[M] Use Somebody (Lars)

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Fionn
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Fri Mar 15, 2019 6:11 pm

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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Lars wanted to talk to him.

It had been on his mind since the dreamy passive had intercepted him during his dinner, a few brief words sending his heart thundering in his chest. As soon as the other was out of his presence, that snide voice was back in Fionn's head. Lars appeared and he was just ready to swoon in a heap; it was pathetic. He knew how pathetic it was and that just made him feel stupid, convinced that whatever the older man wanted to discuss, it couldn't be good. There was no reason to think that it was bad, no indication that anything was off except in the blond's mind.

The servant had decided that the only reason that the other had cornered him in the Laundries a few evenings before was because he felt sorry for him. All those sweet words and touches... well, they'd been too sweet, hadn't they? It had all been false, like Ayden, like everyone who had ever acted that way towards him. Oh maybe his former roommate had meant well, meant it kindly but in a misguided way. But it couldn't last, even a few days' thought was enough to dissuade him from... whatever they had seemed to start up before. They couldn't have a relationship. It was ridiculous of course. As if anyone would want him like that, he was hardly boyfriend material.

So obviously Lars wanted to say that he wanted to change his mind, that the middle Madden ought to keep his distance again. Even if the idea of such a thing was heartbreaking but it was what he deserved, wasn't it? The last thing the teen deserved was that and so he awaited the time of their meeting with a mix of trepidation and nervous excitement.

They were set to meet in Fionn's dorm room, the one that they had once shared, the one that had been Lars' one long before the troublemaker had come on the scene. It was perhaps the most privacy that they could get in this place and that was nerve-wracking in itself. It meant that he'd have to ask Jamie to make himself scarce because having him around would be very weird and he doubted that Lars would be willing to speak freely if the other passive was there. Fionn certainly wouldn't feel comfortable about it, even if the man was basically there just to drop him. Talking to Jamie though...

The previous night had led to a bit of awkwardness between them. The blond had had one of his nightmares again, awoken panting and sobbing and utterly lost, and well... he'd woken his roommate. He'd been so bad that the older boy had risked approaching, seeing if he could do anything and Fionn had- Gods, he hadn't even known what he was asking. Jamie wasn't Lars, he wasn't someone that he could be as comfortable with and so it had just been unbelievably awkward when he'd sought comfort in his arms, anything just to be held. And Jamie hadn't understood, not really, had remembered the sort of touch that the blond liked even though they hadn't carried on any sort of relationship since before Lars' beating. So of of course, he'd cursed him and shoved him away in frustration and humiliation, asking what was wrong with him, receiving a similar retort, even while the boy pointed out that he couldn't have known.

Needless to say, things were odd today.

He broached the subject when they'd both gotten back to the room, Fionn perched on the side of his bed with palms pressed flat on the bedspread behind him, gazing at the floor.

"Jamie... I need you to do me a favour."

"Oh... are you sure? Want to be clear this time?" Jamie shot back, turned away from his roommate as he worked on the fire. He stared at the back of the dark head, watching the way that flames reddened some of the strands. He sighed.

"I'm sorry about last night, all right? I didn't expect you to... to try to- Look, it doesn't matter, okay? Just... just forget that, I'm not going to ask you to- Can you just pop off somewhere for awhile?" he struggled to get out, watching as the other servant turned slowly to look at him.

"Why? Where am I meant to go?"

"I don't know, just... somewhere. You're good at disappearing somewhere, you did it often enough before so... do that! Lars is coming to talk to me about something and-"

"Lars? Coming to talk to- Since when are you two speaking again? Are you even allowed..." Jamie trailed off, the weight of the past hanging between them. They both looked subtly in the direction where the Savatier's blood had once soaked everything that they'd cleaned up between them.

"Yeah, Lars. He came to me. He just wants to talk and well, he probably doesn't want you sticking your nose in. I certainly don't. But it's just talking." Unless it's not and he's coming to kiss you again, he added silently, a blush creeping into his cheeks before more sobering thoughts could come to douse it.

He's not going to be doing much kissing if he's coming to tell you that he doesn't want to see you, that dark inner voice whispered and he shoved it down. It was easier to get rid of in the light, especially when he wasn't on his own.

"Are you sure that... it's a good idea?"

"I'm not going to do anything to him, if that's what you're asking, Jamie," Fionn snapped, unable to keep his temper. He watched the other wince, looking away as silence settled between them. At last, he nodded and asked in a small voice, "When do you want me gone?"

It was an easy matter after that to send the passive on his way, getting rid of him earlier than the time of Lars' anticipated arrival with the request that he knock when he came back if the door didn't happen to be ajar. Fionn thought that a door ajar was a very good signal that it was all right to come in, which was why when Jamie left, he did just that, hoping that Lars would take it as an indicator that he could just walk in; this had been his room up until recently after all so he shouldn't have to knock. After that, it was just a matter of waiting. The blond didn't do well with the matter of waiting.

All sorts of emotions seemed to be twisting within him, nervous anticipation definitely dominating although there was also that fluttery feeling, strangely related to nervousness and yet he knew that it was that special feeling reserved just for Lars, that giddy euphoria that he would soon be present. But the issue was the waiting, the young man too nervous and restless to know what to do with himself.

He sat and squirmed at the edge of the bed, he got up and paced a bit, he went to check on the fire again in spite of the fact that his roommate had just been tending to it. He didn't know what to do with himself, going to fish out the little book that he'd been permitted to have, the content geared towards a younger teenage audience in terms of vocabulary but quite didactic. The passive didn't mind, a book was a book and it turned out that his taste in reading hadn't gone away, just been buried since his arrival in Brunnhold.

