Hello, Darling

New around here, if you'd like to say hello. I don't bite...much. (6th Year Ravenclaw, but let's just say there was some deliberation)

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"Fuck if I know, seems like people want all sorts to be their Valentine’s." He shrugs and appraises the other. "You seem like the cute in a bit of an awkward way sort, loads of people go for that." He half grins at the other. "Someone to take care of and all that jazz. " The other seems so upset by the barest hints of innuendo he’d slipped into the last comment that he finds himself somewhat amused, but damn, it’s not like he was asking for details. He was just making a joke. He raises his brows. "Maybe you ought to try and find one."

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

"Thanks," Bruce supposed. "I actually think I’ve been called that before. I apparently come off in a very specific way to everyone." That was interesting. Sounded experiment-worthy. He’d have to try that.

"Relationships? Valentines? Not really my area of expertise," Bruce admitted, smirking. "Unless you’re suggesting my Valentine be my Potions homework. That might work out better than an actual person." Boy or girl didn’t matter to him, but he found he couldn’t hold very well-thought out conversations with either gender. "I don’t count on even getting married, so I really don’t try that hard. I’ve had a girlfriend before. It ended…really badly." Bruce sighed. "I’d rather it didn’t happen again."

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"Getting married?" He raises a brow, slight shock gracing his face,. "Well darling, no one is talking about that. Just you know, some distraction, something…fun? Someone you like?" He shrugs his shoulders. "Disasters, I think are unavoidable, the key is to not really get that involved." He flashes his teeth at Bruce. "It’s the feelings that make everything shatter in your face. I think you’re quite safe there with potions homework.": He eyes the other consideringly. "Or not. What went wrong with your last one?"

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

"I always seem to get myself too involved," Bruce admitted. "But I don’t really want to kiss and have dinner with my homework, so it’s not so emotional when we part." He shrugged. "I’m famous for being a stick in the mud. I wouldn’t know what to do for fun." Unless, of course, it included studying. "The problem is that I don’t like anyone and no one likes me, which is a solution in and of itself." Of course , he didn’t blame them. He had no idea why anyone would want to go out with him, boy or girl.

What went wrong with the last one? Bruce’s eyes darkened and turned downcast, gazing down at his lap. He watched his hands trembling just a bit. “She died,” he said at last, and that was all he would say. That was all he could say.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"I...er. Well..." He's a bit taken aback, of all the possible things he could have expected, that really wasn't on the list. "I am terribly sorry to here that." He manages to finish honestly, pausing to weigh whether or not to inquire further or to just drop it. In the end he figures he ought to just leave it for the moment, after all, he's not exactly the king of saying the right thing, and actual emotions are largely difficult for him, especially barely knowing the other. 

"But I - " He tilts his head, shifting to sit next to the other against the tree. "There's no such thing as no one likes me. Everyone has someone who likes them, or at least someone who's willing to like just about anyone. Don't be so hard on yourself, darling. Maybe if you worried a bit less it would be easier."

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"Fuck if I know, seems like people want all sorts to be their Valentine’s." He shrugs and appraises the other. "You seem like the cute in a bit of an awkward way sort, loads of people go for that." He half grins at the other. "Someone to take care of and all that jazz. " The other seems so upset by the barest hints of innuendo he’d slipped into the last comment that he finds himself somewhat amused, but damn, it’s not like he was asking for details. He was just making a joke. He raises his brows. "Maybe you ought to try and find one."

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

"Thanks," Bruce supposed. "I actually think I’ve been called that before. I apparently come off in a very specific way to everyone." That was interesting. Sounded experiment-worthy. He’d have to try that.

"Relationships? Valentines? Not really my area of expertise," Bruce admitted, smirking. "Unless you’re suggesting my Valentine be my Potions homework. That might work out better than an actual person." Boy or girl didn’t matter to him, but he found he couldn’t hold very well-thought out conversations with either gender. "I don’t count on even getting married, so I really don’t try that hard. I’ve had a girlfriend before. It ended…really badly." Bruce sighed. "I’d rather it didn’t happen again."

