Chaos and Calamity (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rootsofthestories) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2015-03-17 07:52 am
rootsofthestories) wrote in rainbowfic2015-03-17 07:52 am
Entry tags:
Code Brown
Name: Sebastian
Title: blood ringing in your ears
Story: This City's Got Grace
Colors: Code brown: I kept hoping some ghost of me would be here still.
Supplies: N/A
Rating: R
Warnings: Uhm...A lot. Lots of intimate violence, weird consent issues, bad ways of dealing with trauma, self harm in a couple of different ways. This is not a happy fic, guys.
Word count; 1488
Notes: The angels in this universe are not all this fucked up, I swear. Shaun and Hel went through a really shitty experience and trying to cope with that is hard. Also, angels heal differently in this verse, so he does get fixed up pretty easily. A few days rest is about all he needs from this encounter.
The thing about their bad days is that they were different. Shaun's were quieter and he tied to break things but it ws mostly himself. He'd let his wings out and slam doors into them, he'd hit his head on the walls until he saw stars, he would dig his nails into his skin until there was blood swelling up from the crude wounds.
Hel was different.
She screamed, cried and broke everything around her. She would tear doors off their hinges, punch holes in the wall. Plates would get thrown, lamps smashed, if it could break, she would find out how and do it.
Both were descriptive, both ere painful to watch.
When they were younger, different and kinder. Neither of them id anyting like that. They had fun, they laughed, they reveled in the world below the skies and felt everything fiercely and brightly and with open arms.
Even the apartment the three of them shared was bright. It swelled with the love they had within them, breathed and bloomed as the three of them made it their own.
Things were different after they were taken though, no joy rang though the apartment, no happiness kept them light on their feet.
They were weighted down and lost, confused in the familiar places they called home. Both of them knew they shouldn't be, knew that a world of love lived there once, yet they couldn't remember it.
It had been stripped away like so much that had been taken from them. It was left hollow, strange and filled with echoes of old ghosts.
He's bad days, oh they were a sight. They had no neighbors but it didn't matter, people were assaulted by things flying out the window, met with her hissing and spiting like an angry cat if they had to come to the door for any reason.
To call her anything but a wild-eyed creature seemed cruel but she was just that. She was fierce and fearsome, angry and ready to hurt anything that came near her.
Anything.
Sometimes both of them would have bad days at the same time, their destructive ways meeting each other and falling into sync.
Hel would pin him to a wall, bite his throat like she was trying to rip it out and he would moan under her until she was shoving her fingers into his mouth, forcing him to choke on them as she traveled over his body with sharpened teeth or nails.
Bobby tried to watch them once, the three of them wrapped up in a twisted game of voyeurism, sex and violence. Bobby didn't have the stomach for it though, ghosts pulling at him all the time he sat there until he had to walk away.
It was only after he was gone that Hel would really start. It was as if a small part of her knew he couldn't handle how they played now and she was waiting for him to accept it.
She tied him down, using steel and iron to keep him down and bound.
She sat on his chest, glaring down at him and Shaun could only look up at her, wait for her to start again with pleading eyes. It wasn't a good day for him either and the pain she could give him would leave him fucked up enough for days and, in his mind, that was perfect.
She put her hand around his throat, digging her nails, so that he was couching and bleeding and even though there was a vague attempt to get her off, he didn't fight. It wasn't his place to fight, he had no right.
"Say something," she spit at him. The words were hard to make come out of her mouth, it was obvious, but she did it because it would be ten times worse for him.
He made a noise, baring is throat more in an attempt to get her to distracted and focusing on the physical violence.
"Fucking say something." Her hands get looser on his neck and her nails dig into his shoulders instead. He could speak if he was anyone else.
But the words hurt more than the physical pain, he can't pull them up from inside him can't make them spill from his mouth in any nonsensical way or even nonsensical.
She wanted him to but he just didn't have it in him.
She punches him in the face.
He doesn't say anything.
She punches him again.
He's drooling blood, his head hurt and before he could even try, Her hands are wrapped around his throat slamming it into the floor.
He made a noise, at attempt to placate her but it wasn't enough, She stopped after a few moments though getting up and pulling out one of the old toys they used to play with when things were good.
He was panting hard, trying to sit up and feeling like he was going to fall through the floor, that everything was ringing and not sitting straight in his head.
She comes over to him, the gloves already on her hands. He could see the points on them, fine and sharp and his heart started racing. He didn't call for help though, or try and get her to stop, even though his wrists still had little ability to move, due to their ties.
She comes offer to him, smiles a wicked, sharp smile and pressed one gglve ho his chest, forcing him down again.
