SOUNDS OF MADNESS 🌹

writing - aesthetics - multi muse “all that we dream or seem is but a dream within a dream”

[silentechoess]

MAIN AFFILIATE: GRINDHOUSE GOSPELS

CHARACTER INFORMATION:

ASHER ACCARDI || DARIO MARCHETTI || JULIAN ESTRADA

AESTHETICS:

ASHER ACCARDI || DARIO MARCHETTI || JULIAN ESTRADA

WRITING:

ASHER ACCARDI || DARIO MARCHETTI || JULIAN ESTRADA

[silentechoess]

[silentechoess]

PROMPT — ROOK said to ASHER: “you promised me you’d stop going out at night”

it had been a source of contention in their relationship — prior to marriage even. asher had occasionally gone out with friends for a couple of drinks after work that resulted in him coming home much later than usual. much to rook’s displeasure. he’d made it very clear just how much he disliked asher staying out at night… or more like, how he wasn’t home whenever rook walked through the door after a long day.

“you promised me you’d stop going out at night” rook’s voice barked at him from the other end of the phone as asher navigated through the crowd, stepping outside the bar he’d found himself at. it was getting late.. but still earlier than when his husband usually came home. asher was caught red-handed in a promise he had forgotten he made.

“i went out for one drink. it’s a coworker’s birthday and we decided to celebrate after our shift. i won’t be out late.” there was a long pause — too long for asher’s comfort “i’m sorry, babe.” a sigh left him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in anxious anticipation “i should have texted you. are you mad?”

@sskinwalkers

[silentechoess]

PROMPT — JULIAN said to SAINT: “i’ve never felt more like myself than i do standing here with you”

when did julian ever show any emotion aside from sadness and sorrow? rarely ever. the professor and author didn’t know how to be happy, let alone show it when he was. happiness felt like such a hard goal to reach and one that the pessimist in him believed no one truly achieved.

regardless of his beliefs, his paramour certainly tried to change this. saint always had a way of making julian feel appreciated even if those feelings were short-lived. the moments when the older man wasn’t feeling bad about himself, sulking in his own self-loathing could be counted on one hand. despite this sad truth, saint’s efforts didn’t go unnoticed. julian may have been the man’s muse but to julian, saint was his lifeline.

“for years, i’ve tried to hide who i am” the hard truth came out while the two were attending an art gala. artists in their own right, it was fitting that they’d find themselves at such an event. “but right here, right now..” finding saint’s hand, he locked their fingers together — a gesture of affection that carried more weight than most would realize especially coming from a man so full of sorrow, doom, and gloom. it was the first time he’d openly displayed affection in public since he and saint became an item.

“.. i have never felt more like myself than i do standing here with you” it was a quiet admission offered without hesitation meant only for the man standing to his left to hear. it was the truth. better still, he was sober when he said it.

@sskinwalkers

[silentechoess]

PROMPT - NOVA said to DARIO “you looked so free today. i don’t think i’ve ever seen you look that free”

volatile. if there was one word to describe nova and dario’s marriage, that would be it. both were fierce lovers, protective over what belonged to them and with a penchant for getting under one another’s skin. the days where they spent time alone were few and far between. the hustle and bustle of the city normally held the man’s attention and the blame of the lack of spending time together was all on him. he was a hard man to persuade to do anything aside from make money.

somehow nova always convinced him otherwise.

“you looked so free today. i don’t think I’ve ever seen you look that free” the spainards voice caught his attention, the man turning to face his husband who was toting two glasses of red wine. they’d spent the day out on the boat on the lake — just the two of them avoiding any other responsibility aside from keeping their marriage (the second try) in tact. the sun was now setting to create a picturesque scene in tune with the serene, still water.

nova’s words lingered. he was right. the mobster never relaxed long enough to have fun; strictly business is what he would be considered. the Italian knew he was wound tight but it was only in these moments of reflection, of peace, away from the city that he was able to recognize that… and importantly, admit it.

“i looked free? what are you insinuating? that i’m some uptight grump who doesn’t know how to have fun?” the words could be taken as irritation but as a smirk spread across his lips, it was clear that he wasn’t speaking with any malice. glass of wine accepted from his husband, his free arm slid around the man’s waist, pulling him closer as a kiss was pressed against his temple.

“it’s easy to feel that way when i have you by my side” it was overly romantic; a complete contrast to dario’s usual demeanor… and from how he normally spoke to nova. away from the lights, the constant of the city life, he was a different person. deep down, he knew he needed to pull out all the stops this go around with nova — he lost him once, he couldn’t risk that again. besides, how much more romantic could he get? they were watching the fucking sunset on a boat for gods sakes.