The boy settled down on his bed with it, lying on his side propped up on one elbow as he worried at his thumb, the other hand keeping the pages open. When his hand moved to turn the page and the thumb chewing stopped or he ran a hand through his hair instead, the young man bit his lip. Caught up in the print, he was slow to cop the sound of movement, passives meant to hear things even if it was just the subtle rustle of cloth.

It meant that the middle Madden was easily caught, slow to mark his place and stash the volume, flushing as he offered his visitor a tiny, timid smile, gesturing vaguely to indicate that he should come in but not giving much indication about where Lars should place himself.

"Uh... hi."

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Lars
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Sat Mar 16, 2019 12:09 pm

Passive Dorms
Ophus 17, 2718 Late Evening
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He had to set things straight. He had to undo the strange and unnatural misdoings of - of not himself but someone else entirely; of someone who wore his skin but shared no part of his own mind. That had always been clear to him, the fact that the other was someone else completely in both personality and mind, the fact that he clung to the darker parts of the world as if seeking out warmth from the depths of hell. Stupid, he was stupid, he was immature and stupid, nothing like himself - Lars knew himself naive, but he was no idiot. He took no part willingly in the horrid and chaotic acts, though his body didn't have a choice.

So when he had approached his former roommate only a few days ago, it had taken everything in him not to burst into flames on the spot. Fionn might not have been entirely at fault for his severe punishment, but he had been the vessel through which it was delivered, the fists and feet that had punched and kicked until his form unraveled into blood and bruise and broken bone. Still his ribs ached where they had been broken, twisted out of place by the blonde boy with tears in his eyes, melded back into proper shape only by the kindness and magical ability of Professor Harper Moore.

The influence of their former patron had done quite a number on Fionn, that much was obvious even before the night of the beating. His former roommate had been brash before; readily spewing insults and otherwise derogatory comments at any chance he received, effectively turning the once-peaceful dorm into nothing but a hectic room of misery. Lars couldn't say - couldn't know - that Fionn wouldn't have lashed out physically at some point even without the persuasion of his corrupted patron, and he would have been absolutely moony to think that nothing would've happened.

But all things come to an end, even the bad, and for a while, Lars had relative peace once more. Fionn left him alone after the night of Dentis 27th, and although he knew that the boy watched from a distance - which was horrifying enough in itself - he was glad to have the silence.

He shouldn't have approached him. Shouldn't have spoken to the one that almost killed them, shouldn't have even thought to associate with the boy's bloodlust ever again, yet he'd pulled him into the storage room and kissed him. Now it was all on him to save them both. Oh, how the tables did turn; he might've been the one to drag them back to Laboratory Beta to find Professor Moore, but Lars had to deal with the aftermath. The cruel machinations of a murderous lunatic.

Approaching Fionn during the boy's mealtime had been difficult enough a task for the older blonde; keeping his words short and to the point, not wishing to stand in his presence any longer than necessary. He hadn't been rude, but certainly hadn't been affectionate either - no, it sickened him so to recall their kiss, sickened him to think that any part of himself would do such a thing. It wasn't that Lars cared Fionn was another man, he'd been similarly disgusted with his kiss with Clover, but... but it was... it was wrong. It was wrong and it had been a mistake for him to not interject and stop the madness before it happened.

You're just bitter that it wasn't Harper.

"You used him! You keep using his body for these horrible things and he's tired -"

Shh, someone's coming.

The sound of footsteps in the hall confirmed it to be so, and Lars shut his mouth, eyes flicking to the open doorway. He watched quietly as a fellow servant passed by - Jamie, curiously enough - and only started moving once the brunette was out of earshot again.

"He's fixing this," muttered Lars, pushing himself from where he sat upon his bed, "you're not going to get us killed."

Quickly, he switched out his shirt for a clean one, having spent the majority of the day in the kitchens spilling things and dirtying himself far more than necessary; his mind occupied with other things, horrible things, those things he had to rectify tonight. He pulled a white, short-sleeved shirt over his shoulders, subjecting himself - his body - to the cold that seeped through the red walls of Brunnhold in some form of petty revenge against himself, though he regretted his choice as soon as he slipped out of the room and away from the hearth. Lars slipped his arms about himself, clinging to what warmth he provided as he walked, silent and determined yet also a bit afraid.

The path to his old room was familiar and almost succeeded in making the passive sad, blue eyes falling to observe the floor as he continued on. He'd spent a lot of time in that room, more time than he'd ever spent at home in Dorhaven by almost double. It had been more of a home than anywhere else had been, as cold and uninviting as it was at times, and he'd made friends in there: Jamie wasn't as inclined to speak with him now as he had been once, but he was still a friend. Bennett had been the same.

When he neared the room, he noted the door that stood slightly ajar, a welcoming into what had once been his home.

Lars took a breath, then another, hesitating at the door before pushing through gently. He didn't shut it behind himself, though he did push the door mostly closed, leaving only a crack.

"Hello," he greeted in return, stepping across to the bed beside Fionn's - Jamie's bed - and seating himself at the edge, "uh, yes, so. He wanted to clarify some things."

His demeanor was quite obviously different than it had been a few days before, but then again, those shifts had always been a common occurrence with Lars. Still, he lacked the confidence, the dream-like air about him, though his eyes were just as distant.

"He's not sure how to go about this at all, but uh, he'll try. He... he didn't..." trailing off into silence for a moment, Lars swallowed, feeling the anxiety as it sped up his heart, "we can't... do that again. It'll only lead to bad things, it wont end well for either of us."

