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berrykook · 4 years

Text

overtime (y!jk)

inspired by #4 on this prompt list

in which you’re fed up with the office temp jungkook and a terrifying experience at the end of a week of overtime together leads you straight back to him

contents: yandere!jungkook, kidnapping, foul play, violence, no smut (i cannot tag a yandere fic as sfw in good conscience i simply cannot)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: got stoned and wrote a yandere fic i’m sorry lmfao

*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

The thread of patience you had left was being steadily thinned as sweat began to collect on the back of your neck for the fifth day in a row. You thought you were seeing red, but that was just the blood-colored light that filled the office at the same time each night. You cursed your boss under your breath as you brought your USB-powered desk fan impossibly closer to you. He knew you would have to pull the weight of your team and work late every night this week, yet he did nothing about the air conditioning that turned off before the sun even set. You wiped your forehead and shot another quick glare at the doe-eyed temp who had recently wormed his way into your workplace. As it had been for each night that week, you and him (Junghwan? Or was it Jungwoo?) were the only two remaining in the office. As it had also been for each night that week, the kid was on your last nerve.

He was an excellent worker, albeit nervous and a tad awkward. Your female coworkers seem to have taken a liking to him, which only further irritated you as it felt like no work had been done upon his arrival. Despite his mousiness, he had already gotten along well with your branch manager who never failed to personally see that your day was worsened somehow. In a month, he had managed to win over your boss as if they had known each other for years. You did know Hoseok for a number of years, and he still treated you like dirt.

Each night that week, the temp insisted on staying late with you (a nice gesture initially, but turned sour once you realized that his working pace after hours was nowhere near as fast as he worked during the day), he insisted on ordering takeout and eating it right by each other each night (what would be another nice gesture had he understood that he could eat at his own desk and not at yours), and he insisted on accompanying you home every night (you flat out refused this each time he begged). In the month-or-so duration of his time working with you, he repeatedly pushed boundaries that you thought were obvious and justified as you two were coworkers and nothing more. You supposed he was sort of sweet, but you were not interested in any office crushes.

You took a moment’s break and sighed as you stretched your curved back. You let out the faintest hint of a whimper when your spine popped softly. You had your eyes closed, but you knew that he perked up at the sound.

“Seonbae! Your back!” You kept your eyes closed, imagining the feeling of a cool breeze stronger than the fan on your desk.

“It’s fine, just a bit sore.” You nearly jumped when you opened your eyes to see him already halfway to your desk. You let out a quiet sigh, accepting that you wouldn’t get any work done until he went back to his own desk. He brought up a chair for himself and naturally, you scooted your own chair farther away from his. “It’s only seven thirty. We don’t have that much left - if we continue as we are, we can hit a reasonable stopping point for the weekend.”

He huffed softly, nearly pouting at you. “When was the last time you ate? I think it’s far past time we get something to eat.” You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes - he totally ignored what you said! The look on his face was too concerned for someone you were practically strangers with.

“Seriously, we should be done by nine. I’ll be fine, just continue working as you’ve been and at the very least, be sure that the weekly summary is on the boss' desk before you leave.” You turned back to your work as best as you could with him taking up space in your area. You begged your posture not to stiffen angrily as you realized that he was not leaving.

“...You seemed to like those noodles I ordered on Tuesday. I-I can order them again!” Without turning, you can sense that he’s leaning forward with his hands on his knees like a puppy. You cracked a faint smile at having just finished one of your remaining tasks for the workday.

“Hm...that’s alright. Don’t worry about it, I’m not hungry. You know...I really could get all this finished up by myself tonight and you can get out of here a little earlier.” He let out a tiny gasp. The sound helped snap your wispy memory - Jungkook was his name!

“No, no, I couldn’t. It’s not safe to leave separately! I-I’ll get back to work, but you have to eat too. The order should be coming within the hour.” He began to sluggishly wander back to his desk, but froze as if he was doused in icy water when you abruptly called his name.

“I told you already this week that you don’t have to order food to the office. I won’t accept any more delivery from you.” You kept your head down, trying to zoom through your team’s documents as fast as humanly possible. Jungkook looked crestfallen as a little boy.

“Seonbae...you really should be eating.” His tone of voice had your eyes snapping up to where he stood hunched in the middle of the office. Your breath caught in your throat for a split second as it almost sounded like he was crying at the idea of you not having regular meals. You willed yourself to not appear disgusted with his overbearing concern.

“It’s fine.”

You immediately turned back to your work and Jungkook finally sat back down at his desk, partly twiddling his thumbs, partly checking the delivery status of the meal he ordered for you, and partly doing his work as he was expected to do. The office was still trapping a ridiculous amount of heat despite the sun being completely down now - you even dared think that your boss was purposely turning the heat up in the middle of the summer after hours!

Thankfully, you were able to work in silence until Jungkook jumped up again with a small exclamation, mumbling something about the food being here. Completely choosing to not respond, you continued working before Jungkook was back at your side once again.

“Seonbae, let’s eat!” You swallowed your sigh and moved your chair away from his. He had already laid out several takeout boxes on your coworker’s and your own desks, and he was currently ridding a wooden pair of chopsticks from splinters. You were determined to get out of there, so you focused on your task at hand until a mouthful of noodles approached your lips.

“Jungkook! No!” You scolded the young boy for attempting to feed you for the fifth time that week. You glared at him while he shamefully slurped the noodles into his own mouth. He mumbled a sullen apology and handed you a pair of your own chopsticks.

You gave in to the food and ate in silence as your head swam with the remaining tasks for the week. Hoseok had just demanded so much of you, both as a normal worker and as the senior member of your team. He had even warned you about being nice to Jungkook and helping him feel welcomed, so you didn’t dare make any complaints about his incessant flirting. He was a temp and would be gone in a matter of months, surely. Surely you could endure a bit of flirting.

“This is nice,” he says wistfully, black bean sauce on the corner of his lip. You wordlessly hand him a tissue. You were steadily becoming sure that you actually could not endure any more flirting.

You get through the next few hours somewhat peacefully. The most spine-tingling interaction was Jungkook gushing over your apathetic thanks for the dinner, but the rest of the night was calm. Unsurprisingly, you were finished with all of your tasks fifteen minutes before Jungkook had begun his last one. His eyes became saucers when you suggested leaving first and having Jungkook lock up the office for the night.

Of course, he could not complete the simplest of tasks you asked of him.

“I just don’t think I’m prepared for a responsibility like that! Seonbae, can’t you please just wait ten minutes while I finish up this last task! It’s dangerous outside!” For the first time, Jungkook spoke to you with his eyes laser-focused on his work. His hands moved faster than his brain so he could finish his work as quickly as possible. His whining was desperate, but you continued to put on your coat and gather your belongings.

“Jungkook, you really will be fine. You can be trusted locking the door, right? Just return the keys back to me on Monday. I’m leaving now,” you called out with your back to him as you swiftly dropped the office keys on his desk and sped-walked out the office. Finally! That hellish week of Jungkook desperately trying to get your attention was complete. The following workweek was projected to be filled with a lot less work from you and you hoped it would stay that way. Your feet shuffled with the desire to skip to your car once the elevator to the parking garage opened. You felt a twinge of guilt at leaving Jungkook alone in the office, but you completely saw through his weird gestures and efforts to win you over. How lucky you were to be so stagnant in your ways.

The elevator opened with its soft ping and you inhaled the night air deeply. Halfway across the garage to your car, the harsh clang of your keys hitting the asphalt echoed across the space. When you bent down to pick them up, you stayed close to the ground for a quick moment, mind racing as to what you would do next.

When your keys hit the floor and you stopped walking to pick them up, the sound of footsteps in the garage did not. It was obvious - someone was in there with you.

You were certain it couldn’t be Jungkook because he obnoxiously made his presence known to you at every chance he could. There was no way it was any of your coworkers, and any night staff for the building would be well into their jobs at this time of night. As you slowly picked yourself up and prepared to break into a sprint to your car, the unknown presence was just a hair faster than you and had already begun bounding loudly towards your still figure. You managed to get in just a few feet before your waist was grabbed and a hand went over your face.

You made a startled noise for a split second, and then instinctively spent the rest of your energy prying this creep off of you. Please, please, please, you thought. The car is right there.

You tried biting the leather-covered hand that took over half of your face, you tried using your elbows and hips, you tried stomping your heels, but it was as if no action could free you. You began to really panic when the screaming began - you couldn’t remember another time you felt so fearful that you released such desperate screams like that.

You kept fighting even as you felt yourself being dragged farther from your car and even as you began to lose hope. You heard a chirp of a car trunk being opened and you felt your dinner begin to churn. You briefly considered reasoning with your captor and investigating how to talk yourself out of your own kidnapping when you were harshly shoved to the concrete. You scrambled to get up and away before you realized your captor was being straddled and beat to a pulp by a raging Jungkook. You become even closer to losing your dinner as Jungkook brings his fists up past his head and repeatedly bashes the head of your captor, all while screaming at the top of his lungs unintelligibly. Jungkook is going to kill this man. You let out a heartbroken sob and Jungkook’s raised fist suddenly paused. His head snapped over to you, still on the ground and covered in scrapes. For the first time, Jungkook says your first name and makes a face of complete devastation in response to your own crying before he’s suddenly punched in the jaw so hard he tumbles to the side and your captor swiftly kicks his ribs before running off to the emergency exit into the night. You are sobbing at this point and Jungkook is holding himself up with his bloody hands and breathing shallowly. For some reason, you instinctively crawled over to him and held him up by his shoulders.

Your hyperventilating inhibited you from speaking and this quickly shocked Jungkook back into looking after you. He gently raises a hand to the back of your head and pulls you close to him. His other hand brings your lower half closer to where you were nearly on his lap - he begins rubbing your back like you would a baby. In fact, you faintly hear him murmuring something like “Shh, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here, baby. Just be quiet, shh.” You paid no mind to the fact that it was Jungkook holding you. You let out the most heart wrenching sob yet and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him closely. His ribs are screaming at him, urging him to push you off his freshly broken bones but he clenches his teeth and squeezes you. The pain of hearing you cry is a thousand times more grating than the pain in his torso.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. Hmm, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m here, don’t cry.” Your hyperventilating cools down after some time of Jungkook whispering in your ear. It’s...nice.

He lets out what seems like a sigh of relief. “Okay, baby? Are you feeling better?” He holds you by your shoulders and you stare at him lifelessly. His eyebrows are knitted together in that way that they do, and the mole on his lower lip is so noticeable when he’s on the verge of tears. You take in the worry in his face and your own lip trembles again as you look down and try to suppress a strong blubber. Jungkook grabs your chin with a coo and you are crumbling even more. “No, no, baby, don’t cry! He’s gone, okay? I got rid of him,” he chuckles nervously. You stare down at his knuckles, split from beating the man who tried to hurt you. Guilt blooms in your chest.

“Are you okay?” you whimper. Jungkook is taken aback and his heart beats faster, if that were possible. He stutters something, then nods his head furiously.

“Don’t even ask about me! It’s all about you.” He is still holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger and at this point, it feels like all the blood in your body is in your head. Jungkook laughs nervously again, and runs his thumb over your chin in admiration. “Tell me what you need,” he whispers. You let out a huff, completely defeated. Despite your valiant effort to stop it, you had suddenly fallen victim to an office crush and you had fallen hard.

You opted to stay silent and instead grab Jungkook’s hand from your face and intertwine your fingers.

Jungkook nearly pops a vessel trying to not jump over the moon in elation. He opts to bring your hand up to his lips and kiss it.

