magicalglowstick | Ryslig Inbox

[Good. Good.

As soon as his claws sink into flesh Fenris feels better, safer, even if he knows he'll pay for it later. Unfortunately, that means his mind and body have done its job in protecting him, and so he slowly returns to the present. The screaming magister fades away and the hard, cold, surface of marbled flooring becomes soft like pillows and blankets—]

...Rafe.

[Rafe.

A horrified gasp escapes Fenris as he yanks his claws out of Rafe's shoulder, beads of the dark water rolling down his arm. The realization of what just happened hits him hard, fills him with regret and frustration, guilt...he fucked up.]

I'm sorry — I didn't—

[ Rafe bites down on another yell as those claws rip away, hand immediately up and pressing on the wound to staunch the—

That's not blood. Christ. Fuck. No, no, not now—

He sucks in an unnecessary breath to push through the pain and the flinchingly familiar unmoored sensation of being a stranger in his own skin. Assess. Prioritize. Act. All doable. ]

You're back. Good. [ The words are grit out behind clenched teeth as he methodically picks himself up off Fenris's legs to better sit on the next nearest bit of nest. ] The shirt should be around somewhere.

[ Talking, apologies, explanations, all of that can come later once they've got something wrapped around his shoulder to catch...whatever is leaking out of him. ]

[Fenris is back, but his reaction time is a touch delayed, eyes still wide and posture so tightly wound he shakes. But once Rafe's words finally reach him, Fenris shakily crawls over to Rafe's shirt and grabs it — it's already torn, at least, so that'll make wrapping it around his shoulder move a little quicker.

Speaking of, he's going to go do just that, seeing as how it's probably easier than Rafe doing it himself. Though he shows a mild bit of hesitance, expecting Rafe to push him away, and he wouldn't blame him. But he wants to help fix the mess he just caused.]

[ That hesitation earns a hissed huff of a sound, his usual smirk straining round the edges. ]

If you're expecting an engraved invitation... You'll be waiting a while. Calligraphy's kind of weak right now.

[ Translation: hurry the fuck up already. God. He swears he can even smell a difference in whatever the hell is leaking out of him. ]

[Okay, he's not telling him to fuck off. That's...good. But his penchant for being injured and making terrible jokes is yet again familiar and comforting in the most upsetting way — but setting that aside he tears a little more at the shirt to make it easier to wrap Rafe's shoulder up...to which he tries to do carefully, given his claws and everything.

He tries to ignore the dark water dripping down both of them now.]

I wasn't thinking — I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.

I'd hope not. Christ knows you've had plenty shots already without resorting to all this.

[ As if Fenris were the type to lay low that long waiting for an opportunity rather than making one for himself. It's part of what makes them a balanced pair, a solid partnership, Rafe's ability to wait out the long con tempering his brash into-the-fray mentality.

Once the bandages start winding around his shoulder, once Rafe knows it's being taken care of, it's easier to place the pain into its own box and put it aside. Still there, still throbs in time with a heartbeat he no longer has, but manageable. Minimal. He reaches for another scrap of cloth to blot up what's...splashed down his front. While he's glancing down at himself, he tacks on in that same casually strained tone what may well be another joke from how lightly he says it, how unimportant it is that he can say it off the cuff without meeting Fenris's eyes. ]

For a second there, thought you were having a, uh. Rather extreme case of buyer's remorse.

[ He's guessed otherwise by now but. Haha. It's funny. Total joke. ]

[He wraps the cloth tight, stopping to tear some more when he realizes he'll probably need...all of it. It takes him a moment to fully grasp what Rafe is getting at when he says "buyer's remorse", and when he does his head snaps up in alarm.]

What? Of course not I —

[He sighs harshly, returning his attention to bandaging Rafe's wound. At first it seems as if he's not going to say anything, then when it gets to be a little too long:]

Sometimes I remember things...in flashes. Bits and pieces that were lost to me. Usually it's nothing, but sometimes it...can be overwhelming.

[ The moment of his own honesty passed and done with now, Rafe is able to glance up at Fenris with his trademark sardonic stare. ]

Noticed that, thanks.