You're only saying that because of Ha -

Stop it, no I'm not.

You just can't stand the idea of me being happy, can you?

Lars cleared his throat uncomfortably, feeling utterly out of place in his old room now that so much had happened.
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Fionn
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Sat Mar 16, 2019 3:08 pm

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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He'd known. It hadn't just been born of the insecurities and doubts in his head although he had plenty of those and he was inclined to think poorly of himself. He'd thought a few evenings before after the kiss that it couldn't continue, couldn't have a viable future and every day since, it had just seemed even less likely. How could it happen? Why should it happen? After all, what good was Fionn to Lars? Why on Vita would he want him?

When the older man had come to him earlier in the canteen, he had been very... rigid and blunt. It wasn't because there were others present, it wasn't a case of not wanting others to see them being close and trying to maintain some public image that they disliked each other. Fionn had known. He'd been dreading this meeting, dreading what seemed like inevitable heartbreak and all it took was for Lars to walk into the room and open his mouth to make his heart drop into his stomach. Brown eyes followed the other closely, unable to look away as if the boy would vanish if he pulled his gaze away. He couldn't look away. He couldn't avoid watching the impending disaster that his whole demeanour seemed to radiate.

Oh no, please...

Clarify...

There was a horrible feeling in his stomach, a sickening roiling that suggested that those living flutters he'd felt in there before, those secret feelings of joy, were being destroyed. If his heart had indeed dropped in there then the stomach acid was eating through it.

Lars was sitting across from him, clearly uncomfortable, clearly not wanting to be there and he opened his mouth and began his explanation and as he spoke, Fionn's heart actually seemed to register pain. It was like someone had taken a hammer to his chest, agony radiating through him.

"He... he didn't..."

He didn't want you, Fionn, didn't you already know this? Didn't we already talk about this? Why would he want you?

"It'll only lead to bad things, it wont end well for either of us."

Bad things, you'll be the end of him! See, he knows it, you know it, but he didn't want you anyway. This is his way to get rid of you, the inner voice whispered, sharp and cruel while the blond's insides boiled.

Gods no. He couldn't listen to this, he couldn't listen to this, he couldn't cope with this.

He couldn't-

He couldn't just-

The agony in his gaze must be unmistakable, the shimmer betraying just how deeply he'd been wounded.

Why would anyone want you like that? Didn't you know it was ridiculous? What did you think? Did you think that he'd love you? Who's ever loved you?

Niamh...

She doesn't know you. She has an idea of you that she holds onto but even then she doesn't love you, she pities you. Just like Lars pities you.

His gaze dropped at last, eyes squeezed tight because he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't, it wouldn't do anything, it would just-

You already know that you're pathetic.

-add insult to injury, it wouldn't make Lars change his mind. There would be no tears.

A hand dragged its way through his hair, catching and tightening painfully, twisting slightly at the back of his head, the sting on his scalp like fire. The other hand gripped the edge of his bed, knuckles whitening as grasped the bedclothes.

Why didn't he want him? Why didn't anybody want him?

Nobody wants to be all lovey dovey with you, you daft tow-head. You're only good to fuck and Lars doesn't want you for that. Clock the Circle, you aren't even good for that anymore-

Where was that keening sound coming from? That pitched sound of pain and misery? Was it his own throat that it was issuing from, vibrating his vocal cords that seemed to be drowning in fluids? The young man felt like he was going to choke, his throat clogged with unspent tears except-

They weren't unspent, they were sliding down his cheeks as he shook and his heart disintegrated.

You can be such a girl, bawling your eyes out like-

"Don't. P-p-p-puh-lease d-d-don't," he choked out, directing it at anyone who would listen whether that was Lars or that nasty voice in his head.

But it was right. The voice was right. This situation was right.

This was exactly how things were meant to be. This was exactly what he'd deserved.

But why had Lars had to make this so much worse? Why had he done what he'd done a few nights before? He must have thought beforehand. He'd asked, he hadn't just kissed him on the spur of the moment.

"W-w-why did y-y-you- Gods, w-why'd you k-k-kiss me? Why?" he managed to choke out before he buried his face in his hands and tried to curl in on himself while still just sitting at the edge of the bed.
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Lars
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Sat Mar 16, 2019 3:43 pm

Passive Dorms
Ophus 17, 2718 Late Evening
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Lars might not have felt everything that he should have at that moment - no, he was meant to have steeled himself in the face of his fears, so why was there sadness lingering? Why did his heart drop as he witnessed the boy's reaction to his words?

Because this is my body too. You can say what you want but you're going to feel it with me.

This was wrong. This was his body - his own, not his, not right now, not when he was attempting to fix the mistakes he'd made days before. This was not the time to fall to what misery that other self had, and it certainly wasn't the time to back down and give in. He might've felt the sadness, felt the betrayal, felt the intense wave of worry crash upon him like a storm upon the sand, but it wasn't his own. It wasn't real.

Still he felt a redness rise to his cheekbones, felt the sting of impending tears behind his eyes as he stared across at Fionn.

He wasn't meant to feel bad for this. He wasn't meant to feel pity or sorrow or anything for this boy, the same one that had almost killed him. Lars blinked, the action bringing forth a tear that wasn't meant to spill, nevertheless it crawled down his cheek in some attempt to release the overwhelming sorrow. The older man struggled with the notion of visible pain, struggled to keep his composure as he brought a hand up, wiping away more tears as they spilled from clouded blue eyes.

He wasn't meant to break through.

Try me. You've just ruined the only person that ever actually liked me.

Oh, don't start. He's barely said anything yet.

Yet?

