#enqinaer

[multimuse-rp-archived]

@enqinaer never asked for this

“who am i to be in love when your love never is for me?”

[herocomplex-archived]

@enqinaer asked: ❛  did  you  really  think  i’d  never  figure  it  out ?  ❜

Was this a trick? Arturo had no idea how to respond. His escape plan had been clever, or so he’d thought, and Berlin had been smarter than whoever this new guy was… Palermo, they called him. He was just as impulsive, but a lot less smart, in his opinion. That didn’t make him any less scary. Arturo shifted slightly, his gaze avoiding Palermo altogether. “What are you talking about?”

[multimuse-rp-archived]

@hellmersmyopathy / @enqinaer

[multimuse-rp-archived]

@enqinaer (continued from here)

The sound of his laughter was charming; it immediately brought a grin to Helsinki’s face as he kissed Palermo back, arms wrapping around his waist immediately. His laughter was contagious, though, and Helsinki soon pulled back with a laugh of his own, hands slipping under the man’s shirt. “Why not?” he asked with a semi-teasing tone and a gleam of mischief in his eyes. A poke to his stomach underneath his shirt, still holding Palermo close so he couldn’t pull away. “I can’t kiss you there?”

Playfully, his head leaned down again, pushing up the Argentinian’s shirt as his hands gripped his sides. His beard rubbed briefly along the man’s skin before he kissed the surprisingly soft yet muscular stomach, gently, slowly, wondering if Palermo would actually try to stop him. Lifting his head, he smiled, pulling the man closer again. “I love it when you laugh.”

[multimuse-rp-archived]

@enqinaer (continued from here)

Grief was a funny thing. He’d experienced it when Oslo died, too. He’d blamed Arturo for it; even though Arturo hadn’t directly killed him, he’d set it up so the others could. How was this any different than what Palermo had indirectly done to Nairobi? Helsinki wasn’t angry, though; he was too broken to be angry, didn’t even have the energy.

Palermo could beg for forgiveness, get down on his hands and knees and scream to the world, pray for Helsinki to forgive him, but it would never be enough. He’d never look at him the same way again; those icy blue eyes were no longer a sight he looked forward to seeing. Cold, dark, yet still sad. He had no right to be sad; he’d caused this!

“Stop.” He pulled his hand away, still unable to lift his gaze from the floor. “It’s your fault, and you know it.” He thought he’d cried so hard he didn’t have any tears left, but he realized he was wrong as he felt the hot liquid dripping from his eyes. “How dare you... how dare you say I’m just grieving?” He would have yelled, but he lacked the energy, so it came out as a disappointed, broken man’s words. “None of this would’ve happened if you weren’t here.”

He didn’t mean the next words, but the grief and bitterness inside his heart made him utter them as if it were nothing. “I wish it was you that died.”

[multimuse-rp-archived]

Why did I do this...

@hellmersmyopathy @enqinaer

[multimuse-rp-archived]

Teenage @enqinaer asked: “you should lay down.” / for young sergio

Meeting his brother’s boyfriend for the first time had been exciting; it had even been exciting the second time. By the third, Sergio felt comfortable around him; however, the overprotectiveness seemed to run in their family. If anyone was mean to Sergio, Andrés would make sure it never happened again, and now that Sergio knew how to fight, he was the same way. That’s why he was still a little distant towards Martín — well, that and he was super shy.

“I’ll be okay,” he finally replied, not taking Martín’s advice and instead just sitting down on the couch. It was sweet of him to be so caring; however, Sergio wondered if he’d ever fully trust Martín. Those blue eyes... there was something hiding behind them, or maybe it was just his imagination. Maybe he just didn’t want to accept the fact that Andrés was growing up, that he wouldn’t get to play with him much anymore. Either way, he felt some tension in the air, so he took a small breath, looking down at the scrape on his knee. He was a good motorcyclist; how had he fallen?

“It’s just a scratch.” If Andrés was with them, he’d wash the injury out himself, and it would sting as the peroxide cleaned it and entered his bloodstream. Luckily, it was only Martín, and Sergio doubted he’d make him clean the wound. “But... thank you for the thought.”

[gcvernedbalance]

@enqinaer (continued from here)

The feelings Martín had for Andrés were clear as day, and Sergio had never been good at reading signals. Every time Andrés had gotten married, he’d noticed Martín drink a little more than usual and make a few more derogatory jokes than normal. This time, he was sick — either that or he was faking it, but Sergio doubted that even Martín would be that committed. Although he had mixed feelings about the man, Sergio knew it wouldn’t be a wedding without him there. If he wasn’t feeling well enough to go, the whole thing would feel… empty. He greeted Martín with a small (albeit slightly awkward) smile and a polite nod of his head before entering. His smile faded slightly at the words, though. “He said that?” Clearing his throat, Sergio shook his head. “I’m sorry about him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He gently placed the warm soup down on the counter.