to him, not like this. 

“How long’s e been down there for, then?” Kurtis sighed, pushing himself up to his feet.

“A few hours. A day? I don’t know. Don’t care,” Felix shrugged dismissively. It’s just a facade. When he cools down he’ll be fawning all over Josh again, he’ll be glued to him.

“I’ll go check in on him.”

“No,” Felix barked, “Leave him down there. I want him to stew on what he’s done.”

“And I wanna have a word with him. I bet I can knock some sense into that stubborn head of his.”

Kurtis made his way to the basement door, unbolting the sliding locks and turning the key. The basement was sub-zero, without a doubt, his skin broke out into goosebumps from the first step. His breath fogged before him in the frigid air. His eyes strained against the darkness, trying to make out something out of nothing. The only light a faint, flickering bulb swaying overhead. A shiver trickled down his spine as he descended deeper into the depths.

What Kurtis saw made his blood run cold - colder than the bitter air around him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t this. Any frustration with the boy dissipated in a heartbeat as pity crept in to take its place. 

Josh laid on his belly, half-hanging off the metal cot - like he’d crawled to his ‘bed’ but couldn’t muster the energy to heave his body completely up. The chain around his ankle snaked across the floor, marking his trail from the drain to where he’d collapsed. His hands still cuffed above his head. Whip marks criss crossed the entirety of his back, slashed to smithereens, leaving crimson welts blooming against his sickly pale skin. He couldn’t lie on his back even if he wanted to.

And Josh’s face? It made Felix’s wounds look like a little kitty scratch. A bruised eye, the color of grapes, was swollen shut. His still good-eye, streaming with tears, watched Kurtis like a hawk. A rag soaked with blood and saliva was jammed into his mouth, his lips busted and split around the gag.

“Oh, mate,” Kurtis exhaled, his voice heavy with concern. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Josh couldn’t stop sniffling, his Adam's apple fluttering as he swallowed down his sobs. This was in no way comparable to Felix’s injury, this wasn’t a level playing field. Kurtis hovered his palms over Josh’s back, just above his raw, open wounds. Jesus christ, he could feel the heat radiating from his skin, it felt like he was holding his hands to a bonfire.

He knelt beside Josh, his heart aching at the sight of the lad’s injuries. He didn’t deserve this, despite what he did. It’s not proportionate - it’s overkill. The boy’s good eye rolled in its socket before trying to drift shut with pain and exhaustion. Kurtis tentatively reached a hand out to tuck away the strand of hair hanging in front of Josh’s black eye, but panic fills Josh - he flinches away from his hand and cries out into the gag.

“Hey, hey! Easy now,” Kurtis soothes. “You’re alright. I ain’t gonna hurt you, just tryna get a good look at the damage.”

Suspicion and doubt crossed Josh’s face, but he had no choice but to accept. He let Kurtis tuck his hair away from his face, and trace the unmarred skin around his bruise. Kurtis sucked his teeth and shook his head in disapproval. Too far. He went too fucking far. Again.

Kurtis carefully pried the gag free from Josh’s beestung lips and let it fall around his neck. “Tell me your side of the story, man. What the shitting hell happened?”

Josh’s lip quivered. He gulped before he spoke. “He - He tried to r…r-a…p-,” Josh couldn’t finish the word before he fell apart. Kurtis was sure he’d never seen such pain and suffering in his life, not even the other ones endured hell like this. Josh was an inconsolable wreck, hiccuping and choking on his tears, “I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I c-can’t do this. Please - I’m tired-”

A cry for mercy. Kurtis hears it, but he’s too stunned into silence to warrant it with a response.

“I just wanted him to stop. I-I wanted to make it stop. I-I didn’t mean t-to hurt him, I swear-” Josh squalls desperately. And somehow, Kurtis knew he was telling the truth. Josh didn’t want to hurt Felix…but he needed to. In a moment of panic, pain and humiliation blurring together, Josh’s body overrode his head and heart. Fuck. Kurtis promised himself he wouldn’t feel sympathetic for this one….

