#sryr writes

[sryryfm]

Not Enough

Pairing: Chris & Russell (pairings if you squint)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Angst, Mention of Suicide

Summary: Chris could only learn what happened to Russell through rumors. He still didn't have the heart to accept most of them though.

Words: 1.6k

AO3

i.

Chris was used to the rumors about Russell. Hell, he even prided himself on what rumors he heard about himself and the few that coincided with Russell’s. No one ever seems to dislike either of them for it, but rather, he’d grown attached to the idea of being, ‘the bad kid’.

At first, he was worried Russell would mind, but considering he did nothing to deter the statements nor even seemed to care, Chris stopped worrying. The first time he’d asked about it Russell had flat out told him it didn’t bother him and though he at times was hard to read, Chris was willing to take it at face value. However, some of the rumors that started sprouting were… more concerning than simply “fun”.

“Did you hear about that zookeeper who died last week? Who would do something like that?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty messed up… did they ever catch who did it?”

“Not yet… I hope they do soon. We were supposed to have a field trip there at the end of the year, but if people like that hang out there I’d rather not go.”

Russell was skipping class for the day and Chris had been planning to skip with him, but the bit of gossip he overheard while leaving coincided with something he didn’t want to think about.

Didn’t Russell mention going to the zoo the other day?

When asked about it, all he said was that the monkeys were too loud and he went home after, but…

Russell was scary, but not that scary right? It was all a coincidence surely.

ii.

He hadn’t wanted to accept the rumors going around now mainly because they were too painful to imagine. Chris had denied what he’d heard the day before right up until they were seated in the assembly hall. There were plenty of empty seats—which he tried to ignore were mostly from their class—as the principal began explaining why they were there.

The speech had mostly went in one ear and out the other until one phrase stuck.

“…your fellow classmate Gardenia…” he kept trying to deny it, but there was no changing the end of the sentence, there was no changing the phrase, “is no longer with us.”

People from their class had been crying throughout the speech and at that part, Chris couldn’t stop himself from joining them. The principal continued on listing the type of student and person she was, but none of it mattered. He just wanted to get out of there and avoid acknowledging that she was gone.

He was so distracted by his misery that he missed Russell reaching over to hold his hand with his usual blend of social awkwardness. Russell tended to skip more than him and go sometimes in places even he had no idea of so to see him here was shocking.

Normally, he’d be afraid to be so blunt, but there’s something that strikes him as wrong about Russell’s reaction and with how blank and uncaring he appeared, Chris can’t help the anger that filled him.

“Don’t you care at all? You were there weren’t you? At the party? Why do you look bored by all this?”

The questions were hushed because they were still in the auditorium, but there was a twitch from the hand Russell offered in an attempt at comforting him before he withdrew it entirely. Chris knew not everyone handled death in the same way, but rather than seem lost and distraught or even as outwardly upset as Chris was, Russell seemed to give nothing away regarding how he felt; if he felt.

“You’re so cold Russell.”

iii.

It didn’t take long for Chris to make up with Russell mainly because as angry as he felt, it didn’t stop the typical worry that came whenever he caught Russell wincing or wearing bandages. Due to his actions, Russell had been labeled as a delinquent like Chris and his friends, but he knew that even still more often than not, Russell was always on his own.

“I thought you hated me now,” Russell commented at Chris’ offer to skip with him and it was the still ever present blank state of his friend’s face that drove home how distant he was from expressing himself properly.

“No, I…”  he paused trying to be careful with his words, “I’m sorry I said what I did, I just still can’t believe she’s gone. And on her birthday! I… never even got to say anything to her because I chickened out of going.”

“I think I was just jealous that you at least got to see her that last time while I… I can’t even remember the last thing I said to her.”

Russell was quiet at that and the familiar burn that took over before has him seconds from admitting it had been his birthday too. The fact didn’t change anything and it wouldn’t give any solace to his only friend’s suffering.

He’d pushed Gardenia down those stairs and there was nothing he could do to take it back. If he were honest, there was nothing really motivating him to even wish he had taken it back.

“It’s fine.  I’m used to it,” he wasn’t actually. The idea of someone being jealous enough that they were angry at him was new, but he is used to people despising him.

Chris remembered how Russell has it at home and tried to push past how guilty he felt for similarly blowing up on him. Knowing how he was didn’t make Chris feel better about the lack of reaction, but given what he did know, once he’d had time to cool down it made how he did react a little easier to understand.

“It’s not; really… I’m sorry. If you feel up to it, we can go to my place today and play for a bit. I’ll even let you beat me in that game you brought over to make up for it,” he laughed despite the fact Russell usually won anyway. The quiet nod Russell gave in answer is enough to ease the bad atmosphere as they slipped out of the building and towards the bad side of town.

Russell wasn’t sure how to feel or respond when Chris tried to catch up by asking what he’d been up to. Images of a burning church and a medicine shop owner bleeding to death in his own home came to mind, but all he thought to reply with is a calm and collected ‘nothing’.

iv.

“I’m going back early today.”

The comment was enough to warrant shock—with a dash of worry thrown in—as Russell never went home right after school if he could help it. One part of Chris, had hoped that meant things were getting better, but another knew it was wrong.

“Oh? Uh, well, I’ll be at my place or probably in the neighborhood if you change your mind.”

Russell started getting more bruises, but Chris wasn’t sure how to help or really what to say. He’d never been a particularly open person, but bit by bit, his friend had been getting steadily more withdrawn than before. As a way to try asking in a not so serious manner, Chris once jokingly asked if he started going home early because of that police woman that caught them a few times, but Russell’s reaction only made it clear he shouldn’t have asked.

That was the first time he’d ever actually seen him afraid, and Chris hated that there was little to nothing he could do about any of it.

A few weeks after, Russell stopped attending school altogether.

v.

Chris was used to the rumors about Russell. Since his disappearance, they'd become worse and when it was revealed where he was, they got ugly. Nowadays, Chris wasn’t sure what to think.

“Fourteen and on death row, that’s so scary. I knew he always seemed kind of off, but I can’t believe we were in the same class as a murderer.”

“I heard the teachers talking about it; apparently he killed his own parents.”

“I heard he did more than that. He was the one who pushed Gardenia down the stairs.”

Russell was cold and sometimes scary, but he wasn’t like that was he? As much as he didn’t want to think or admit it, Chris could understand why Russell might actually kill his parents. Gardenia though…

Why didn’t Russell say anything?

Why did he not rely on him more?

Why did he have to do something so terrible…

vi.

No one seemed to care as the principal went on about Russell. There was less to say and namely, less nice things to say. He never addressed the rumors that had spread and it had been up to the student body to decide for themselves what was true and what was false.

Chris didn’t want to believe any of it. A part of him, namely couldn’t. It put him penduluming between disbelief over what people had said Russell did and guilt at how if he had tried to reach out more or be more insistent maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way it did. If he had been a better friend, maybe Russell wouldn’t have done all these things.

He wouldn’t be off who knows where awaiting a death sentence.

There was nothing he could do though. What was done, was done and it was what good memories he had of his friend that kept him from believing the rumors.

He wouldn’t ever know about the experiment Russell had gone though. He’d never know that his actions had punished him enough to drive him to his own suicide.

He’d never know that the very same kindness Chris felt now and had wanted to give before it was too late was the same kindness that ultimately destroyed Russell.

#sryr writes #series: end roll #chris (end roll) #russell seager #end roll

[ze-maki-nin]

Did you get the video i sent you?

mhmhmhm im over here lbushing naout it wathcing it oer and over

#sryr im so excited i jsut got writing from wren and im #happy happy happy vguefiws #❀ ، ⟢ dollies #talks with loml

[projectpurple]

hey! i go by many names, but for this particular place i will be using sryr (kinda pronounced like siri, but w/e)

i made the mistake of binging stranger things a couple months ago and can’t seem to stop writing for it. right now i am on a harringrove kick and will be posting these on anon just to have them unattached from my main ao3, but i would like to Talk and interact with the lovely people i’ve seen around so i made this account! also probably ramble about ideas i don’t have energy to write out and reblog fun stuff. (also getting thrown on here is probably some harringsmith stuff because i started watching stranger things purely because of dead by daylight and enjoy that pairing now as well)

all of my writing can be found in this tag! maybe someday i will unanon and it will be less redundant, but for now they’re all right here!

i’m lazy when it comes to making pretty tumblrs so it will take a bit for me to make this look any kind of Nice, but it’s nice to meet anyone who drops by! :)

#posts #im so inept i can't fuckin figure out how to add an about page on my basic theme LMAO #i made a page for it and then just couldnt make a button for it and gave up #anyhoo hello! #gonna.... start the process of posting fics now LMAO

[sryryfm]

Stained

Pairing: Julius Kresnik/Ludger Kresnik

Warnings: TOX 2 Bad Ending, Angst, Unhealthy Relationship, Incest

Summary: Julius never wanted any of this on Ludger's hands.

Words: 398

AO3

“This can’t be the prime dimension anymore, you know that right?”

“…Neither of us can take this back and you know by now what happens when you try to just jump to a different dimension other than your own.”