*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

By the time you and Jungkook had finished speaking with the police and sorting out the logistics of moving forward legally, it was early Saturday morning and you were more than exhausted. Jungkook was not required to stay at the police station for longer than you, but he did so anyway. He insisted that his ribs felt fine and he didn’t want any medical attention. Like he said, this was all about you.

After thanking the officers profusely and bowing deeply to them, you began the grueling walk to Jungkook’s car. He gently urged you into his car back at the garage seeing as you were in no state to be driving. You faintly remember his hands running up and down your back, patting dangerously close to your ass as he helped you into the passenger’s seat with a hushed “there’s my girl.”

He kept a gentle, warm hand to the back of your neck. “A-Are you sure you’d like to go straight home?” he asked tentatively. “I want you to feel comfortable.” Ironically as he said this, he moved both of his hands to rub along your spine. Even now several hours after the incident, you still found yourself looking up at Jungkook with heart eyes. You hadn’t known how wonderful it felt to simply let yourself be doted over (it also very well could be the fresh trauma fiddling with your emotions).

You look up at him with a soft gaze. “Some company would be great.” He smiles and tilts his head as he looks down at you. Again, he leads you to his car, running a hand down your backside as he helps you get seated. He reaches to secure the seatbelt across your figure and you both find yourselves blushing.

Soon, as you are pulling into the parking garage of his apartment complex, you almost get whiplash from the intense realization that you were making a mistake. Not even twenty-four hours ago were you fuming over this kid’s weird and overbearing behavior, and now you were about to sleep in his bed - your coworker’s bed. Jungkook immediately notices your trepidation and places his hand over yours.

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” His smile is beaming towards you and you chuckle, wildly pulling your seatbelt off. Jungkook makes a small noise of surprise and rushes over out of the car around to your side to open your door for you. Fuck, you thought. This was probably some wet dream of his or something.

Jungkook walked you to his apartment with an arm around your shoulders, almost as if to protect you from the rest of the world. As his nervous hands fumbled to unlock his front door, you decided to allow yourself one more hour of this nonsense before you really snapped out of it and found your way home. For just one more hour, you would allow yourself to indulge in this inappropriate relationship with horribly inappropriate timing.

You were taking your shoes off when Jungkook softly pulled you to the couch instead. “Here, sweetie,” he cooed as he sat you down and got on his knees in front of you. You couldn’t yet tell if you loved this or hated it.

“Let me,” he says before daintily taking off your shoes himself and bringing your ankles up to his lap as he crawled up to sit on the couch. He rubbed your calf gently with his warm hand. “Did anywhere get hurt when that man touched you?” He leaned in closer to you.

You have to look away. You twiddle your thumbs and Jungkook watches your hands with fondness. “Mm, everywhere is kinda sore. My elbows and knees are all scraped up too.” Jungkook looks at you and nods seriously, cooing in understanding.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s my fault that my princess got scraped up like that. Aw,” he mumbles, grabbing your hand and observing it thoroughly.

You decide an hour is too long to indulge in this (whatever this is) and jerk your hand back from him. His mouth drops open in offense as he whines a small, “baby…” You shake your head.

“Jungkook, what the hell are you talking about? A-and this...this is inappropriate. I’m your senior, we can’t just...especially after what happened, it just...feels wrong. In more than one way.” As you speak, Jungkook’s lip trembles more and more before he lets out a wail. Your eyes widen at how poorly he processes this completely obvious fact. He couldn’t...actually be using this traumatic event as fodder for courting you, right? You were sure that you felt that way, but there was just something about the way Jungkook treated you before and the manner in which he saved you...something was off. Jungkook was just the temp who flirted with you and would be gone in a few months, right? Perhaps there truly was something off about him, in a deeper way than his persistence.

Perhaps Jungkook was much more than you ever expected.

The way he cries completely grates against your ears, so you make a frenzied effort to calm him. “Jungkook, please stop crying. We need to talk about this. Shit, it’s okay, just please stop.” You pat his back, fearing the way he cries so deeply that his chest heaves.

“That’s not fair, baby, it’s not fair! Why can’t you even see now that we’re obviously meant to be? I saved you, we’re perfect for each other!” You let out a disgusted gasp at his words and attempt to push yourself away from him.

For the past few hours, you dismissed Jungkook’s insane animalistic reaction in the parking garage as instinctual and justified - it saved you from being kidnapped. You had a gut feeling that reaction told you exactly what you needed to know about Jungkook’s character, but you desperately wanted to give the man who saved you the benefit of the doubt. Now, his psychotic crying set it in stone - Jungkook was a fucking lunatic.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry, Jungkook. I have to go,” you mumbled, scrambling for your shoes and stumbling a little with fatigue. Jungkook’s sobbing begins to quicken maniacally and you are rushing towards his front door. It is when you pull at the doorknob to find that it’s not moving that you realize that Jungkook had actually begun laughing.

You jiggle the doorknob a few times before Jungkook goes silent and growls lowly, “Sweet pea, get back here please.” You weren’t sure how much more fear your body could take in this short span of time. You continue trying to figure out the doorknob, panic rising in you, as Jungkook continues to call to you from the couch. “Honey, I said please come back here. Sit with me, baby.” He is starting to speak through clenched teeth. At this time, you are now trying to yell over him, asking desperately how to get on the other side of his door.

He yells your name. “I said get back here right fucking now or I’ll have to do something real fucked up.” Your hands fall to your sides and you hold your breath. Jungkook waits a moment before saying softly, “Baby, I’m asking you to come over here. Do I need to get up and come get you?” You pivot and walk quickly back to him, stopping a bit more than an arm’s length from him. He snickers and opens his arms. “Come here, baby. Sit with me.”

You shake your head, crying, “Jungkook, I would like to go home. I-I-I can’t figure out your lock,” you sob. “I want to go home, please.” You are now filled with a deeper fear than what you felt in the parking garage. You just knew that Jungkook was much more dangerous than whoever it could have been trying to take you away.

“Baby. Here.” He pats his thigh and you whimper, coming over to sit on his lap. He lets out a deep sigh when you finally land and he wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your chest. “Oh, sweetie.” One hand rubs your back and you are sure you’re going to pass out soon. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to let you out of my sight again, hm?” He rubs his head against you, planting a wet kiss on your sweater-covered sternum.

“I-I don’t understand. I have to go home eventually.” You hopelessly tried to find some justification for this, some explanation that the person who saved you from being kidnapped wasn’t a kidnapper themselves. Jungkook chuckles and you feel the vibration through your middle.

“You are home,” he says sweetly, reaching up quickly to peck your cheek. You stifled another gasp and shook your head. “Honey, you’re home now. Everything is going just the way it should be, okay? You’re safe here.”

You let yourself fall forward into Jungkook’s chest. The room had begun to spin.

“That makes no sense,” you mumbled. “This is not the way things should be. Are you saying I was meant to be attacked after work?” You chuckled nervously. As exhaustion and fear nearly spent you completely, you found yourself losing any will to fight back. If you could not beat that man in the garage, how could you beat the man who protected you from him? Jungkook’s body was big and hard with muscle. He was easily more athletic than you, and would likely stop at nothing to stay near you. He scoffed.

“I would never want to hurt you.” He presses kisses to your spinning head. “My baby...it was just a part of bringing you home to me. Don’t take it the wrong way.” Your eyes are open wide, staring at the knick knacks he decorated his entire living room with. You stare at one, a cute kitty cat photo frame - ah, quite obviously holding a photo of you. In fact, all of the artifacts littering his home had some connection to you. A cropped group photo from a work party displays your whole figure in the photo frame by the door. There was a white square hung up in a glass frame with a corner smeared by your favorite lipstick color - you didn’t want to believe it was your garbage. It couldn’t be. He keeps kissing your head.

“No sense,” you whispered brokenly. He shushes you, running his hands along your back once again.

“I know, I know baby. That’s just how you feel right now...don’t worry. I’ll help you understand it was for your own good. Ah, it was a shame I had to hurt Namjoon-hyung like that though...one day when you’re ready to meet him again, you’ll find out he’s actually the coolest brother I have.”

“...brother?”

Jungkook hums. He has begun to absentmindedly braid your hair, taking his time to run his hands through the strands and give each section a sniff. You pretend that you can’t hear his heart rate picking up when he smells your shampoo.

“Hoseokie-hyung was a big help, too. What, with the job and all. I can’t thank those two enough for everything they’ve done for me. Ah, they’ll make the best groomsmen at our wedding, don’t you think, sweetie?”

You opt to not respond. He sighs lightly, relieved.

“Of course, after that, it’s choosing which of the two becomes the first godfather. Ah, I might cry if I think that far ahead,” he chuckles. “I’m so glad you’re home now, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting forever.”

#yandere jungkook #yandere jeongguk #yandere!jungkook #yandere!jeongguk #yandere bts #yandere!bts

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firelxdykatara · 4 years

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I've read your thoughts on the noncon kiss between K/ataang (and I agree 100%), so I was wondering what your thoughts were on when Damon kept on trying to kiss Elena even after she rejected him?? (Also, I'm genuinely asking! I actually ship Delena, but this has just always bothered me.)

I suppose the simplest answer to this question is ‘I hold vampires with dodgy morals who began the show as villains to a different standard than I hold the heroic protagonist of a kid’s show’--because the fact of the matter is, Damon began the show as a villain. (And, not that it makes much of a difference, but I genuinely do not remember Damon trying to kiss Elena again after finding out that she was wearing vervain in the third episode--with the exception of the first episode of season 2, which was absolutely a horrible moment and I’ve never denied that. So where did he ‘[keep] on trying’? Genuine question, bc it’s been a while since I saw the early seasons of the show so I could be forgetting something.) Damon was unequivocally a villain and a monster in the beginning of the show, and his road to become a good man was long and not at all linear, and he was never going to be the Hero, because that’s just not who he is. (Which is ok, because not all good people have to be.)

The way the EIP kiss is presented, with absolutely nothing bridging the gap between that and Katara making out with Aang in the finale, it makes it seem like she figured out her feelings for him because he crossed her boundaries, rather than coming to that conclusion because she actually had romantic feelings for him and had worked through them on her own time. Aang makes his feelings her problem, without even asking her how she actually feels about him, and reveals that he assumed they would be in a relationship by now (because of the last time he kissed her without her consent, something that he phrases as mutual when it very much was not). This is especially an issue because it’s a children’s show, and this could very well be some of the target demographic’s first concept of consent in a romantic relationship--so the fact that there wasn’t even an attempt to point out that what Aang did was wrong and why, nevermind allow Katara to actually work through her feelings on screen, is a big problem, and when this gets brushed under the rug by Aang/Kataang fans it seriously bothers me.

By contrast, Elena was able to work through her feelings for Damon on her own time. He killed her brother at the beginning of season 2, unquestionably one of his worst actions in the entire show, and he had an arc where he began to realize that he actually cared about what he’d done--he actually cared about her, and was in love with her--and did everything he could to make it up to her. Crucially, though, he never actually made his feelings her problem, once he came to terms with them. He told her that he was in love with her, but then he compelled her to forget it so that she wouldn’t be burdened with that knowledge--and he backed the hell off. He didn’t even ask for her to forgive him until he was literally dying. And he accepted when she said that she still needed time--time he didn’t have--and didn’t actually push the issue until he was so delirious from the werewolf venom and in the middle of vivid hallucinations that he couldn’t control himself.

Elena kissed Damon at the end of season 2, thinking he was going to die--this was 100% initiated by her and unprompted by him, and it was her saying both ‘I forgive you’ and ‘goodbye’, because she thought he was about to die. (And he would have if Katherine hadn’t shown up with Klaus’ blood.) The next time they kissed, you could actually compare it to the Kataang surprise kisses--because when Damon kissed Elena in 3x10 it was unprompted (though she held the kiss and did not react negatively to it, unlike Katara who looked upset at the pre-invasion kiss and got angry at the EIP one)--but the important difference here is that Elena herself phrases it as a mutual kiss later on when she is talking to Stefan and wants to be open with him.