"You couldn't fucking say something," she snapped at him. "You can't fucking do anything. You'd still be there if you weren't dragged out."
The 'you're worthless' that she isn't saying rings in his mind anyway. He wasn't good enough to get out, or get them out, or even fight after a certain point. He became theirs, a doll with no mind of it's own, no words to speak, no thoughts to help him rebel.
He deserved this, he deserved all of it and he should have stayed, should have let them keep testing and training him. No one here deserved him.
She slaps him hard in the face with one glove and the trickles of blood that bloom on his cheek are no surprise.
She does more after that, more to hurt him, all the while trying to get him to speak. Anything would have been good enough, he knew that, if he had just had the words in his head, the processing ability to form language and set that to his mouth and get his tongue and lips to move the right way.
He didn't though, and it was only after she shoved her fingers in his mouth again, this time with the little pointed gloves so that she could rip at his tongue and his throat, that he eventually blacked out, feeling the darkness overtake him and pull him down to where it didn't hurt anymore.
He could be good in the dark, he can be quiet and unseen and no on ehas to look at him with sadness or anger, no one has to hurt him because he couldn't give them what they wanted.
~
He woke up days later.
Hel looked sick, stricken with grief and hands shaking. She didn't say anything to him but she stayed away. He knew she would be like this for a while, then at some point they would meet in the kitchen, sit together in silence and take comfort in one another.
Bobby looked....There were no words for how Bobby looked. It was as if he'd lost someone all over again and like his heart was ready to gave in, to call all of this quits because watching this? It was too much.
"Hey," Shaun calls out, voice torn up and awkward on his lips.
Bobby jumps and then comes to him, breath caught in his throat.
Hel winces and curls into herself on the chair she's occupying.
"Hey," he said through awkward breaths. "Hey, it's good to see you."
Shaun nodded, not looking at Hel because he knew it would only make it worse but concentrating on Bobby instead.
"MI fied up already?"
"You'll be back on you feet in a day," he assured. "It...wasnt' as bad as it could have been."
Wasn't as bad as it could have been. It'd gotten prety damn bad before, he remembers fire burning away his feathers, remembers knoves on his body, cutting away at him like he was meat to be carved away from bone.
Yes, it had been worse.
But he also knew that in a far off past, in a land where no one ever touched them, it has been so much better.
Maybe they'll get there one day, maybe they'll find the ghosts they used to be hiding in the broken walls, living on the streets, but for now? They are flesh and bone. For now there can sill be blood.
Title: blood ringing in your ears
Story: This City's Got Grace
Colors: Code brown: I kept hoping some ghost of me would be here still.
Supplies: N/A
Rating: R
Warnings: Uhm...A lot. Lots of intimate violence, weird consent issues, bad ways of dealing with trauma, self harm in a couple of different ways. This is not a happy fic, guys.
Word count; 1488
Notes: The angels in this universe are not all this fucked up, I swear. Shaun and Hel went through a really shitty experience and trying to cope with that is hard. Also, angels heal differently in this verse, so he does get fixed up pretty easily. A few days rest is about all he needs from this encounter.
The thing about their bad days is that they were different. Shaun's were quieter and he tied to break things but it ws mostly himself. He'd let his wings out and slam doors into them, he'd hit his head on the walls until he saw stars, he would dig his nails into his skin until there was blood swelling up from the crude wounds.
Hel was different.
She screamed, cried and broke everything around her. She would tear doors off their hinges, punch holes in the wall. Plates would get thrown, lamps smashed, if it could break, she would find out how and do it.
Both were descriptive, both ere painful to watch.
When they were younger, different and kinder. Neither of them id anyting like that. They had fun, they laughed, they reveled in the world below the skies and felt everything fiercely and brightly and with open arms.
Even the apartment the three of them shared was bright. It swelled with the love they had within them, breathed and bloomed as the three of them made it their own.
Things were different after they were taken though, no joy rang though the apartment, no happiness kept them light on their feet.
They were weighted down and lost, confused in the familiar places they called home. Both of them knew they shouldn't be, knew that a world of love lived there once, yet they couldn't remember it.
It had been stripped away like so much that had been taken from them. It was left hollow, strange and filled with echoes of old ghosts.
He's bad days, oh they were a sight. They had no neighbors but it didn't matter, people were assaulted by things flying out the window, met with her hissing and spiting like an angry cat if they had to come to the door for any reason.
To call her anything but a wild-eyed creature seemed cruel but she was just that. She was fierce and fearsome, angry and ready to hurt anything that came near her.
Anything.
Sometimes both of them would have bad days at the same time, their destructive ways meeting each other and falling into sync.
