Hey Descendants!
I'm back from my mini-vacay! Ready for a new week of updates?
Buckle up for this chapter, it's going to get a little intense.
So, I'll just let you get to it, one thing:
Warning, there are body modification-ish themes ahead, but everything is done with consent.
We hope you enjoy the chapter.
Lots of Love,
-Dark-
He doesn't want to talk about it.
He doesn't want to talk about it.
Harry grimaces.
But why?
Why didn't he want to talk about it?
He holds up the hoodie T set out for him, glaring at it without even seeing it.
What had he done to make T run?
He absently throws the hoodie over his arm as he clears his throat.
He grimaces again. Not even five fucking minutes and he was struggling to respect that T didn't want to talk about something.
He was an asshole. A concerned and confused asshole, but a fucking asshole.
"Hey T…" He hears himself call out.
"Sup?" T questions from where he was still rummaging in one of the room's corners.
"I uh… I know ya don'nah be wantin' ta be talkin' 'bout it, an ya don'nah be havin' to," He taps his fist against his forehead, "But um, can ya just be ah tellin' me what I be ah doin' wrong?"
Several long moments pass before T leans against the door frame.
"You didn't, it's- Just, don't worry about it. It was me."
He stares at him. But what was him? And it took two for something to be wrong, and that was what worried him. "But I be doin' somethin' that be makin' ya feel somethin'."
T shifts uncomfortably. "I just- uh," He sighs, "It's-" He squeezes his arm.
He'd gone over the whole thing at least a hundred times in his head. They'd been lightly rubbing against each other, both had roaming hands. His eyes narrow as he takes in T's hand currently digging into his arm. "Please be stoppin' that." He sighs as he walks over and pulls T's hand off his arm, "Whatever be ah happenin', it ain'nah worth ya hurtin' yerself."
"Sorry," T turns away.
"Look it T, I be likin' when we be practicin' kissin', an' when we be makin' each other feel good, but I don'nah be wantin' ta hurt ya like that again." He frowns as he rubs his thumb over the back of T's wrist, frowning at the roughness. His brow furrows.
His eyes narrow, "I uh-" He blinks, "I don'nah be wantin' ta take advantage of ah situation where neither o' us be fully knowin'-" He bites his lip.
Was it the scars?
The bottom of his foot tingles uncomfortably. Was it?
"Can I um, can I be ah seein' somethin'?"
T tilts his head to the side studying him for a moment, "Okay?"
He takes a deep breath before he quickly grasps T's hips between his hands, pushing the overly large hoodie and several layers of shirts out of the way until his hands find bare skin.
He eyes T for the briefest second, too afraid to ask for permission to continue. He needed to know if this was the problem.
Because if it was, he could relate.
He runs his hands up until he finds the initials branded into his skin and lets his fingertips lightly trace it.
T stiffens before he turns, coiled and obviously about to bolt.
It was the scars.
"Wait-" He clamps his hand around T's wrist, "Please, just- I get it."
T looks back, face shrouded in his hood and trembling as he stares at him for a moment, "Hook," he starts sounding utterly lost. "Let go."
He scrapes his barefoot across the floor. "No T. I ain'nah lettin' you run 'cause o' stupid scars ya did'nah be askin' for." He closes his eyes as his grip tightens, "Be listenin' to me though. I get it, or 'least I be thinkin' I get it. But I can'nah be helpin' if ya don'nah be talkin' ta me." He bites his lip, "Just. Me."
T stares at him for a long minute. "I don't want to." He shifts in discomfort. "It doesn't matter. Can't we just drop it?"
"If it don'nah be matterin' none, then why do ya be ah runnin' away from me?"
T drops his head and looks away, moments stretching between them.
"If ya can'nah be backin' that up-" He sighs before he pulls T to the couch, "Look, be givin' me a tick ta be tryin' ta understand, and no," He shakes a finger at him, "no runnin'. Can ya be givin' me that?"
T shifts before he reluctantly gives a stiff nod.
"Thank ya." He lightly pushes T into the couch, "I um, can I be showin' ya somethin'?"
T frowns, "What?" He asks as he crosses his arms over the hem of his hoodie.
He takes a deep breath before he sets out of his boot, "I- I ain'nah showed you this before." He admits as he tugs the ratty sock off, "But, this be somethin' I hope be showin' ya I can be understandin'," He sighs, "or can even be helpin' ya with." He shifts awkwardly on his other foot before he turns and holds his foot up to give T a view of the bottom of his foot.
More specifically, the burn scar on the bottom of his foot.