And the real crux of the matter here is, Elena’s feelings are always front and center in her relationship with Damon. She initiates most of their pre-relationship kisses--2x22, 3x19 (where she nearly fucking jumped his bones lmfao), 4x7--and the one where she didn’t is a kiss a kiss she describes as mutual, and as something she needs to confess to her ex-boyfriend to keep all her cards on the table. (Actually, I just went back to refresh my memory, and she doesn’t just say ‘we kissed’, like Damon said to Bonnie the next day. She says ‘There’s something I have to tell you. And it’s not because I feel guilty that it happened, it’s because I feel guilty that you don’t know. I kissed Damon.’ And then Stefan goes on to punch Damon because of it, because that doesn’t have any gross implications at all, but I’m not gonna go into that bc this isn’t an ‘I hate Stefan Salvatore’ rant. Yet.)

Elena chooses who she wants to say goodbye to in the season 3 finale. Elena chooses who she wants to be with in the beginning of season 4 (because, whatever she felt for Damon [and she owns those feelings and admits to them multiple times without prompting], she never had closure with Stefan, and she needed that before she was able to truly move on), and she chooses who she wants to spend the rest of her existence with after that.

Elena’s choice is crucial in her relationship with Damon, in a way that Katara’s never is with Aang. And I’m not trying to pretend that there aren’t a lot of elements to Damon and Elena’s relationship that aren’t questionable (he’s a 172-year-old vampire with a lot of murders in his past and a history of being a monster pre-redemption, and she’s an 18-year-old girl when they start dating), but again the difference there is that I have different standards for a) enemies-to-lovers relationships vs friends-to-lovers where they are on the same side from the start, and b) vampires vs Kid Heroes, so I’m going to have different expectations going in, and am probably going to react with more distaste to actions in one that might be comparatively tame, but still read very differently in different contexts.

It’s 100% understandable to have a line in the sand re: sexual violence/rape, but there are still vast differences in what is considered ‘par for the course’ in a show like TVD vs one like ATLA. In TVD, compelling humans is normal, and almost every vampire has had sex with humans under compulsion, so when this is brought out as some mark against Damon and only Damon, it makes me wonder why some fans hold him to a completely different standard than literally every other vampire on the show (possible exceptions being the ones who get turned during the show--although Caroline compelled Matt to forget she was a vampire and then continued her relationship with him sooooooo). Not liking TVD because it has issues with sexual violence/how consent is addressed when half the cast can take away the other half’s free will? Very valid. Not liking Damon, specifically, for these reasons when stanning characters like Stefan, Katherine, or.... p much any other vampire on the show???? Not so valid.

Annnnd I’ll get off my soapbox now lmfao. I still have A Lot To Say apparently, and some day I’m gonna get into why the TVD fandom has such a weird relationship w the show’s issues with consent (like why Stefan and Katherine stans will call Damon a rapist while ignoring that their faves are also rapists by the very same metric), but I think that’s a bit beyond the scope of this ask.

#tvd #atla #delena #kataang salt #salt for ts #i think at the end of the day it boils down to agency #elena had it in her relationship with damon #katara did not in her relationship with aang #asked #Anonymous

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chrysalispen · 4 years

Text

(these are the things) i can do without;

Holy shit y’all this is so NSFW lmfao

uhhhh. nero/wol, light bondage, breathplay, warning because this is consensual but not safe or sane. don’t try this at home, kids.

NSFW below the cut, as always. AO3 link is here.

======

As per usual, Nero Scaeva had only himself to blame for his current predicament (pleasant though it was).

Name your price and I will pay it, he had said, and he really ought to stop making such impulsively magnanimous gestures in order to get himself out of hot water every time he crossed the eikon-slayer's temper. Particularly on those occasions when it stood a fair chance of ending poorly for him-- which, he owned, was somewhat often.

In his defense, he had expected that fulfilling a 'favor of her choosing' would have something to do with one of her adventurous impulses. He simply hadn't considered the possibility that this might be the sort of adventure on the table. Table- or bed, as it happened. In this case the four-poster in her bedroom to which he had been bound.

Aurelia sat on her mattress alongside his prone form with her feet tucked primly beneath her knees, clad in only a short chemise and a pair of smallclothes as she studied her knotwork (and really, whomever had taught the most objectively terrifying woman on the godsdamned star entire how to tie strips of vanya silk as if they were nautical rigging on a Limsan frigate could get buggered as far as Nero was concerned), looking for any weakness in her technique.

"Really, sweetling, all this over one broken alembic, and one barely worth the name, at that. Was your plan simply to frustrate me into submission?"

Nero was a born contrarian. He had prided himself upon that fact since boyhood, had pontificated upon it during his various clashes with one Cid Garlond, and very often had relied upon it to win arguments with Livia sas Junius on more than one occasion in his less-than-illustrious past. He was, in short, what an army recruiter might politely term ‘spite-motivated.’ Or perhaps he simply had the perverse urge to find out to what extremes she might be driven should he ever manage to push all of Aurelia’s buttons.

Although that particular remark, he allowed, might have perhaps been a step too far. She leveled upon him a stare that could have frozen an industrial forge.

"All things considered, I really should do just that," she retorted. "I can if you like."

"By all means, please continue."

The Warrior of Light was not a woman given to displays of ill temper. That said, perhaps she might not glower in the precise same way that Garlond did, but hells bedamned if the last time Nero had seen this exact look on her face hadn't been right before she proceeded to wreck every toy in his Castrum Meridianum laboratory and wipe the floor with him for good measure.

His grin was a challenge, a silent gauntlet tossed at her feet. It did not go unnoticed.

"Your willingness to cooperate does you great credit," she said with false sweetness. "I assume you won't mind if I take my time, then, as I'm certain you shall find it no great task to remain still-- and silent."

The Warrior of Light answered his insolent smirk with a smile of her own and leaned forward with one slender hand braced upon his chest.

Overeager fool that he was, he dropped his guard. His jaw went slack, anticipating the plush softness of lips pressed against his and the velvet heat of a tongue to slide against his teeth.

Instead, he received a mouthful of silk for his trouble.

He tried to curse in surprise, but all that left his mouth was a muffled growl of annoyance before the gag was pulled taut -- not enough to hurt or to chafe, but it ensured that the use of his words would be too much effort for him to bother. Still, that was harmless enough, and Nero supposed he should have expected it when she had told him exactly what sort of favor she intended to have him grant. A light slap, a bite or ten, perhaps (though he sincerely doubted it, knowing her) a bit of dirty talk.

Charming if rather pedestrian, in his personal estimation, as far as such things went-- but one had to start somewhere.

She did none of those things. She touched him with light, tickling trails of her fingers from collarbone to navel, showering a line of tiny kisses along his hairline and then his brow and cheekbone, traversing a warm, sweet path downward. Amused at the notion that such a delicate touch would have any real effect on him, Nero allowed himself to relax and enjoy her soft attentions, lulled into lazing contentment right up until the moment her teeth nipped at the soft skin just beneath his jaw.

He hissed his discomfort around the gag, at the tiny, sharp pinprick of pain amidst the warmth, and then there was another, and then another as she made her slow and unhurried way along his neck, one side, then the other. At the fleshy juncture that met the plane of his shoulder, she latched onto him in earnest, suckling gently through the sharp sting of her teeth, tongue flickering over the bruise she left behind as if to soothe.

Nero did not need a looking-glass to know what he would see: violet-red marks blooming like flowers upon the canvas of his flesh from ears to the base of his throat, marks that would be clearly visible even above the high neckline of his work doublet.

Violence thoroughly leashed beneath that soft and ladylike exterior, he thought, how very strangely apropos for a killer of gods.

The thought set his nerves alight. Heat and tension flickered through his stomach, tightening like the bonds that held him trapped, and beneath it he felt the twitching of his cock, nudging against the barrier of his smalls with slowly escalating insistence. He exhaled through the corners of his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut for a handful of moments.

What she had traversed with fingertips she now traced more intimately, dragging the damp softness of her mouth over every sensitive spot she knew he had. Tiny bites across his collarbone, barely openmouthed kisses along his sternum that seemed to sear him with each touch of her lips, a saucy flicker of her tongue over a puckering aureole, and the maddening tickle of her hair trailing close behind, warm and golden as it tumbled over his chest.

His limbs trembled as though he were - at thirty-four winters! - the callow schoolboy he had once been, breaths coming in quick and shallow sips through his nose by the time she pulled herself upright.

Her fingertips traced the border of flesh and cloth just below his waist, ruffling the wiry curls that peeked slyly from the waistband of his smallclothes, her nails ghosting in light and careful strokes over the firm ridge of his erection through his smalls. Nero’s hips surged upwards, trying to find something, anything to grind against-- only to meet resistance in the flat of her palm pressed against his stomach. Gods damn it-

“If you can be a good boy and stay still for me,” she said, “then I’ll let you talk again.”

A stab of alarm curled through his gut when she moved back towards the bedside and turned away from him -- surely she would not be so brutal as to make good on her threat to stir him and leave him to suffer -- and then he felt the shimmy of the mattress, saw her hands at her hips as they slid down her flanks. She was not leaving but merely removing her smallclothes.

He sucked in a soft breath through his nose. The heat below his waist had increased steadily with her teasing, and when her fingers brushed against his trapped cock in the process of reaching for his waistband he uttered stifled curses in Ilsabardian into his mouthful of silk, blunted nails digging into his palms enough to hurt.

Forcing himself to still his hips while she worked the laces loose, while she tugged his smalls down his hips and freed his length from their confines, aching and heavy: that was a uniquely exquisite agony.

She extended one of those lovely, powerful legs to straddle his waist so that she knelt astride him like a riding chocobo. Embarrassing as it was he couldn’t stifle the helpless groan he made at the sight of damp honey-gold curls hovering mere ilms above him, radiating palpable warmth.

“Don’t move,” she whispered, and braced one hand upon the neatly carved edge of her headboard.

The other wrapped about his flushed and throbbing cock, adjusting the angle with achingly slow precision until the head nudged at her entrance. His eyes were open enough to see the intense focus on her face as she began to lower herself onto him, and in that same instant he was all but lost in the sensation of soft, wet heat enveloping his crown, a desperately desired friction that felt even more of a shock to the senses with his control wrested from him.

He observed her silent expression of bliss in open fascination: the slow backward tilt of her head, the delicate arch of her neck, her soft and breathy sigh, nails dragging light furrows into his flanks as she took him into herself. Sliding smoothly into liquid heat until he was swaddled in it, from base to tip.

The sensation was almost enough to break his resolve. Almost---but not quite.

Nero grunted against the gag that bound his tongue flat against the floor of his teeth, and his forearms twitched, the tug of his wrists insistent against the restraints of silk that bound them to the posts. But he remained still, bent his entire being on it, even as he wanted more than anything to move, to thrust, the very thing she had said she would not yet allow.

At last she had settled carefully atop him, as soft and warm without as within, the plush curve of her rear cushioning her weight against his hips. She reached out to hook one index finger in the fabric and tug it free from his mouth, and he wasted no time in opening it.

"I am fairly certain," he began, his voice laden with sarcasm, “that this novel method of yours constitutes torture beneath imperial jurisdiction.”

"Don't be so dramatic."

He released a resigned sigh- a short, soft huff. "Sweetling," he said, plaintively. "You are cruel to me. Cruel."