"You said you would never hurt him," Lars managed softly, "you promised. But you did. You almost killed him."

He feels guilty enough as it is, can't you see that?

"Do you remember what I said to you that night? When you made that false promise?"

Don't use my voice, stop it -

"I said I would kill you, Fionn."

Gods, please don't do this, please stop talking to him. Please stop, Lars.

A sudden nausea pierced through him as he opened his mouth, speaking low and in a monotone fashion, "do you feel dead yet?"

It took everything within him not to throw up right then and there, his body a labyrinth of shame and guilt and mindless wrath even as his outward image sat still. His head felt as if it was vibrating from within, buzzing with a low hum that only his ears could hear, and a deafening silence otherwise. For once in a very, very long time, Lars was alone - and not only because he'd severed whatever relationship he'd fostered with his former roommate. No, this was a different kind of alone, the sort that made his skin crawl for fear of his counterpart never returning.

How did Laurentius not see? How did he resent him so much that he... turned off? Lars had only followed his example, even if he hadn't physically murdered the boy across from him. How was he not proud of him for letting go of the eternal kindness and positivity, for letting go and being unrestrained?

But Laurentius couldn't see that, not right now, he couldn't understand. He hadn't meant to bother him that much, he supposed he hadn't expected such a drastic reaction from him or from their former roommate. He hadn't realized that it truly meant anything to either.

He wasn't sure what to do. He was left with only the sorrow.
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Fionn
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Sat Mar 16, 2019 6:31 pm

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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Fionn didn't see the response, didn't see the guilt and pain that bled through on Lars' features or the tear that he shed. The blond was blind to what was going on, blind but not deaf or numb. He could feel everything, feel every little inch of agony in his body, every painful beat of his twisted, damaged heart. There were spasms and shakes, the little twitches as he sobbed and flinched, unable to cope with the internal pain as he scooted back from the edge, moving into the centre of his bed, dragging his legs up, pressing his face into his knees. The young man shook his head, refusing to accept it, refusing to hear it.

He'd kissed him. He'd wanted him. He had. Even if it wasn't anything deeper than that, he'd at least wanted him like that, hadn't he? So what he was saying... he didn't want to say it, right? That didn't make it better. That he wanted them to be together and was breaking things off anyway... no, that didn't make it any easier. It didn't make any of it any easier, not at all.

But he didn't want him really, did he? Who'd want him? Who'd love him? Who'd ever loved him?

"You said you would never hurt him, you promised. But you did. You almost killed him."

Fionn whimpered, remembering his words, remembering his broken promise. He'd meant it, he had and he'd regretted breaking it every single second since that first punch. What was he meant to have done? Was he meant to have chosen the alternative? He hadn't known that he'd bleed that way. The young man hadn't known that he could have so much blood in him.

Those words pulled at him, tugged free things in his distress, things that he would struggled to have said in his right mind. The shame and guilt of what he'd done and what he'd failed to do overrode the sort of shame that would normally have left his tongue still.

"He w-w-w-would have r-r-r-raped you. I h-h-had to or he w-w-w-would have..." he choked out.

Like he did to me.

He'd only learned the word recently, everything he'd had to describe it before just roundabout and crude language. But there was a word, one that encompassed all of the horrible things. It was funny really, how one simple word could be used that failed to actually describe the true horror of it all. It was a word that had been created by someone who had no idea what it was like.

Maybe Lars wouldn't even understand. Maybe he wouldn't understand what he'd saved him from. There was no way for him to grasp what it was like, what that violation was like unless he experienced it. He prayed to every member of the clocking Circle that he'd never know. Not his Lars, never his Lars.

He's hurting you and you're worried about-

He smothered it, not wanting to hear it, focusing on his former roommate's words instead. The agonising words that wormed all too readily into his head.

"I said I would kill you, Fionn."

Kill me then. Don't leave me like this, kill me. I didn't know I could hurt so much.

"Do you feel dead yet?"

Fireworks went off in his head, the young man jerking as if he'd been electrocuted. Bloodshot brown eyes rose unwillingly, huge and wet as he stared at the older servant. His grip on his knees tightened, his lip wobbling violently, his whole body shaking as he released a ragged gasp. He shrank from him, shocked and yet... agonised. The high keening came again, scarlet face buried into his knees again. He opened his mouth and bit hard, the sound cut off with a whimper.

See, he did want something from you. He did it to hurt, he made you think you were wanted, just like Ayden.

No! Not like Ayden, it wasn't a lie, it wasn't, it wasn't!

He hates you. He wants you dead but he knew this would hurt you more. It's so easy for everyone to see how to hurt you.

"No! N-n-n-n-no! No! St-st-stop!"

It hurt. It hurt so much. If he was dead, he wouldn't feel like this. Being dead would be better. There wouldn't be any pain if he was dead. If you wished for you hard enough, could you make it happen? No, he knew the answer to that was no. Fionn had wished for that after Ayden. He hadn't wanted to live after that and he hadn't had the nerve to-

But he'd had Lars. Even if he hadn't really had him because he'd thought that the boy hated him. He'd been right. The older man did hate him.

And you love him. Idiot.

It wasn't something he could deny, even if he'd struggled to pin a word on it. He'd known when he chose Lars over Ayden, known when he'd been ready to do anything and everything to get rid of that bastard so that he'd never hurt Lars again.

Everyone he'd ever loved had hurt him. His mother who had been so unwilling to look at him before the end. His father who had never wanted anything to do with him, had snarled at him and refused to love him and yet who Fionn had so desperately wanted to be like, wanted to be accepted by, to love him too. Niamh who had said she'd look after him and yet who hadn't been there when he needed her, had been at Brunnhold and never looked for him. Ayden who he'd thought loved him too, who had always been his special friend and Fionn had been special to him. He'd thought he was but it had all been lies. So many lies. All lies.