Hel would pin him to a wall, bite his throat like she was trying to rip it out and he would moan under her until she was shoving her fingers into his mouth, forcing him to choke on them as she traveled over his body with sharpened teeth or nails.
Bobby tried to watch them once, the three of them wrapped up in a twisted game of voyeurism, sex and violence. Bobby didn't have the stomach for it though, ghosts pulling at him all the time he sat there until he had to walk away.
It was only after he was gone that Hel would really start. It was as if a small part of her knew he couldn't handle how they played now and she was waiting for him to accept it.
She tied him down, using steel and iron to keep him down and bound.
She sat on his chest, glaring down at him and Shaun could only look up at her, wait for her to start again with pleading eyes. It wasn't a good day for him either and the pain she could give him would leave him fucked up enough for days and, in his mind, that was perfect.
She put her hand around his throat, digging her nails, so that he was couching and bleeding and even though there was a vague attempt to get her off, he didn't fight. It wasn't his place to fight, he had no right.
"Say something," she spit at him. The words were hard to make come out of her mouth, it was obvious, but she did it because it would be ten times worse for him.
He made a noise, baring is throat more in an attempt to get her to distracted and focusing on the physical violence.
"Fucking say something." Her hands get looser on his neck and her nails dig into his shoulders instead. He could speak if he was anyone else.
But the words hurt more than the physical pain, he can't pull them up from inside him can't make them spill from his mouth in any nonsensical way or even nonsensical.
She wanted him to but he just didn't have it in him.
She punches him in the face.
He doesn't say anything.
She punches him again.
He's drooling blood, his head hurt and before he could even try, Her hands are wrapped around his throat slamming it into the floor.
He made a noise, at attempt to placate her but it wasn't enough, She stopped after a few moments though getting up and pulling out one of the old toys they used to play with when things were good.
He was panting hard, trying to sit up and feeling like he was going to fall through the floor, that everything was ringing and not sitting straight in his head.
She comes over to him, the gloves already on her hands. He could see the points on them, fine and sharp and his heart started racing. He didn't call for help though, or try and get her to stop, even though his wrists still had little ability to move, due to their ties.
She comes offer to him, smiles a wicked, sharp smile and pressed one gglve ho his chest, forcing him down again.
"You couldn't fucking say something," she snapped at him. "You can't fucking do anything. You'd still be there if you weren't dragged out."
The 'you're worthless' that she isn't saying rings in his mind anyway. He wasn't good enough to get out, or get them out, or even fight after a certain point. He became theirs, a doll with no mind of it's own, no words to speak, no thoughts to help him rebel.
He deserved this, he deserved all of it and he should have stayed, should have let them keep testing and training him. No one here deserved him.
She slaps him hard in the face with one glove and the trickles of blood that bloom on his cheek are no surprise.
She does more after that, more to hurt him, all the while trying to get him to speak. Anything would have been good enough, he knew that, if he had just had the words in his head, the processing ability to form language and set that to his mouth and get his tongue and lips to move the right way.
He didn't though, and it was only after she shoved her fingers in his mouth again, this time with the little pointed gloves so that she could rip at his tongue and his throat, that he eventually blacked out, feeling the darkness overtake him and pull him down to where it didn't hurt anymore.
He could be good in the dark, he can be quiet and unseen and no on ehas to look at him with sadness or anger, no one has to hurt him because he couldn't give them what they wanted.
~
He woke up days later.
Hel looked sick, stricken with grief and hands shaking. She didn't say anything to him but she stayed away. He knew she would be like this for a while, then at some point they would meet in the kitchen, sit together in silence and take comfort in one another.
Bobby looked....There were no words for how Bobby looked. It was as if he'd lost someone all over again and like his heart was ready to gave in, to call all of this quits because watching this? It was too much.
"Hey," Shaun calls out, voice torn up and awkward on his lips.
Bobby jumps and then comes to him, breath caught in his throat.
Hel winces and curls into herself on the chair she's occupying.
"Hey," he said through awkward breaths. "Hey, it's good to see you."
Shaun nodded, not looking at Hel because he knew it would only make it worse but concentrating on Bobby instead.
"MI fied up already?"
"You'll be back on you feet in a day," he assured. "It...wasnt' as bad as it could have been."
Wasn't as bad as it could have been. It'd gotten prety damn bad before, he remembers fire burning away his feathers, remembers knoves on his body, cutting away at him like he was meat to be carved away from bone.
Yes, it had been worse.
But he also knew that in a far off past, in a land where no one ever touched them, it has been so much better.
Maybe they'll get there one day, maybe they'll find the ghosts they used to be hiding in the broken walls, living on the streets, but for now? They are flesh and bone. For now there can sill be blood.