"And you are altogether too accustomed to getting what you want when you want it." She kissed each corner of his mouth. "You willingly surrendered yourself to my tender mercies and I intend to enjoy every second of it."

"Something tells me 'tender' might be debatable."

"And you are quite clearly enjoying this."

"Perish the thought,” he smirked, though that too was quickly becoming an effort. Her hand left the headboard to stroke the planes of his torso, tracing lines of old scars and muscle, following the path of golden filament curls downwards to their joining at the base of his belly.

"Perish nothing. I'll wager you dreamt about this plenty of times before we even met." Aurelia nipped at one of the bruise marks she’d left on him, and the resulting moan buzzed against her lips as they trailed down the column of his throat. "Nero tol Scaeva, the right hand of the Black Wolf, bound to the eikon-slayer's bedposts whilst she rides him-"

"Left."

She clenched around him, a rippling squeeze as thrilling as it was diabolically deliberate. “Hmm?”

"Left," his back arched like a shortbow strung too taut, knees flexing and heels digging into the mattress, "his left-hand man, darling, I'm left-handed-"

"Pedantic and filthy? Truly, I have won Garlemald's greatest prize." Her laugh was a whisper against his collarbone, laden with tolerant amusement. "Though I must allow that you are quite charming when you’re this desperate."

"And I will neither confirm nor deny-" She rocked atop him with a thrust and his breath stuttered to a halt before he hissed out an oath, "-confirm nor deny the contents of my fantasies, no matter what you do to wring them out of me, you thrice-damned temptress."

"Goodness, you are so complimentary tonight. Perhaps we ought do this more often- or at all."

"Let me move.”

“No.”

“So help me, I will chew through these," he cut himself off with a howl of growing exasperation when her teeth sank into a nipple, “buggered bits of godsdamned frippery if I must.”

"Will you? But say the word and I'll relent." She sat upright. The curve of her grin was teasing and triumphant. "Perhaps."

"You think to have me beg you for release?"

She did not answer but instead set herself to work unlacing the neckline of the short undergarment she still wore. Though Nero was well aware it was a show for his benefit, he was unable to look away as she coaxed the knots to unbind and eased the leather strips through each opening.

Once she had judged the laces loose enough, she grasped the hem with both hands and pulled her last article of clothing over her head in a single fluid motion. Muscles shifting in deceptively powerful thighs, the long waves of her hair curling in graceful honeyed patterns over smooth skin flushed and dewy with sweat, she leaned forward to brace her hands along either side of his torso. Gravity tilted the soft swell of her breasts forward in kind to slide over his chest: just enough of a taste of her to torment.

"Once I've freed myself-"

The threat died on his lips when her fingers tangled in the thick curls at his nape. He growled in frustration. "You won't."

"Don't tell me what I won't do." The grip on his hair tightened as if she were scruffing a kitten. "Aurelia, I will break this bloody bed," he hissed. "Do not tempt me."

“I suppose that is one way to get what you want." He'd hoped he might provoke her temper, give him an upper hand. Instead, Aurelia smiled at him, soft and winsome, her grip on his hair relaxing and her fingers descending to trace the shell of his ear. He stared at her, unable to maintain even playful belligerence in the face of this new distraction, feeling suddenly and unaccountably flustered. "You can also have what you want if you just ask me nicely."

“You mean if I debase myself enough to beg you for the privilege.”

"If you ask nicely," she stressed. "And say it like you mean it."

Nero was fairly certain he was in trouble. The sting of those bites and the sensation of his hair pulling against his scalp left him with far less care for his pride than he might otherwise have owned, and the near-glacial pace of her hips was quickly eroding what remained of his willpower. But he did nothing in half-measures and he was not going to give in without at least a token resistance. It simply wasn't in his nature.

"Dearest hero," he purred. He dipped his chin so that his lips brushed against hers and in the softest and most conciliatory voice he could muster, he whispered: "Make me."

The grin he gave her was the widest, most shameless, most infuriating, most insufferable he could possibly muster, and Aurelia---

Her answering smile was as bright and hard as an uncut diamond.

Seven hells. He was definitely in trouble.

Nero was bracing himself for some sort of retaliation - perhaps she would grasp another handful of his hair and pull, or bite, or deliver a blow to his flank - so when she instead rested her cheek upon his shoulder, lips gently nuzzling at his neck and hands stroking his sides in a light and careful caress, he was left at something of a loss.

"Are you certain?" she murmured. “You would rather fight me?”

That low and husky whisper jolted its way straight down his spine.

Refusing to answer, he caught his lower lip between his teeth. Her lips drifted about his earlobe, and with a torturously slow roll of her hips, she drew it into her mouth and tugged with the barest scrape of her teeth before releasing him. A groan welled deep within his gut, made almost nasal by its escape from the depths of his throat. Her nails scraped over his stomach, just enough to raise gooseflesh as they drifted down to his hipbones, then inward until her fingertips stopped at the space where they joined.

There was nowhere left for them to wander, and he grit his teeth when she circled the base of his cock with index finger and thumb in slow strokes.

"Well, 'tis a terrible shame you can't bring yourself to be aught besides stubborn." She was touching herself now; her fingers trailed over the folds that had spread open to accommodate him and kept moving until the heel of her palm rested perhaps an ilm below her navel. Her index and middle fingers curled in, very gently- once again, just enough to tantalize him, to torment. "I could force you to lie there and watch me pleasure myself- if that is really what you'd prefer."

"Aurelia," he began, wetting his dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

She said nothing, only smiled. Sweat rolled down his temples from the crushing effort he exerted to not only remain still beneath her ministrations but to appear unaffected by them. It was a fight he knew full well he was losing; when she leaned toward him again it was like watching a hunter approaching to see what fantastic creature she had caught in her snare.

Her other hand trailed a fair expanse of collarbone and shoulder, bruise-mottled and flushed, paused at the soft hollow of his throat, then carefully wrapped about his neck. She applied no pressure, but her thumb tracked in idle lines over the rhythmic throb of his jugular.

She might as well have squeezed, in truth. The sound that emerged from his own mouth was something strangled and desperate, and on its heels before he could stop himself-

"Please-"

-came surrender.

Nero swallowed, the sound a very audible click. A large part of him was mortified at just how quickly he'd acquiesced to her teasing the moment she’d dared to grip him thus, but he was painfully hard and he was trying not to think about how much of it was directly related to that soft hand and the remembered warmth of it as she closed it around his throat.

Movement along his neck at last: her hand, sliding back into his hair. He felt something akin to disappointment before she gave the curls at his nape a cheeky little tug.

"You have permission to move," she whispered.

His soft sigh was the only warning she received before he flexed his legs just enough to brace his feet for traction and bucked.

The sharp upwards thrust tore a high-pitched cry from her lips. She released her hold on his hair when the motion unbalanced her, slamming the flat of her palm back against the headboard hard enough that they both winced at the cracking sound of its impact. He gave her exactly enough time to regain her balance before he repeated the movement, and she doubled over, tucking her head beneath his chin. A third repetition, a fourth, a fifth: slow and savage thrusts that left her writhing atop him.

Unable to resist the opportunity to tease even through the haze of his own lust, Nero grinned at her.

"Lost control of your steed, have you?"

Rebuttal took the form of a fierce kiss, one he accepted with a low and greedy moan into her mouth. When she relinquished him to take air, her mouth damp and slightly swollen, her dark violet-blue eyes shone with that hard, determined expression he secretly so loved to see.

"If a racing chocobo cannot unseat me, tribunus," she breathed, panting audibly, "I harbor serious doubts that you will fare better."

"I have put that particular chapter of my life behind me. That said, if you mean to have me put your riding skills through their paces," his smile took on a feral cat's curl, "I am told my testing methodologies trend towards the rigorous."

His motions eased as he taunted her, just enough to savor his riposte; it wasn't as though he were entirely in possession of his faculties, after all.

Aurelia took only a moment to consider her response before she lifted her hips perhaps an ilm or so; he clenched his teeth at the friction of it. Honey-blonde hair draped about his face like a curtain as she loomed over him, ragged breaths fanning against his brow with each shallow inhale and exhale. There was the slightest pressure of her lips just along the lower rim of his third eye: a tiny kiss that was sweet and almost maidenly, at stark odds with the deep rosy flush that had settled into her skin.

Her other hand abandoned its ministrations to trace the expanse of upper chest and collarbone--fingers damp with her slick, but almost unnoticeable with the heat and sweat that clung to them both-- until he felt light and careful pressure once more, the sensation of her palm stroking softly from ear to shoulder. It felt as though he had invited a predator in heat to brace its maw about his neck, either to claim him as her mate or to crush his trachea beneath her bite.

His breath stilled for that one moment, trembling and trapped, and the smile the eikon-slayer bestowed upon him was incandescent.

"Well," she whispered, "one can only hope."

Her thighs clenched to hold herself fast against him, knees digging firmly into his ribs as she met his thrusts with a roll of her hips-- moving with him so that she would not harm him, he realized (that quip about racing chocobos had been no idle jest, it seemed). The bedposts made an alarming cracking sound, but the bonds held fast despite the tension.

His hands clenched into fists so taut that his knuckles went white and his forearms strained; he wanted her to make good on that promise, wanted to feel her fingers closing around his throat-

His next words seemed to wrest themselves free of his lips of their own accord. He wasn't actually certain she'd heard his request at first until, without stilling the motion of her hips against his, she adjusted her stance.

Her hand grasped the curved outer edge of the headboard she'd carved for purchase until her weight rested against the forearm she had braced against the stained rosewood, slim shoulders rising and dropped with shallow breaths, flushed the same lovely rose as her cheeks as she peered down at him.

"Nero, I don't-" a particularly deep thrust wrenched a stifled whimper from her lips and her reflexive clench knocked the breath from his lungs in a glorious gut punch, an echo of that earlier thrill, "I don't want to hurt you-"

"You won't." The warmth of her touch, the weight of battle-calloused fingers and palm, threatened to slip away with her hesitation. He didn't want her to be gentle. Not right now. "I promise."

Doubt lingered in her eyes but she leaned towards him. Golden hair fell forward in a soft shower, the shining locks loose and curling from the heat between them, space somehow silent and filled all at once as she sighed--

--and relented. Her thumb rolled over his pulse, carefully applying pressure.

The engineer's breath escaped him in a harsh and painful gasp.

Fingers closing about the straps of cloth that bound them to her bedposts, he strained and writhed beneath her, reveling within the twin cages of her hand about his throat and her cunt about his length. His hips snapped forward and up in rapid strokes, renewing and increasing his pace, seeking end in whatever form it might take.

Starbursts of color prickled at the periphery of his vision, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He was acutely aware of his heartbeat, throbbing through the length of his body from his compressed throat to the engorged tip of his cock, the sound of it muffled and distant as though he were underwater. His prize was the most intense orgasm of his life; the wager against it, his mortality. It was both terrifying and exhilarating.

As the heat and pressure ratcheted upwards, self-inflicted strangulation coiling into the tension of approaching ecstasy, he felt increasingly certain that one of two things would happen: either he would lose consciousness or simply expire betwixt the eikon-slayer's thighs. Coming and dying at the same time.

Well, Scaeva, you could certainly choose worse ways to go, he thought.

A choked laugh sputtered past his lips but he had no time to give the matter either regret or further consideration. Liquid fire seemed to settle into the base of his spine and sear itself into his bones like a branding iron. His entire being was consumed by mindless sensation, a tempering with a single base purpose, and cogent thought failed against it.

Moments later her constriction eased just enough to relieve the growing ache in his chest. Climax and relief came so close on the heels of each other that time itself seemed to collapse inward; he could not tell where one ended and the other began. The scrape of air against the burning brand of his throat faltered, stuttered into a cracked and desperate moan at the same instant he felt the heat of his own release spilling into the grasp of slick heat and smooth muscle.