“Let’s get you cleaned up, eh?” Kurtis swiftly changed the subject. “That might help you feel a bit better.”

He ran back up to the kitchen and grabbed what he could before sprinting back to Josh’s side. A bag of frozen peas from the freezer, a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the medicine cupboard, a dishcloth from under the sink. 

“Can I clean your wounds, dude? I’d hate for ‘em to get infected. You don’t need any more strife, do ya?”

Josh weakly nodded his head and groaned his agreement. Kurtis doused the washcloth in the alcohol and touched it to one of the gashes. Josh bucked like a mule and shrieked in pain.

"Shh, I know. Sorry.” Kurtis murmured, his voice filled with sympathy. He gently pressed down between Josh’s shoulder blades, forcing him flat against the cot, "I know it hurts. I’ll be as quick as I can, yeah?”

Kurtis worked thoroughly at cleaning and sanitising Josh’s wounds, even as Josh wept and every muscle in his body tensed and trembled. Once he was done with the wounds, he handed the frozen peas over to Josh. With his cuffed wrists, Josh took the cold compress in his shaking hands and held it against his eye.

“Keep holding that there. Should help with the swelling. Lemme know if it thaws and I’ll find ya something else.”

Josh sniffled again. “I m-must have done something pretty horrible in a past life,” he murmured miserably. Kurtis can’t help but recall how his eyes were so bright when they first met - even if they were twinkling with fear. Now they were just dull, and lifeless. The tears don’t stop rolling down his gaunt cheeks.

“I-...I’m going to die here…aren’t I?” Josh whispered, his voice cracking and broken.

This time Kurtis did dignify it with a response. “No. You’re not going to die. Not here. Not while I’m around. I’ll keep him in check.”

“E-Even when I’m o-old…and grey. If I’m still here then-?” the young lad croaked.

Kurtis perished the thought. He didn’t even know if Felix would still keep him around when he’s grey and old and past it. Or if he’d die long before that day even comes. What could he ever say to make it any easier?

“That’s not going to happen,” he settled on instead. It wasn’t really lying. Josh probably won’t make it to that point - not if the state of him now is anything to go by.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Josh scoffed, and Kurtis could have sworn he saw the slightest twinge of a cheeky smile through the mask of hurt. It pulled at Kurtis’ heartstrings. There’s not a bad bone in the boy's body… leave it to Felix to corrupt someone so innocent.

Kurtis swiped up the bottle of alcohol solution and the cloth, making his way towards the stairs.

“You’re not l-leaving, are you?” Josh fretted.

“I didn’t come here to see you today, did I?” Kurtis frowned, “You were just a little pit-stop.”

Guilt flooded in when he saw Josh’s face drop, and his body slump.

“Look, just…get some rest. Be gentle with yourself. I’ll be the peacemaker and talk to the big-guy.”

“T-Thank you…” Josh whispered. Kurtis only nodded in response and began trudging his way back upstairs.

“K-Kurtis?” Josh called after him.  “Could you tell him that I’m sorry? Please. I honestly didn’t mean to hurt him…”

“Between me and you…good on ya for getting a good lick in,” Kurtis winked down at him. “Been a long time coming, if you ask me. Just watch it, okay? I think you should count your lucky stars this time… I doubt you’ll be so lucky again…”

----

tagging people that expressed interest in this on a previous post! My apologies if you do not wish to be tagged, pls let me know and I'll refrain from doing similar in future!:

@soursagas @alexmundaythrufriday

[darkthingshappen]

what happened to Andrei ?

I haven’t said yet… ;-)

[darkthingshappen]

Hey! So I’m really excited about the King of The Road story and I may or may not want to try drawing your characters… not that they’ll be amazing, but just for fun. I wanted to know how you picture them in your head. Like, based on reading I’m guessing Danny is the one with red hair, green eyes, and slightly pale. George has oliveish skin and I’m assuming maybe dark hair or dark eyes? Danny is on the smaller, slim side in guessing and George sounds like he’s a little fuller? I think you also mentioned that Danny was taller, like 5’11 and Georgie was 5’9. That’s all I really came up with, but like do you have preferences for hair cuts or maybe blemishes like birthmarks, moles, freckles, etc. Or other things like nose or eye shape.