@sskinwalkers

[silentechoess]

PROMPT — ASHER said to ROOK: you kissed me in front of everyone and i think my whole life changed in that second

if someone told asher that he’d be married only a few months after meeting someone, he’d think they were insane. yet, here he was… on a honeymoon in miami with his husband by his side. from that unsavory first meeting to the younger man practically moving in after spending one night together, marrying only months later felt inevitable. it felt right. it was right.

the pair were seated at a beachside bar, sunburned after spending the day on the beach. the music played behind them, loud enough to hear but low enough to not interrupt their conversation as the dance floor livened up with other patrons. the younger man was nursing a pina colada; a stark contrast to his husbands glass of whiskey.

“do you remember when you asked me what our relationship was to me and I told you I didn’t know yet?” asher asked, looking over at rook. it was the earlier stages of their relationship; the chances of the other remembering were slim.

“it’s because i was too afraid to tell you i loved you” it was too soon is what he told himself back then when those feelings overwhelmed him. when asher loved, he loved with his entire heart and loving someone shortly after meeting seemed like such an asinine thought. but that hardened faux facade diminished quickly when he met rook and the vulnerable, delicate side came to the forefront. for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel the need to pretend around someone.

“i was telling myself that it was too soon and that i didn’t know what i was thinking, that you were never going to be interested.” a laugh preceded his words. “i thought you hated me but i was chasing you like some lovesick puppy…” hate was a strong word but the man he now called his husband disliked him in the beginning. what a change of events.

“but then….” a pause to reminisce on a milestone in their relationship. a smile curled his lips at the thought that crossed his mind “you kissed me in front of everyone and i think my whole life changed in that second” rook probably didn’t remember their first kiss but asher sure did. he was a romantic and always held onto those sweet, tender moments “i’d never been so sure of something in my life. after that, the doubt didn’t exist. i knew i loved you then”

@sskinwalkers

[silentechoess]

NOVA SAID TO DARIO: “seems you haven’t learned anything”

———————————————————————————

if dario could go back to five minutes ago where he wasn’t standing in the crossfire of his husband, he would. @sskinwalkers was clearly unhappy, speaking ninety miles a minute, mostly in Spanish, about dario’s nighttime escapades. strip clubs, copious amounts of alcohol, and occasionally cocaine kept him up and out. it was the same problems from their first stint in their marriage.

“seems you haven’t learned anything” nova nearly spat the words out in venom. whatever he said beforehand, dario didn’t catch because he was too busy trying to figure out how to calm him down. “nova…” a sigh “can you just… calm down and listen to me for once?” mistake number forty “this is not… this is not like our first time together. what I do at night is business, nothing else and nothing more”

[sskinwalkers]

if there's one thing you don't do, it's tell a volatile person to calm down. this goes quadruple for a seething spaniard. 'rio was stepping on both lines... flatfooted and dangerously cocksure.

"¿ilegar de nuevo?" long, ebony wisps flutter over viridescent orbs; incredulous "listen to you... l-listen to you?" plush lips curled into a snarl, pearls behind them exposed; lunging to boldly flick his mobster mate's bejeweled lobe "¡antes me cortaría las orejas que dejar que soportaran las mentiras que siempre salen de tu boca!"

there was no doubt in nova's mind that marchetti was fucking around again... some more, that he was getting his dick wet at all hours of the night. indulging in females, men, drugs. he'd been in the same situation 10 years ago when he'd married the man thinking these ways would change now that he'd committed.

there was also no confusing the fact that he'd done this to himself by answering that phone call a few months ago, by believing that dar had changed... by coming back. truly, the fool. the clown painting his own face and then acting shocked to see that garish makeup smeared across his mug in the mirror.

"business, eh?" scoffing, lilting forward; clapping between each word "what" clap "business" clap "do" clap "you" clap "have" one last good rap before his spine straightens and those arms fold defensively across his chest "drunk and high in a strip club at 2 in the morning when your husband is here, waiting like an idiota?"

delgado was rich and hot and didn't have to put up with this. he knew that about himself, once. walked away from the gangster (knowing next to nothing about these illegal activities and underhanded movements at the time, mind) without a glance back...

but he never removed that symbol of union with him from around his ring finger, did he?

taking a step back, never once letting the italian by way of california have a word in edgewise; dismissing the whole thing and him "you keep on. you keep going every night on your little business trips, perro. you go enjoy yourself. we can both do that, you know? just don't come raving at me and my good times" ...which he would be having. in the past, he'd never, but two could absolutely play this game and his husband was about to find out how skilled he was at it.