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"Getting married?" He raises a brow, slight shock gracing his face,. "Well darling, no one is talking about that. Just you know, some distraction, something...fun? Someone you like?" He shrugs his shoulders. "Disasters, I think are unavoidable, the key is to not really get that involved." He flashes his teeth at Bruce. "It's the feelings that make everything shatter in your face. I think you're quite safe there with potions homework.": He eyes the other consideringly. "Or not. What went wrong with your last one?"

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

A light frown creases his face as he pours the potion, looking down from the other’s flinching and hissing. When Bruce speaks though, he brings his eyes back from where they’d been tracing the snow, head tilting. There’s a strange kind of honest expression on his face as he surveys the other silently for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “No one ever gets used to pain.” The blonde’s gaze closes off again to a degree. “And you shouldn’t want to either.” He’s being hypocritical, but he doesn’t like how it sounds when someone else says it, doesn’t like to hear the sentiment voiced when he thinks the same thing. 

The other’s wound has healed slowly, thin layers of skin knitting themselves, one over the other and he reaches for the bottle again, ready to drop another bit of potion on the remaining cuts. 

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

"I know," Bruce admits, shutting his eyes against a strong burning sensation on his healing wound, digging his fingernails into his palms until it stopped. "It would be nice, though." What with the bullies at school shoving him around and hexing him for being a Mudblood (halfblood, really, but that didn’t seem to matter to them) and his dad at home who did far worse to Bruce for simply having any magical blood at all, it would be much more pleasant if he could just get used to all of the pain.

He decided not to think about it, too afraid of Balthazar knowing anything, and kept with the more pleasant conversation. “Er…” He remembered too late that any conversation at all was not his forte. “Well…what are your plans for later in the week? It’s almost Valentine’s Day. Thinking about anyone?” Oh, that sounded like… Bruce corrected himself. “I- I mean, not like that, I just meant- I just meant as conversation, I didn’t mean like that-“

And people wondered why he didn’t have any friends.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

His eyes narrow slightly at the abrupt change in conversation, but there’s nothing he can say exactly. Nothing to justify the slight curiosity he feels curling through him that tells him there’s more to the story than meets the eye. A working knowledge of dittany…bandages on him…it all seems a bit…suspicious.

Balthazar sits back, chuckling a little as the other trips over his words though, and allows the subject to be changed. “Not really anyone that I’m supposed to be thinking about, in one sense or another.” His lip half curls and he shakes his head, not quite story book attractions he’s managed to rack up. “So in that sense, plan less. How about you?” He tilts his head smirking. “Anyone you’re thinking of?” Innuendo curls around the word.

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

He felt relief wash over him like a cool shower when the subject switched successfully, but a blush was forced to his cheeks at the crude innuendo. “Who, me?” It seemed a bit ridiculous when he thought about it, someone wanting to be his Valentine. “Of course not. Who would want to be my Valentine?” Bruce shook his head. “If you couldn’t already tell, I’m not exactly what you would call ‘boyfriend material’.” Bruce did not think highly of himself. Honestly, he preferred not to think about himself at all; it made him upset. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good subject change after all.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"Fuck if I know, seems like people want all sorts to be their Valentine's." He shrugs and appraises the other. "You seem like the cute in a bit of an awkward way sort, loads of people go for that." He half grins at the other. "Someone to take care of and all that jazz. " The other seems so upset by the barest hints of innuendo he'd slipped into the last comment that he finds himself somewhat amused, but damn, it's not like he was asking for details. He was just making a joke. He raises his brows. "Maybe you ought to try and find one."

[sheisnobodysmeat]

So who else is joining in on the 13HourDevour?

[nbchannibal]

*raises hand importantly*

[nbchannibal]

February 28… Don’t forget.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

ELFJDASKLKJFLDSKAFJASLDKFJASDDFADFDFDFASDFJDAS;FD;LF A 

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Ice and Blood - Moriarty and Balth

[thatswhatwizardsdo-blog]

Jim laughs as he’s tossed against the snow, laying there a moment. “Oh getting rough with me? My my Balthazar.” Jim sits up, making himself comfortable in the snow as he watches the black tendrils slowly dig and cut away at Balthazar. 