I know the Trucker isn’t fully fledged out or described in the story yet, but if you’d like to describe him too then that would be fun.

Thanks! -🪻

You’ve got the basics of Danny and George correct. :-) Let me have a think on this. I might try to find face-claims for them. The Trucker wears a trucker cap and has longish dirty blond hair. He’s rough around edges and rarely clean shaven. He’s lean and wiry, like all muscle, no fat, but sort of lanky. I don’t know. I can see him. In my head. He’s not posh , but he can be charming. Don’t know if that helps. Sorry for the very very very long delay. I’ll start looking for face-claims for my boys and if I find any good one’s I’ll do a King of the Road face-claim post. Also, please always feel free to message. Me. I promise I won’t bite. LOL! I have attendance to swoon over any art that drifts my way. ;-)

[darkthingshappen]

hi I was browsing through the depths of your blog when I found this piece: https://www.tumblr.com/darkthingshappen/687733342319345664/whumpers-soiree-inspired-crackfic?source=share

I would love to see it in your masterlist so it doesn't get lost again if that's okay-

I will try to make that a happen ASAP! Thanks. :-)

[darkthingshappen]

when will we see more from the trucker

Not exactly sure, but there is more coming. I have a lot plan for that series. It’s just a matter of freaking writing it! LOL. I do wish life wouldn’t get in the way so much. I’m so sorry I can’t give you a more solid answer than that. I do have more written. It’s just not yet ready to be published.

[darkthingshappen]

hi you've not been online for a bit so I just wanted to check in to see if you're okay? I sincerely hope you're doing well in life and not being hard on yourself <3

I’m good, just busy. Sorry everyone. Things are good. I had a very full summer between me and the kid. Then it was back to school way too soon. Hopefully will have some more writing updates soon. Sorry for the radio silence. I got behind. In responding to things and then it was just overwhelming to try to catch up. I shall try to be around more going forward.

Thanks for checking in anon.

[darkthingshappen]

How did Ezra end up with WRU? 😭

Hes too pure for this world

WARNINGS: BBU, adoption, child neglect, drinking mention

Aria was nine years old when the Lyles brought her home a big brother.

Ezra didn’t talk much. Hardly at all. But Aria didn’t mind, because she didn’t like talking all that much either. Sometimes she thought that was why the Lyles picked her.

She had been living there for two years already, which sort of made her feel like the older of the two, even though Ezra was three years older and a few inches taller. She wanted to be his friend, because it was lonely being in the big house with no other kids. But every attempt she made to bond with him was met with cold, prickly avoidance.

Ezra got in trouble a lot. He yelled sometimes when he got angry. Threw things, broke things. He was angry most of the time. The Lyles liked to remind him how lucky he was to have the life they gave him, and Ezra liked to remind them that they were not his parents. Though they both knew, legally, that wasn’t true.

Aria got angry a lot, too. But she kept hers quiet.

She was eleven the first time she caught Ezra drinking. He told her she could go tattle to the Lyles, that he didn’t care, but the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. Their adoptive parents were mean to Ezra. Why would she want to make it worse for him?

He didn’t believe her. But over time he must have realized that she meant it. That Aria wasn’t the same as them, that she could be trusted.

They became close after that. For a few years, they were inseparable. Aria taught him how to braid her hair, something her grandma had showed her when she was young, and he would help her in the mornings before school. Ezra taught her how to play the guitar, which she liked much more than the piano lessons the Lyles forced her to take.

She asked him to stop drinking one day. And for a while, he did.

Things got bad again when they were in high school. Ezra got around a bad group of friends and started drinking again. His anger got worse. Harder for him to manage. He told Aria once that he didn’t like being the way that he was, that he felt out of control. But the more angry he got, the more their parents tried to box him in, and he got angrier still in return. An embarrassment, they called him when he acted out in front of company. Ungrateful.

Ezra told them he shouldn’t have to be grateful for something he never wanted in the first place.

Aria was fifteen when her big brother disappeared.