[ Is dry sarcasm the best remedy right now? Maybe. Maybe not. But if getting mauled doesn't give him the right to it then he doesn't want to deal with whatever does. ]

Care to go into a little more detail than that? Pretty sure I've earned it.

[Fenris's gaze rises a moment to glare, if only because he's trying, damn it, but it only lasts for a second before he gets back to work. It's not easy to talk about. It's not easy to recite and risk reliving all over again, and while there wasn't a whole lot to those flashes that he hadn't already been aware of it was still like a rock to the head to think about.]

You didn't do anything wrong. [Whether Rafe knows it or not, Fenris doesn't want to come off as if he's accusing him of anything.] I just...remembered things from when I was younger. While you and I were...

[Another irritated sigh as he uses the last bit of shirt to fully wrap Rafe's wound, looking it over to make sure it won't come loose.]

...When I attacked you I — all I could see was Danarius's face hovering over me. It was almost as if I was a scared teenager again.

[When he's sure the bandage work won't come off Fenris sits back on the bedding, turning a bit and lowering his head, unable to look at Rafe after admitting such a thing.]

[ Rafe is not an unintelligent man and the pieces of the puzzle are not particularly mystifying once Fenris lays them all out. This he knows: that Fenris has been a slave for as long as he can remember; that Danarius is a piece of shit; exactly what prompted this flashback and when; and above all else that people are still cruel bastards no matter what world you hail from.

He almost wishes he could be shocked. Would be easier to swallow than the sinking realization and the annoyance at himself for missing the obvious, something he ought to have assumed— ]

Jesus.

[ Apologies would only sound brittle and trite now even if Rafe were the kind who knew how to give them. Wouldn't change anything then or now, would only serve to fill the air with more bullshit. So instead he stays in his seat, lips pressed into a thin line as he doesn't turn away but respects Fenris's momentary escapee from scrutiny.

As always he turns from any such attempt to the clinically familiar, the strategy, the breakdown of the problem now that it's known into something actionable. Assess, prioritize, plan. ]

Does this happen every time you start getting hot and heavy? [ Possible, but Rafe is also aware that his own approach comes on as...a little strong. ]

Edited (fuck i forgot another word) 2020-12-11 06:42 (UTC)

[Fenris appreciates the space, especially given how moments ago he literally attacked the man for it. And as much as he hadn't wanted to air what he just said he feels a strange weightlessness to himself now, bogged down by weights still but one less he has to lug about.

His breathing has returned to normal and his posture is no longer rigid. Right now he's just...tired, more than anything, like a war was just waged in his head.]

...No. In fact, this was the first time.

[Maybe not the first time it happened, but the first time it happened in such a way, with such intensity — the first time forgotten memories melded with old ones.]

Seriously?

[ That can't be right— Rafe refuses to believe that because. Because then most of the blame, the association, the reason would be something inherently himself. No. He refuses to accept that. ]

You've never had a flash crop up at all?

[Rafe's surprise draws a mildly confused look from Fenris.]

Not...[He sighs.] This was different.

[ Okay, that's...better. Not in the fact of it, but in that he's answering what Rafe asked rather than jumping to what Fenris thinks he's asking. So Rafe nods, and uses his uninjured arm to shift backward and perhaps snake away that backrest Fenris had propped up for himself earlier.

The pain is separate and sorted in his mind now but that doesn't mean it's pleasant to exist with. ]

Different how? With what cropped up, or with how you went and reacted?

[ Can't imagine Fenris gets much play if he mauls all potential fuck-buddies. ]

How I reacted. Normally I can...just ignore it.

[It's why he's careful who he gets intimate with. Someone he's been around at length, someone he trusts to some degree — even if it was just for a night or two, nothing serious, he would still be cautious.]

[ Rafe busies himself getting as comfortable as he can manage, stuck between a new hole in his shoulder and the conversation they're having and that they're having the conversation in a mishmash pile of blankets and pillows and whatever else— And then Fenris says that.

Frozen in mid-motion, he turns to stare at the gargoyle next to him in sheer what the fuck, dude. ]

You what.

[ He knows he keeps saying it but: ]

Seriously? Not really seeing how that's anything close to a solution, my guy.