[silentechoess]

conflict resolution wasn’t on dario’s list of strong suits. normal and beneficial in his line of work but when it came to nova… his husband… his methods of thinking before he spoke and being bullheaded always ended with him in the hot seat. he fucked up (in too many ways) and the Spaniard was making that abundantly clear.

nova’s little tirade went uninterrupted. it wasn’t like the man would listen anyway — at least not in his little fit he was throwing. demeanor calm, his stare cold… icy. despite being outwardly stoic, internally, he was anything but. how dare something that belonged to him think he had any right to speak to him in such a way? telling, though, was the fact that nova wasn’t lying on the floor knocked out cold.

“are you done?” another mistake. the last part of nova’s rant had touched a nerve, his emotionless expression twisting into something far more sinister, gaze dark, zeroed in. the thought of his husband being with another man had the vein in his neck throbbing. the simple thought, the insinuation brought his temper to the surface.

“you’re not doing a god damn thing” if his husband thought he’d be entertaining others, he’d have a slew of missing and murdered lovers. “it’s pretty fucking funny that you think you have the free rein to just do whatever the fuck you want” controlling? yes. but that came with being married to a man like him.  “give me a fucking break, nova. i own strip clubs… i go there to check things out, make sure it’s being ran to my standards. if you think i’m out getting my dick wet then you’re fucking delusional”

the words came with him shortening the distance between them. his track record wasn’t the best and nova had every right to question him, to accuse him, to not trust his loyalty or his word. to dario, though, what he said was the golden rule and he expected everyone, especially his husband, to abide by them.

deep inside, though, he knew that the Spaniard wasn’t like anyone else. the thought of nova leaving… again… was enough motivation for his anger to switch into something more possessive; attempting to prove that despite their little tiff, he still wanted him. hands strongly grasped the man’s waist to forcefully pull him flush against his own. “do you really think I’d be out fucking around when I have you to come home to?” hands slid around to rest on the small of his back, a look in his eyes that said he’d devour him right there but also a hint of pleading — something he’d never do aloud. “i married you, didn’t i? I could’ve married any of these whores you’re so worried about but I chose you. I asked you to come back. you really think I’d fuck this up a second time?”

@sskinwalkers

[terrorignitis]

Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction

[sskinwalkers]

"bon sang, julian…" baritone français sharp 'neath the steady thrum of house trance wishing to drown it out, umbers rolling in the crimson of his bloodshot gaze "on fait ça maintenant?" here, in the club— fucked off harder than either of them had been for weeks now? sobriety was never anything more than a short hiatus from the dopesick norm and neither man was truly interested in helping the other stay on that wagon.

oberon's crown lulls back between his shoulders during the carefully rehearsed spiel he could've spewed off verbatim— it was that common; mouth agape, tongue a lull-out before crooking sharply to the side, fist raised as if he's been strung up by the neck and dying.

they'd had this conversation and million times (make that a million and one) since the two became a thing, and saint had no idea how to combat it anymore now than he did back then. every effort to comfort and console, assure, was foiled with more crestfallen insecurity and seething jealousy... did the professor even really love him? or did he just like a good fuck and something to cry about afterwards?

there was rarely ever a time he could pull julian from this depth of disparity and wallowing, and the eccentric artist was certain that's how the man liked it at this point. there's no hiding or diminishing the amount of success saint-germaine had in his endeavors, that midas touch not spoken of in jest, but how could he reconcile this for his jilted lover?

straightening in the booth next to— they'd chosen this seat so they could watch those bodies writhe to the music under multicolored strobes while they drank on top of their high. julian one to stay home when indulging in his addictions, but his young mate would never have it...

"anything i touch?" pulling in close, palm pressed to feverish flesh flayed from the unbuttoned silk of estrada's miami vice-esque shirt, feeling that muscle pounding overtime beneath it... fuck the dope was good tonight. cocaine coursing through a system that never forgot how good it felt, but the memories had faded over the last month, reminder dangerously strong "i'm touching you" eyes boring in the point; nodding "we can talk about your eternal existential crisis when we get home, yeah? you're brilliant and i love you" paw moved to give a curt smack to a tuft laden jaw "now come dance with me before the crack wears off"

[silentechoess]

a broken record. that’s what he was. whenever those feelings began creeping up, saint became the primary target for julian’s frustration. there wasn’t a rhyme or reason for the man’s disdain towards the other. it was the simple fact that his young lover was successful in practically anything that he did. most would have been proud, but not him. it was a constant reminder of his own flaws — his inability to excel in his own chosen art.

these unresolved feelings contributed to his insecurity about their relationship. why would someone as successful as saint want to be with him? a struggling author had no reason to be with a successful artist. his paramour could be with anyone that he wanted. someone successful, younger. someone who wasn’t a mess.

yet, here he was.

snapping out of his hazy internal monologue, julian was unimpressed at saint’s exaggerated display. “can you not make a joke about this?” for a man so void of feelings aside from sorrow and self-loathing, annoyance was one that he never could stave off. if anyone else had been in saint’s position, they probably would have reacted the same way. however, julian couldn’t help it — this part of him was deeply ingrained after years of self-torture about his lack of accomplishments.