He’s eighteen, her parents told her. The police can’t search for someone who wanted to go missing. Even though Aria knew how much the police liked the Lyles and their money, so they probably would have looked anyway, if they’d asked.

She knew they never asked. That they never would.

It didn’t take long to realize that Ezra hadn’t run away on his own.

Aria was nineteen when she found out what really happened to her brother. The anger she had held back for most of her life rushed to the surface, but she had to keep it in check. She had to be smart and use that anger in the right way, at the right time.

It would take her years, and it would take her to places she didn’t expect, but she knew in that moment she would do whatever it took to get her brother back.

[darkthingshappen]

Oh this is lovely. Big things in quiet moments indeed. I love these two so much. I want to cuddle them both. LOL! Lovely update. They needed the hug. Just beautiful.

Happy Birthday, Sebastian.

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, mentions of alcoholic behavior, homophobia, bad parental relationships, talk of parental death

“You didn’t mention it’s your birthday,” is the first thing Jaime says when they get back in the car. 

He’s getting better about that, Sebastian thinks. Initiating casual conversation on his own terms. On one hand, Sebastian is elated at the show of progress. On the other… 

Sebastian winces. The well-meaning bank teller had checked his ID and wished him a happy birthday while Jaime stood in earshot, keeping his expression neutral until they were alone.

“I didn’t,” Sebastian agrees, retrieving the two lollipops he had swiped from the bank from his pocket. “Red or blue?” he asks, holding them out to Jaime. 

He studies them for a few seconds—maybe trying to predict which one Sebastian prefers, maybe thinking about the strict rules around food inside the facility—before plucking the blue one from his hand. 

“Thank you,” Jaime murmurs. Then, after a pause, “Sorry. Did you not want me to know?”

Sebastian pulls the wrapper off and pops the cherry sucker in his mouth, then shifts the car into gear to avoid Jaime’s eyes. 

“It’s not a secret,” he assures him. “I just don’t like to make a big deal about it.” Or any deal at all. “I haven’t in a long time.”

For a moment, the only sound is the soft crinkle of Jaime’s wrapper as he unpeels and pockets it. “How long?” he asks.

Sebastian shrugs. “Few years,” he says, which might be understating things. He hasn’t had a real, proper, friends-gathered-round, cake-eating, too-many-shots-of-tequila birthday since his final year of undergrad. 

Well. Except for the tequila. That part doesn’t require friends.

For a moment, he braces himself for the inevitable why, but Jaime doesn’t push. Of course he doesn’t. Instead, he says something much more true to character:

“I’m sorry.”

Sebastian flashes him a quick smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “I’m hardly a social butterfly.”

“What about your friends? Do they know that you don’t like to celebrate it?”

“Kind of makes it easier that I don’t have any,” he says lightly. Or, at least he intends for it to sound light. 

Jaime glances at him with what appears to be genuine confusion. “What about Aria and Sam? Ezra?”

And that makes Sebastian blink, because…

“Oh,” he says lamely, a small kernel of guilt and surprise forming. “Well, I guess… I mean, I didn’t know them until more recently. This was my first birthday since becoming… their friend, I guess.”

“What about your family?” It’s like Jaime hears his own question as it comes out, and surely he must feel the sudden tension that grips the silence between them, because he immediately backtracks. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I shouldn’t have… That’s none of my business.”

The regret in his voice borders on fear, and Sebastian has to keep himself from reaching out to reassure him. 

“It’s alright. You’re allowed to ask me questions, Jaime. My parents…” He has to stop and swallow around a rising lump. “They’re not really in the picture.”

“Oh.”

Jaime doesn’t ask for more, but the silence—and maybe it’s not just the silence, he thinks—makes more words rush to the surface, breaching the floodgates to a subject he rarely speaks about.

“I mean, they raised me,” he rambles. “They’re alive. But I haven’t spoken to them in a long time. Since I was eighteen, to be exact.” He stops, really thinking about the expanse of time that now bridges between now and then. It feels like a mile and an inch all at once. “Almost a decade, now,” he adds quietly.