The summoning spell has Jim irritated more then anything, book flying towards Balthazar, but it never gets to him, the black tendrils shooting up, smacking the book back in Jim’s direction, to which he stands, plucking it up and nearing Balthazar again as the black mass’ efforts to harm Balthazar intensify, creeping up his legs and back. 

"Resisting fuels it you know, makes it want to hurt you more," he purred, reaching out to stroke the black substance almost lovingly. "Honestly you should’ve just turn and went back to the castle. But I suppose that’ll be your mistake to deal with." He reaching in, symbols glowing faintly on his arm as he grabbed Balthazar by the hair, tugging him close, the black tentacles solidifying as they creep up Balthazar’s neck. 

"We had such a good time before, Balthazar, why are you trying to stop me?" Jim pouted before bursting out laughing all together. 

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"Because." He growls out at the other, fighting the substance even as it ensnares him more fully, the tendrils rooting his feet to the ground, pinning his arms to his sides and pulling them slightly behind his back, growing more muscular and less slimy with every passing second. "You're fucking insane." His lip curls into a smirk. "And you like it when I try to stop you, I know that you do." He tilts his head, a low snarl still in his throat. "So you can get your kicks and maybe just maybe I can prevent us all from being dead in the morning, seems like a good deal to me." The mass encases him with every passing moment, he feels it even through the fabric of his jacket, climbing and cutting, wrapping and squeezing, it settles twistingly at the base of his neck where it finds bared flesh and burrows into it, pain and pressure.

He leans forward in the semi bonds, the shivers that Moriarty's fingers send through his spine undeniable, but he ignores them for the moment, still trying to swing his wand through the air, whispering another spell that sends Moriarty flying back to the snow. The black mass steals the wand next though, wrenches it out from his fingertips and he shrugs his shoulders, despite the slight fear the prickles, the dislike of being disarmed, and waits. A surge of something half smug twists through him when he sees there's a trickle of blood along Moriarty's cheek, but it's not enough to stop the groan of pain as more of the ooze finds skin, ripping at fabric and shoving it aside. 

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

A light frown creases his face as he pours the potion, looking down from the other’s flinching and hissing. When Bruce speaks though, he brings his eyes back from where they’d been tracing the snow, head tilting. There’s a strange kind of honest expression on his face as he surveys the other silently for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “No one ever gets used to pain.” The blonde’s gaze closes off again to a degree. “And you shouldn’t want to either.” He’s being hypocritical, but he doesn’t like how it sounds when someone else says it, doesn’t like to hear the sentiment voiced when he thinks the same thing. 

The other’s wound has healed slowly, thin layers of skin knitting themselves, one over the other and he reaches for the bottle again, ready to drop another bit of potion on the remaining cuts. 

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

"I know," Bruce admits, shutting his eyes against a strong burning sensation on his healing wound, digging his fingernails into his palms until it stopped. "It would be nice, though." What with the bullies at school shoving him around and hexing him for being a Mudblood (halfblood, really, but that didn’t seem to matter to them) and his dad at home who did far worse to Bruce for simply having any magical blood at all, it would be much more pleasant if he could just get used to all of the pain.

He decided not to think about it, too afraid of Balthazar knowing anything, and kept with the more pleasant conversation. “Er…” He remembered too late that any conversation at all was not his forte. “Well…what are your plans for later in the week? It’s almost Valentine’s Day. Thinking about anyone?” Oh, that sounded like… Bruce corrected himself. “I- I mean, not like that, I just meant- I just meant as conversation, I didn’t mean like that-“

And people wondered why he didn’t have any friends.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

His eyes narrow slightly at the abrupt change in conversation, but there's nothing he can say exactly. Nothing to justify the slight curiosity he feels curling through him that tells him there's more to the story than meets the eye. A working knowledge of dittany...bandages on him...it all seems a bit...suspicious.

Balthazar sits back, chuckling a little as the other trips over his words though, and allows the subject to be changed. "Not really anyone that I'm supposed to be thinking about, in one sense or another." His lip half curls and he shakes his head, not quite story book attractions he's managed to rack up. "So in that sense, plan less. How about you?" He tilts his head smirking. "Anyone you're thinking of?" Innuendo curls around the word.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Bleeding Hearts || Cas and Balth

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

He stands there breathing heavily, staring out for a moment, and then moves, moves faster than he should be able to by any rights, the adrenaline spiking, his eyes flashing, reaches for Cas even though the touch makes his skin crawl and pulls him up to his feet, pushes him back against the wall, pins him there. 