T studies it for a moment before he pushes against the couch and looks away.
"That be where the ring we be ah huntin' put their mark," His draws in a breath through clamped teeth, "their claim on me body, 'cause I were bein' to pretty ta be putin' it anywhere else."
T's head whips back as he tilts his head at the scar for a long moment before a low growl leaves him. "Those fucks-" He shakes his head, "You burned it off?"
"Well, I did'nah be ah doin' it," He sighs before he sits down next to T, "The ring be ownin' me and me older sister, Harriet. She, she be too old by the time we be gettin' the claims, so they be usin' her for other things." He shakes his head as the old rage and disgust burn at the back of his throat, "Anyway, nicest thing she ever be ah doin' for me be burnin' the claim off when she be findin' out Uma were tryin' ta recruit me. Rescue me." His voice trails.
T leans against him but stays silent for several moments as he studies the compass on his palm before he shuts it into a fist. "Fuck people." He frowns. "It's… I haven't thought about burnin' them off." He huffs. "Which is fuckin' stupid." He sighs, "I've burnt us for so much less."
"Aye. Ya have." He nods slowly before he leans back against the couch, wrapping one arm around T in the process, "But, do ya be thinkin' 'bout it now?" He asks, wondering if he had it in him to help T with something that could possibly heal and hurt so much.
T chews on his lip, "Well, yeah…" He turns towards Deez's mural in the side of the room for a couple of moments. "I- That... must've sucked. A burn like that on the bottom of your foot so young… Being-" He growls his fists curling tightly as he goes stiff again. "Fucked up pieces of fucking shit."
"Aye, they all be that exactly." He hugs T to his side, "All o' them." He bites his bottom lip before he shifts to look at T, "I can be helpin' ya with it, if ya be wantin' them gone." He takes a slow, deep breath.
There were so many claims on him though, did he have it in him to burn T? That many times?
His eyes harden. He did if it would help.
T studies him for a moment before he turns to Jay's mural. "That seems like a shit thing to offer…"
He taps his foot, "But I be ah gettin' it T." He sighs, "I can be remembering how free I be feelin' the moment the claim be gone." He smiles, "The moment a scar I be choosin' be takin' it's place."
"I, that's-" T frowns, "I couldn't ask you to do that."
"Ya did'nah be havin' to. I be askin' if ya be wantin' it."
"I definitely want them the fuck off…" T frowns.
"Then let's be doin' it." Harry nods as he stands up, pulling T with him, "The sooner we be ah doin' it, the faster ya be healin' up an' can be gettin' back in the game, aye?"
T solidly plants his feet, "I don't want to do it on the ship."
"Duh." Harry rolls his eyes, "Like I be wantin' ta do this on the ship where Gil can be wringin' me neck."
"Why would Gil strangle you?"
He snorts, "Cause ya be gettin' hurt an' I be the one causin' it? Cause we don'nah be hurtin' family? Cause even if I be doin' this ta you, he be knowin' ah girl be in there too?" He chuckles, "Be takin' yer pick, there be plenty o' Gil like reasons."
"Fair." T rubs the back of his neck, "You sure? I think I can do it alone…"
"I don'nah be doubtin' ya can." He sighs before he rests a hand on T's head, "I be doubted the should. Ya be ah havin' a few in mighty hurtful places." He shivers, "An the belt-like one-"
"I don't give a flying fuck 'bout the belt." T drops his head as he fidgets with the hem of his hoodie, "That's not what I give a shit about." He frowns, "But, seriously Hook- That's a fucked up thing to ask ya to do… I can do it. I just-"
Harry shakes his head as he puts a finger in front of T's lips, "It be hard ta be drinkin' an' burnin' yerself proper like."
"Well yeah, but I wouldn't drink."
"Except ya are." Harry folds his arms over his chest, "I be insistin'." He could at least live with what he was about to do if T was drunk. He walks over to the table and starts looking through the bags they'd taken from Hell Hall.
"Even you just admitted that would be stupid."
"Except ya ain'nah doin' it yerself." Harry shrugs. "Please, I know it be ah fucked up thing ta be wantin' ta help with, but ya be torturin' yerself enough. An' I can be lookin' at this as I be helpin' ya, and knowin' ya be drink silly be helpin' take ah bit o' the fucked up outta it."
T studies him for a moment indecisively. "And that's how you'd view it?"
He straightens up, two unopened bottles of rum in his hands, and turns to T, "Will it be ah helpin'?"
"I mean, yeah-"
"And do ya be wantin' it done?"
"Well now that it's in my head."