Sebastian is fairly familiar with the careful way Jaime chooses his words, so he’s not surprised when he takes a while to chew his next ones over, patient and only a little bit nervous.

“I’m sure you have a good reason.”

“Ha,” the bitter noise startles out of Sebastian. “Yeah, no, it wasn’t quite my decision.”

“Oh,” Jaime whispers. “They…?”

Sebastian nods, keeping his eyes straight ahead and his grip steady on the wheel. “They are religious,” he said, keeping his voice detached. “Traditional. Whatever you want to call it. And they didn’t take kindly to their only son coming out.” Sebastian flashes him a wry grin. “In case you weren’t aware, I’m extremely gay.”

Jaime doesn’t return the smile. “They kicked you out?”

“Technically, I was already leaving. I told them right before I moved away to college, but… Yeah. They cut me off completely after that. Anyway,” he finishes ineloquently. “My birthday isn’t much of a problem for them, either.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaime repeats. 

“Thanks, Jaime. It's okay, really. I’m fine now.” I’m fine now, he repeats internally, for good measure. I turned out fine.

For a moment, it almost seems like Jaime is going to argue, but he settles back into the seat instead, turning his head toward the window. 

They’re a few minutes from home when Jaime speaks again.

“My parents were out of the picture, too,” he says softly.

Sebastian has to grip the wheel so as not to crash the car out of utter shock. Because he can count on approximately one finger the number of things he knows about Jaime’s past, and this piece of information carries weight he didn’t expect to be handed right now. He wants to cradle this secret between his palms with all the delicacy of balancing a bubble on skin. 

“Yeah?” Sebastian nudges him carefully, stealing a glance in his periphery.

A single nod. “They died when I was young. Both of them. I... I grew up in foster care.”

It’s strange, what happens when you begin to build a relationship with someone from the ground up; how a piece of the puzzle can come in and snap others into place. How one sliver of context can start to paint a picture. How it can break your heart for the person sitting next to you, and also give you some insight on how they got there to begin with. 

An ugly chain of events begins to take root in his mind: passed from one government system to another, another vulnerable statistic slipping through the cracks. 

“I…,” Sebastian begins and immediately falters. “Jaime, I don’t...”

“I’m not supposed to talk about them,” Jaime says. "Or any of it."

“I know.”

“It’s hard to remember them clearly. It’s been so long.”

“You can talk about them with me,” Sebastian offers, knowing he is tiptoeing on precarious grounds. “If it helps to remember them.” Jaime nods, and Sebastian wishes he could reach over and take his hand. “How old were you? Only if you're comfortable saying.”

Sebastian watches the jerk of his throat as he swallows. “Eleven.”

“God, Jaime, you were just a baby.” You’re still so young. 

They come to a stop in the driveway, and Sebastian kills the engine, plunging them into a heavy quiet. From beside him, Jaime’s hands are a constant twitch of nervous energy.

“I want to say something,” Jaime says. “I… I don’t want to overstep. I’m sorry if I…” He stops to clear his throat, then looks up, piercing Sebastian through the middle with a rare moment of held eye contact. “I think your parents are wrong. For wanting you out of their lives.”

The contempt dripping from the word "wrong"—a brand new edge to Jaime’s normally soft spoken tone—suggests there is something far worse he’d like to say. But the fact that Jaime has voiced this much negative emotion at all speaks volumes. And despite the sore spot of the subject matter, something like fondness glows bright in his chest. 

He holds Jaime’s eyes for a few more seconds. “That’s nice of you to say.”

Jaime lets out a slow breath. He nods. 

As they retrieve the paper grocery bags from the trunk, Jaime’s shoulder brushes warmly against his own for just a fleeting second. “Happy birthday, Sebastian,” he says. 

When he smiles, the inner edge of his lips are tinted blue from the candy.

Sebastian, carefully, lets his shoulder nudge him back. “Thank you,” he says. “For that, and for telling me about your parents.”

He doesn’t say: your trust is the best gift I could have asked for. But he means it all the same.