“Ludger, please say something; I know you don’t want to, but this... it’s too much.”

All the words he wants to say to his brother are on the tip of his tongue, but there’s too much that’s leaving him numb. He already knows there’s blood on his hands he can’t remove. He knows the bodies behind them and the guards are on their way are because of what he did. Yet, his brother is alive.

Julius is alive and breathing and he can’t let go of that or him, as it’s his heartbeat alone keeping him steady.

“You can’t stop what’s been spreading for years, surely even you know that.”

Julius’ voice is soft, sympathetic and laced with a misery he doesn’t want to acknowledge as he pets his brother’s hair. It means so much to know that he’s this important to Ludger, but everything he did was a wasted effort and a burden he never should have had to bear.

If he had been just a little bit stronger, none of this would have been put on Ludger at all, but it was too late to think that now, wasn’t it?

Ludger continues his silence, but he breaks his trance long enough to realize they had to move. It wasn’t clear where or how, but they had to leave or else they’d both die here. Julius is willing to die so Ludger can get away as he was supposed in the first place. The thought is just as needless though as the resolve his brother showed in doing what he thought he had to in order to save Julius only makes his feelings even muter when it came to killing innocent bystanders.

Swallowing the lump to kill his friends to protect Julius gave him a willpower that would kill the both of them.

He knew that.

Julius knew it too.

There was never a happy ending for either of them like this. Yet, even if it was more painful, more detrimental to whatever version of himself out there strong enough to take his brother’s life, he wanted his last moments to be with Julius more than anyone else.

#sryr writes #series: tales of xillia #pairing: kresnikcest #kresnikcest #Ludger Will Kresnik #Julius Kresnik

[sryryfm]

Clouded in Dragon Smoke

Pairing: None

Warnings: Major Character Death, Stabbing, Angst

Summary: Kantera airs some truths that perhaps were best left forgotten.

Words: 1.2k

AO3

Russell never meant to make the medicine shop in the back alley his hideout after succumbing to one of his urges, but somehow he ended up finding his way there anyway. There was something soothing about the various scents of herbs and the calm way the owner spoke to him.

The medicine shop had just been ready to close. Russell had known that, but Kantera had told him before that his loitering didn’t bother him.

It was one of those nights and despite the late hour; Kantera had long since learned it pointless to ask about Russell’s family and instead merely led the way for him to sit at the table while he finished closing shop. Even with the cloying scent of the shop’s herbs the scent of smoke from the fire he’d started permeated the air. The box of matches sat heavy in his back pocket, but the smells around him helped calm his left over adrenaline.

The shop blurred around him as he waited, but no sense of guilt ever came. Instead, Russell simply felt nothing.

Mere minutes or maybe even hours could have passed, but it didn’t matter to Russell. Kantera returned to the table with a kettle of tea and poured him a cup, and it was only out of numb habit that Russell took it. As to what it tasted like, he couldn’t tell.

While Kantera was familiar with Russell, his presence becoming another aspect of his shop, he wasn’t quite sure what drew the other here. At first, he thought he’d been a runaway as the bruises and winces he tried to hide could tell many kinds of stories. That theory had been debunked when Russell thanked him for the tea and sweets before explaining he needed to head home before his parents got angry.

The sentence stood out namely because it gave one potential for the bruises, and it was one in particular Kantera didn’t like.

There was an urge to ask more about it, but his patience convinced him to simply wait until Russell himself wanted to explain. It was better to send the boy off with ointment for his injuries and a telling smile that would hopefully put the other at ease about returning. The same sort of patience flooded in now as there was no telling what exactly was bothering Russell, but he’d seen him like this before.

They fell into an easy pattern where Kantera would provide what he could until Russell decided to either say something or take off. If he didn’t speak soon, the medicine shop owner simply planned to detail another story from his childhood in Japan. Those seemed to always be enough to distract him from whatever issue was plaguing him.

It was surprising that this time Russell chose to speak on his own though.

“Have you ever killed something before?” He asked, voice soft, but blunt and to the point. The question takes Kantera by surprise and admittedly there are aspects to it that make him queasy to dwell on based on what it could mean for Russell—yet, he also can’t stop the thoughts about his grandfather flooding in.

“Why, yes I have,” he carefully goes around what he knows Russell is actually asking to see if he’ll clarify on his own, “it was quite common in the village back home to catch fish for grilling and the like. I believe one of my aunts also had a poultry farm, but I’m afraid I can’t quite remember.”

Russell’s lips pursed, but he simply took another sip of tea. A few moments later, he piped up once more.

“I meant… have you ever killed another human being?” Russell asked again, voice dropping to a whisper, but still empty of any sort of hesitancy.

Kantera paused himself mid sip when the question came, but also because he could tell that somehow Russell may have already known the answer and that was what drove him to ask it in the first place. Would being honest grant the boy solace? Or did he just want to feel less alone? Either way, Kantera took the question and used it if only to let his own guilt air.

“I’m afraid I have.”

There’s a beat of silence after he admitted it that Kantera worried meant he had read Russell and the situation completely wrong. Another spike of guilt entered him upon hearing his answer.

“Me too.”

They drink their tea and Kantera isn’t sure if that’s the end of the conversation. Like before he gave Russell a few more minutes, but when he gave no more details, he took it upon himself to give more information in the hopes it’d serve some kind of use or reassurance. He didn’t know enough to be sure what Russell felt about his deeds, but Kantera knew what it felt like to kill someone and knew that even if it wasn’t immediate, the guilt would come and it would be merciless.

Even now, he can’t help but feel the shiver of his grandfather’s portrait despite it being two rooms adjacent this one.

“My grandfather was very ill towards the end of his life. We did all we could to ease the pain and the… particular issues brain deterioration left him with, but there are some things even medicine cannot cure or fix.”

“It reached a point where he didn’t even want to take any medication so we began disguising it in the manjuu he so loved.”

Kantera told himself he paused to take a sip of tea and see how Russell was doing, but really he knew it was for himself. All the words that came out of his mouth since the beginning had been for himself only under the guise of it being helpful to Russell in one way or another. It wasn’t necessarily accurate to say that was the only reason he was telling him this. He did want to help the boy feel better, but his guilty conscious couldn’t exactly ignore the fact that he’d always wanted to tell someone the truth about what he’d done too.

“I thought… rather, it reached a point where he seemed to be suffering more than enjoying life like this. The idea of putting poison in the manjuu instead of his usual medicine seemed… poetic. Doesn’t that sound like a more pleasant way to go compared to some other methods?” Kantera held an empty smile as he extended the conversation over to Russell. A thinly veiled attempt to bring the other into the conversation so he too could air his dirty laundry.

“It does,” Russell offered as he thought back on all the ways he’d killed people thus far. None of them in comparison sound that nice. He can’t be sure what it feels like to be burnt alive, but he hadn’t stayed long enough to hear their screams either.

“I do hope this doesn’t change the way you view me. Sometimes, I regret my actions if only because it’s haunted me all this time, but other times… I wonder if he’s at peace now.”

Russell wasn’t sure what to say because he couldn’t really relate to such things. He lived a life solely motivated by envy with no room for things like regret or guilt. The dead were dead and even if he was the one who killed them, there’s nothing he can do about that or his current position in life.

No matter what he does or who he kills, nothing changes.

Weeks later, after many of his deeds had been shared to Kantera with that ever patient smile; Russell continued to feel nothing as he forced the kitchen knife through Kantera’s chest.

#sryr writes #series: end roll #kantera #ryuuzen #russell seager #end roll

[sryryfm]

Fragile

Pairing: Russell Seager/The Informant

Warnings: Underage, Incest, Asphyxiation, Ideations of Murder, Mild Gore, Thought Gore, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Frotting

Summary: Sometimes Russell can't stand how right his brother is.

Words: 811

Pt 1. / AO3

Humans are so fragile.

Russell can’t count the number of times he’d wondered if he’d be killed when their father got too violent or how easy it’d be to murder another person. In video games, he did so effortlessly, but humans looked just as weak in real life too.

He can’t really help his feelings. They’ve always been out of his control and something he’s never quite been able to understand. His brother seems to read him and translate what is bothering him so easily, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t comprehend it nor can he quite make any of it go away.

Over and over, the second he tries to breach the world outside himself, a fear and deep envy overflows to the point where he can’t see anything but red. His brother handles it better than most; he’s always known him best, but it doesn’t stop the urges and it doesn’t stop the images that haunt him of bodies pushed off tall heights or of heads bashed in. It scares him sometimes, but other times he just doesn’t even think.

Like now, he can’t even remember what it is his brother’s said, all he knows is there’s a brief flair of anger, but the reaction’s all wrong. They’re on the same couch they seem to always be on with these trysts and all he knows is he’s frustrated. His brother is wearing that coquettish, knowing smile and his body is all but grinding up towards his even with Russell’s hands tightly gripping the collar of his shirt.

“Relax. I didn’t do anything to him. I didn’t do anything to any of your precious outsiders.”

Russell’s grip grows just a bit laxer, but his brother is still rubbing against his knee far more excited about their position than he likely should be. This sort of reaction, he’d grown used to even if it was something he still was unsure how to respond to.