"Then aye, that be how I be lookin' at it." Harry nods as he holds out one of the bottles.
Besides, if he was the one doing this, there was a good chance he'd be able to get T to sleep through a large chunk of the healing. Which would make him happy. It would make Uma and the rest of the family happy too.
Because he knew better than to hide this from them. Gil still looked daggers at him anytime he even teased at having a secret lately.
"If you're sure…"
He was pretty sure this was the best he felt in months. Everything had washed away after he'd drank a fourth of the bottle. By half he was feeling hot, sweat coating his forehead. But fuck if it didn't feel great. Whatever the fuck was in this shit was amazing. Why the hell were him and Faustina even trying to alter it? Dumb. It clearly worked just fine on its own.
"I nearly be ah havin' everything ready," Harry explains absently as he sets up the bandages, bottle alcohol, and jars of ointment. He shifts to check on the smoking pot resting on Jay's dumbbells. "How that bottle be treatin' ya?"
"I think it likes me." He grins widely.
"Good," Harry chuckles before he sweeps T up into his arms and gently settles him on the table. "I'm gonna be needin' easy access to the shit I needin' ta be ah gettin' rid o' for ya, so let's be gettin' ya down ta underwear."
He huffs petulantly. "But-"
"I know, it ain'nah gonna be fun." Harry agrees with a pout, "But we already be agreein' I might be havin' ta be holdin' ya down, so the less in the way the faster this can be ah gettin' done right."
He pouts as he sits up, "Lame." He mumbles as he starts to pull off his layers. The sensation of almost falling makes him giddy as he nearly face-plants off the edge.
"Oh aye, ya be gettin' there." Harry chuckles before he helps untangle T from his clothes. He carefully bundles them up, forming a pillow for T to lay on. "Now, why don'nah ya be ah finishin' that bottle down, be ah puttin' it outta it's misery."
T mock salutes him, "Sir, yes sir." He chuckles as he pats around the table absently till he finds the bottle and starts guzzling it.
Like he was going to argue that order.
He'd tried to argue before they'd started. But Harry was having none of it. Now though? Now he didn't know what he'd been bitching about.
He swings his legs over the edge of the table. One hand braced on it to keep him sitting up straight.
Harry chuckles before he straightens T back out, "Stay."
"You said drink."
"Aye, be ah downin' it like ah good lad." Harry encouragingly tilts the bottle up towards T's lips.
He smiles amused as he accepts the bottle and finishes it.
Harry takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "Heat, back o' ah spoon, alcohol, bandages, ointments, ah-" He finishes braiding together the small leather belts and bits of scrap fabric he'd found around the hideout, "Annnd sleep drink." He adds in a whisper before he pats his pocket.
"That bottle be drained?" He calls out as he snaps the length of the band between his hands, testing out how strong it was.
"Yes sir," T mock salutes him before flopping back onto his clothes pillow and stares at the blank ceiling. "Bitch never painted it."
Harry chuckles as he looks up, "What kinda Dragon can'nah be paintin' ah roof?"
"Right?"
"Okay then." Harry swallows hard as he walks over, "So now, how long ya able ta be ah fightin' yer sleep drink huh?"
"Depends how bored am I?"
"How bored ya be feelin'?" Harry sighs.
"Not much."
"Why don'nah ya just be ah tippin' this down too then?" Harry offers with a half groan as he pulls the dark vial out of his pocket.
"The stuff!" T's eyes widen, "Duh." He giggles. "Shoulda thought about that sooner." He snorts as he takes the bottle. Both made his head feel light. And made things easier to deal with. Apparently. Why the fuck hadn't he been mixing both for forever now? "Dumb." He scrunches his nose. He bites down on the cork before he pulls it out with his teeth. He spits it into his hand before he downs it.
He turns and throws the cork towards the pot. He snorts, cracking up into a rolling laugh when it misses by half the room. "Hope I dart better."
Harry chuckles before he retrieves the cork and tosses it into the pot, "Well, now we be ah knowin' ya be shit fer aim when ya be drunk."
"No I'm didn't-" T sticks out his tongue at him. "Not."
"I be ah likin' drunk T, ya be ah forgettin' shit ya be messin' up so fast." He shakes his head as he walks over, helping T settle back on the table. "Now, afore I can be ah startin', I be ah requirin' ah kiss-" He points to his lips as he leans over him, "-an ah promise ya be ah lovin' me now an' when I be ah finishin' this."
T blinks. "I be lovin' ya more after it be finished then I did afore ya be doin' it." He grins even as he tilts his head up and presses his lips against Harry's. "I be ah likin' ya stealin' em more." He crinkles his nose.