****

When Sebastian comes out of his room, just after sunset, he stops short at the warm-sugared aroma of the house. His nose leads him to the kitchen, where he finds a small, circular cake sitting on the table. A singular candle flame flickers in the low light, and behind it, Jaime. The shadows dance over his mask of trepidation, his fidgeting hands held at waist height. 

“I hope this doesn’t count as a big deal,” Jaime says quickly, as if he’s been rehearsing the words in his head. “I found a pack of candles in the back of the cabinet, and you already had all the ingredients to make it from scratch, so I figured…” He stops short, eyes widening. “Are you okay?”

It is only then that Sebastian feels the moisture beading down his cheek. He wipes it away, a breathy, startled laugh escaping him.

“I kind of want to hug you right now.” The words sort of stumble out without much thought, and he stiffens as he hears them, ready to snatch them back.

But Jaime says, “You can, if you want.” He must hear the passive choice of words as he says it, read the apprehension on Sebastian’s face, because he shakes his head and rephrases. “I want you to. I’d like to give you a hug.”

And then he’s stepping around the table, and Jaime is in front of him. He holds his eyes for a moment, checking and double checking that this is alright. When Sebastian raises his arms in invitation, just a few cautious inches, Jaime steps into them.

It’s slow and soft, and it doesn’t linger. Just a few precious seconds of Jaime’s hands pressed flat against Sebastian’s back, of Sebastian’s arms featherlight above Jaime’s shoulders, and the warm pulse of heartbeats where their chests touch between them.

The cake is still warm, the frosting slightly melty, when Sebastian takes his first bite. He nearly cries all over again at the taste. Sebastian makes sure to cut Jaime the slightly larger slice, and relishes in watching him finish the whole thing.

They spend the rest of their Saturday night curled under blankets on opposite ends of the sofa, with Bella stretched out between them. Jaime’s eyes start to drift during the opening credits of their third movie, and by the end he is fast asleep. Sebastian allows himself a few selfish moments to watch him at peace. His mouth hangs slightly agape. Bella, who has crawled onto Jaime’s chest at some point in the night, vibrates with soft purrs against his neck. 

Sebastian blinks hard and remembers the wish he made as he blew out the candle—the first he had made since he was a child. 

Please, let him be happy. Please, let him be free.

*

@whumpervescence 

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[darkthingshappen]

Wait- does Dmitri being heartbroken imply that

Yes. Yes it does. They were very on the DL and still a bit closeted. Volkov didn't care since he's bi. But yep. They were indeed.

[darkthingshappen]