“Y’know, for a minute you had me thinking you were even ready to kill me. In the end, you couldn’t though could you?”

His hand moves to wrap his fingers around his brother’s throat, but there’s no pressure behind the grip.

“It feels nice to have all of your attention on me.”

Just slightly he tightens his hold trying not to feel sickened at the way he can feel his brother twitch from the action.

“I want a-all of you Russell. Even this you is f-fine.”

Whether it’s from Russell’s tightening grip or from the slight stutters from pleasure, his brother’s words are forming less confident and assertive than usual. If anything, the notion behind his words is even comforting.

Humans are so fragile. With just the slightest grip, an accidental slice, the tiniest of missteps…

a life can be taken so quickly. Useless and disgusting people should just die if they can’t get out of my sight.

“R-Russell, p…please, ah.”

He hates the way his own body reacts to his brother. When it comes to things like this they both were used to seeing their mother, but somehow rather than be disgusted, his brother fell into a similar trap. It was disgusting, but he couldn’t help indulging him either. Russell had never been good at saying no, especially when it came to his brother.

The fingers around his brother’s throat loosen just slightly and Russell tries to ignore the moan that comes with the desperate gasps for air.

When it came down to it, he couldn’t kill his brother. The other depended on him more than Russell did him, but they had a kinship he couldn’t let go of no matter how disgusted or irritated or jealous he felt.

What’s worse is he knows it, he knows it and states it often enough to drive Russell up a wall, because he’s right. He’s always right.

“You need me so I can understand what you can’t.”

“You’ll always need me.”

“But it’s okay, because I need you too.”

Russell doesn’t know what he wants. He can’t bring himself to kill his brother and after listening to him, he can’t bring himself to kill anyone else as much as he wants to. He doesn’t know why he sits up to help him finish or why he agrees to let his brother touch him too.

It’s a strange intimacy he still doesn’t get. Each time he gets more and more comfortable with it, and bit by bit he isn’t sure whether to be more disgusted or irritated at him or himself.

“Even if you do come to kill me one day… it’ll be fine.”

“Because I know it won’t be much longer before you die with me.”

The words should seem mocking based on the context and his brother’s expression, but the hands now encircled around his neck instead feel instead like a demented promise.

#sryr writes #series: end roll #pairing: inforuss #inforuss #informantrussell

[sryryfm]

We’re All We Have

Pairing: Russell Seager/The Informant

Warnings: Underage, Child Abuse, Alcoholism Mention, Incest, Unhealthy Coping, Unhealthy Codependency, Allusions to sex, Allusions to pedophilia

Summary: Russell grows jealous of his brother, not realizing it's actually the other way around.

Words: 1.1k

AO3 / Pt 2.

Russell wishes he could be more like his brother.

It wasn’t like he was the favorite between them necessarily. As far as their parents went, it was clear neither of them had wanted either of them. It was fine though. Neither of them were fond of their parents either, but having each other made it a bit easier. He had aspects to him that made him more social and frequent to make the connections Russell himself wished to, but at the same time he never gave any of them a particular special kind of treatment.

Russell never knew how he found out the things he did, but he always shared those facts with him a bright smile on his face as he did so; as if the information alone was enough to cure any ill intent he carried. He was a know-it-all and read people in a way that was almost frightening.

It almost made Russell jealous of him too, being able to connect to people and feel a happiness Russell himself had never understood, but his brother was the only person in this world he had. Except that wasn’t entirely true either, it just felt like it most of the time.

Though Russell was not one to start conversations on his own, there were many acquaintances he gathered and namely at least one person he felt he could call a friend. On the few days his brother was out and doing his own thing, there was a boy named Chris he sometimes spent time with. Sometimes even on days when his brother went home alone, he chose to go to such a seedy and dangerous part of town if only to feel less alone.

Without realizing it, his ever seemingly happy brother grew to be a distorted jealous figure as well. Russell arrived home early enough that their parents were still out and like always his brother was there playing a game on the couch. He greets him the same as always, but there is a slight difference. For once, his brother’s smile seemed more forced than usual, and there was no immediate offer for him to join in the game.

It’s obvious and being who he is, before Russell can even ask, his brother is already answering his question. There’s no familiar glee in his voice at reading and predicting a question before someone could ask it, instead there’s a cold tone that Russell isn’t used to having directed at him.

“I learn the things I do because it makes me feel smart. It makes me feel safe to have all this knowledge about the people around me. Those siblings at the church, that girl your friend has a crush on, that friendly zookeeper, that kind police officer who brings us home at night, that nurse that gives us compresses for our bruises—even that doctor who lives in the bad parts of town you keep wandering in.”

“I could go on, all those people and more I learn about. I find out all I can about their secrets and it doesn’t bother me if they never think anything of me.”

“Even you; we were born in this place together and so it’s only natural I would know the most about you. Things you lie about, the things you pretend aren’t true, and places you think I don’t know you go. You give me details and think you’re hiding the other stuff you think.”

“But even still… there are things I don’t know about you.”

There’s a sharp tug of fear as his brother pushes him on the couch they both hate, because he’s scared of the way he’s talking. Is he angry too? Was he wrong about how happy he seemed? Nothing he says makes any sense, but still his brother draws closer and closer until his bangs are just barely touching Russell’s face. There’s a brief moment of fear when he’s trying to place where his hands are, but they’re by his waist.

“You’re jealous of everyone. You’re angry at what they have that we don’t. But lately, you’re even jealous of me too aren’t you?”

“Do you hate me too Russell?”

“I thought we’d play together today, so you can tell me just how you really feel.”

“Do you want to kill me like you want to kill everyone else Russell?”

The questions keep coming as he draws closer, but there’s no real malice at all still. Russell remembers reading once that green was supposed to be the color of jealousy and always thought it odd that his brother seemingly empty of such a feeling was the one who carried green eyes. It was the only physical difference between them aside from his brother’s insistence to have a different colored dress shirt.

“No,” he eventually finds himself whispering, still afraid of what his brother might do.

“I’m jealous too Russell. I’m jealous of all these people you say you don’t care for that still are nestled in your heart. I hate the thought of becoming less important than them. I keep telling myself you’ll never let go of your disdain and jealousy, but if even I become a center of such feelings will you just wish to kill me also?”

“You’re the only good thing in this miserable world.”

He feels his brother clutch at his vest and rest his forehead on his.

“I don’t want to share you with anyone else. It’s bad enough those men look at you when we’re out at night.”

Russell still can’t really understand. His brother isn’t angry, but he’s jealous. Yet… he doesn’t want to kill him. If anything he just wants to possess him. If he’s not jealous of him, then he’s jealous of others?

“I don’t care if it’s filthy. The rest of this world is disgusting as is. If it’s what I have to do to find any sort of small happiness in this life, then I don’t care. Wouldn’t you say that’s only fair Russell? In the end, we only have each other.”

He still doesn’t really understand. His brother doesn’t want to kill him, but he also sees flickers of what those disgusting men do to his mother. Their mother.

But isn’t this different in its own way? He knows at the very least whatever it is motivating his brother isn’t the base lust other humans have. He isn’t like the men who sleep with their mother or the strangers who offer them candy. There should be a fear in how close he is and what he’s saying; the implications of what it means for them to do something like this and what it means to agree to being completely his.

The recognition becomes clear as he watches his brother read what few expressions he musters. Gently, he presses their lips together and though the action inherently wasn’t sexual, there’s a sentiment behind his brother’s action that isn’t entirely innocent either.

“They leave us alone all the time anyway. They won’t have to know.”

“It’s our own special secret Russell.”

“So c’mon, let’s play.”

#sryr writes #series: end roll #pairing: inforuss #informantrussell #inforuss

[sryryfm]

Clichés

Pairing: Alvin Vint Svent/Jude Mathis

Warnings: Underage, Teacher-Student Relationship, Age Difference, Powerplay, Glasses kink, Facials, Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, PWP

Words: 1k

Summary: It seemed like a good idea at the time, or at least that's what Mr. Svent would insist later.

AO3 / Pt 1

The space under Mr. Svent’s desk was cramped even for a relatively small person like Jude. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, but when said teacher had mentioned he wanted to do something cliché just for the sake of doing it, it was hard for Jude to refuse given how it had been his tentative question regarding what the other wanted to do today that spawned things.

He couldn’t deny that he wasn’t even particularly opposed. The scenario proposed was demeaning and a little nerve wracking as they were still at school and if Mr. Svent moved his legs at all there was a slim chance Jude could be seen. No one ever seemed to come in during moments like these, but the possibility nonetheless existed.

The only time they came close to being caught was during a heated and frankly distracting make out session where Jude only just barely pulled off the teacher’s lap in time for the knocking on the classroom door to turn to twists of a doorknob. The looks they received by the student who came in spoke enough volumes, but it never seemed to become a problem and after a bit of time avoiding one another, their routine resumed.

For as embarrassing as times with Mr. Svent had a habit of ending up, there came a certain thrill in just how powerful they made Jude feel. Even squished under a desk discreetly making the older male come undone with his mouth alone was indescribably satisfying. Mr. Svent had a way of making him feel good both physically and emotionally that he knew was unhealthy, but addicting. He came to crave the man’s praise constantly.