"What the hell do you think I am?" There’s a barely contained scream in the word. "Why would you think I’d want that, I - " His eyes close but he doesn’t relent. "It’s not about the pain, Cas, the pain doesn’t matter, that’s not what you did to me. That’s just the consequence. I’d rip out your heart too, if I thought I had it."

His head bows a little and he leans forward, voice sinking, pleading almost. “Why do you have to do that?” It’s still snarling though, like a cornered wild animal, his hands are wrapped in Cas’s shirt and he shakes him. “Why can’t I just be angry at you, Cas? Why can’t you just let me be angry at you? I deserve that, don’t I? Let me be angry, don’t just fall on your knees, stand your ground, defend yourself, let me tear you apart if that’s what you want.” He’s still shaking, too close, words slurring together. “I just wanted you to be there, that’s all I wanted.”

[straponmyangelwings]

Castiel waits for the strike to come when he’s shoved onto the wall, but it never does. He’d shut his eyes in preparation, but when it doesn’t come he slowly opens them to Balthazar’s barely contained scream. Every part of him is shattered and sad and he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t know how to fix what he’s done to Balthazar.

"Because you’re hurting, and I just want you to be better." He says at Balthazar’s question. "I want to help but I don’t know how, apparently all I wish to do is wrong, so," he says plainly, because it is incredibly obvious to him at this point.

As Balthazar leans forward his brows furrow. “Be angry with me,” he says, saying nothing to being shaken. “Be angry Balthazar. I don’t know what you’d have me do, lash out at you to warrant that treatment when it feels I already have” He makes a mental note regardless not to be so pathetic in his actions, but he can’t bring himself to goad Balthazar into action.

"I am here, I just," Castiel trails off before shutting his eyes. "I just thought what I was doing was the right thing."

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"You broke my trust, Cas." He manages through gritted teeth, the words burn him as much as the wounds do, wear holes into the barely stable defenses he's tried to cobble together. "I can pretend it doesn't matter, that I understand." All his words are unsteady, lurching higher and than lower, he sounds insane, he knows he sounds insane, but he can't help it, can't control it. "And now - " His fingers tighten into the cloth of Cas's shirt, drag and twist. "And here - " His breaths are moist and ragged, hurtling unevenly through his chest, mixing with shallow laughter as he struggles to keep afloat. He shakes his head, the sounds still pouring out of it.

"I do, Cas." He leans in a little more, whispers conspiratorially. "I do understand. You felt bad, your rosy view of the universe all torn to pieces, and you thought if only you could save me. But you can't, can't, can't." His fingers shake, tremors running through them. "You can't save me Cas, there are too many smashed up, little, pieces that will never go back together right. You couldn't do that, not even if you cared enough to put me first on your list." He tilts his head, there's a kind of emptiness playing through the blue of his eyes, something with raw edges that are barely hidden. "And no one ever cares enough to do that, not the people who are meant to have to, not the people who I fuck, who fuck me, and certainly Cassy, not you." 

His eyes drag over to Cas's. "But I didn't ask you to, did I, to fix me? Didn't beg that of you, even though, fuck, Cas, fuck, I wanted to, you cannot even imagine how much, how much I wanted to have someone give a damn enough to try." He breaks off, quivering. "But that's not for me, I know that, I use and I get used and I don't expect anything else." There's only silence for a moment, only his rattling breaths in the emptiness of the room. "You're not here, Cas, not enough, and if you want to pretend like going to the headmaster means you did your part, if that's what makes you able to go on with everything else without having to think about me anymore, than do whatever pleases you. But what you did, it was a half baked, stupid, move and you cannot have been naive enough to actually think it would lead to ANYTHING but this. You did it for yourself, Cas, not for me, because you wanted to help, because you wanted to try and fix it. But that's not it, that's not what's going to help, that's not what I needed from you, it's only what you needed for yourself.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Bleeding Hearts || Cas and Balth

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

He hates deep down that Cas is crying, hates that he hates it, that he still can’t break the feelings, even after this, even after everything, and again, even still, even now, when it’s his turn to be hurting, he hurts for someone else.