[Fenris continues to avoid eye contact, though he does shift a little closer — just close enough to give Rafe space to get comfortable (or as comfortable as he can get, Fenris knows he hates this set up) while being...near. In case of anything, he doesn't know.]

And just how am I to find a solution to combat such a thing? Sometimes it is as simple as a scent to set me off. There is no solution to something like that.

[And not just when he's doing...that. Any time, anywhere, for any random memory that makes his entire body want to shut down. His mind is fractured and he just has to deal with it.]

The best I can do is push it back when it happens.

Hate to break it to you but you're wrong. There's ways to physically ground yourself when you start slipping like that. Focusing on things you can actually touch or see, making you focus on what's here rather than what your head's trying to yank up under your nose.

[ He hasn't sat through bullshit corporate sensitivity trainings for nothing. ]

And that's on top of... Shit, just approaching things in a new way so you're not seeing the same scenery that sets you off. [ For an example— ] Get over here.

[Fenris, on the other hand, has no reference for this kind of thing. Doesn't even know anyone else who suffers from the same problem — and if he does, he doesn't actually know. As far as he was aware, one day controlling this involved just...ignoring it successfully.

But he trusts Rafe, so when he tells him to get over there he scoots closer, brows furrowed in curiosity and maybe the slightest bit of leftover apprehension.]

No, dumbass—

[ Catching himself with his hand two inches from grabbing Fenris's hip, Rafe has to. Take a beat and remind himself. Alternate tactics. Which is why instead of just yanking Fenris's blue bulk where he wants it to go, he gestures at his lap and tilts his head in an obvious let's go. ]

On top.

Wh—

[Where is this going, exactly? Fenris pauses, stares a moment, gaze lowering to Rafe's lap. Okay...again, it's easy for him to do what his partner instructs (even if he questions it...in his head, nowhere else) so he shifts onto his knees — he hesitates a moment, naturally, not because of Rafe or anything he's doing or saying...just a moment where the episode lingers and he thinks how he very much would not like a repeat.

It takes a moment longer than it normally would, but he cautiously climbs onto Rafe's lap.]

There you go.

[ And Rafe settles easily enough under the warm weight of him (and, though he'll never admit it, on the amalgamated cushions and sundry beneath them both). His hands land light and casual on Fenris's knees, only resting without any demands. Then, since he's not sure Fenris will follow right away, he makes sure to point it out. ]

This way, you're the one in control. I can still grab, sure, but you've got the leverage and you're the one setting the pace.

[It's a lot for Fenris to take in at the moment — and not because he's being bombarded with more flashes and anxieties. He can't remember the last time (was there one?) someone took the time to make sure he felt comfortable. He can't remember the last time someone took something slow so that he could keep himself steady. He doesn't understand it.

He feels okay again, on Rafe's lap, no longer having those encroaching thoughts shouting at him about how he's in danger. "You're the one in control". Such a simple statement and yet Fenris can't exactly grasp it. Just when he thinks he has an understanding of control it slips through his fingers like a fistful of sand.

He finally allows himself to meet Rafe's gaze.]

And if it happens again?

[What if it's too much, and Rafe gets sick of dealing with it?]

[ He shrugs. ]

Then you pull back and we hit the pause button. Reassess, figure out what the trigger is that time, work around it. [ Duh. But then his eyes harden, glowing brighter through a sour expression curling his lip as he jabs a finger in the center of Fenris's chest. ] What you don't do is the shit you tried before.

[ The mental retreat, limp and unthinking and wishing to be anywhere but here. It was...several things, none of them good. ]

Like I'm gonna go and get my rocks off with you checked out like that. Christ.

[Fenris lowers his gaze to the finger jabbing his chest.]

I know you wouldn't. I reacted the only way I knew how.

[How he learned to react, he means.]

All of this hardly seems worth the trouble for you, Rafe.

Ryslig Inbox

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia, skin horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: sex, body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: sex, body dysmorphia/horror, implications of past sexual/physical abuse, past slavery, ptsd

cw: look if you're still reading this thread, you've seen the stuff, you know, we know, w/e

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