His vision faded to black at the edges for long moments and his pulse throbbed through his temples, and he kept moving, the motion of his hips slowing by increments into eventual stillness as euphoria began to fade, heat and sensitivity bordering upon overstimulation.

Nero could perceive the withdrawal of her palm from its place about his throat, the trail of her fingertips at their ingress, the impression of movement just above. Her knuckles brushed slick flesh and the wiry hairs at his base and on the edge of consciousness he felt her shudder, thighs rigid and shaking; she cried out wordlessly and her fingers stilled. He groaned as she spasmed around him.

For some few moments the pair were locked in exhausted stasis; the only sound that passed was inhale and exhale, hot and labored.

Her hands returned to the back of his neck and then his wrists, one at a time, tugging and plucking, and he realized she was loosening his bonds. His arms fell limp and half-numbed to the sheets as she gathered the silk and discarded it somewhere between the bed and the side table. He managed to summon enough strength to move a few ilms, then grimaced at the protesting ache in his shoulders and the overflow that had made it onto his hips and belly and into the sheets.

"Stay there," Aurelia panted, sounding as broken as he felt, "stay there, just let me-"

She braced her weight one last time against the headboard and eased herself up to roll her weight out of the low-slung cradle of his hips and onto the mattress, fingers clasped securely between her legs as she did so in a valiant (but ultimately futile) effort to contain. Nero happened to catch her eye right as she made the exact same face he did - a wince that was somewhere between discomfort and distaste - and laughed weakly.

Aurelia blinked at him in momentary confusion, then her expression eased into a rueful, rather embarrassed smile.

"...I can't bloody believe I did that."

"Well," he ran a hand through sweat-soaked curls, "I did ask you for it."

His smile, largely unrepentant, lingered as she exhaled with a deep heave of her chest and reached for the pitcher on the side table. "I was worried I might have hurt you. I could have hurt you."

"But you didn't." There was no response, only the sound of pouring water. He leveraged his weight onto his elbows to try and sit up and was shocked at how much effort that single act required. "However, point taken. Discussion later when we're both a bit less scrambled?"

"Agreed. Here, drink this."

He felt the warm whisper of her breath on his cheek and a brief press of her lips before the tin cup was pushed gently into his nearest hand. The water was cold and clean and tasted sweet. He swallowed slowly, letting it ease the rawness of his throat.

She poured water into the small bowl on the table and wrung out a hand-towel and Nero watched her face as she tended to herself before selecting a second cloth to do the same for him. Her expression was once again calm and pensive, though her flush remained, her hair softly disheveled. Ignoring the ache in his arm he reached up to tuck a damp forelock out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

"Do you think," she began, then caught herself, "Never mind."

"Hm? No, go on."

The wet cloth idled upon the mild rise of his hipbone at his encouragement. Her cheeks seemed to bloom almost crimson with self-consciousness, dark blue gaze listing towards the edge of her pillow before shyly flickering upwards to meet his own periwinkle blue in a half-lidded, hesitant little smile that should not have felt so appealing as it did, not so soon- and then she said:

"....I, ah. I think I would not... be entirely opposed to doing this again sometime. If you like."

"As chance has it, I think I would very much like." His eyes drooped shut. Seven hells, he was actually worn out. "...some other time."

She let out a small chuckle and kissed him again, ruffling his hair as she did so. Nero felt the weight on the mattress bounce slightly as she slid off the edge and onto the floor.

"Where are you going?"

"To powder my nose." Aurelia bent over and snatched a piece of cloth off the floor. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

She slipped past the partition; he could hear the weight of her footfalls as she climbed the stairs. Wearily he shut his eyes again, telling himself it was only for a moment or two. He didn't realize he had lapsed into a doze until a hand tapped his shoulder and he saw her standing there wearing nothing but the oversized drape of his shirt. She held a large plate in her hands.

"I realized I was hungry and I thought you might be too," she said, smiling. "Sliced sourdough with Thanalan goat cheese. And those fig preserves I put up last week."

"...We're going to get crumbs all over the sheets, you know."

"That's for future me to worry about. Come on, sit up."

Nero did, leaning back against the pile of pillows, and found the plate shoved into his hands while she crawled back onto the mattress and flopped comfortably next to him with a tomestone in one hand. He set the plate on his thighs, tossed an arm around her shoulders, and selected one of the slices she'd laid out as she curled against his chest. They ate in companionable silence as she flipped through the contents of the tome with her thumb.

"What's that?" he said around a mouthful of bread, cheese, and sweet fig. After their recent exertions, it tasted ambrosial. "Don't think I've seen this type of stone before."

"An 'irregular' tomestone, whatever that's supposed to be. I thought since I happen to have one of the most brilliant engineering minds of the current age at my disposal, he might be persuaded to stay in bed with me and sift through some really choice Allagan data. What do you say?"

"My, eikon-slayer," he drawled, "but you are cold when it suits you. Tying a man to your bed just to use him for his translation services?"

She cast a coy little smirk over one shoulder.

"I had to tempt you to stay somehow."

"A most unorthodox approach - if one to which I find myself quite reconciled. Did you make Garlond the same offer?"

"...I see that near-asphyxiation has done naught to lessen your cheek." She tweaked his ear, then rocked forward on her knees to reach for the empty plate. By some miracle, only a few crumbs had made it onto the coverlet. "You're using me for my wine cellar. I'd say it's a fair exchange."

"Then the answer is no, I assume?"

"Answer?"

"You did not, in fact, make the same offer to Garlond."

Aurelia scoffed, turning her back to reach over the washbasin, and set the plate down in the open space on the far side. "Obviously not."

"Ha! Then you admit you think me the expert."

"Cid would have translated it for free," she let out a loud and very unladylike yelp of laughter when his arms wrapped around her middle and dragged her across his thighs, "Wait, Nero, wait-"

"We have discussed these bloody comparisons of yours before-"

" 'Twas a jest!" Aurelia managed between helpless, girlish snickers, squirming beneath the arm that pinned her and the fingers that mercilessly tickled her sides. "Seven hells, that could not have had a more perfect outcome had I contrived-"

"Surely you didn't think you were going to get away with that, you little minx."

Rather than offer further resistance to continue their tussle, she rolled beneath the press of his hand onto her back, arms draped gracefully over her head. The high ruffled neck of his doublet undershirt was unlaced and the open neckline plunged towards the edge of her sternum, hem rucked up far enough by their wrestling that it brushed the outer curve of her breasts in a way that kept catching his eye.

His scowl eased and his hands stilled, and Aurelia saw she’d successfully disarmed him.

"Actually," she grinned and tugged upon that single untameable forelock, curling it around her finger as her other hand circled about the nape of his neck, "I had rather hoped that I would not."

She coaxed him to close the distance. Her smile was as bright and unwavering as the sun. Another defeat at the eikon-slayer’s hands, he thought-- but hardly one he minded overmuch.

Battles like this one, after all, were well worth the loss.

#chrysalispen writes #very firm lemony business

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aleksanderrs · 4 years

Text

introducing ; 𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒌𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒏 .

( herman tømmeraas , cismale , he/him , aquarius , 21 ) i just spotted aleksander ‘ aleks ’ thorsen at the beach today . don’t you know them ? they live down by the rocks and usually hang out with the stoners and outcasts cliques . from what i’ve heard , they can be impulsive , but they’re also honest . i always think of them when i hear hell is where i dreamt of u & woke up alone - blackbear and tend to associate them with bruises and scratches decorating pale white skin , a backpack filled with narcotics , flicking off the cops on the freeway with a smirk on your face .

note that this is a pretty triggering intro ! i’ve tried to put a tw before any bullet that mentions something triggering , but i may have missed something . if you do read this intro , read it with caution please , as i wouldn’t want to trigger anyone !

tws : foster care system , violence , injuries , drug and alcohol abuse , shooting resulting in death , suicidal thoughts

stats

full name : aleksander carter thorsen peters

nicknames : everyone calls him aleks , like …. everyone . some people call him sander and he’s fine with this one too , but usually just aleks tbh

gender : cis male

height : 5 ′ 10

age : 21

birthday : february 5 , 2000

zodiac : aquarius sun , aquarius moon , scorpio ascendant

right handed or left handed : right handed

eye color : hazel , shooting more towards green , but shifts colors with the lighting

hair color : naturally very light brown , nearing more towards dark blonde , but he always dyes it a super dark shade of dark brown or even black . you’ll never catch him with that light ass hair of his tbh lmfao

piercings and tattoos : he has a septum piercing he hides by flipping it upwards whenever he feels like it tbh , literally a fuck ton of tattoos ! he has a pretty decent stick and poke on his left ankle he did himself when he was like sixteen that says ‘ aurora ’ ( twin sisters’ name ) , he has one that reads ‘ murphy , 1961-2021 ′ on his inner right bicep ( will get into that later in his intro ) , he has these fingers tattoos on his left hand , this tattoo on his inner left bicep , ‘ livet er nå ’ on his left wrist ( which means life is now in norwegian ) , a little pitbull face tattoo to honor an old dog he loved so much named pawly , ‘ 2000 ′ ( year he was born ) in the middle of his left arm , ‘ oasis ’ diagonally on his right arm right above his wrist ( fave band there guys ! ) , an aquarius symbol on his right ring finger , honestly a bunch of random ass small aesthetic tattoos ? probably a little alien , a mini drum set tattoo , a random small thunder tattoo ? probably the word ‘ fuck ’ somewhere like .... idiot who gets a lot of random tattoos idk what to say , literally is probably a centimeter away from losing his shit and impulsively getting a face tattoo he really doesn’t give a fuck anymore tbh KJVNDVJFV

languages spoken : english , norwegian , basic spanish , but wants to learn it fluently

sexuality : bisexual / biromantic

place of birth : long beach , california

hometown : literally everywhere , no permanent hometown tbh

last four songs listened to : faint by linkin park , supersonic by oasis , mama by my chemical romance , torture me by red hot chili peppers

character inspo : a mix of chris miles and james cook from skins u.k , lip gallagher and mickey milkovich from shameless u.s , callie adams foster from the fosters , eli ‘ hawk ’ moskowitz from cobra kai ( season 2 hawk )

backstory

so aleksander , or aleks as he prefers to be called , was born six minutes after his twin sister aurora , to two norwegian parents ( julie and anders ) , both twins being the first american born in their family . his father was a no show from the start , and his mother was something else . him and aurora endured their mother’s heavy drug abuse , living in a crappy environment with an actual crackhead , until she was deemed unfit to take care of them and they were taken from her by child protective services when they were seven , instantly thrown into foster care . his mother didn’t care enough to ever even get them back , signing away her parental rights , and choosing drugs over her own two children . aleks hasn’t seen her since , and has no desire to ever see her again at all

as a kid , he was pretty soft . he didn’t like mean people and was fairly sensitive and highly emotional , two things that you literally cannot be if you’re a foster kid , which , unfortunately for aleks , was exactly what he was . basically exactly how you could picture a foster child’s life really . him and aurora managed to stay together for three years until they were separated from each other at ten years old

i guess you could say this is when things changed drastically for him . he assumed they might get reunited eventually but it never happened . he would cry himself to sleep every night because of how lonely he felt and he actually had no friends at all . if anything , the kids at his home would constantly make fun of him for being so sensitive and crying so easily . he was completely on his own , and really sad

he came to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t really survive if he continued letting his emotions get the better of him . by the time he was twelve , he altered his personality drastically and changed altogether . what really happened is that he let his anger and resentment get the better of him

he just became super fed up with how fucked up the system is , and how literally no one wanted to adopt a kid his age ? the lack of sympathy from his fellow foster ‘ siblings ’ , and a mixture of everything going on around him , he kind of gave up and turned into this version of himself that took shit from no one . he never stayed in a foster home for more than nine months regardless of whether he behaved or not because something always seemed to come up for some reason ? this of course , gave him no real stability .