It's just you. It's always been you. You're on your own and it's all your own fault. Nobody could love you, you bastard.

Something in him cracked similar to how he'd gone that night after beating up Lars. It brought a disconnect, a blessed numbness that allowed him to detach himself somewhat from the feelings. A laugh escaped him, short and bitter. This was his life, wasn't it? Why had he expected anything better?

He sniffled loudly, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Do you like this, Lars? Do you like causing pain? I know you liked Fred, what you did to him. I saw it. I saw it with A-A-Ayden. You're just like him," he commented, strangely deadpan except for that one little stutter on his former patron's name, his gaze had gone blank, seeming to stare through Lars even as he looked straight at him. "He wasn't always the same person. He lied. You lie too. I thought you were better than him. Better than me."

Why didn't he just tell him to leave? Why couldn't he just-

Who couldn't muster the will to care. The apathy was digging its tendrils into his brain, killing his emotions as it went. What curiosity he had - a bit macabre - was leaving him too. The questions he'd asked... he didn't even think that he cared about the answers that much. The blond was just ready to flop onto his side, lie there unfeeling and staring into space.
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Lars
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Sun Mar 17, 2019 7:35 pm

Passive Dorms
Ophus 17, 2718 ❁ Late Evening
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This was ridiculous and he'd had enough of it. Too much had already been said, too many things twisted and corrupted to suit his wishes and his jealous attempt at severing his and Fionn's connection - he'd done it already, cut the head off of the snake and now he sat to watch it squirm.

It was impossible to sew it back on. He didn't have enough thread.

"I -" the blonde was cut off when the younger began to speak again, stuttering out words of some explanation he didn't care to know. He'd already said it before that he didn't need any explanation or apology for what Fionn had done - but that wasn't enough for Lars, never enough, never a suitable fit for that high horse of his or that holier-than-thou moral high ground he stood upon.

He didn't need to know. He didn't want to know.

On one hand, the notion that Fionn thought he couldn't have evaded Ayden's alternate route was slightly baffling - what did he think he was? He certainly wasn't one to be charmed by anyone, and wasn't anything close to a delicate flower with petals ready for the picking, no. He hadn't known Ayden for years and not known of all the dark and twisted things he did. Lars would have been offended if he wasn't so damn upset himself, watching Fionn struggle with his words and struggle to keep any form of composure.

That's what he did to us, except we were bleeding to death at the same time.

"Sh -" escaped his throat in a volume quite low.

Don't lose your composure now. It's already over.

"Shut up! Shut up you fucking lunatic!" it was perhaps all the more sudden an interjection not just because it was the mild-mannered Lars that it came from, but also because it was directed completely away from the younger blonde, completely at himself - hands balled into tight fists and slammed against his head in some effort to quiet the noise, quiet the blasphemous other self that seemed absolutely determined to ruin his every chance at something good.

A frustrated groan, elongated in his throat as fingers loosened from their fists to instead pull hard at blonde locks, covering his dripping eyes as they squeezed shut.

"I'm nothing like Ayden," he bit out from behind his hands, "I meant everything I said, not - not what I just said, I didn't -"

Another sound of frustration; his throat felt as if shards of broken glass filtered through and scraped at every possible inch. He folded in on himself, head resting against his knees at the edge of the bed, golden hair a complete mess of waves atop his aching head. It was only a moment before a sob raked through his form.

"I'm sorry. I - I'm s - I'm so s-so-sorry," Lars stammered out, the words muffled and strained, "I di - I didn't sa - say it, it wasn't me, I'm -"

There was no way he could explain, was there? He'd never been able to before. He'd never needed to. It was outlandish and nonsensical, how could anybody ever understand? No one could ever understand, ever know that it wasn't only him but someone else that resided in his head beside him.

"I'm moony. I - I always have been, ev - everybody knows, but no one understands," the passive pushed himself up again, dreamy, tear-filled gaze darting back up to observe his former roommate.

"Lars doesn't... he doesn't want us to be near you, but - but I do, I meant what I said to you, Fionn, that I - I see a light in you, I always have. Gods that's not going to make sense," he pulled his arms around himself again, the cold doing its best to seep beneath his skin and curl into his bones, "but he's not me, Fionn, he's not. I want you, I want to be with you but he's - he's messed it all up, and - and I ca - I can't - I can't fix it, I don't know how, I've never had to -"

Lars shook his head, eyes slipping shut as he felt the frustration once again build within him - this was impossible. He'd never had to deal with anything like this before. He'd never liked anyone, never cared, that had always been Lars that dealt with everyone and their emotions and everything else that had always seemed so distasteful to him before.

The Hessean stood quite suddenly, a bit wobbly on his feet at first, "no, it doesn't make any sense. It never has. I just - it - I wasn't lying to you the other day. I don't know how to make you believe me when it - it came out of my mouth that I - I - I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've done enough. I'm sorry."
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Fionn
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Sun Mar 17, 2019 8:54 pm

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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Ayden hadn't always been the same person, that was true. He considered the matter in a dreamy, disconnected sort of way, drifting back, falling into memories, the full brutality of which he was thankfully cushioned from in his current state. Even before the parse had snapped and shown the full extent of his true colours, Fionn had known that there was more to him. There was a version of Ayden that everyone got to see, a charming facade, someone incredibly appealing and understanding and sympathetic and then there were... slips. Sometimes the mask moved to reveal a glimpse of something dark and cold underneath. He'd known it was dark under it all, could sense that under the facade sometimes when the older man was angered, his true nature bleeding through the outward pleasantness but he hadn't understood just how unfeeling and awful it was underneath. He'd thought that the man had something there but he didn't; Ayden wasn't like a person under it all at all. He was pure calculating, self-centred sadism. He'd even gone so far as to slip the mask on for a moment so that Fionn could see how easily he could shift, to highlight the falsity that he had always fallen for. Willingly fallen for.