"I told you how you could help, Cas." He’s still shaking, his hands coming up to wrap around his body as it shudders, doubling over for a moment, as he sways. "I told you and you didn’t listen." His own furious tears rim the edges of his eyes, every second breath skipping accidentally, an uneven rhythm of air. "I just wanted someone to be there, that’s all I wanted, Cas, that’s all I wanted. I wanted to have someone to hold me and tell me it would be okay, someone else that could know, so I wouldn’t have to -" His breath falters and the words whisper out of him. "So I wouldn’t have to do this alone anymore. That’s all I wanted, that’s all I asked from you."

He moves away from Cas’s hands even though they don’t touch him, dodges to the side. “But you couldn’t let me have that, could you? I told you.” The anger surges in again, dances on his lips, through his tongue. “I begged you, fuck.” He turns away. “Fuck I wanted to trust you so badly, but you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t hang in there for me, no one ever can.” His fingers dig into his arms, burrow his own bruises into the skin because he can’t help it, he just wants to tear his skin off, wants to go so deep it stops hurting altogether because there’s nothing left to hurt. “I don’t need you to heal me.” His words are frozen as he looks back. “Don’t you fucking get it, Cas. It’s not about the bruises, it doesn’t matter, I don’t care, do you think this is the worst it’s gotten, here, at Hogwarts?” He lets out a hacking laugh. “Foolish doesn’t suit you, Cas. He had no choice but to make it quick. That doesn’t matter. But you asked me Cas, you made me tell you what was wrong, and I wanted to, I swear to you, I wanted to so damn much, because I CAN’T ON MY OWN ANYMORE."  The words echo out of him louder than he intended, the silence suddenly deafening, closing in around him, and he drops off from them, laughing and gasping, desperate to fill it, his hair flinging wildly as he shakes his head. "but you’ve made me remember why I don’t. It always just hurts more in the end. I can’t hurt more, Cas. I can’t."

[straponmyangelwings]

He is there, wants to be there, always wished to be there for Balthazar. Wanted to be that friend he could go to when things happen, for comfort, for help, but what has he done. Nothing. Just ruined everything.  As per usual.  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry,” he whispers over and over again. “Please. I didn’t mean to,” his voice was broken and apologetic.

"I want to be there for you Balthazar. I do, I swear, I just, I couldn’t bare the thought of this happening to you and doing nothing about it, going on blindly, just pretending everything was okay, tell you it was okay even if it really wasn’t." He frowns, see the hurt and anger in Balthazar and it has him hating himself more.

"I understand why you’re upset, I don’t blame you for being upset. Be upset. I just, how can I fix it, how can I make it better. I want to, please." It’s then he sinks to his knees in front of Balthazar, looking up to him with wide eyes. "What can I do Balthazar please, y-you can hurt me, hit me, do anything, I caused this to happen to you, then do the same for me. I deserve it, I have for awhile honestly. Balthazar I am here for you. I am. Please."

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

He stands there breathing heavily, staring out for a moment, and then moves, moves faster than he should be able to by any rights, the adrenaline spiking, his eyes flashing, reaches for Cas even though the touch makes his skin crawl and pulls him up to his feet, pushes him back against the wall, pins him there. 

"What the hell do you think I am?" There's a barely contained scream in the word. "Why would you think I'd want that, I - " His eyes close but he doesn't relent. "It's not about the pain, Cas, the pain doesn't matter, that's not what you did to me. That's just the consequence. I'd rip out your heart too, if I thought I had it."

His head bows a little and he leans forward, voice sinking, pleading almost. "Why do you have to do that?" It's still snarling though, like a cornered wild animal, his hands are wrapped in Cas's shirt and he shakes him. "Why can't I just be angry at you, Cas? Why can't you just let me be angry at you? I deserve that, don't I? Let me be angry, don't just fall on your knees, stand your ground, defend yourself, let me tear you apart if that's what you want." He's still shaking, too close, words slurring together. "I just wanted you to be there, that's all I wanted."