In lieu of verbal praise, Jude had to suffice for whatever noises he was able to drag out of his teacher feeling an inordinate amount of pride for each one to grace his ears. Part of the cliché—Mr. Svent had insisted—lay in the fact Jude should not be where he is and thus the teacher needed to play his part and stay silent as well.

Upon Jude’s quip that realistically it was like that every time they did things like this Alvin ended the topic exasperatedly claiming that Jude missed the point entirely.

For as quiet as his teacher was trying to be, from the muffled moans, curses and shudders in the man’s thighs, Jude was quite aware of the effect he was having on the other. Sure enough, Mr. Svent gave in and slipped a hand down to stroke the boy’s head as he worked. Jude wanted to muse about how the other was going back on his own ground rules, but the circumstances had him a little busy. The subtle canting of Mr. Svent’s hips suggested he was close and with the break in their rules, Jude took it as a sign he could make noise of his own. He began to hum more than pleased at the reaction it garnered.

“Fu—Jude…” Mr. Svent groaned too gone to realize he stopped making himself stay hushed. The noise only invoked a moan from the boy, amplifying the sensation around his teacher’s cock. The fingers in his hair tightened causing the student to moan louder feeling the man’s length twitch in response.

Jude knew he was close. Having steadily gotten better at this, signs like that became obvious to him. Any notion that they were supposed to stay hidden was thrown to the wind. Even Jude was too far into it to bother pointing this fact out as Mr. Svent rolled his chair out slightly, taking over pleasing himself for the boy.

“You’re your most beautiful when you’re being obscene like this, you know that?” He muttered to the student still under his desk, both of them panting from their activities. Jude had kept his mouth open, unsure of what or where the other was going with his words. They had started things with the aim to stay discreet, but with what he suspected his teacher wanted to do that would surely look incriminating if he wasn’t cleaned up fast enough.

“I love the way you look when your mouth’s open like that…”

His jaw ached, but he hoped with the urgency Mr. Svent stroked himself with, that meant he’d be done soon. Jude’s own erection was growing uncomfortable and his teacher’s actions were not helping.

The way he almost hissed his name as he came, with the cum now dripping down the student’s face had him torn from nearly coming himself and begrudgingly complaining at the state his glasses and face were now in. His teacher was merciful enough to not leave him with the mess, lazily swiping a few of the ever present napkins on his desk to start wiping the boy’s face.

“You always look so irritated after I give you a facial,” He chuckled and for as annoying and messy it could be, there was an impulse to nuzzle into the man’s hand as he cleaned his face. As he finished what he could do with napkins alone, Jude allowed himself to crawl out and attempt to stand. His legs felt a bit wobbly from crouching so long, but with Mr. Svent’s proximity, it was unlikely he’d fall.

“Because it’s a pain to clean…” Jude explained, his voice a little hoarse from the prior treatment and the focus he could now put on his arousal.

“Aren’t I always the one to clean you up though?” The man’s voice dropped suggestive as he glanced at Jude’s waist. The student peered at the door mentally taking a gamble as he had planned to take care of it privately but…

“I don’t know if it counts if you’re always the one making a mess,” he countered letting his fingers rest on the other’s shoulders for balance fighting himself on what he should do.

“I think it’s fair,” Mr. Svent started, hands steadily moving to the other’s belt, “You don’t even know how much of a mess you make of me, do you?”

#sryr writes #series: tales of xillia #pairing: aruju #aruju #alvin vint svent #alfred vint svent #alvin svent #jude mathis

[sryryfm]

Killing Us Slowly

Pairing: Julius Will Kresnik/Ludger Will Kresnik

Warnings: Incest, Unhealthy Codependency, Praise Kink, Exhibitionism Kink, Voice Kink, Phone Sex, Angst, Canon Divergence

Summary: The fact his brother was apparently keeping tabs on him to this extent should worry him. Or maybe the fact he wasn't bothered at all was more worrying.

Words: 1.8k

AO3

He can’t help blinking at the supposed name his GHS lists as currently calling him. Given how heavily he’s being tracked—well, the both of them really—it seems strange and almost too risky; but even though Jude looks at him inquisitively, Ludger is already making a vague gesture that he’ll be answering it outside.

“You’re alone now I presume?” Julius’ voice came smooth over the receiver and before responding it takes Ludger a second to realize that he wouldn’t see the nod over the phone. It seems like weeks since he last heard his brother’s voice.

“Good. We still can’t talk long, like this, but I’ll call you again; likely if I’m not busy myself when you reach the next inn.”

The fact it’s cryptic isn’t surprising and while he is sick of having everything questionable his brother’s been doing unravel in front of him, being the person he is, he finds himself quietly acquiescing like he always does. At first, Julius asks a series of yes or no questions that seem normal. Ludger’s supposed to be looking for him, yet by the time they reach the end it becomes clear the call was just a means to check on him.

He’d barely spoken or asked the things he wanted to ask, but with the way he had said they would talk like this again, Ludger wonders if he can next time. Julius has always been secretive, but he was worried too; the fact he hadn’t got ask the same kinds of questions back or better yet what was going on was disheartening to say the least.

“Take care of yourself Ludger.”

The call ends and he forces himself to close his GHS before taking a moment turn it off altogether. It was so short and seemingly pointless, but at the same time, the clandestine message underneath his brother’s words was something he was happy to hear. Julius didn’t say it, but there was just a high likelihood he called to hear Ludger’s voice as well as establish in a maybe dubious way that he knew where he was. He remembers hearing people around Trigelph and the few times he’d dropped by the Spirius Corporation building say things like he developed the GHS and that’s why he’s so familiar with its functions. Considering his brother was the one who gave him it to begin with, he wouldn’t doubt he could track it far easier than anyone at Spirius.

The thought has him stop momentarily as he walks back though as he had also heard that they were having trouble tracking Julius down because of that very same fact. Was calling him a risk in that case? Ludger wasn’t too versed on how things like this worked, but it just made his sentiments stronger if it were true.

When he closes the inn door behind him Jude turns and asks him who called. The doctor’s been kind to him thus far and seemed trustworthy, but there was an element to his relationship to Julius and the call itself that he wanted to keep to himself. He settles himself into bed finally facing him and answering with a quiet voice.

“Wrong number.”

                                     -

He calls again when they arrive back in Aladi Seahaven. They had come back to get Elize and Rowen and he feels a little better about not having to lie to anyone about the call this time. Jude had needed to take care of some things at the lab and Alvin seemed distracted by his own business so they opted to stay behind for the time being. Once he got the call about a fractured dimension, he would call for them, but for now, all he really was doing was trying to deal with his debt.

Well, he would be tomorrow. It was already late when they arrived back and Elle and Elize were asleep. Rowen had mentioned visiting the bar downstairs as he had a few acquaintances in the area and Leia had tagged along to try and get an interview regarding politics. This left Ludger in a comfortable position to answer without worry on who would overhear or potentially ask him questions he both didn’t know the answer to and wouldn’t want to answer.

By this point, he can’t be sure what Julius knows or doesn’t know. It’s likely he knows about Ludger being made to give the disk back as it had been Spirius agents fighting him, but does he know how he’s technically an agent now too?

It leaves him a little uneasy, but in a way if he’s calling he’s glad to see Julius is okay. Something in the back of his mind says he should take these moments of contact with more caution or maybe consider telling someone else, but he can’t bring himself to. No one would understand the true nature of them to begin with.

“Ludger? It seems I caught you at a good time.”

His voice sounds strained and it makes Ludger wonder how injured he really was as the agents made it sound like they just barely were able to obtain the disk. That had been hours ago though hadn’t it?

“I’m truly sorry for all this I never wanted you to know…”

He isn’t sure what Julius is referring to. There are a lot of things he’d learned in the past few hours, but there is so much—far too much—he still doesn’t know. Asking would be pointless as it always is and if his brother hadn’t wanted to share this much than what good would it do to ask further.

“I never wanted to put you in danger. Can you understand and trust that?”

There’s a desperation in Julius’ voice that has Ludger replying instantly, a same urgency filling his rare moments of speech.

“Of course,” he tries to reassure and allows himself to ask at least one worry that had been on his mind. “Are you safe though?”

The laugher that answers him is surprising, but refreshing. It’s enough to bring a smile to his face even though he shouldn’t be having this conversation let alone be happy about it.

“You always were a worrywart huh? Everything will be all right,” He responds but there’s a lingering hesitancy to say more. Obviously, it doesn’t quite answer Ludger’s question and there’s plenty that Julius has neglected to share in general, but for now it’s enough. It’s enough to talk to him beyond the brief conversation they shared a week or so ago.

“Should we… not be doing this?” Ludger wonders out loud deciding to voice his earlier concern about people using this to find Julius.

It comes out far too similar to a different concern he once gave towards other things they used to do and it takes even Julius a moment to figure out what he means.

“It should be safe right now. They won’t get me just yet, I promise.”

The separate question of what Julius really did versus what people say he did is on the tip of his tongue as is every other confusing matter, but he bites it back.