he got thrown into a foster care family , the johnson’s , when he was fourteen , and for a while , it seemed like a pretty top notch foster home , definitely the best one he’s been in by far . i say for a while because shit went down hill pretty fast , literally in less than five months . aleks had an unlikely friendship with the foster parents’ son , kyle . kyle was four years older than him ( eighteen ) but it seemed to work at first since they shared the same room , until one day , they get into a pretty heated argument at school ( kyle is a senior , aleks is a freshman ) . to this day , aleks genuinely doesn’t even remember what the argument was even about , but this was the argument that flipped his life upside down more than it had already been flipped

! violence and injury tw for the next four bullets , read with caution or skip ahead if it will trigger you ! they’re outside getting into it , petty ass verbal argument tbh , when kyle strikes him right in the face . doesn’t really end there though because this grown ass eighteen year old man dead ass starts beating his ass . actual understatement , like , beating his ass like he’s getting paid for it type shit . he can hear people around them screaming out ‘ fight fight fight ! ’ but it’s really , really not a fight though ? like it’s just this eighteen year old beating the living shit out of a fourteen year old kid , a literal fucking child

eventually when it’s over , kyle threatens him . tells him that if he says anything at all , he’s going to make sure he gets sent to a group home or frame him for something he didn’t do to get him sent to juvie . aleks is seriously just laying on the floor , holding back the urge to cry , injured as hell , wondering where the fuck that came from . it was just so random ? he really thought he was friends with this guy and he just gets his ass beat over an actual fifth grade argument . he’s been picked on before , even shoved or had sour fights with people before , sure , but he’s never in his damn existence been beaten like that before . super low point in his life because it’s the first time he genuinely got his ass handed to him and then some , but definitely not the lowest point

when he gets back to his foster home , he tells his foster parents he was jumped . makes up this entire story from the crack of his ass . it actually makes him physically and emotionally sick to sleep in the same room as kyle , but he tells himself it is what it is . he doesn’t rest that entire night . the next day though , he waits until kyle is sound asleep to get up from his bed beside him and hover over at him , watching him snore soundly . a million and one thoughts run through this kids head , but it’s mostly just hurt , anger , disgust , and this sick need to get back at him . it’s this fight in his head , one voice telling him to let it go while the other voice screams at him to fuck him up . aleks momentarily decides on taking the higher road , knowing it could get him into huge trouble if he lays a hand on kyle , but that decision to take the higher road vanishes when he looks up above the fuckers bed and see’s the mirror that hangs on top . he stares at his reflection , spotting his bruises , the swollen bits of his face , the scrapes and cuts , how fucked up he looks , and he acts completely on impulse , his anger getting the better of him . aleks grabs kyle’s soccer trophy from on top of his bed stand , lifts it up above his head , and smacks him right across the face with it . this obviously wakes up kyle instantly , but aleks has the upper hand , since kyle is laying on his bed , half asleep , and without a weapon . aleks starts fucking him up with the thing , you can hear kyle’s screaming loud and clear , and it’s not long before kyle’s parents come rushing inside , obviously pulling aleks right off him , and well , you can kind of see where this is headed

moral of the story , aleks is considered a high risk foster child with that little stunt he pulled . his first actual offense , but it still gets him sent to juvie for three days , and that’s really just because the judge is being nice considering his situation ... i don’t even think i need to describe what juvie was like because like we see movies y’all we know JKFNDJF . he broke kyle’s nose , scratched his cornea , and left him with multiple injuries . kyle’s claims don’t help his story either . he tells everyone that aleks is psycho , that he’s wrong in the head , has some serious anger issues and ‘ attacked him out of nowhere when he was just trying to help him ’ , makes him out to be the biggest bad guy in the book , conveniently leaving out the part where he fucks him up with his fists at school . with the squeaky clean record kyle has , no one really cares for aleks’ side of the story at all , especially since he claimed his injuries were from getting jumped . from that point forward , he knows for a fact he’s never getting adopted , and , as sad as this may sound , he doesn’t even care anymore ! end of violence and injury tw !

actually hurting someone the way he did kind of ignited something inside him he didn’t even know was there . of course after a certain age , he grew a much tougher shell and stopped crying about everything , stopped being so damn sensitive , but he’s never laid his hands on anyone before until he met kyle . he wasn’t proud of what he did , it made him feel like shit inside , dirty in a way , and it didn’t give him any sense of accomplishment or bring him any joy , but .... it kind of awakened him to all these different ideas , a different mentality , gave him a feeling of power and superiority he’s never felt before . at that point on , he began thinking ‘ every man to himself ’ , very much katherine pierce from the vampire diaries mind . he does what he does to survive and he doesn’t care who he has to knock down . no one ever cared for him , he stopped caring for people – that’s that .

it took everything ( like dead ass everything ) , to convince the judge not to put aleks in a group home . he was , thankfully , placed in another foster home , but with much higher restrictions than his last . it was school and back , the doors were locked at 9 pm , bedroom doors included , windows sealed shut .... just bad , but it beat being in juvie , so again , he told himself ‘ it is what is it ’

began acting the fuck out . new home , new school , he became the bad kid your parents warned you about , begged you not to hang out with . skipping class , a nasty smoking habit , talking back to the teachers – he actually stopped giving a fuck , and his behavior just worsened as time went on . despite his own birth mother being a drug addict , he did the same shit . he turned to drugs , alcohol , and violence , mostly . hanging with the wrong crowd , slick ass mouth , not afraid to punch someone , on some illegal shit , but , he became very street smart and learned to keep his shit ‘ low key ’ as he called it , really .... just not getting caught . he was barely barely passing school , just enough so his ( current ) foster parents wouldn’t bug him about shit . eventually moved to another home without as many restrictions and decent living , really , really just tried to keep a low profile all while doing hood rat shit on the low #hannahmontanawho?

! drug abuse and drug mentions tw for the next three bullets ! he really , really began to rely heavily on drugs and alcohol . started off with weed , but escalated from there . adderall , xanax , oxy , coke , mdma , even ketamine ... really any drug you can think of , all tried by the time he was sixteen . his top three favorites quickly became coke , ketamine , and obviously weed . aleks thinks he has the whole situation under control , swears he’s become a master of deceit , but it’s only really a matter of time before shit catches up to you , right ?

he’s sixteen when him and a couple of his friends decide to drive to santa monica just for the fuck of it . they swear they’ll get him back in time , all with the idea to get really fucked up by the beach and go on an adventure . only problem is they get too fucked up and attract too much attention up to the point of getting caught . four teens running in different directions from the cops , high as fuck .... lovely tbh 🥴

again , you can kind of see where this is headed .... him and another guy were the unlucky ones , of course . aleks gets caught with only a joint on him , but tests positive for a bunch of drugs . it’s already his second offense too . he gets four days in juvie this time , drug counseling once he’s out . the only problem is no one really knows where he’s going to get placed after this , though he’s pretty sure it’ll be some high restriction group home , but very surprisingly , he’s wrong ! end of drug abuse and drug mentions tw !

the day he gets released from juvie is the day he meets a man named murphy peters , or my favorite person ever ( what aleks will soon come to think of him ) . murphy isn’t really too sure about taking him in until he gets told ‘ well if you don’t take him i guess i can just send him to a group home ’ . they just look at each other at that moment , aleks’ eyes filled with unshed tears , beat up and tired , and murphy turns back to the guy and legit says ‘ nah , don’t even bother . just a few weeks , right ? ’

he’s super shut down emotionally when arriving at his place . murphy is a single foster parent with an old , really friendly pitbull named pawly for company , no other foster kids in his apartment . being tossed around so much , aleks assumes it’ll only be a matter of time before he fucks up and gets sent somewhere else . that’s how it always seems to go down anyways , and he did only say a few weeks after all

but things take an unexpected turn for the better on the second day he’s there . three in the morning , he’s awake but the lights are turned off , pitch dark . he randomly hears murphy open the door and pretends to be asleep . a part of aleks feels like this might get dark very fast . after all , he lives alone . he’s a single foster parent , and aleks has lived through enough in the system to know how fucked up it is . the last thing he’s really expecting is for murphy to shake him roughly like ‘ wake up kid , wake up , i know you not really sleepin’ ! ’ so he kind of just sits up and turns on the light like um .... it’s like three am , and murphy is pacing back and forth around his room like ‘ aight , i figured it out , kid ! ’ and aleks is just like haha yeah cool ..... again , it’s three am

strangely enough , murphy starts telling him his life story , through and through and aleks can’t help but think how this old man he met two days ago figured all this shit out . it makes him angry that he’s apparently so transparent ( he’s really not , murphy is just next level ) . truth be told , he wants to swing at murphy , and he knows it’ll get him into deep shit , but he does it anyways . imagine his shock when this old man blocks his punch and manages to slam dunk him back onto his bed . he’s just like what the fuck aren’t you like eighty KVBFDJ

moral of the story is they get into an argument and aleks eventually tells him that the reason he’s so angry is because he ‘ can’t beat up everyone he hates , you included ’ ( half true , but definitely not the only reason he’s so pissed at the world ) , even more random when murphy is like ‘ i’m gonna teach you some healthy ways to let out that anger , be ready at ten am , kid ! ’ and aleks really thinks he’s making fun of him so he’s like ‘ yeah , okay .... fuck you old man ! ’ as murphy makes his way out

but ... he’s not talking shit ! ten am on the dot and he’s getting dragged to what he thinks is a gym , but it’s actually a dojo . he thinks murphy is talking out his ass when he tells him he’s going to teach him karate , and enroll him in boxing classes for the summer . he’s just wondering how this old solitary man is gonna even teach him good karate to begin with , but he soon learns that the old saying don’t judge a book by it’s cover is pretty much murphy to a t

he is right though . he starts boxing and karate and it does help him a lot ! he realizes how much doing these things gets his mind off everything . even though he’s basically ‘ fighting ’ it brings him a strange sense of peace , and surprisingly ? discipline too . he knows this whole thing is temporary but it still changes his mindset a lot . he mostly begins to focus on physical activity and becoming the best at what he’s doing rather than his old bad habits like drugs and alcohol , stealing , any type of petty crimes he used to commit . at the time he didn’t want to admit it , but murphy was definitely right . this was for sure helping him take out all the anger he has inside , all without doing things that could get him arrested

and him and murphy start to really bond too . they both like the same bands , they’re both aquarius’ , similar tastes in tv shows and movies , they both have nearly the same sense of humor , murphy was even a foster kid like him who out grew the system , but again , aleks really tries to not get attached because he knows he’s just being nice , but he really really starts to fuck with murphy . deep down in his head he’s like ‘ i kind of wish he was my dad ’ .... making me emo and shit smh

when school comes around , beginning of his junior year , he manages to convince everyone to let him drop out and get his ged . school really just isn’t for him and it never has been , being in a place with a bunch of other teens for like eight hours for five days a week gives him anxiety , just drains his social battery completely . he does drop out , but he’s pushed so roughly by murphy to get his ged , he manages to pass the test by late november , basically graduating over an entire year ahead of his actual class

and life seems to get better from there ! murphy eventually tells him he wants to make this a permanent thing . aleks gets so happy he actually bursts into tears 🥺

the entire process takes a lot longer than necessary though , especially with his record . in the beginning , they can’t find his actual birth certificate . his actual birth father , for some reason , refuses to sign away his parental rights at first ( aleks is like bro i literally hate you .... sign the fucking papers ) . kind of starts to seem like the whole universe is against him . every time the coast looks clear and it seems like they can go through with the adoption process , something happens and delays the entire thing . it actually takes him over a year until he finally gets legally adopted by murphy , when he’s seventeen . actually the happiest day of his life

things only seem to get even better from then on out . he gets his driver’s license , his tattoo artist license in california when he’s nineteen , starts working at an actual shop in venice beach when he’s almost twenty . he’s not the best at first , but not terrible . eventually , he becomes really really good though . he basically paints , listens to music and does a mixture of boxing and karate during his free time . he tattoos and pierces people for income , starts saving up because he really wants to drive down to mexico one day , with murphy in his rv . actually the road trip of his dreams !

