this is such a weird request omggg but can you do one where Isaac is like trying to ask the listener about their past but in like subtle ways and then the listener catches on and they like argue about it? AHH IDK I JUST THINK IT WOULD BE INTERESTING
๐๐๐ฌ๐๐ซ๐ฏ๐๐ - ๐๐ฌ๐๐๐ ๐ฑ ๐๐๐ฅ๐! ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ (๐ณ๐ฌ๐๐ค๐ฎ๐๐)
c/w: mentions and implied assault, abuse, slight gore, mentions of vomit, self harm references, fighting, no comfort
a/n: anon!!!!! Thank you so much for the idea and request, this was so fun to write and so heart wrenching ugh. When you ask for angst, you get angst xx
โงอโบห*๏ฝฅเผโพใโฝเผ๏ฝฅ*หโบโงอ
You want to be loved so badly. It's disgusting. It's fearful. It's agonizing. It's the unholyness of your entire existence. You don't need it to feel real, you don't need love to make you whole. It's just the thought of why can't you get to indulge in humanism. You feel so backed off from everyone.
Almost like there's a wall between you and every single person you have ever met. You watch from the broken, discarded window as your peers fall in and out of love. And yet you never were one to like staying inside. But you want to stay inside so badly now. You clung onto loveless, hopeless, misshapen, relationship of the past and the trauma choking you.
You used your entire "teenagehood" to avoid this drifting feeling. The feeling of being so pathetically alone and even the found feeling of being loved is almost like a divine comedy that loops itself to the point it's hysterical. It's like they deserve it and you don't. That's so pathetically visible to you.
For they play outside, the sun kissing soft skin, pavements scrape gentle knees, while you stay inside a broken house, clinging onto the houses shattered window, skin breaks on your palms. Blood drips. Velvet. Just like their lips. You did this as if it would escape you from the pain of independence.
Yet here you were, making dinner for you and Isaac. You'd zoned out with the knife in your graspxface blank as you stared down at the onion you were cutting. It's sting reminded you of them, every bit of them that traumatized you, the stinging of- you can't be thinking of them. You're doing it again.
Shaking your head, you try and shake away the memories of the past, hands shaking violently as you kept cutting through onion. The silver of the blade glimed in the kitchen light, oh how many times the silver had dug into your skin.
It carved its way into you, marking you as it's own. Silver doesn't care and doesn't know it's purpose without being used, just like you. The kitchen was empty apart from the sound of the radio playing quietly, the lyrics echoed in your mind as you stared down at the knife.
The blade comforted you at the worst of times, digging deeply within your flesh and cutting out the remains of the sin burried deep within you that you could redeem yourself for, having to get on your knees for forgiveness
So you begged for forgiveness. The blade was sinful, yet heavenly the guilty aftermath yet relieving feeling of the cool metal on your skin made you yearn for it again and again, an addict as one may say.
The knife was held tightly within your grip but that's when you felt it, two hands on your waist and a kiss on your neck. You'd completely forgotten you were even cooking. Isaac looked at you with a worried expression and knew this was to do with you past.
He knew you never talked about it. He wasn't surprised. His hands gently massaged the skin of your abdomen and smiled as he kissed your neck, rocking you side to side gently into rhythm to the music.
"What you cooking love..? Need me to cut anything?"
He was testing the waters today, he wanted to hint at small things and see if you'd open up. He highly doubted anything would happen bad and that you'd close down the situation, but oh.. Oh how he didn't know what was to come.
You'd already had a shit day, bad clients, bad weather, not having the right ingredients, flash backs. The fucking flashbacks. You looked at him and shook your head but he urged you to sit down while he finished the cooking his face soft but written in worry.
The smell of food filled the room you must've fallen asleep. You rubbed your eyes and saw a plate of food being placed in front of you while Isaac sat down besides you.
Isaac noticed you getting worse recently and wasn't going to leave it alone. He slowly watched as you ate and then began to eat himself, noticing how you play with your food.
"You've not been hungry recently have you? Is it the nightmares again?"
Testing the waters, he watched your expression. It didn't change in the way he had wanted, your eyes flashed with anger yet you stayed silent, slowly eating a little more. He needed you to talk and couldn't help if you didn't.
"Babe- please this isn't good for either of us.. Talk to me love, tell me wants going on. Is it your past? You need to tell me.."
He huffed out in frustration you'd both had a bad day at work and your expression soured even more. You shook your head and shoves the food away, getting up and rummaging through the cabinets as you grabbed yourself an alcoholic drink, downing it.
The familiar burning of the drink felt good. It was t supposed to but it did. Isaac was getting tired and stood up taking the alcohol away from you as he spoke again, sounding worried
"You cant keep drinking it away, talk to me."
You snapped and downed the rest of the bottle and slammed it back down on the counter. Your hands were shaking and you felt sick.
"Why don't you just stop fucking asking? I try and ask you anything about your past and you won't answer, so why can't you respect mine?! "
You snarled as he looked down at you. His soft look had changed and turned into his usual stern one. He didn't care for your feelings right now and simply wanted an answer, you were both tipsy and tired, it wasn't a good combination.
"You know what, fucking out! I'm sick of your attitude! Lock yourself in the bedroom or something like you were trained to do, I don't want to see you until that mouth of yours is trained!"
Snarling again, he grabbed your collar and slammed you against the fridge things audibly rattling inside as you started to yell back, hands hitting him and telling him to get off you.
Things were getting pretty heated. Small parts of your past had been revealed while arguing, you called Isaac out for being so moody after work and asked if all you were was a doll for him to use.
Neither of you were blind. You'd been abused in your past, probably worse. Isaac tried desperately to calm down but your words made him snap and he slapped you, calling you pathetic.
A stinging pain filled your cheek, a slick wetness forming slowly on it as you stared at him. His face was full of horror and be loved forward, hands shaking. He felt sick knowing he had just hit you. Hit you like you had been before.
That's all you are good for after all, being hit around and hurt. Drink, smoke, sleep. It's a vicious cycle. The abused becomes the abuser.
You would follow Isaac like a lost puppy, clinging to him and whining whenever he left you. Now you were biting the hand that fed you, slowly turning into the feral mutt you were before.
"Love- love come here I'm sorry-"
Sorry. It was an easy word to say. It was just a word. It meant nothing to anyone anymore. He looked at you as you backed away and shook your head.
'Start a new life and move on'
Only to be beat again by the man you thought you could trust.
This is how the world works. Greed takes over and gluttony sets in, lust blinds and people get hurt. People get beat, just as you were.
โงอโบห*๏ฝฅเผโพใโฝเผ๏ฝฅ*หโบโงอ
a/n: .. I love writing angst