“I miss you,” is all he breathes, quiet and scared. He doesn’t regret meeting all these new people he’d like to call friends, but he can’t deny he wishes he could just go back to the days when it was just him and Julius.

It doesn’t even bother him that there’s a perhaps unhealthy codependency he has on his brother; it should and given how careful they’ve had to be before this he should feel ashamed, but Julius has never made him feel anything but safe.

“I miss you too Ludger. I haven’t had one of your tomato omelettes in a long time.”

This is sick. He’s sick, but he can’t help the quiet labored breaths he gives as he strokes himself while his brother talks of simple things. Cooking for him, when they’d watch things together, the few times they went out together.

“Are your sides still as sensitive as they used to be? You’d always squeal when I tickled you, but you made a similar noise when I’d bite your neck too,” Julius’ voice lowers, as he’d been aware from the beginning of Ludger’s movements. He’d long since trained his ears to listen for the slightest changes in his breathing or tone given how little he actually preferred to talk.

A slight shift crackles across the receiver as Ludger presses the GHS against his shoulder and chin bringing another hand to cover his mouth, but the groan caused from Julius’ words slips through anyway.

“I wish I could touch you, but I’d settle for just being able to see you. You always loved giving me a show, didn’t you?”

His noises though muffled now, still manage to be heard, and he’s trying to slow down, but he wants exactly what Julius is saying.

“You’re such a good boy, always eager to please and listen. I want to reward you for it, open you up and make you come again and again.”

Julius had done it before. He could imagine it so clearly despite it feeling like it’d been years since the last time they were together and alone.

“How badly do you want to come for me Ludger?” Julius’ voice also sounds a bit strange and the change makes Ludger wonder if he’s doing the same thing. The thought only made heat pool further and without hesitating Ludger let him know. Repeated over and over, pushed to not only speak, but be louder.

They shouldn’t be doing this. They especially shouldn’t be doing this, but it doesn’t take long for his responses to move into begging and Ludger isn’t sure whether it was just his voice or the sound of him begging Julius seemed to like more; he never had the strength to ask him.

“Come for me Ludger, I want to hear you,” his brother panted over the line and it was clear he was close too.  At his urging it didn’t take long for him to finish and there’s a silent pleasure to be found in hearing Julius follow quickly after. It only invokes a painful longing however as the reality hits him that all he can do is hear, not see or even touch him. That it was unclear when or if they’d ever get to do something like that again.

Nothing but Julius’ breathing comes over the receiver and it’s taking Ludger all he has not to cry.

“I love you, Ludger. Stay safe, I’ll… try to call again,” Julius finally brings himself to say, but hangs up before he can reply. Almost mechanically, he forces himself to sit up more properly and clean up the mess before Rowen turns in for the night.

His dreams are full of Julius, but all he can remember is the one that started this all; his blood staining his brother’s clothes as he lets the other kill him and he wonders if what they have is killing him slowly.

#sryr writes #series: tales of xillia #pairing: kresnikcest #kresnikcest #ludger will kresnik #julius kresnik

[sryryfm]

Textbook Happy Endings

Pairing: Alvin Vint Svent/Jude Mathis

Warnings: N/A, this one is pure fluff and domestic nonsense. 

Summary: Was offering to adopt someone a strange birthday present? Were they moving too fast? No one could say, but if everyone was happy, did it even matter? (originally written for Aruju week 2016)

Words: 2.2k

AO3

“When were we supposed to meet up with Leia again?” Jude asked turning his head slightly so Alvin could hear better, though not moving away from the stove.

“Next week, maybe? I’ll check,” the former mercenary called back as the fact he was closer to the calendar was likely why Jude even asked. The reporter had scheduled a so called top secret meeting to put together the ‘Most Perfect, Totally Awesome Super Secret Birthday Party’ for Elize who was to be turning fourteen in just a couple weeks.

It had been a bit difficult to discern a proper date given how murky the girl’s past was, but with help from Rowen and Gaius what few documents remained of her childhood were able to be found hidden among Auj Oule’s secret projects.

It wasn’t really something anyone, Elize especially, liked to think about, but the fact she hadn’t been given a proper birthday party since just the year prior was something all of them agreed simply wouldn’t fly. Leia was especially adamant about it as with the tradition Leronde had she was always working with her father to plan parties for various people around town.

Personally, Jude had no opinion when it came to his own birthday and neither did Alvin as he struggled to even remember his own, but with how close they’d grown to Elize the three of them were determined to make it one of the best days in her life thus far.  

As Alvin looked over the calendar though, another date stood out and it actually made him sheepish if not apologetic for forgetting about it. Circled around the date and glossed by the side was Jude’s cute handwriting stating that today was their apparent anniversary. Honestly, that date too was murky as the exact timing of their supposed relationship was unclear in of itself. Since Jude was the one who circled it, that must be the date he considered them a couple, but it was difficult on Alvin’s part as there were aspects to it that he was hesitant to call real compared to maybe how Jude saw it. It brought a frown to his face just thinking of it, but he already vowed and swore to Jude he wasn’t like that anymore; that he wouldn’t ever lie to him if he could help it.

Drawing it out of his mind not to ruin the morning, he quickly scanned the rest of the week confirming the exact day and time written down for when Leia told them to meet her. After taking an extra second to finish adjusting his scarf, he moved back out to join Jude in the kitchen and embraced him from behind, twisting just enough to kiss his cheek without necessarily getting in the way.

“Has it really been a year?” Alvin murmured watching Jude stir the soup in the pot in front of them. If it was true, it certainly made him happy that he managed to keep him around that long, but at the same time, it did make various insecurities surface.

A soft smile spread on the doctor’s face though it still remained facing away from Alvin, “It has; time sure flies doesn’t it?”

They had been through a lot in the past year and even before that, much of which, admittedly Jude wasn’t fond of thinking about either, but he hadn’t regretted his decision to start dating Alvin. They had only started living together the past few months, but it’s only helped more than damaged their relationship.

He brought a free hand he wasn’t using to cook with up to hold the arm around him as he knew even if it wasn’t evident in Alvin’s voice, he had a faint idea of what it was the other likely was thinking of. One of the things that had surprised him had been just how false Alvin’s confidence was compared to how he first introduced himself. Truthfully, it had been that along with how safe the man made him feel that first attracted Jude to him, but even learning of what problems Alvin had it hadn’t stopped him from loving the other. If anything, it just made him feel determined to help.

“You’re telling me, soon enough I won’t have to learn down as far to kiss you,” he teased giving Jude another kiss before heading towards the cupboards to begin setting the table.

“And I’ll have to be assuring you that your grey hairs look very handsome, right?” Jude joked right back, as he knew how sensitive Alvin was about appearances. Jude himself was at times sensitive about his height given how he wasn’t fond of how delicate he appeared, so it was only fair he give a similar gibe right back.

“You’re getting meaner and meaner, I guess I’m rubbing off on you, huh?” Alvin countered though he wondered if it was necessarily a good thing. There wasn’t really anything inherently bad about what he replied with given how he only reassured that he would still love him in the years to come. The idea of Jude still willing to be with him for anything longer than just one year was nice if not a little frightening to worry about minding that proved not to end up true. He may be vain, but it was more his personality that he feared Jude would one day come to detest even though he’d done some terrible things already that had been forgiven.

“I hope I didn’t come off as too mean,” he scratched his cheek at that though Alvin didn’t seem that bothered by it. As he began to serve the soup into the bowls Alvin brought over, the other couldn’t help laughing at such a statement.

“Nah, you’ve grown a bigger backbone for sure, but I don’t think it’s physically possible for you to be anything but a do-gooder.”

Jude wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not by a statement like that, though he wasn’t particularly eager to be mean to anyone. With a person like Alvin he’d just grown to be more affectionately teasing similar to how he reacted with Leia. Thinking of his old childhood friend only returned him to the subject that started it all though.

“Oh, right so what day were we supposed to see Leia? I know Elize’s birthday is in a couple weeks, but if we’re late or can’t make it she’ll probably kill me,” Jude sighed as he finished putting the ladle back in the pot for now moving with Alvin to sit at their kitchen table.

“It’s two days from now around noon. Taking time off for it won’t be hard for me, and I’d better hope you can make it. I can bully Balan into letting you off for a few hours if he gives you trouble though so don’t worry.”

“I’m not really worried about that and while I don’t really like having to take time off I do want Elize to have a good birthday…”

“You already think of something to get the princess by the way? Every time I ask her what she wants Teepo yells at me to make it a surprise or get more creative,” Alvin groaned just thinking about it as there were a few things he could think of she might like, but for as much as he teased her he too wanted her to have a good birthday.

Jude took a moment to have some of the soup while thinking. These days they didn’t get to meet up often, but with the interest in academics she now had upon getting to go to school he picked up a nice collection of fairy tales she might like. They weren’t necessarily for young children, but as a kid he remembered enjoying some of them and there were a few Elympion ones that were recently translated and added to it.

All in all it was a very… Jude gift, but he hoped she’d like it nonetheless.

“Of course you’d get a book, but then again from what I hear she’s turning out to be quite the honors student too.”