And while he compared Lars and Ayden, they weren't really the same. However, the young man was hurting and so the bitterness seeped through, his apathetic brain trying to find something that would hurt. Something that said 'You've hurt me, see what it feels like'. Whatever went on with Lars... definitely wasn't as stable or as conscious. However, he knew that there was something mild-mannered on the surface, something on top that did everything to survive, doing its utmost to blend into the background, to go unseen. It was something he understood to some degree; the blond had been employing something similar lately. Underneath it though, there was something angrier, something more violent. It was that that seemed to show those flashes of spirit, what he kind of viewed as the real Lars. The part of him that had called Fionn a bitch that first night, that had killed Fred, that had come to him in the storeroom and talked about wanting him.

The blond understood what it was to be in two minds as well, subject to the dark whispers in his own mind and while he'd suspected that it was worse for Lars, he didn't really have much of an idea until the roar came.

It was sudden, loud but brief, shattering the middle Madden's apathy and leaving him staring at him in shock as the pain came creeping back towards the blond's centre. Fionn still hurt, still ached unbearably, still found his heart broken to some degree but he was watching Lars and his distress, the way he'd called out... it was quite clear that he was dealing with some internal battle. He'd been ready to tell the voice in his own head to fuck off a few nights before, had thumped his pillow, perhaps wishing to punch the source in the process and so... this wasn't wholly alien but it was still terrifying and distressing to watch.

If the other had a field then he would have been bleeding emotions everywhere, a walking maelstrom of them as he tried and failed to grapple with what was going on.

He said those things to keep me away, he didn't mean them.

Of course, he fucking did! This is more games, more of the same because he's trying to hurt you, that inner voice derided him, tutting at him.

He's not like Ayden. Look at him! He's not Ayden, he's just... he's not doing all right.

It was true. Lars was sitting there sobbing and veritably tearing his hair out, trying to force out words while Fionn sat squeezing his own knees, brown eyes pools of misery and confusion as he watched it play out and tried to understand it.

He doesn't want you. He said it then and that hasn't changed. That was just a few minutes ago so what could have changed his mind that fast? Your reaction? Is he feeling sorry for you again?

Shut up!

What is he gonna keep on pitying you forever? He came here to destroy you! He might regret it now but he'll keep coming back to do it again until there's nothing left. Until he can't-

"D-d-d-don't call yourself m-m-moony. I already said..." he spoke to drown it out but he didn't really have anything to say.

It's because you're an empty-headed tow-head that nobody wants. Nobody ever has. You should never have been born, you should have asked Ayden to kill you, you should beg Lars to-

Us. He'd said us and no, it didn't make sense. It made a little sense. He could grasp it to some degree in so far as there was part of himself that wanted to keep well away from Lars, part of himself that sometimes acted in ways that... didn't seem like him at all. Like the part that took over when he'd beaten his former roommate. The servant didn't get it but... if Lars was hearing voices in his head and they told him when to be an ersehole to protect himself then Fionn knew what that was like. If that was being moony then well... they were in that together too, weren't they?

After the beating, Ayden had dragged Fionn off and when he'd let him go... the young man had hurt. Gods, he had hurt but Lars had given him focus. He'd given him a lot of focus over the days that followed too. It didn't take his own pain away but... his pain didn't rate as highly as his former roommate's. It was what made him find his feet, made him move to catch the young man who had only minutes before spat hurt-filled words at him.

His hands found the smaller boy's shoulders, squeezing lightly and giving him the slightest of shakes. "Lars, look at me. Look at me!" he got out hoarsely, desperate that the other should look at him, desperate that he shouldn't be allowed to leave now and have them part on such terms. He dredged up something from Dentis, something that he'd found oddly amusing but hung onto because... well, it obviously carried some significance or it wouldn't have been said, would it?

"Laurentius! I won't lie... I w-w-won't say that I understand because I don't, not fully b-b-but I think I get it. If you're moony then I am too," he whispered, hands sliding down the other's arms as if all will had left them and he couldn't keep them on his shoulders. Instead, he stopped them, seeking to loop the other's wrists.

"I know what I did, I regret it, I'll never stop. I feel like a liar but I never meant to break that promise! I'd rather have died. I shouldn't have compared you to him either. You aren't- He's wrong, Lars, he's so wrong and I didn't know it, not really, not until you- you-"

Adrenaline was coursing through him, keeping him standing but barely. His knees felt weak and wobbly, the shock and pain he'd gone through so recently too much for him to cope with but yet he was doing this. For Lars. He needed to hear this. Fionn needed to tell him this.

"You wouldn't do what he did. You wouldn't and I wouldn't- I will never hurt you again. Never, Lars. I mean it. I'd k-k-kill for you. I'd d-d-die for you," he whispered fervently, partially numbed fingers attempting to drag the other's hands upwards, to give them purchase on his throat. He wanted his hands there, for him to literally hold Fionn's life in his hands, to feel the crazed beat of his heart as his body reacted in terror. It wasn't an impossibility that Lars would snap his neck like Fred, that he'd throttle the life out of him. He could be quite literally staring death in the face.