HOW DARE HE STILL TREAT ANDREI LIKE THAT IT HAS BEEN ONE LONG FUCKING YEAR ACTUALLY MORE THAN A YEAR AND THAT WAS JUST ONE TINY EETY BEETY INFRACTION ON HIS PART AND HE'S STILL THREATENING TO PUT HIM IN A MUZZLE??? YOU THREATEN ANDREI?? YOU THREATEN THE GOOD DOCTOR?? HELL FOR VOLKOV!! HELL FOR VOLKOV!!FOR A GAZILLION YEARS!!! AND THE OTHER THREE IDIOTS TOO HOW DARE YOU NOT DO ANYTHING FUCK YOU MR 'I KNOW WHO PAYS MY BILLS UNLIKE ANDREI' NICKOLAI DO YOU SEE HIS SHAKING HANDS?? HOW CAN YOU NOT FEEL AWFUL FOR HIM YOU'RE NOT EVEN FUCKING ATTRACTED TO HIM SO STOP TORTURING HIM HE LITERALLY HAS NOT DONE IT AGAIN FOR OVER A YEAR OVER A YEAR OVER A YEAR OVEERR A YEAAAR VOLKOOV GET HIM OUT OF THE DITCH ACTUALLY JUST LET HIM GO COMPLETELY HE DID NOTHING WRONG AND YOU WERE WORKING JUST FINE ON THAT ISLAND WITHOUT HIM SO YOU'RE PERFECTLY CAPABLE JUST LET ANDREI GO SO THAT HE DOESN'T PAY FOR YOUR STUPID ASS CRIMES AFTER THE RAID ON YOUR HOUSE AND ON THAT NOTE HOW DARE THEY IMPRISON ANDREI?? ANDREI??? THE ONLY GOOD SOUL IN THE ENTIRE HOUSE?? YOU IMPRISON ANDREI??? FUCK YOU FICTIONAL RUSSIAN GOVERNMENT!! AND JUST WHEN HE'D HAVE GOTTEN A CHANCE TO GET TO AMERICA THROUGH BEN'S WEDDING?? VOLKOV SNATCHED HIM AWAY?? AGAIN?????? AGAIN!!! AGAAAIN!!???!?!?!? WHYYYYYYYYYYYY!! WHAT DID HE DOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! AND THE BARE LITTLE TOUCHES HE HAS BEEN FORCED TO GIVE BEN AS A TOKEN OF HIS SYMPATHY AND AFFECTION? HRNNNGGHHHHHHHHH!!! THEY NEED TO HUG!! THEY NEED A HUG ASAAP!!! LET ANDREI GET BACK TO HIS FAMILY SCOT FREEE!!!! STUPID FICTIONAL GOVERNMENT AND STUPID FICTIONAL VILLIANS FUCK YOU VOLKOV GO DIE IN A DITCH ALL ALONE AND THEN SPEND THE ENTIRETY OF YOUR AFTERLIFE IN THE WORST PART OF HELL WHERE YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO HURT ANY NICE DOCTORS EVER AGAIN!!! ANDREI IS A DOCTOR!! A FUCKING DOCTOR!!! HE'S SUPPOSED TO HELP PEOPLE!!! HELP PEOPLE GET BETTER!!! NOT PREPARE PEOPLE FOR MORE TORTURE!!!! THIS IS WRONG!!! VERY VERY WRONG!!! SOO UNFAIR SO SO SO SO SO UNFAIR!! JUSTICE FOR ANDREI!! JUSTICE FOR ANDREI FOR A THOUSAND YEARS!!! JUSTICE FOR ANDREI FOREVER!! SOMEONE GIVE HIM MINOR AMNESIA SO HE FORGETS ALL THE AWFUL VOLKOVY STUFF!! VERY VERY GOOD KILLING ILYA GOOD JOB FICTIONAL AMERICAN GOVERNMENT!! AGENT VAAUGHHHHNN GOOD JOBB!! GOOD JOB!! YOU SAVE BEN?? YOU SAVE BEN FROM UGLY EVIL CREATURES??? RAISE FOR AGENT VAUGHN! RASIE FOR AGENT VAUGHN FOR A THOUSAN YEARS!! BANISH THE EVIL MEN AND THEIR RECEDING HAIRLINES!! STUPID CAMERA FUCKING NERD HE BETTER HAVE GOTTEN CAPTURED TOO WHY NOT MAKE HIM SUFFER IN ANDREIS PLACE?? HE'S WORSE?? HE'S UGLY??? WHAT'S THE PROBLEM??? OR BETTER YET KILL HIM TOO SO HE SUFFERS DOUBLE IN THE AFTERLIFE!!! STUPID FUCKING UGLY ASS IDIOT!! BET HE SLEEPS TO ANIME PILLOWS BECAUSE HE CAN'T CONSENSUALLY GET A GIRL!! JUST BECAUSE SHE IS STATED TO BE A THOUSAN YEARS OLD DOESN'T MAKE IT NOT PEDOPHILIA IF SHE STILL LOOKS NINE YEARS OLD NICKOLAI!! I HOPE YOU CRACK YOUR GLASSES AND THEY GET INTO YOUR EYE SOCKETS AND INTO YOUR BRAIN AND GIVE YOU PERMANENT BRAIN DAMAGE AND BLINDNESS THOUGH YOU ALREADY HAVE THE FORMER FICTIONAL SPETSNAZ MY ASS!! AND THE OTHER TWO WITH THEIR STUPID PUG FACES!!! ILYA YOU'LL NEVER BE VOLKOV S NUMBER TWO?? HOW DOES THAT FEEL HUH?? OH WAIT YOU'RE DEAD!!! AND AND DMITRI YOU CAN IMITATE VOLKOV ALL YOU WANT BUT YOU NEVER WILL BE HIM!! HOW DOES THAT FEEL HUH?? OH WAIT YOU'RE DEAD TOO!! BURN IN HELL!! SUFFER SUFFER FOR YOUR SINS!! ALEXSEI 'I MADE MY EMPIRE ON MY OWN AND I ANSWER TO NO ONE FOR IT' VOLKOV!! YOU WILL HAVE NOT EVEN A CAGE TO YOUR NAME IN HELL!! HRJEJSNSNSNZBDBNDNDNSSKKEOEKEJEBRBEBENNSSNNSNSKKJFJNFJDJDEJIEKEKRJTBTBBEBEJWKSOWOWHEBENWJWJSJSJSNSNSNSNSN#NDNJEJEJSBSBDBFHFIOSAOWNEBRVVRHRJTJTJRIEKSJJJDHHBABDBUMAN D UIUR STHOID EYEBBRWOSBL EYEBRWOS LOOK LKEK STARVEING CATERPILLARS YIU BREAK EVRYY BMKIROOR YOU LOOK AT DIEDIEDIEDIDDIEDIEDEE GIVE BACK MY MONEH