but , remember when i said it kind of seems like the universe is against him ? 🥴

it’s february first of this year , four days before his twenty first birthday , and nine days before murphy’s , when him and murphy get into a fight . aleks can’t even recall what the fight was about , but he gets so angry , he takes murphy’s rv and drives to god knows where . he gets really drunk one night and starts doing a bunch of dumb shit , but his dumbest idea has to be stealing a backpack full of diamonds from these two guys . gets chased by them for a moment , but manages to get away , all while being told ‘ you’re gonna regret that shit so hard bro ! ’ . in his defense , he had no idea the backpack was filled with diamonds , he just liked the way it looked because it was a kipling ? he liked the little monkey keychain ? imagine his surprise when he opens the thing and see’s probably at least half a million dollars in diamonds . he’s just like wow that’s crazy .... i’m gonna drive back home right fucking now . four , almost five years of sobriety .... thrown down the toilet when he gets drunk , but he tells himself it was just a single slip up . that he’ll do better

he gets back home february sixth , the day after his birthday . spends his actual twenty first birthday passed out and hungover , asleep on the bed inside the rv . he tries walking past murphy as he’s outside wiping down his car , hoping he can just pass by him without being questioned , but of course he’s wrong . another fight in aleks’ eyes , but it’s really just murphy bitching and questioning him because he cares about him , because he’s obviously concerned that he’s been gone for the past five days , phone off and everything . it starts escalating until aleks eventually screams at him and tells him that he needs to ‘ stop pretending like he actually cares about him when all he feels towards him is pity ’ which , kind of just shows that he never really got over his trust issues and general trauma from being in the system . and there’s just a moment of silence before murphy is like ‘ i don’t know when you’re thick headed ass is gonna realize i’d take a bullet for you if it came down to it ’ and of course , aleks doesn’t believe him ! now fast forward to another half second of arguing until murphy’s words are actually put into action

! guns / shooting resulting in death and panic attack tw , please skip past this bullet if this triggers you ! they’re outside when a white van drives by , he can clearly hear an angry familiar voice shout ‘ i told you you were gonna regret this ! ’ , a gun pulling out from the window crack , and he gets so nervous he just freezes on the spot . he knows exactly who it is – it’s the guy he stole the backpack from like , two days ago . aleks knows what he’s going to do , but he can’t seem to move . he really thinks he’s going to die , until this man literally steps right in front of him , and , just like he stated not even a whole minute ago , actually takes a bullet for him . gets shot right in the chest , and by that time , all the neighbors are outside , calling the police . the area is too heated , so the van drives off quickly after missing the shot , no license plate or anything so it’ll be harder to identify who it was . you can imagine how traumatic this moment is for aleks , and the saddest part ? he really thinks murphy will somehow magically make it , like it’ll be some type of miracle all over the news and such – but he’s wrong . murphy bleeds out right in front of him , aleks doing everything in his power to try and stop his bleeding , but there’s really nothing else that can be done . the last two things murphy tells aleks is to ‘ please take care of all the clown paintings around the house ’ and ‘ never lose them , don’t let anyone take them , keep them no matter what ’ and he’s pretty much gone before he can tell aleks why . he gets so so nervous , he doesn’t know what it was at the time , but he starts having an actual panic attack . all his neighbors coming up to him like ‘ oh my god kid , are you okay ? ’ and trying to help the whole situation like ‘ help is coming right now ’ but it’s kind of like aleks can’t hear a word they’re saying ? like his heart is just beating so fast and he’s suddenly sweating so much and he can barely breathe . it’s like his body is there , but his soul , his mind ? gone , panicking , hyperventilating . everything from then on seems like a blur . getting told murphy’s dead in the hospital , which he definitely already knows . the police statement he gives , half there , half not . that day , it’s like a part of him vanished . he really was not the same ever since ! end of guns / shooting resulting in death and panic attack tw end !

he panics , hardcore . the first thing he does when he gets home is instantly take all his clothes , murphy’s computer , and general important things into the rv . he doesn’t know why murphy is so fixated on the clown paintings , but of course he grabs all twenty of them , he puts those in the rv as well , connects murphy’s car to the rv , and just starts to drive , far away from venice beach . like half a million dollars in diamonds inside a backpack on top of the passengers seat , too traumatized to stay in murphy’s apartment . he just starts to drive , with the intention of going to mexico , but then his dumb ass realizes he doesn’t have his passport on him . he keeps driving until he reaches san diego , and that’s the story of how he ends up in sunhollow

he genuinely doesn’t know what to do from that point on . he pawns the diamonds and purchases an rv site and gas /electric for nearly three years , so he doesn’t have to worry about about rent for a while . yes , he’s really just living in his damn rv because he doesn’t know what else to do and he terrified . he ends up in the rocks , the rougher part of sunhollow . for the first few days , he’s petrified , super afraid the guys who ended murphy are going to find him . thankfully , that doesn’t happen , but he’s still paranoid about it

he actually cries like a baby during murphy’s birthday on february tenth . if he was still here , he would be turning sixty . imagine how awful he feels , that his actual real last conversation with him was an argument .... he hates himself tbh

from that point on , all the progress he’s made gets flushed down the drain . the only positive thing about the whole thing is that he manages to get a job in this new city in half moon ink as a tattoo artist and piercer , with his prior experience . besides that , it’s all shit . he’s living in an rv , he doesn’t know what he’s doing or where he’s going with his life , he’s scared , and the worst part of all ? he starts abusing drugs and alcohol again , heavy this time . all his sobriety and hard work all these years ? completely gone

aleks really said ‘ fuck self love , we’re doing all the drugs ’ after murphy died . he’s just super not okay about it because he knows he’s gone because of him , because he couldn’t keep his damn sticky fingers to himself . he’s basically spiraling super hard now , and he knows wherever murphy is that he’s not happy with what he’s doing , but he can’t seem to stop . it’s like once he started using again , there was no going back

so he keeps doing hoodrat shit tbh ! his dumb ass ends up getting caught with resins of cocaine in a bag , on february twelve , literally on his birthday month . the offense wasn’t that bad because it was just coke residue , but it’s still basically a felony , and with his past record , he gets actual prison time . he was going to be in prison for a whole two months , originally three , but he got off lucky . however , with good behavior and community hours , he ends up in there for only a month , got out recently on march fifteenth . he’s doing community hours and getting drug tested by his p.o , he’s under house arrest too . he can be out between six am to six pm , but if he’s not right back in his trailer by six pm on the dot , well .... i think you can figure out what happens

he’s barely getting by really , known around town as trailer trash for obvious reasons , literally currently wearing a fucking ankle monitor . i don’t really think he cares about anything anymore ? like he’s just so done with it all . he didn’t even flinch when he got caught , didn’t try to run and willingly gave in ( which helped with his case but ) , like , that’s how done he is . genuinely didn’t care that he was going to actual prison . he just does not care . he’s barely living , one day at a time

i’m gonna end his backstory here , below are some headcanons !

headcanons

! drug abuse , suicidal and death thoughts tw ! this is kind of sad , but he’s reached a point in his life where he doesn’t really care if he lives or dies . in fact , he spends a lot of his time thinking about how he’s going to die , when , if it’ll be painful or not .... really really depressive and dark suicidal thoughts . the only thing is that despite everything he’s gone through , aleks doesn’t have it in him to actually commit suicide . he thinks about it constantly , thinks about getting run over by a car or drowning or shooting a damn bullet through his head , literally any type of death , but he would actually never pull through with it . he wants it to happen , but he doesn’t have it in him . this is a reason why he abuses drugs so much at this point . of course he likes the high , but in the back of his mind , he’s really really hoping he’ll take so much , it’ll kill him . that way if he dies , it won’t look intentional , just like your typical overdose . like , his heavy drug usage is literally a cry for help . he really doesn’t care if he takes it too far , he actually wants to take it too far always , but he never seems to overdose . he’s mixed a bunch of stuff before , but it just doesn’t happen ? in a way he feels he’s cursed , because he can’t even overdose and die properly . again , his idea of the universe being completely against him ! end of drug abuse , suicidal and death thoughts tw !

he actually .... doesn’t have a smart phone ! no bullshit , has some crap flip phone and a government phone he uses to speak to his p.o , that’s it . the only smart type of technology he really has is murphy’s 2018 mac book pro and a smart tv he has set in his rv . he rarely gets close to anyone , but on the rare occasion that he does , if they ask for his number , no bullshit , he gives them the number from pizza hut , has it memorized and all . you have to be really , really special for him to give you his number . the only people who really have his number are customers ( people he tattoos , and does piercings for ) like , that’s literally it . isn’t part of the gc ( the ic chat on discord ) , doesn’t have an instagram , twitter or any type of social media , actually old school as fuck , which is wild , considering he was born in 2000

he has a fuck ton of cds ! literally no one has cds anymore but he has so so so many . oasis , red hot chili peppers , my chemical romance , sleeping with sirens , arctic monkeys , yes , asking alexandria , the list goes on .... so many cds because this is really all he does in his rv . play a cd and start painting or sketching some tattoo ideas . he loves music a lot and considers it an escape , even though he doesn’t have a musical bone in his body and doesn’t play any type of instrument , but he just loves music so much , literally always listens to music no matter what he’s doing . his favorite band is oasis , murphy put him on that band . they’re favorite song was supersonic and they would listen to it together on repeat forever while driving , jamming to other oasis songs on the road as well . aleks listened to supersonic on repeat on the ride from venice beach to san diego . he cried the entire way .

he’s like ..... a kleptomaniac for real . he’ll walk into a clothing store with a large hoodie on , grab twenty different shirts , go into the dressing room , put on ten of those twenty shirts , slide his oversized hoodie on top , and walk right out . sometimes he won’t even have any real reason to steal stuff , he just does because he’s bored . will go into a store and take something he doesn’t even need , surprisingly has never been caught . very reckless of him considering his situation , but again , he just doesn’t care anymore . he spends a lot of his money on drugs , so he’ll steal basic necessities sometimes , like toilet paper , tooth paste , soap , shampoo and conditioner . the weirdest thing he steals hands down is like .... family pictures of people he doesn’t even know ? like it’s so weird , he’ll jack a wallet , take all the money , and realize there’s like a family picture in there , the wife , the husband , their kids , a dog . weird as fuck , but he takes the money and family picture and throws out the wallet ? again , super weird , but i think never really having a legit family and losing the one person he loved unconditionally who believed in him caused this ? he’s just like you know .... what let me live through the eyes of these people <3 super fucking strange , literally has a few pictures of random ass families he doesn’t even know at all just stuffed into his glove compartment , for no reason at all .... fucking weirdo tbh

another fun fact is he has hypermobile shoulders ( or double jointed shoulders ) . he realized this when getting handcuffed once , his arms behind his back . he thought to himself ‘ i feel i can bring my arms above my head to bring my handcuffs to the front without breaking my arms ’ surprise , surprise , he definitely could ! does that weird shit and brings his entire arms from the back to the front while holding them , he said undercover contortionist here !