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Bleeding Hearts || Cas and Balth

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

He flinches away from the touch with a shudder that’s not even meant to cause the look of pain that crosses Cas’s face, he just can’t can’t be touched right now, not a single part of him whole enough for that, ready to feel flesh on flesh. He’ll crave it later, like a fever, when all of this has simmered down and he’s alone and empty, curled up on his bed, crave proximity, want nothing more than a hand on his body. But now, so soon after, even being near another living thing is grating, pushes him deeper into the maddened headspace. 

"You assume?” His voice is half incredulous, half mocking, eyes wild as he turns himself towards Cas finally, into the dim, reddish, light. His eye is black and swollen, and there are finger shaped bruises that dig purple and red into his skin, blend into where his wrist has swollen and his shirt is torn It’s black, the shirt he’s wearing, but if he wrung it, he’s sure it would run red. “I don’t know, Cas.” The sarcasm drips from his tongue, the panicked smile still on his lips. “You tell me. Do I look happy now?” He can’t help half stepping forward, he feels too out of his body, too out of his mind. “Have you successfully eased my pain? Is this what you were hoping for when you did exactly what I begged you not to do?”  

[straponmyangelwings]

Castiel’s hand shoots away from Balthazar as he flinches away. He helplessly watched as Balthazar finally turns to him and he unconsciously brings his hands over his mouth. Balthazar bruised beaten and bloody is one of the worst things to think about, but to see?

As Balthazar steps forward he takes a step back before stopping himself. This is Balthazar, angry, bleeding, beaten Balthazar, but still his friend. “No, Balthazar, please, i’m sorry,” he feels tears prick at his eyes for what he’s done. Unintentionally, but still done because of his foolish actions.

"I-I just," he feels words become a struggle to speak. "I just wanted to help. I-I didn’t," he shakes his head, looking him over but wanting to not all the same. "I didn’t mean to do this to you I didn’t I swear I-I thought telling would help I just wanted you to be okay," he knows he’s repeating himself, just wants Balthazar to hear it, to understand, to know it’s truth, even if he hates him.

"P-Please I do want to help you I do, what can I do to make you feel any better i’ll do anything I swear," Castiel says, moving in to touch Balthazar again but he remembers the flinching and so his hands simply hover in the air before he starts wringing them. "Please. P-Perhaps I can heal you? O-Or, I don’t know, anything." The offer he made to Dean about taking his anger out on him sits on his tongue, ready to offer it to Balthazar.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

He hates deep down that Cas is crying, hates that he hates it, that he still can't break the feelings, even after this, even after everything, and again, even still, even now, when it's his turn to be hurting, he hurts for someone else.

"I told you how you could help, Cas." He's still shaking, his hands coming up to wrap around his body as it shudders, doubling over for a moment, as he sways. "I told you and you didn't listen." His own furious tears rim the edges of his eyes, every second breath skipping accidentally, an uneven rhythm of air. "I just wanted someone to be there, that's all I wanted, Cas, that's all I wanted. I wanted to have someone to hold me and tell me it would be okay, someone else that could know, so I wouldn't have to -" His breath falters and the words whisper out of him. "So I wouldn't have to do this alone anymore. That's all I wanted, that's all I asked from you."

He moves away from Cas's hands even though they don't touch him, dodges to the side. "But you couldn't let me have that, could you? I told you." The anger surges in again, dances on his lips, through his tongue. "I begged you, fuck." He turns away. "Fuck I wanted to trust you so badly, but you couldn't do it, you couldn't hang in there for me, no one ever can." His fingers dig into his arms, burrow his own bruises into the skin because he can't help it, he just wants to tear his skin off, wants to go so deep it stops hurting altogether because there's nothing left to hurt. "I don't need you to heal me." His words are frozen as he looks back. "Don't you fucking get it, Cas. It's not about the bruises, it doesn't matter, I don't care, do you think this is the worst it's gotten, here, at Hogwarts?" He lets out a hacking laugh. "Foolish doesn't suit you, Cas. He had no choice but to make it quick. That doesn't matter. But you asked me Cas, you made me tell you what was wrong, and I wanted to, I swear to you, I wanted to so damn much, because I CAN'T ON MY OWN ANYMORE."  The words echo out of him louder than he intended, the silence suddenly deafening, closing in around him, and he drops off from them, laughing and gasping, desperate to fill it, his hair flinging wildly as he shakes his head. "but you've made me remember why I don't. It always just hurts more in the end. I can't hurt more, Cas. I can't."