The conversation lulled briefly as they took the chance to actually eat while thinking. Though, taking the time to notice the food made an idea come mind from a conversation Jude overheard them having quite a while back.

“Right, wasn’t there some meal you guys mentioned once? I only heard a snippet of the conversation though something about a pink sushi bowl?”

It did ring a few bells and after a moment the conversation came back to mind.

“Oh, right that. Hmm, maybe I could try making it as part of her dinner though aren’t you and Leia planning to arrange one of those roast chickens for her out of tradition or something? Plus, she started adding some weird stuff to mix.”

“Oh yeah… hmm well we can look when we’re done helping Leia then, how’s that sound?”

“You’d think she’d be easier to shop for, but nope. Who knew little girls were this difficult to figure out…”

Jude laughed a little at that bringing a hand to cover his resulting smile as he did so. It was only evident from how hard Alvin was trying how important Elize was to him and it was rather cute.  They had a habit of bickering more lately, but it was clear the girl found him just as important. If she wasn’t so far away and going to school, he’d actually consider asking Alvin about taking her in, but given the circumstances and his own insecurities about being anything resembling a parent the topic was hard to bring up.

“Say, do you think it’d be strange to ask if she’d live want to live with us someday?” Alvin asked his voice oddly hesitant if not outright nervous. It wasn’t a surprise he’d been thinking something similar with the subject at hand, but it was a little startling that he’d also sincerely thought of it as a possibility.

Jude’s fingers rubbed around the edge of the cup of tea he’d made for himself with their meal as he wanted to voice what thoughts he had on the matter, but at the same time the image of them having a little family was one he couldn’t deny he thought about sometimes.

Their whole friend circle in some ways felt like its own sort of family, but in particular, it was one of those steps a relationship sometimes took. Jude was still rather young and focused on his research, but even when he had been struggling to figure out his life a year or so ago he hadn’t regretted for a moment taking Elize into their little party. Imagining her sitting at the table with them or helping her with homework sounded nice.

“I’m a little nervous about how good of a parent I’d be, but I… have thought of it before.”

“Me too.”

They grew silent again as it was a difficult thing to consider, but at the same time it was one of the few gifts—if Alvin could call it that—he’d been thinking about.

“What if I offered as a birthday present? I mean, I’ll try and find something else just in case it comes out bad, but—”

“Maybe we can try for a bit? If she wants that is; she still is in school after all.”

“Damn, you’re right…”

Alvin rested his chin on his palm and watched Jude from the other side of the table. Though he never expected it, there had been a slight concern that he’d be laughed at for thinking of something like this, but it was a little encouraging to know he’d been wondering the same thing. All in all, some aspects looked impossible for now, but maybe Jude’s suggestion would work as she’d be on break in a month or two. It all really depended on what she wanted, but with the signs he’d picked up each time he or Jude tried to spoil her, he hoped that it wouldn’t go over poorly.

Laughing, he instead turned the topic back to the present, “It’s only been a year and we’re sitting here thinking of adopting a child, we’re moving a little fast, huh?”

“I’d say this past year has been pretty fast, but… I don’t regret any of it either.”

The admittance was shocking enough to be noticeable on Alvin’s face. It only resulted in Jude getting embarrassed, “Was that… a little too honest?”

“No, no,” Alvin quickly exclaimed beginning to feel a bit flushed himself, “no more lies remember?” The statement had been more something that applied to him more than Jude, but it only served to show how far they’ve come.

“Right,” Jude answered him a smile on his face.

“Let’s eat out tonight. Doesn’t have to be fancy, but I mean it is a special day,” Alvin actually would have put the effort of putting a reservation down somewhere more upscale if he had remembered the date, but he would for sure next time.

“We can stop by a shop on the way home. Think a nice pair of ribbons will be enough to make up for how much I’ll probably embarrass myself trying to ask Elize if she’d like to stay with us over break will go?”

Jude merely nodded and laughed again at the image it brought forth.

#sryr writes #series: tales of xillia #pairing: aruju #aruju #alvin vint svent #jude mathis #alvin svent/jude mathis #alfred vint svent

[sryryfm]

Lessons in Vulgarity

Pairing: Alvin Vint Svent/Jude Mathis

Warnings: Underage, Light Bondage, Teacher-Student Relationship, Anal Sex, Praise Kink, Uniform Kink, Voice Kink, Power Play, Age Difference, Corruption, Dirty Talk

Words:  3.6k

Summary: Mr. Svent was Jude Mathis' favorite teacher for a myriad of reasons, and rumors or no, he wanted anything and everything the man had to offer. AO3 / Pt 2

“There’s a rumor you see…”

                                 “that Jude Mathis has a thing for older men.”

“There’s another rumor that he’s dating one right now. A teacher.”

“But don’t tell anyone I told you, okay?”

                 “It’s just a rumor anyway. As if a teacher would be stupid enough.”

“Besides didn’t he have a crush on some girl named Maxwell?”

                                                              “Isn’t she graduating soon?”

“Guess he has a thing for older women too, haha!”

-

There were a number of things wrong with their current situation. Namely, the biggest issue Jude found had to be for as anxious as he normally felt, the whole thing left him more in a state of terrible longing rather than the fear he probably should feel.

His actions weren’t done for any particular gain. The jeers of being called a teacher’s pet never really bothered Jude simply because the truth was he enjoyed Mr. Svent’s company. He didn’t need to go such lengths for a grade. Mr. Svent knew that and though it all started as a means to feed the student’s obsession for knowledge, it steadily spiraled out into needing more. His insatiable curiosity grew beyond the information his teacher provided. He found himself wanting to know more about the man in question too.

The late hours they spent talking after class drew to more personal questions. There were things he could share with his teacher that rarely he could express elsewhere. He listened to his problems, offered him space and an excuse to avoid returning to an absent house full of impossible standards he couldn’t meet. In return, Alvin told him of technology that wasn’t supposed to exist and a world that sounded unreal. It was enough to be comfortable. It was enough to try and subsist the other sorts of feelings that came with being comfortable in someone’s presence.

It evolved though. That ease and comfort warped and morphed itself to the point where on some level they both knew it wasn’t right, let alone appropriate. He couldn’t express how thankful he was for everything Mr. Svent did for him, but he found himself staying after later and later. Little things the other did only fed his longing; the way his teacher would call his hairpins cute, the way he’d leave lingering touches and gazes. It was only a matter of time until they ended up like this. Again and again, in private classrooms, at Mr.Svent’s home when offered, Jude would let himself be opened up in ways he didn’t think possible.

Their relationship wasn’t normal. It didn’t have a name. It didn’t even have a basis or likely even a future. It was just comfortable. Convenient. Jude wanted as much of his teacher as he was willing to give and in turn would give anything and everything he could for the illusion of safety and love.

“I think we’re a little past formalities kid, but if that’s what you’re into feel free to keep addressing me like that.”

The conversation wasn’t the first, but unlike the others prior, they were all missing the suggestive tone and content this one had. Jude had been given permission to call him Alvin weeks ago, but it felt strange even with the close nature they had now. Calling him that while he made a mess of Jude on his desk was beyond just strange and leaned closer to mortifying.

“Do you want me to call you Alvin?”

“Oh, is it that you’re into?”

Feeling particularly bold and a bit impatient at the man’s antics, Jude silenced him by tugging his tie down for a kiss. Not the least bit annoyed with this development, the teacher wasted no time in taking control. Between breaths, he couldn’t help chuckling, the noise reverberating in their kiss. He already knew Jude liked being told what to do, what to think; he could tell him to do anything embarrassing in this situation and he would. The sort of control made Alvin hot in a terrible sense and he’d feel worse about it if he didn’t know it turned Jude on just as much.

“D-Did you lock the door?” Jude panted as Alvin moved lower, his laughter low in his throat as he devoured Jude.

“Of course,” he answered with a nonchalance that only worsened the student’s anxiety.

“Mr.S—Alvin, I’m serious,” his last word stuttered and broke slightly off into a whine as Alvin answered him with a bite. He always felt so conflicted because on one hand, Jude looked so precious in a uniform, but on the other hand with moments like now, there were too many layers and his patience always dealt with it poorly.

Unwrapping his student was never boring though. Each time was only a new face, a new sound, a new place he found to drive the other maddeningly close. He moved his hands down to grip the other’s thighs and hips lifting him to sit more properly on the desk rather than just semi leaning against it.

“Do you really think anyone will stop by? I even put a sign on the door that I’m not here and everything,” he knew the thought of being walked in on was horrifying for more than just the embarrassment it would bring. To save his own skin, he was actually rather careful where and when he chose to indulge in this scandal, but beyond this role being a ruse Jude didn’t know of, he also may have felt the tiniest bit guilty at the thought of it all blowing up in the kid’s face if they were found out. He wasn’t exactly ready for whatever they had right now to end.

“Do you remember what happened last time,” Jude narrowed his eyes, but behind the glasses and their proximity and position, it came off more adorable than anything. Not that the boy really struck him as anything but; he’d given him plenty of information that could destroy him if he knew how to use it properly. If he wanted to, he could turn him in for what they were doing right now. He wouldn’t though. The false idea of control was just one he was always mindful of around Jude. Dominating him like this was purely for their enjoyment, but at the end of the day, the student held all the cards and that honestly terrified Alvin.

