He needs more than the scraps they're feeding the others. I've offered a place of safety for him. Better he's asleep on my floor than hunting the camera crew.
[ he thinks of silco stepping in to protect saber at the hex club. of armand immediately assuming bob views the wolves as a group. well, aren’t they? ]
think i’ll pass on sharing those scraps maybe some other time
[ he can’t look at the thing without seeing saber (without seeing adrian) — ]
okay i’ll come by tomorrow, if you still want me to
[ after he’s drawn a line and begged armand not to cross it. something he’s never done with anyone, really, when armand’s the one who offered to stay out of his head. (something that he probably couldn’t do, if it had been his own body in the dirt.) ]
[ Though tomorrow feels too far away, for once. But he'll respect the boundaries as they're drawn; there won't be so much of a whisker of the tiger in his room. ]
[ it’s something, for armand to concede this, even though bob can’t help but think of saber in that space now. bob over for breakfast, saber for dinner. how close are they? not friends, but that seems a technical, convenient distinction. they’re more, bonded in a way that armand has now claimed himself, after saber acknowledged it in the hex chat.
he thinks he understands a fraction of what ani felt, when she learned how close he was with embry, and he doesn’t know what to do with the sour sentiment. can’t set it aside, even if he doesn’t wish to cling to it. ever the problem, unable to let his hurts go. memories of adrian’s scarred throat and ash’s open guts plague him still. in the night. at the slip. and in the day — his eyes are always drawn to the nick that’s permanently etched into jake’s smile, because it wasn’t enough for a wolf to kill him. he had to suffer first.
(is it naive or selfish to try to keep those horrors separate from armand? to want them to exist only in shadow, in the way of his own fractured self?) ]
[ Naive. Selfish. Both, perhaps. But he wouldn't be alone in wanting it to be that way, for the both of them. Wishing for something better. Brighter days. The simplicity of warm sunshine. ]
i think i’m banned from f&b after blowing it as hospo director
[ he had never seen giles’ eyebrow twitch before that. thought the guy came straight outta madame tussaud’s. ]
cleaning or something? to start
[ having never held down a job in his life, he feels less than optimistic about anything sticking. nevermind his instinct to reject matches, no matter the cost. ]
There's a patron who has requested me three times so far this week. I've run out of chances to decline without receiving further punishment. Whoever this patron is, they enjoy watching me as I'm forced to eat human food. I don't imagine the treatment will be any better elsewhere, but at least this way I can offer some shelter with the place I've been given. At least what I'm made to do can mean something, even if it is as small as allowing someone I care about to lie down for half an hour without any expectations on his body or mind.
his stomach churns and churns and churns. he’s in his bathroom before he can think. plenty quick, without his superhuman speed. plenty weak, even when he had the strength of a god.
he struggles to see what armand does, those small victories too meagre to sate his terrible despair (not gone with the void, just neutered). gold isn’t good — isn’t safe. it’s fucking nothing, when they can’t protect or promote anyone out of this pyramid scheme. it’s bullshit. it’s pointless. it’s the reason the power within started going haywire, gearing up to explode.
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yeah, i can come by
don’t eat all the bacon
[ because armand doesn’t eat anything… ]
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[ Ha ha. ]
You might have to step over Baron as you come in.
[ The tiger's been sleeping over sometimes. ]
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saber’s pet?
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[ he thinks of silco stepping in to protect saber at the hex club. of armand immediately assuming bob views the wolves as a group. well, aren’t they? ]
think i’ll pass on sharing those scraps
maybe some other time
[ he can’t look at the thing without seeing saber (without seeing adrian) — ]
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Very well.
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You know how I feel about him.
[ how he barely stomachs it to protect ani. ]
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What do you call that?
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I didn't ask to be the Shepherd's dog. How long will you keep holding it against me?
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i just can’t look at that thing and not see him
and not see adrian the way i found him
[ unsaid but thought: you said you liked that about me. ]
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i’ll come by tomorrow, if you still want me to
[ after he’s drawn a line and begged armand not to cross it. something he’s never done with anyone, really, when armand’s the one who offered to stay out of his head. (something that he probably couldn’t do, if it had been his own body in the dirt.) ]
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[ Though tomorrow feels too far away, for once. But he'll respect the boundaries as they're drawn; there won't be so much of a whisker of the tiger in his room. ]
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he thinks he understands a fraction of what ani felt, when she learned how close he was with embry, and he doesn’t know what to do with the sour sentiment. can’t set it aside, even if he doesn’t wish to cling to it. ever the problem, unable to let his hurts go. memories of adrian’s scarred throat and ash’s open guts plague him still. in the night. at the slip. and in the day — his eyes are always drawn to the nick that’s permanently etched into jake’s smile, because it wasn’t enough for a wolf to kill him. he had to suffer first.
(is it naive or selfish to try to keep those horrors separate from armand? to want them to exist only in shadow, in the way of his own fractured self?) ]
okay
i’ll have to come early
got a new assignment
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A new assignment?
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guess they finally got tired of me fucking up every gold gig
and putting the lights on the fritz
[ it was an accident ok get him a thunder vest next time ? ]
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[ Someone get his emotional support dog an emotional support dog. ]
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i wasn’t really gold material in the first place
[ must have been an admin error. ]
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[ he had never seen giles’ eyebrow twitch before that. thought the guy came straight outta madame tussaud’s. ]
cleaning or something? to start
[ having never held down a job in his life, he feels less than optimistic about anything sticking. nevermind his instinct to reject matches, no matter the cost. ]
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you probably shouldn’t try to bail out the fuck-up, if you wanna stay where you are
cw: forced eating
vague emeto / suicidal ideation
his stomach churns and churns and churns. he’s in his bathroom before he can think. plenty quick, without his superhuman speed. plenty weak, even when he had the strength of a god.
he struggles to see what armand does, those small victories too meagre to sate his terrible despair (not gone with the void, just neutered). gold isn’t good — isn’t safe. it’s fucking nothing, when they can’t protect or promote anyone out of this pyramid scheme. it’s bullshit. it’s pointless. it’s the reason the power within started going haywire, gearing up to explode.
and now that’s nothing, too. ]
i’m sorry
you can request me
[ again, ]
i’m sorry
cw: dissociation, emeto, forced eating
cw refs to abuse but we’re on the way out i promise
marge simpson kids can you lighten up dot jpeg
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