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Bleeding Hearts || Cas and Balth

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"But you did." He doesn’t turn to look at Cas, still talks to the wall, still looks at the dirty flecks of blood on the wall rather than go and find the blue of the other’s gaze. It barely registers that he’s shaking now, that his fists are clenching and his voice is wavering with anger. "You had to have, you couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t, not something that just accidentally slips out of your mouth in conversation, is it?"

"I don’t think I’ve asked too much of you, have I, Cas? I think I’ve been kind. When you ran away without warning, after I’d spent all evening comforting you, I let you alone. When you said you wanted to be friends, I let you have that. But I thought, Cas, I thought you were different. Look -" The words are rough, something like a howl barely contained in them. "Look Cas, I don’t trust people, okay? That’s not me, I don’t let them in. I’ve never had my parents, never had friends. But I thought -" An unpleasant smirk twists his lips even though Cas can’t see it. "I thought, I could have you." The words drop into a whisper, something aching and contorted in it before they surge up again. "I thought I could have you and I gave you something of me, because you asked, because I  wanted to so badly, you can’t even imagine.”

He shakes his head, too hard, pain slamming through him, as though to clear it, as though to rid himself of whatever is clutching him, but he can’t.

"Why did you have to do it, Cas, why did you have to break that, why did you have to take it away?" He’d wanted so badly to trust someone, to have another soul to turn to, who could understand, but now, after this, it floats broken around him like the shards of the paper hearts strewn on the floor.

[straponmyangelwings]

Everything Balthazar was saying was practically beating him into the ground. It dawned on him then. Slowly but surely and he realized what a mistake he’d made. There was only one thing Balthazar had trusted him with that he’d told no one else.

He can see the pain in Balthazar’s body language and though he’s frightened, he’s worried, he’s ashamed he doesn’t want him anymore hurt then he appears to be.

He moved to Balthazar’s side. “Balthazar, please, w-what happened? I just,” Castiel’s mouth opens and closes uselessly before his shoulders sag and he simply pleads. “You were hurting Balthazar, I hated seeing you that way, I just thought telling the headmistress would do something, would help.”

He lifts a hand, aiming to rest it on the others shoulder. “I am here Balthazar, I am, I just wished for you to be better, to be happy? I,” he trailed off, wincing at the answer he knows he’s probably going to get, “assume it did not turn out that way.”

How foolish is he. He just wanted to help the other, but he supposes that’s the story of his life, trying to help and ruining things regardless. First Dean, then Balthazar, he’s hurting the people he really cares about with some misguided notion that he’s doing good. So stupid.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

He flinches away from the touch with a shudder that's not even meant to cause the look of pain that crosses Cas's face, he just can't can't be touched right now, not a single part of him whole enough for that, ready to feel flesh on flesh. He'll crave it later, like a fever, when all of this has simmered down and he's alone and empty, curled up on his bed, crave proximity, want nothing more than a hand on his body. But now, so soon after, even being near another living thing is grating, pushes him deeper into the maddened headspace. 

"You assume?" His voice is half incredulous, half mocking, eyes wild as he turns himself towards Cas finally, into the dim, reddish, light. His eye is black and swollen, and there are finger shaped bruises that dig purple and red into his skin, blend into where his wrist has swollen and his shirt is torn It's black, the shirt he's wearing, but if he wrung it, he's sure it would run red. "I don't know, Cas." The sarcasm drips from his tongue, the panicked smile still on his lips. "You tell me. Do I look happy now?" He can't help half stepping forward, he feels too out of his body, too out of his mind. "Have you successfully eased my pain? Is this what you were hoping for when you did exactly what I begged you not to do?"  

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Bleeding Hearts || Cas and Balth

[straponmyangelwings]

The note from Balthazar is somewhat out of nowhere, he feels like he hasn’t seen or spoken to him since that night out in the forest. He doesn’t think anything of it, don’t even begin to think he’s done anything at this point.