“If you had listened to me to be quieter, it wouldn’t have been a problem.”

“You told me to be loud.”

“Did I?”

A grin spread on his face as he undoes Jude’s tie, twisting the soft fabric around his fingers as he brings it up and by the other’s mouth. A retort is resting on Jude’s tongue that falters upon piecing together what his teacher was silently inquiring.

“Think this’ll be quiet enough for you?” He asked the same confliction from earlier popping up at imagining the sight he would likely behold in a few moments. Jude never denied him after all, especially if he was all but telling him his options. Hearing him was so much better because the hitches and moans—all because of him—were beautiful to listen to, but seeing Jude tied up and bound seemed appealing in its own way. He should be more concerned at that thought considering the urge to see Jude any way he could manage was growing as the days went on, but it was placed into an easy to ignore part of his mind.

Instead, he watched Jude gingerly remove his glasses to place them on the desk before rolling his eyes. It only prompted him into tying the fabric faster. He made a knot, not particularly caring if he ruined the kid’s tie figuring he was more than happy with replacing it if he got to do what he wanted, placing it by Jude’s mouth before commanding him to bite. Jude acquiesced to the order, eyelids dropping just slightly as he got into it despite the slight aggravation he expressed earlier.

“That hurt?” Alvin murmured as he wanted it tight so as to block the boy’s mouth, but not so tight he was uncomfortable or couldn’t breathe. He shook his head and Alvin merely continued with his descent, undoing more buttons and straps thankful his style of dress allowed easy removal. It was simple enough to sling the clothes on the chair behind him before turning back to Jude.

“You’re doing so well,” he spoke keeping his voice soft as he pushed Jude to lay splayed on the desk kissing at his now exposed chest. They hadn’t experimented with this sort of thing, but he knew Jude got worked up easily on compliments and on the off chance he was nervous at not being able to speak, he figured it would put him at ease. The muffled moan he received certainly seemed to suggest so.

Alvin traced his fingers along Jude’s skin, torn between wanting to kiss it more, touch it or simply stare at how gorgeous he was.

“You have no right looking this pretty,” he mused running his fingers up to the other’s neck, past the hickeys he left, to rub along his cheek. Jude looked up at him dazed, but nuzzled into his palm. The teacher wanted to tell him how precious he was, but all that leaves his mouth is more vulgarities.

“Shame I can’t put my fingers in your mouth like this… you always seem so hungry for them,” he chuckled lewdly before moving away long enough to open the bottom right drawer of his desk and extract the bottle of lubricant and condoms he hid behind a series of manila folders, “I can do something else with them though, right?” Jude had called him a pervert for leaving it there, and he could see in his expression now he was thinking the same thing.

He tried to be quick in removing the rest of the layers between them never needing to shrug off his pants or undergarments all the way in places like this. Admittedly, he preferred bringing the boy home for this reason as he could not only take his time, but also remove what he wanted entirely. This position required more to be taken off than usual on Jude, as he really didn’t want to flip him onto his stomach, but still the urgency to finish before someone actually did need him for something was present. Given the time, it was unlikely there would be anyone or at the very most a student, but in some ways being found out by faculty was probably worse.

Moments like this with Jude always left him eager and rushing, but in equal measures, he hated it because he wanted to go slow. He wanted to feel pleasure, but he wanted to watch the boy fall apart. He wanted to taste and claim every inch of his skin in an unhurried fashion, but he also wanted to be rough and harsh.

Jude never seemed to care what he did. He knew the boy could say no. Even with his mouth gagged like this, he’d be able to read the slightest hesitation and stop in an instant. It was the fact he could continue if he wanted that excited him. The fact that he could talk or bully him into doing most anything was enough to spur him on.

Alvin, truthfully, didn’t know what Jude preferred. He likely should. A good lover would, but fast or slow, rough or gentle, the one thing the teacher knew was Jude reacted to what he thought Alvin wanted. Always the selfless sacrifice; even in a moment of what should be selfish pleasure, his actions—even if he did get off—were done more for Alvin’s enjoyment than his own. He couldn’t even be sure Jude’s claim to enjoy it was always truthful. He took from the student what he offered and nothing more.

Jude seemed too earnest to lie like that though. Maybe he was just that much of a masochist even if it was sad to think about on some level.

At times, it bothered him that Jude would let himself be treated like this. Sometimes it only led to Alvin taking his aggression out on the boy. Others, like now, it only made him want to treat him like something precious. Something breakable.

The sensation of Jude squeezing around his fingers, squirming his hips on the desk to draw Alvin closer was encouraging him to give in and rush.

“Do you want more already?” He asked, gripping Jude’s thigh tighter with his free hand. Egotism made him briefly wonder if the sight before him was solely for his benefit, but Jude was too honest for that wasn’t he? His body, his flushed face and lidded eyes, all of it was just an indication that he wanted this.

“I asked a question, kid,” He grunted, catching Jude’s eyes, demanding attention. The noises he made through the tie though muffled made it clear he was so lost that he forgot there were other methods to communicate.

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch you.”

Impatience grew in Jude’s expression and the mere sight of it given their current situation made Alvin feel absolutely filthy. To make sweet, patient Jude this overeager, almost irritated even, at not getting what he wanted was better than anything else his student could do to him.

“All right, all right, I hear you,” Alvin’s voice dropped to a saccharine murmur, as he moved his hand down to stroke him while adding a second finger. It wasn’t long before he was adding a third, Jude’s own wishes to rush overpowering any restraint he intended to show.

The boy’s volume increased and his teacher’s ministrations only added to it. Alvin let him know how much he enjoyed it. He didn’t care if his actions contradicted each other, making Jude loud enough to hear though bound was all the better because it just meant he was making him stop holding back. The teacher curled his fingers slightly conflicted in wanting to both push him to the edge and merely just shower him with pleasure. It was becoming a little difficult to hold back himself though.

Jude’s whine as he pulls his fingers out entirely is cute and he lets him know. He never wanted to hurt him—not seriously at least—as there was a difference between rough treatment and going too fast and neglecting to prepare the other properly. He slipped the condom on and added more lube hoping even with the student’s evident impatience, it’ll be enough to keep him from injuring himself. There was a twitch in the student’s hips as he started to enter, but he’s back to the same slow and gentle pace he initially wanted to use. He takes the time to appreciate his looks once more, looking for any signs of discomfort or silent signals on how to move.

He loved making Jude like this and he made sure he knew. He let the dams break as he let Jude know how beautiful he was, how he was his favorite student, how brilliant and good he was. The boy broke apart in his arms, shuddering and shaking from pleasure and the tears now streaming down his cheeks. Alvin wanted to care; on the surface, he even did care. It was why he let him cry and grip the desk. Let him pull the teacher closer with his legs despite the fact he should wait to start moving.

There’s something heartbreaking in seeing Jude cry even if a part of it is from pleasure. It makes the teacher want to wipe his eyes, but it’s something neither of them have addressed. When it first happened, Alvin had just assumed he was one of those types who cried as they came and thought nothing of it. The desperation in how he clung to him and apologized later in a voice he wasn’t sure whether to describe as embarrassed or ashamed made him rethink the action.

From what he gathered of the boy’s life, there were a number of things wrong, but that he always faced with a forced front and a sense of optimism that bordered on childish idealism. The fact he was hooking up with a man like him said enough about the lack of proper attention he probably needed. They were issues he needed help with, but Alvin would never be the right person to assist him with it. He couldn’t fill the void in Jude and on some level he was sure the boy knew this and knew their sort of relationship didn’t help things.

They just met like this because it was comfortable, convenient, oh so painfully easy. They used each other to pretend they could fill holes that couldn’t be filled. Something about Jude tricked him into feeling full himself, and until things broke, it was simple to continue on. To thrust into the smaller boy beneath him, egging him to come and focusing only on these false intimacies.

“It’s okay Jude,” he encouraged him, adjusting himself so he could stroke him in time with his movements, “you can come.”

Jude’s stamina was never very high, but when assured so sweetly it only dropped him off faster. With the over stimulation, his age and lack of experience, it was only natural he couldn’t last for very long. What probably made it on some level revolting was how the whole thing managed to make Alvin’s own stamina disgustingly low. The sight of Jude on his desk, gagged and crying, but taunt with the force of his climax, which only stained his chest was too much. Even the way he pitifully tried to meet his teacher’s thrusts to help him come while likely exhausted himself only fed the heat pooling lower.

He kept groaning out compliments and sweet nothings and it was cruel how he kept going despite the obvious uncomfortableness too much sensation was giving to the student underneath him. If he actually told him to stop, he would. He had tried to before once, pulling away to finish himself off, but Jude had only insisted he be the one to do it.

It was obscene how much the boy turned him on, and as he came with Jude’s name spilling from his lips, he has to remind himself to be quiet too. They’re both panting, and Jude is still shuddering as he gingerly tried to pull out and away. Jude has another erection budding, but he can tell with one look it’ll likely fade, as it seemed more painful than enjoyable considering it was a response to over stimulation. Alvin focused on removing and tying up the used condom and finding a scrap of paper to ball it up into, really not wanting to explain why there was a used condom in his trash to any janitor who might see it.