“yeah” affection wasn’t julian’s thing, especially not in public. being uncomfortable in his sexuality was apparent despite living with and fucking another man; what part of himself was he comfortable with? downing another glass of his chosen comfort, whiskey, it took minimal effort before the liquid was tossed back and swallowed in one gulp. “i’m not much of a dancer, saint” he wasn’t much of anything. besides, was there any point in attempting to sway his lover away from the dance floor? saint always got what he wanted.

non-confrontational down to the core, he tried his best to negotiate out of dancing but his hardened facade was wilting just as quick as his vision. blurred and fading, he could feel the mixture of coke and alcohol doing its job to filter in the heat of the atmosphere along with heightening his senses to be in tune with the thumping music and blaring lights. what remained, though, was excuses galore — mostly revolving around his beloved cat that had only been alone for a few hours. “it’s getting late” lifting his wrist, he peered at the time…. as if he could see clearly but managed through a series of squints.

it wasn’t even midnight and the man — drunk and high off his ass — actively tried to get out of a situation where attention would be on him. not just him…. them. “we should probably get back home. morning comes early”

@sskinwalkers

[silentechoess]

“my passions from a common spring, from the same source i have not taken, my sorrow — i could not awaken”

Name: Julian Marcus Estrada

Age: 48

Location: New York City

Status: In a committed relationship though he doesn’t understand why his partner wants to be with him

Occupation: Literature professor, author

[silentechoess]

“when you dance with the devil, the devil doesn’t change, the devil changes you”

Name: Dario Luciano Marchetti

Age: 42

Location: New York City || Los Angeles, California || Chicago, Illinois || Miami, Florida || Various others

Status: Married to his trophy husband

Occupation: Kingpin

[silentechoess]

“he’s got a little mischief in his smile, and a little wild in his eyes but there’s a bleeding in that heart, and a whole lot of passion in that soul”

Name: Asher Dean Accardi (nee Morgan)

Age: 24

Location: New Orleans, Louisiana

Status: Married to the love of his life

Occupation: 3L law student, intern at the District Attorney’s Office, part-time bartender, cat dad to Toby

[mcflymemes]

DRAMATIC & PROTECTIVE RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS *  for the ones who want to keep you safe from harm

get behind me.

go inside and lock the door and don't come out until i say so.

are you all right? where are you hurt?

over my dead body.

i promised them i'd keep you safe.

i sleep better when you're next to me.

are you serious? i'm not letting you risk your life.

don't go. it's safer here.

i should have been here. this is my fault.

here. take this gun. don't pull the trigger unless it's absolutely necessary.

they told me to watch you.

i won't let anyone lay a hand on you.

stay close to me.

i'm not worth saving. please.

can you stay? just for a little while? it would help.

it's too dangerous out there.

i thought i'd lost you.

can you hear me? hello? where are you?

they're all afraid of me.

they told me you'd be trouble. clearly that was an understatement.

one of us has to make it out of here.

is that a bruise?

get back. get back right now.

did they touch you?

i already lost you once. i'm not going to lose you again.

a few more steps. we're nearly there. i've got you.

where does it hurt? let me see.

oh my god, you're covered in blood.

i love you, but you have to go.

climb on my back. i'll carry you.

i wish you'd stay.

i slept here all night. i couldn't leave you.

stay with me. i can keep you safe.

no. i've made my decision. you're staying here.

holy shit. are you okay? what the hell happened?

we have to get inside right now.

quick! hide! in here!

if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.

if they attack again, we'll be ready.

this never should have happened.

i want you to run, okay? run and don't look back.

you're all right. you're safe. it's over.

i'll feel better once you're out of this.

i don't have nightmares when you're here.

where have you been? i've been calling you all night.

your phone went straight to voicemail. what's going on?

i don't want anything to happen to you.

i can't stand the thought of losing you.

i won't let them touch you.

when we met, i promised myself i'd keep you safe.

where'd they go? i'll give them a piece of my mind.

here. squeeze my hand if it hurts.

i'll lay beside you.

no. it's non-negotiable. you're staying here.

i don't want you to die, okay?

listen to me! i know what i'm doing!

i can't lose you again!

do you hear me? i love you! i've always loved you.

i've got you. i'm right here.

can i stay? i'll take the couch.

tell them you're with me.

you can make it. i believe in you.

are you kidding me? who decided this?

here, i'll pick you up.

get back in the car. i'll handle this.

if anyone can do it, it's you.

let me carry you to safety.

i don't do well when you're away.

[thememedaddy]

[silentechoess]

[silentechoess]

but yet, a romantic soul who refuses to believe that he’s capable of being loved.

[silentechoess]