"If you don't believe me..."

Then kill me. He couldn't bring himself to do it but it hung in the air, the implicit suggestion, plainly visible in the size of his eyes, which were stretched wide open, pupils huge, his breathing quicker than normal as his whole body trembled.

"I know y-y-you can. If y-y-you need to."
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Lars
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: nil igitur mors est ad nos
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Sun Mar 17, 2019 10:00 pm

Passive Dorms
Ophus 17, 2718 ❁ Late Evening
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Steel-blue eyes widened as his shoulders were grabbed, the Hessean unable to help the small jump in his frame at the sudden contact, not having expected his former roommate to have stood or to come anywhere near him at that moment. He swallowed, staring up through tear-filled, reddened eyes at his fellow passive, although his surprise was only made more evident when his name fell from the younger man's lips.

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Fionn had remembered - though he'd only uttered the name once in the boy's presence, he had certainly seemed amused to hear it, the name perhaps too much in his opinion. If that was the case, he had to wonder how the other blonde would react to the full length of his name and disowned titles, or the heritage it held - not that those were things to worry about at the moment, simply things that occupied his head as it tried and failed to process his thoughts and emotions, tried to manage the extremes he felt that he'd never experienced before.

It was only when Fionn's hands slipped down his arms and looped about his wrists that Lars glanced away from the man's face, hoping that the weakness of his arms wasn't an indication of the rest of his form. He was shaky, trembling, but the blonde was certain that he could hold him up if he started to fall, couldn't he?

Hazy eyes filtered upward once more as the other passive brought mention of death, a curious glint against blue, a genuine wonder perhaps as to why the younger would even mention the things he did. He would kill for him. He would die for him. A sentiment that was... largely appreciated by the older, tilting his head slightly as his hands were pulled upward to rest against Fionn's throat.

Oh look, he's giving you what you want now.

"No, he's just -"

Martyring himself?

Long fingers tapped gently against the boy's neck as if testing his skin. It was clear that the older man wasn't speaking to the other passive, and for once the distance in his eyes almost made sense, almost looked as if he was looking at something entirely invisible and out of focus, even as he stared at Fionn.

"Martyring - no, he - for what, to lock us away?"

For you. You've got him all messed up now, haven't you? You should have left him alone.

"Sto -" for a moment his grip tightened, fingers pressing against soft skin before he let go entirely, eyes widening as he realized his brief mistake.

"Oh, gods, I wasn't -" Lars tried, "I - I wasn't going to -" with his hands away from the boy's neck, he slipped them instead around his waist, his hold gentle as he pulled the younger closer, "I'm sorry, I can't - I couldn't do that, no, that's... I don't want you to die."

The Hessean stepped backward towards Jamie's bed, soft in his movements as he attempted to sit Fionn on the mattress, seating himself right beside and not letting go of the other's midsection, "I couldn't kill you, Fionn, please don't - don't do that again, I don't want you to die. I don't. I want you here, like I said - I want you with me."

Lars leaned against his fellow servant, resting his head atop his shoulder to bury his tear-stained face there.

"I believe you, y - you don't have to prove a thing. Not to me," his words might've been muffled but they rang true, the blonde unable to suppress another small sob, "you're th - the only one that's ever seen me, ever... liked me, and I'm so, so sorry, Fionn. Please don't think that I meant any of what I said when I first came in here, it wasn't... it isn't true."
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Fionn
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Mon Mar 18, 2019 9:03 am

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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This was potentially the most idiotic thing that the passive had ever done in his young life and that was saying something. Being a complete idiot was one of his reputations in this place and he was living up to it. Having Lars' hands on his throat... well, it might have been nice if he hadn't been all too aware why he'd manoeuvred them there. Even without the violent pressure, he couldn't push away the remembrance of Fred's arm crushing his windpipe, the close and suffocating contact. It was taking everything in him not to start hyperventilating, not to pull himself from this situation because while Fred would have killed him, it would have been different, a crime of passion as his rage at Fionn's denial got the better of him. But... if Lars did it, it would be cooler, more calculated and thought out. Dispassionate, maybe although that wouldn't be strictly true, would it? If he killed his former roommate then he'd probably enjoy it.

And Fionn had just given him his life, a flickering candle flame that could be oh so easily snuffed out. If he chose to do it then... he'd have to not pull away, which would likely be difficult. His survival instinct was strong enough and it wouldn't be an easy thing to switch it off on a whim.

He's going to kill you! What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck, Fionn? Don't be a bitch for once, don't just let him-

If he wants to kill me then let him, he responded, a surety to his mental voice that seemed to make the dark one cringe back in horror for a few moments. If Lars wouldn't have him then... better to be dead, better to end it all, right? If Lars wanted to kill him then there would be no one to miss him. It would be a kindness.

You're a coward! You can't do it yourself so you'll let him do it! Fucking grow a pair, you weak, snivelling little-

He swallowed, feeling the tap of Lars' fingers, trying to drown out his own internal abuse, everything that was trying to spur him to save himself, goading him to lose his temper. If Fionn got angry then he always had a better chance of pulling through. The anger drowned out everything else, which wasn't much of a coping method but it did help at least in the long term. It stopped him thinking, it stopped him panicking, it made him fight for his own survival but no, he wasn't going to do that now.

Instead, he tried to pay attention to what the other blond was saying, hearing the externalised responses to whatever was going on inside of his head. Did he think that Fionn was doing this to get him into trouble? Did he really think-

The grip on his throat tightened. The young man gasped, going rigid as he fought not to reach up and claw his fingers away, eyes wide and full of agony that had nothing to do with anything physical. And then the pressure was gone.