The action doesn’t take very long and he admittedly is attempting to rush so he can help Jude in undoing the tie around his mouth and get redressed. When he was dazed in the afterglow of their actions it always made Alvin feel twisted inside as that notion of how precious the student was arose, but likewise all the realizations of what they did and how wrong it was only surfaced with it. The bite marks and bruises on the kid’s thighs stood out, as did the stray tears he hadn’t properly wiped away, and it left the teacher uncomfortably unsure whether he was supposed to apologize or hold him. He often did neither.

“You okay, kid?” He did ask, once the cloth was removed and tried not to visibly wince at how raspy Jude’s voice sounded.

“Yeah, that… felt really good, Mr. Svent,” Jude answered him still sounding out of it and worse like his throat was raw. The fact he addressed him by his official title didn’t help things. At least he was no longer in the habit of thanking him after; that had been even worse.

“I keep telling you, when we’re alone you can drop that,” he admonished starting to hand the boy articles of clothing from the chair along with some napkins to wipe his stomach.

“So it really wasn’t you being perverted then?” Jude retorted a lopsided smile on his face as he accepted articles, cleaning himself up, slipping into his cloths and beginning to redo the buttons.

“I’m not that terrible,” He responded trying to fix up his own appearance, “besides isn’t addressing me so formally like that worse?”

“Maybe,” Jude said, beginning on his pants and underwear having given up on putting his tie back on, “although, maybe I do like that aspect to it.” His smile morphed into a slyer one at that and Alvin’s heart ached at how much he may have ruined this kid. Although, maybe it wasn’t all his fault. He wasn’t exactly a complete saint the first time they met like this.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get you Mathis,” He shook his head deciding to address him just as formally in return, “when you’re ready we can get coffee from the faculty office. I owe you that much at least—that and your voice sounds terrible.”

“I wonder who’s fault that is?”

“Yours,” the teacher insisted considering it was actually Jude who had started this time. With the way he had been talking lately too, Alvin should probably be more concerned on the influence he was having on this part of Jude’s life. Horrible or not, he really couldn’t say he was too concerned. The truth was, he even kind of loved it.

#sryr writes #series: tales of xillia #pairing: aruju #aruju #alvin svent/jude mathis #alvinjude #alvin vint svent #alfred vint svent #jude mathis

[sryryfm]

I Wanted You to be My Home

Pairing: Alvin Vint Svent/Jude Mathis, Past Alvin Vint Svent/Presa

Warnings: Implied Sexual Content, Underage, Age Gaps, Spoilers for Tales of Xillia

Summary: There was always only going to be one outcome. A brief window of Alvin's regrets.

Words: 1.4k

AO3

There are aspects about Jude that sometimes make Alvin forget he is a child. He’ll go from calculated logic to idealistic, childish nonsense so quick it makes the mercenary’s head spin. It’s frustrating really; he can’t understand how someone can be so intelligent, yet so blindly optimistic.

Well, more accurately, he was certain Milla’s influence on Jude’s natural inclination to simply want to help played a part. He was always saying that and without thinking, sticking his neck out for any old villager or little girl they came across that was suffering. The mercenary envied it honestly. He’d consider himself a realist, but considering his luck, it’s worked out better for him to carry an outlook like that. Milla isn’t even completely to blame though. With the way Jude follows and looks at her it’s no wonder he’d adopt her kind of way of living even if it does spark an entirely different kind of envy.

It’s the sort of trust he’s never been given and with his track record likely never would. Oddly, he for whatever stupid reason found himself almost believing in Milla too. He did his best to ensure that whatever happened, he’d come out positive or at least able to cut and run. So it grew even more frustrating when he found himself wanting to believe in both of them, but stop them from their reckless—and probably pointless—suicide mission. All the while, plotting and figuring just how he was supposed to kill a god.

Milla was an adult, but more than that, she was Maxwell. She had a strength and conviction that current mortal body or not, people like Alvin and especially someone like Jude would likely never have. He was a still a child. A stupid, do-gooder of a kid.

It makes him angry for him and at him. The way he’ll follow Milla and accept the unfair blame of his situation as if it was all his own doing. He’s putting himself in the kid’s shoes and he knows it, but still it makes him want to make sure he ends up all right at the end of it all. It makes him want to attempt the hit he’s been assigned right in front of Jude so he can see how much of a poor idea it is to trust every stranger you meet so readily. It’s all petty and selfish of him, like everything he’s ever done, but he tries to pretty it up regardless.

“I want to trust you.”

Jude says it not even realizing how much of a double-edged sword it is. Alvin finds himself wanting nothing more than to give him a reason to, so even he, himself can come to trust Jude too. He’s stuck though. Stuck in a web of lies and jobs that crisscross in backstabbing to the point where it’s even hard for him to follow sometimes. Typically, it was easier to go with whoever wasn’t on the losing side and whoever would be able to provide him with whatever he needed or wanted. It never had anything to do with morals until now. Suddenly, he was put with people hell bent on saving the world from terrible people like him.

In a different situation he may have even laughed. Instead, he did worse. He used Jude in the worst possible way.

He knew his actions were starting to look suspicious, but those incessant cravings and idle thoughts of the person Jude made him think maybe he could be kept popping their stupid heads up. It made him kiss him. It made him do more than lingering touches and not so subtle hints.

When the truth came out, after all of this he wouldn’t be forgiven. Couldn’t be; and if he was actually honest with himself, he didn’t want to be or even momentarily believe he deserves to be.

He knows out of everyone Jude is actually leaning towards trusting him the most. He’s always the one sticking up for him or giving him chance after chance. Forgiving him for things he shouldn’t be forgiven for in the slightest. They don’t know the things he’s done or what he’s doing. At first being a part of Exodus was easy because what other choice did he have? He was just a kid and too attached to the only family he had left; not that he even wanted to call Gilland his uncle. No, everything he did was to keep his mother alive. Once upon a time, he may have believed that with their actions, they could go home, but he knew those to be lies now. It just sucked when he found himself liking this bunch more than the usual people he found himself having to swindle.

It surprises him when Jude doesn’t even resist. Hell, if anything he was mentally hesitant—that big brain of his surely going over every bad implication Alvin’s actions could mean—while a different more eager gleam flickered in his eyes. He wanted Alvin; but of course, was just the little bit afraid of trusting him fully. Maybe, Jude just wanted someone and Alvin was a good enough substitute, but he’d leave those thoughts for when his front of fake confidence fell through. The fact he didn’t push him away to sleep on his own side of the inn was a wonder in itself.

So it became a slow work in progress until his next fuck up.

By the time they reached Xian Du, it had become a bit easier. For a number of complicated overlapping reasons, he had introduced them, as best as he really could, to his mother. It was a little despicable of him. The one time he’s for the most part honest, it’s all to use his poor, sick mother as an alibi for his shady actions. He had been genuinely worried for her and had needed to explain his actions, but the whole thing was pitiful because he wasn’t even lying for once.

Most of his horrible actions had all been for his mother. Not all, but certainly he did what he could in order to keep her alive and manage a way to maybe get her back home. It was nerve wrecking to let these people who would undoubtedly grow to hate him meet one of the few people he valued in life. Half of him believed he only did so because he knew they wouldn’t use her against him. The other half oddly enough, simply wanted them to know.

It didn’t stop  him from feeling any less terrible as Jude kissed him so sweetly without prompting once they were behind closed doors at the inn.

What’s worse is he felt like he just used that too. Aside from the other stranded Elympions, no one knows of his mother; even now he struggled to keep her hidden and safe. So why did he let his guard and trust down around these people? Jude’s seemingly boundless trust in him that he was sure would run out any day just seemed so easy to place these built up feelings on. How even if he continued to betray them, somehow this tiny factor of his motivation behind it would help him get the forgiveness he most certainly didn’t deserve.

From the stray tears he was trying to hold back—don’t be a crybaby screaming in the back of his mind—as Jude comforted him, treating him better than he deserved, maybe he really just did want them to know.

Something in Alvin decided that even if he came to double-cross them again, he was breaking free from Exodus as soon as he could. He wanted out. He wanted to believe and enjoy Jude’s comfort without feeling so guilty. So without intending to it all had to become twisted again when he sold them out. There are things he needs that don’t line up with them. There are things that he needs that he can make line up with their needs too.

No one understands that, and no one can really believe that when he tries to explain it. He doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t even blame the subtle way he can tell Jude wants to push him away when he joins with them again.

Hell, it’s why he gives them as much information as he can. He tells them about himself. He tells them about Presa.

Presa, Presa, Presa, that was another can of worms that’ll end up being pulled apart when he’s alone with Jude. Because he knows as he’s explaining it’s on the tip of the kid’s tongue.

“Did you love her?”

“Do you even love me?”

He doesn’t have an answer.

He doesn’t think Jude’d believe him even if did.

#sryr writes #series: tales of xillia #pairing: aruju #aruju #alvin vint svent #alfred vint svent #jude mathis