#fufkckcing chucks this into the void

[scummy-writes]

The Beast's Torment

Words: 564

Pairing: Gilbert/Reader

Short Hurt/Comfort fic. No descriptions of his trauma or spoilers.

The way he grieves isn't graceful. There is no beauty in his torment, nor the way his breath struggles to come out. 

It is never a conscious decision. The sorrow strangles him within his dreams, forcing sleep to abruptly end as if the weight of his emotions crash upon his chest. Always, he wakes with a gasp. A tremor coursing through his body, hands digging into what is closest.

For a long time, his hands grasp at sheets, at the pillows around him, the books left open on his bed.

But the first time you lay with him, his hands seek you, nails biting your skin as he struggles to regain clarity. It scares you, brings you back to the early days where each movement from him frightened you. 

Yet, at the sight of the sweat on his brow, the way his eye looks through your body when it finally lands on you, and it clicks.

He isn't free from his past, nor will he ever be. 

That first night, once the present sinks back into him, he leaves you. Alone, worried, but knowing not to follow. You saw him again in the morning, a moment between you as he met your gaze with his exhausted one. A small shake of his head, and it was clear questions would not be accepted.

And so the next time, and the times after that, you grow into this routine. It is not often, you yourself cannot discern a pattern in which it arises, but you let him leave the bed each night. Let him bear it on his own.

.

One night, it changes. Long past learning more of the weight of his sins, past promising yourselves to each other, past accepting differences, needing to understand and trust- Gilbert lingers.

That night, a sharp breath takes him after grasping onto you, a sense of familiarity finally sinking into him as his eyes cut through the dark. As the moon barely lights the room, you watch as Gilbert seeks your body with his hands, hides his emotions against your neck. There are no words that leave him as his nails dig deep into your skin, leaving red in their wake. There is only ragged breathing, a guttural whisper of pain leaving his throat- as if he can’t even bear the idea of vocalizing his ache.

Despite the way he burrows against you, that air of agony threatens to suffocate the both of you. His grief is teeth and nails, but you endure it, paying no heed to the droplets you feel against your skin.

You swore your heart to accept every part of him, just as he swore for you. So you do. Brushing your fingers through his hair despite the tremors wrecking through him. And you ease him through the pain, holding him, breathing air back into his body through hums of lullabies. Reminding him of your love and warmth.

It isn’t until the sun peeks through the dark curtains, creeping over the tangled sheets and discarded blankets, that his body relents. Eases him into clarity, into an afterglow he never wished for. 

In the haze of it all, though his body seems to cry out at the motion, his tired eyes meet your exhausted ones. You don’t offer platitudes, nor promises you can’t keep. Instead you smile, heartache easing with the taste of his silent apology.

@m-mmiy and I will talk about Gilbert at times, and we briefly touched on Gilbert crying and how we can't picture it, and I got stuck rotating that in my brain. I realized I can't picture him crying like others do, I can only picture it as something overtaking him against his will, one thing he can't truly fight against as much as he wishes.

Taglist (Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!): @yarnnerdally @katriniac @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bakaneko-chan @skoetiepoetie @bestbryn @nightghoul381

(Also please let me know if you only want to be tagged on 'full fics' if you wish!)

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