Harry chuckles as T falls back to the table, "I'll be ah 'memberin' that." He sighs as he presses his fingers to his lips before he holds out the braided band, "This thing be more for me than you. It be ah makin' it easier for me." He sighs when T stares at it without taking it, "It be for ya ta be ah bitin' down on."
"Oh." T shrugs, "Aye." He examines it for a minute. "What ev gets it done." He pops it in his mouth.
Harry nods before he inches the table closer to the fire he'd set up. He sighs. "Right, just gotta be ah doin' it now." He takes a rag and the bottle of collected alcohol, "I'm ah be ah cleanin' 'em now." He warns as he runs a hand through T's hair, "So be ah stayin' still for me love."
"Mf-huh" T nods as he bites down on the leather- Which as much as it sucked to have wedged in his mouth was surprisingly comfortable to chew on.
Harry makes quick work of swabbing the three areas down.
The C.F. branded into his skin above the band tied around his chest.
The C.F. carved into the skin near his hip bone.
And then the worse one. The one that scared him. The newly healed C.F. intricately branded into his inner thigh.
He sighs as he sets T's leg into position, resting it on his jacket.
He planned to hit that one last, hoping and praying to any god listening that T would have passed out from shock by the time he got there.
He bites his lip as he checks on the fire. "I ain'nah gonna be stopping long between them," he warns gently, "Best ta just be gettin' 'em done quick like."
He grabs one of the metal instruments in the flames with a towel, and before he can think too hard about it, he presses the thin strip to his outer thigh, hissing in pain before he tosses it back into the fire.
T shoots up in concern leather strip in hand. "HOOK! Who's aim-shit now! Wrong leg!"
Harry chuckles as he looks down, examining his leg before he lets his boxers fall to cover the burn. "Nah, I be wantin' ta make sure it be hot enough first. Looks like it be ah workin' like ah charm." He grits his teeth before he takes a deep breath and stands up. "Be ah good lad an' be puttin' that back in yer mouth so I can be gettin' started."
"No more tests." T glares.
"No more, it just be yer turn now." Harry promises as he helps T lay back down and resettles him.
T nods petulantly, glaring at him before he pops the leather into his mouth.
Harry grabs the towel again, "Ready?"
"Dosh ifts madfer?" He grimaces.
He grabs one of the metal spoons from the fire before he turns and presses the back over the letters marring T's chest.
T's eyes shoot open before he sits up and throws a fist into Harry's face.
Harry lets out a barking yelp before he drops the rapidly cooling spoon into a bucket of water on the floor and presses his fingers to the side of his face. Though it hadn't been unexpected, he'd thought he'd get more of a warning. "Mate, ya nearly be ah gettin' me eye-"
T was out cold.
Thank all the gods. He quickly turns to the fire again, grabbing another spoon before pressing it to the mark on his hip.
The smell of cooking flesh was nauseating as he drops the spent spoon and turns for the last one. Before he can do more than hold T's leg in place, he presses the glowing spoon to his inner thigh.
Even in his sleep T jerks and lets out a garbled cry of pain.
A tear runs down Harry's cheek as he throws the last spoon as hard as he can across the room before he grabs the bottle and douses the burns once more.
He'd done it. He'd managed to burn away the sick freaks claim to him.
His breath comes out shaky as he slathers ointment over the burns, remembering Yensid's advice to use more than you normally would to keep the fibers of the bandage from sticking.
He quickly bandages the wounds before he carefully collects T from the table and moves him to the couch. He makes him as comfortable as he can before he pulls another sleep vial from his pocket.
Like hell was T waking up at any point in the next three days. Not if he, and the drawer full of this sleeping shit, had anything to say about it.
He takes another deep breath as he works it down T's throat.
He needed an hour to get to Uma, let her know everything was alright, and then an hour to get back. With how much T drank, and now two vials of sleep in his system, he hoped like hell he could get three hours, just to be safe.
Whatz up?
So what did you guys think?
Dark thinks that she made Harry an Asshole in the first scene, personally I loved it. Thoughts?
What did you think about Harry showing T his burnt off scar?
Did it make sense that T hadn't burnt off his own scars yet? Or did that seem out of character?
LoLz. Harry is still scared of Gil, can you blame him?
How did you like drunk T? Did I write it well, or do you have any suggestions how it could've been better?
Poor Harry got popped for trying to help… Were you surprised T decked him?
What did you think about Harry straight up drugging T? Surprised T didn't drug a member of the family first? Honestly I am...
Much love and appreciation
Twisted