Ls. Love your workbauhojr sorry forthebrantc goso nhitte ngoightbn night hmn

...

... {Processing}

Wow...

Um... Thanks? I guess? This has to be the craziest review/ask I've ever gotten. I-

Wow. I don't even know exactly how to respond. LOL. Yes, Ilya bit the dust and Ben was rescued. Yes they arrested everyone who was there. No, Volkov was not there and nor was Dmitri. Yes, Andrei was there. Nikolai's fate has yet to be addressed. Sorry. He does tend to be a bit of an afterthought. Oops.

I'm sorry this sort of broke you. LOL. The story is not over, just this particular arc, but obviously there is still a lot more to come. Lol. Be safe and only read going forward if your mental health is okay. Take some deep breaths. Touch some grass maybe?

In all seriousness, thank you so much for this. It made my day. :-D I adore writing Ben's story and it's just the cherry on top that other people like it and are emotionally invested in it. <3

[darkthingshappen]

Oh that's why Ilya wasn't mentioned much! he was, well, dead! lmao

Yep... Not much you can do with a character after that. LOL. I knew when I mapped this story out early on he'd be the one to snuff it during Ben's first rescue. We shall have to see how other's fair as the story continues.

[darkthingshappen]

Absolutely loved your recent piece! (Love all your works really-). I don't know how or why but it felt more brutal than even the Christmas one (shudders on that one too tho). Maybe because your writing has improved even more? But just the way you describe everything is so so so raw (it has always been that way but this one just hit so hard I nearly cried)

Ps. If Ben could take one object with him into captivity for keepsies what would he choose?

~ 🐢 anon

Psps. Do u mind more asks?

Awwww. Thank you so much for reaching out to let me know. Ben is my child. My baby. I pour my heart and soul into his story. LOL. Ben has utterly lost himself by this point. He's in his head and not sure how to get out or if he even wants to.

As to your question, initially Ben would have said his Bible. However, I think after a couple of weeks he would have simply preferred warm a blanket or a soft hoodie. Not that his Bible isn't still important to him. But he has a lot of the passages that meant the most to him memorized, so the blanket would be more practical. Still, that being said, being able to read again would give his mind something to do. But as you can see by that last piece, his mind is shot by the time he gets rescued. Interesting to think about though, isn't it? If he'd been able to engage mentally with other things, would have have retreated so far into himself. I'm not sure that I even know the answer.

My ask box is ALWAYS open. I love getting asks. Please feel free to send more. :-)

Thanks Turtle anon. Always a pleasure.

[darkthingshappen]

RopeObsession by formant

Find him on: Pixiv / ArtUntamed / Subscribestar / Fanbox

[darkthingshappen]

[darkthingshappen]

Huh, I didn't see that coming.

- Me writing a story written and outlined by me.

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