The wobbling in the blond increased, the brush with death horrifying in itself but there was also unbelievable relief.

He was ready to kill you, you fucking lugger! Don't go fucking swooning over him.

But he was. His knees gave out a little, slumping against his former roommate with a whimper, glad for his arms around him, glad that he didn't have far to fall. His arms looped around the other's neck so that he wouldn't collapse in a heap, grateful that it was just a few short steps - with support - to Jamie's bed. They were seated beside each other, each holding onto the other as if they needed to, each of them a lifeline to the other. That probably wasn't inaccurate.

The middle Madden tried to speak but all he managed was a soft croak, mouth impossibly dry. He tried to wet it, swallowing hard.

You aren't dead... but I don't know how the fuck you aren't, a snide voice snapped in his head. He wasn't listening to it and it was having a hard time because he had Lars pressed against him, every cruel word hardly seeming viable given his behaviour. His heart was still molten, a pit of fiery agony but... there was hope there, some dull beat that suggested that there was still life there. In spite of the pain, his feeling for the boy hadn't diminished, not in the slightest and his soul sang at the contact, the apologies.

"It's okay. I won't do it again, I just... I wanted you to know and words... I couldn't do it with words, they weren't enough," he managed hoarsely, kissing the other's head, hand moving to pet golden curls. His legs were still shaky and weak, all of him was but he still tried to manoeuvre them so that he could get them over Lars' lap, attempt to crawl into it so that he could embrace the boy properly.

Oh look, there's the slut coming o-

Piss off!

The closeness he was after had nothing to do with sex, nothing at all. He just wanted to be close to him, as close to him as he could be. Even though he was hurting, even though it was Lars who had done it, his presence was soothing, the contact with him a balm that Fionn required. This was what he'd needed last night, this was what he'd needed that Jamie had failed to provide. As long as he had him to cling onto, his nightmares couldn't keep ahold of him, maybe wouldn't even occur in the first place. But he wouldn't have him. They couldn't stay like this.

The teen wasn't thinking about the fact that Jamie could come back at any moment, that Lars would have to go back to his room but simply revelling in the moment, although he wished that he had a handkerchief to offer. All he had was a sleeve and he undid the buttons at the cuff with trembling fingers so he could dab the material over damp cheeks.

"We say things to hurt sometimes so that... people keep their distance but... you're right, Lars. This is- This won't end well," he whispered, leaning away so that he could look at the older man properly. He sighed before he moved to nuzzle into him again.

"But I do want this," he added, a wistful sigh on his breath.

That was when the door being left on the lean became an unfortunate circumstance because Jamie just walked in, evidently forgetting about the idea of knocking, his mind seemingly occupied with something else. He stopped in the doorway, goggling. He knew what Fionn was like obviously although he also knew that he was weird at the moment but seeing Lars with anyone was... new. So he stared.

Fionn sighed, tilting his head in his roommate's direction.

"Would you like a picture, Jamie?" he asked dryly.

"Uhm... uh... n-n-n-no, I j-j-just... I'll um..."
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Lars
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: nil igitur mors est ad nos
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Mon Mar 18, 2019 9:32 pm

Passive Dorms
Ophus 17, 2718 ❁ Late Evening
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Lars could understand how words sometimes weren't enough, how sometimes actions were the only ways to convey the feelings and thoughts held inside. He had never been an overly-emotional person himself, and he'd never truly needed to explain something as he felt he did in this moment, but he could still understand what the younger boy had meant. He leaned into the contact as Fionn kissed his head and brought a hand to pet the golden mess atop his head.

His confusion was evident when the younger moved, shifting around so that his legs ran across his lap and he could come closer to return his embrace, but the Hessean didn't voice any sign of protest and didn't move away. This was all still very new - not only... feelings, but anything physical and affectionate was beyond him to a point; he'd only hugged a handful of times before, and close contact wasn't something the blonde had ever grown used to.

"I - I..." he began quietly, trailing off as he listened to his former roommate speak instead.

He was... agreeing with Lars? Agreeing that it wouldn't end well? Chalking all of it up to "he wanted me to keep my distance for both of us?" Lars shook his head against Fionn's, the action slow but defiant nonetheless, "no, I - it wasn't -"

Oh he could feel that stinging as it grew to be a familiar sensation in his eyes, his tears renewing in a sudden wave despite Fionn's assurance that he, too, wanted this. No, how could he say that and then claim to want it still? How could he believe it would end badly for both of them and yet give in?

"I d - didn't say that," escaped his aching throat, his words strained and his expression defeated. How could he explain? How could he ever explain?

He never could. No one would ever understand.

"It - it was Lars, I'm not -" but then the door was pushed open, the small sound of wood moving through the air catching the oldest passive's attention and dragging his eyes away from the boy that embraced him. For a moment the blonde shut his eyes, willing his tears to evaporate, burying his face in the crook of Fionn's neck in some search for comfort. He didn't want to deal with Jamie, not right now, not when he was already struggling to deal with his own problems.

"Uh, you okay, Lars?"

A muffled sound of annoyance from the Hessean, who pulled a hand from Fionn's waist to shoo the brunette, "I'll be better when you're gone."

"Right, right," Jamie offered with a shaking of his head, the servant turning in the doorway to leave - but not before shooting a rather pointed look at the youngest in the room.

"You..." Lars started, his soft voice barely above a whisper as he heard the door shut behind Jamie, "...you don't think it will end well, you agree with Lars. I... I don't know why you would want me if you think it's going to cause you trouble," admitted the blonde, "what a - what are we supposed to do then?"
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