this is a wild headcanon , but remember those twenty clown paintings murphy insisted aleks never get rid of ? entire story behind those things . so murphy ? actually won the powerball in 2015 . no lie , magically got all numbers right , won 238 million . with federal withholding and taxes and all ? still left murphy with a stacking 101 million dollars . he spent less than half , leaving him with exactly 64 million dollars . now you would expect him to start living a glamorous life after that right ? well wrong ! he remained humble as ever, bought an rv and the car he wanted , payed off his bills , donated some money to charity , but continued living in his hood ass apartment in venice beach , kept quiet about the entire thing , never told a single soul . he’s the type of old school guy that would rather keep his money under his mattress rather than in a bank , doesn’t trust banks , only had a debit card because it was absolutely necessary , and a credit card he never really used , really just to build decent credit . he knew he couldn’t empty his entire account in one go , so he emptied it , little by little , gradually with time , until he eventually had all 64 million dollars in cash , all one hundred dollar bills . he knew he couldn’t store the money in a duffel bag like an idiot , so what did this man do ? literally .... put the money inside the paintings . no lie , inside the paintings . he knew no one would ever wanna steal a hideous clown painting , he was smart about it . each painting is stored with 3.2 million dollars inside , all one hundred dollar bills , meaning each painting carries exactly 32,000 one hundred dollar bills inside , tightly packed together so they all fit , wrapped and all . now really , really stop to think about this ..... aleks ? actually has 64 million god damn dollars inside his rv , stored inside those hideous clown paintings , and the most wild part ? he has absolutely no idea at all . to him , they’re just ugly ass clown paintings that weigh a ton ( because they’re stuffed with money , aleks ! ) . crazy , right ? everyone in sunhollow thinking he’s dirt poor trailer trash , without a nickel to his name . shit , he thinks the same thing too ! positive he’s gonna die broke as fuck and alone , but little does he know ? man is carrying 64 million in his shitty rv , and he has absolutely no fucking clue at all . definitely going to accidentally find out one day ( but that calls for a future self para tbh )

murphy had no intentions of spending all the money on himself , planned to donate the other half and spend the rest living his final days in santo domingo , dominican republic ( literally .... that’s how humble this man is ) . around that time is when he started fostering aleks though , and after the first few months with him , he knew , right away , that he was going to give that money to him one day . didn’t tell him about it because he knew it would freak him out and he wouldn’t stop asking about it , but he knew all that money would be his . stored it all away in those terrible clown paintings , specifically because he knew no one would suspect a thing . wanted to tell him about it , but passed away before he could . aleks still doesn’t know what’s in those paintings , has them stacked away somewhere because he thinks they’re so ugly , but would never throw them away because it was murphy’s last wish . the day he finds out what they actually have inside though ? his life will do a whole 360 . again , i’m gonna work into that though

people just think he’s trailer trash tbh and he does nothing to prove them wrong . i think his reputation just follows him around . lots of people don’t bother to get to know him and he doesn’t really bother to get to know people . he’s a big ass loner , spends nearly every single day alone minus when he’s at the tattoo shop . lots of people are really intimidated by him , especially with all the rumors about him , and that fucking ankle monitor tbh , but he doesn’t care , doesn’t do anything to try and stop what people think . he’s like if people wanna think i’m trailer trash whatever i don’t care , and he really , really doesn’t

he’s actually kind of a low key hoe ? bisexual as fuck and will hook up with just about anyone . it’s wild though because he’ll fuck you and kind of just disappear ? half the time he doesn’t even do it on purpose , he’ll kind of just dip without giving you his phone number or even wait for you to wake up . like you’ll maybe wanna make breakfast for both you guys , but you look to the other side of your bed and he’s no longer there . no phone number , no way of contacting him , kind of just a ghost . he never let’s people come over to his place ever ( because .... rv tbh ) so it’s not like there’s any way you can really see him again if you wanted to . unless you randomly see him somewhere , but odds are he’ll disappear into the background before you even really get a chance to talk to him . gives him this asshole reputation , but the truth is he just doesn’t want people getting too close to him out of fear that they’ll abandon him . you’ll think you’re starting a lovely friendship with him or even just a great hook up and he’ll randomly just ghost for like six months 🥴 never see him again type shit

he actually .... doesn’t really like being touched at all ? it’s weird because he likes sex a lot and doesn’t mind being touched everywhere in that moment during the heat of it , but like let’s say afterwards maybe you wanna cuddle ? you wanna greet him with a hug ? a little kiss on the cheek ? he’s not comfortable with that . he doesn’t mean to be an ass about it , but he actually physically cringes when someone just greets him with a random hug without any type of warning . will literally push you away and be like ‘ please don’t touch me again ’ . maybe this has to due with his childhood in general but like .... do not greet him with a random hug or kiss on the cheek ever because he will literally disappear so fast , push you away so quickly . if he initiates it , sure , but if it’s just random from the other party , he’s not gucci with it . i think if he finds someone he actually really cares about and vibes with he would be okay with physical affection ( example , he let murphy hug him all the time ) , but like let’s say he just meets you and you wanna go in for a friendly hug ? he’s gonna take like three steps back . makes him look like an asshole , but he really can’t help it . he doesn’t like being thrown off guard like that , strangely feels like he doesn’t have control of the situation ? he’s super weird tbh . he’s fine with a fist bump , or a quick handshake though

he hates mind games ! hates them . he’s definitely not the type of guy you can give a million hints to and he’s fine just figuring them out and going along with it . he doesn’t like indirect people who say one thing but mean something else and say this with hopes that you ‘ catch on ’ , he hates that difficult shit . he will catch onto every single hint you send , know exactly what you want too , but he’s not going to do anything about it . he wants someone who can be blunt and upfront with him , someone who knows what they want and shouts it to the world , someone who will tell him what they want from the start , no sugar coating , no beating around the bush , no mind games or backwards flirting . he’s a very blunt person , will tell you what he wants right off the bat without even blinking , doesn’t believe in the will they/won’t they bullshit . you’re either upfront and straight up with him , or you can play those mindgames for like , fifteen minutes with him before he ghosts you quick as fuck . like you want him to be super unattracted to you ? play mind games with him , beat around the bush , and hint at stuff while never directly telling him what you want . watch you never hear from him ever again tbh

he actually did half the tattoos he has . he’s become a very skilled artist , really good at sketching , painting , anything involving art with his hands . it’s relaxing to him . he hasn’t done any type of boxing or karate since murphy died , but he can very easily pick up from where he left off . he has a black belt , very good at both things , but has been avoiding it since the whole thing with murphy went down

he actually has undiagnosed bipolar disorder and even ptsd , especially from that bullet . he doesn’t really know this , but even just the sound of a gun going off can trigger him , take him back to murphy’s backyard , blood everywhere . it’s never happened to him before thankfully , but it’s a possible idea for a future thread or even self para . he has ptsd over lots of things that happened in his childhood and teen years , but a gun shot would probably really trigger him . for his bipolar disorder , he has a mixture of both manic and depressive episodes , but mostly manic ones . he’ll be awake for an entire week and not even really feel tired , fake elevated happiness , but it’s hard for him to notice he even has a problem with how heavily he abuses drugs . being high all the time never gives his brain a moment to think

literally getting drug tested every other week , but he’s still doing drugs ? he’s currently barely smoking weed because he knows that stays in your system forever , but drugs that flush out in just a couple of days or don’t even show up ? he’s all for it ! catch him with niacin , cranberry pills and juice , and cleansing pills like , two days prior . he hasn’t failed a drug test yet but he’s still doing drugs . actual dumb ass criminal mastermind ? like .... the lengths he’ll go to get high but not get caught ..... go to fucking therapy and rehab aleks holy fuck

murphy’s old pitbull ended up dying at seventeen years old , in 2018 ! no one thought he would make it for so long , but little guy did . aleks still remembers the pitbull , has a little pitbull small tattoo somewhere on his right arm in honor of this dog . his name was pawly

despite the fact that he hasn’t spoken norwegian in over a decade ( last time with his sister ) , he still vividly remembers it , since it was basically his first language . like , he claims he doesn’t remember it anymore , claims he forgot , but if someone just randomly starts speaking norwegian , his brain would instantly put all the words together and he would start speaking back fluently . you can’t forget what you fully learned , aleks !

a part of him wants to reconnect with his sister . he hasn’t seen her in over a decade , has no clue where she’s at , if she ever got adopted or if she’s even alive at this point . he really wants to find her but doesn’t know where to start ? little does he know she’s literally living in sunhollow too ( shoutout to aurora thorsen sparks )

really , really wants to be a vegetarian , later on a vegan ! he loves animals so much , has seen so many documentaries where he knows fucking animal slaughterhouses and meat is like the number one cause of the green house effect ( especially slaughter houses , watch cowspiracy on netflix to get an idea ) , but he’s a broke ass bitch right now and just eats whatever , when he’s even hungry . he always tells himself that if he ever has money ( HAHAHA LITTLE DO YOU KNOW ALEKS ) that he’s definitely going to become a big ass vegan . loves cows so much , would dead ass go ‘ moo ’ if he were to ever meet one and would probably be upset if they don’t moo back at him 🤡

he has never left california , literally ever . he’s been nearly all around cali , but has never left , not even to another state – it’s legit all he knows . he really , really wants to travel , take a road trip down to mexico ( literally even knows some okay spanish from being friends with so many mexicans and central and south americans ) like , he just really wants to go anywhere . he’d like to visit his parents’ hometown , a little town in norway named stavanger . he wants to go all around south america , buenos aires , rio de janeiro , lima , he just wants to go places and see life from outside the shithole he’s been stuck in since forever , and one day he will do it ( when he finally finds that fucking money damn ) . if he could choose to live anywhere , he would probably wanna go to his family roots , in norway . he already speaks the language so it should be fairly easy ( kind of wild how he wants to do all this yet he wants to die at the same time .... sad boi hours tbh )

may not look like it , but he really can kick your ass if he wants to ( that karate / boxing in him be like 😜 ) . if you see him from far , he looks like a little soft angel ( baby face that will never go away ngl ) but don’t let his physical appearance fool you ! he will dead ass high kick someone in the face if he has to , no remorse . he isn’t as violent anymore compared to when he was a teen , but if he feels like he’s going to be attacked or feels like you genuinely want to physically hurt him , he won’t hesitate to fuck you up

even though he’s grown a tougher shell over the years , he’s very low key still a softy . deep down inside , he’s still that little kid that would cry whenever people were mean to him . he can be very sensitive and compassionate ..... but on the inside . obviously he no longer bursts into tears like he used to as a little kid , but contrary to popular belief , if you really get to know him , he’s soft . shows with how much he loves animals , and it’s weird because he doesn’t like being touched unexpectedly , looks like a bad ass and acts like one , but deep down ? soft ass heart , too soft for this world , needs to find the right person to actually connect with and cuddle gdi

he has the tiniest little scar , right below his right eye , where kyle decked him ( left handed punch ) . it’s really barely even noticeable , and lots of people who have short conversations with him won’t even realize . if you’re talking to him for a while , and really admire his face though , you’ll notice it . again , not a huge scar , not super prominent , really blends in with his skin , and usually something most people miss , but it’s there

i’m gonna end this here because this is long and i’m going to leave connections to brain storming , but below is his birthchart !

#hqclique.intro #foster care system tw #violence tw #injury tw #death tw #guns tw #shooting tw #suicidal thoughts tw #alcohol abuse tw #drug abuse tw #blood mention tw #i feel this deserves sooo many tws #lmk if i'm missing one!!#this took me an embarrassing amount of time tbh i'm so ashamed damn #( queuekachu ! )#mental illness tw

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