He heads for the room and a slow creeping feeling starts into him. He doesn’t know exactly what it is, but he feels fear and hesitance and confusion at the fact he’s feeling this. The hall is deathly quiet, and it takes a moment to actually find where Balthazar is, as it’s just as silent.

The smell of blood hits Castiel and for a moment fear shoots through him, not for himself, but for Balthazar, who stands stoic, facing away from the door, and he swears he sees blood on his back, he certainly can smell it.

"Balthazar?" He questions, slowly moving in, worry in his furrowed brows as he does so, reaching out for the other. "Balthazar, are you alright?"

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

The sound of Cas’s voice makes him stiffen, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t turn to face the other. His breaths speed up for a moment, and then slow just as quickly, too slow. 

"Tell me, Cas." He says more to the wall than to the other, doesn’t think he can turn around and look at him right now, his bones seem to have dug roots right into the ground, his muscles too tense. The sound of his voice rings eerie, it comes out hoarse and dark, scraped and raw, hollow like it hasn’t been used in eternities, like he’s dragging it out of somewhere else, somewhere not himself. "What did you think was going to happen? Think we’d all see the error of our ways, did you? Hold hands, perhaps? Hug, a little?" 

There’s icy anger threading through his tone, the taint of hurt he can’t quite keep out skirting in and out of it. 

"Perhaps you thought I was joking, was that it? Exaggerating in some pathetic attempt for attention. Or maybe." The words are curled into something more like a hiss now. "You just didn’t think about me at all, too busy thinking about you." There’s an almost maddened smile that touches his lips as he looks up at nothing at all. "Nothing new there I suppose." 

[straponmyangelwings]

The slow turn has Castiel’s hackles rising already, eyes going wide. His voice is dark and cold, compared to how he usually speaks to him, caring and friendly. It’s practically a punch with how different it is.

It’s hurt and anger and it hurts, just hearing it, even if he doesn’t know why. “Balthazar?” He says quietly, afraid. Something he thought he’d never feel with Balthazar.

He’s unconsciously curling into himself, staring on with wide eyed, wanting to leave but too confused to actually do so. “Thinking about me?” He finally says. “W-What are you talking about Balthazar, please, just tell me, what have I done? Whatever it was I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I really really didn’t mean to please don’t be upset with me Balthazar.”

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"But you did." He doesn't turn to look at Cas, still talks to the wall, still looks at the dirty flecks of blood on the wall rather than go and find the blue of the other's gaze. It barely registers that he's shaking now, that his fists are clenching and his voice is wavering with anger. "You had to have, you couldn't have done it if you hadn't, not something that just accidentally slips out of your mouth in conversation, is it?"

"I don't think I've asked too much of you, have I, Cas? I think I've been kind. When you ran away without warning, after I'd spent all evening comforting you, I let you alone. When you said you wanted to be friends, I let you have that. But I thought, Cas, I thought you were different. Look -" The words are rough, something like a howl barely contained in them. "Look Cas, I don't trust people, okay? That's not me, I don't let them in. I've never had my parents, never had friends. But I thought -" An unpleasant smirk twists his lips even though Cas can't see it. "I thought, I could have you." The words drop into a whisper, something aching and contorted in it before they surge up again. "I thought I could have you and I gave you something of me, because you asked, because I  wanted to so badly, you can't even imagine."

He shakes his head, too hard, pain slamming through him, as though to clear it, as though to rid himself of whatever is clutching him, but he can't.

"Why did you have to do it, Cas, why did you have to break that, why did you have to take it away?" He'd wanted so badly to trust someone, to have another soul to turn to, who could understand, but now, after this, it floats broken around him like the shards of the paper hearts strewn on the floor.

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Bleeding Hearts || Cas and Balth

He stands silently in the darkening room, the emptiness still echoing with screams. He wants to scream again, now, loudly, until he’s hoarse and his whole body collapses with lack of breath. But it’s stuck in his throat, tearing into the skin there, seeping back into him instead of flying out; consumed into the fury that courses through his veins and numbs him.

Screaming would be ill advised, at any rate, the silencing spells long worn off, and he doesn’t think he has the energy to cast them again, doesn’t think he has the brain power to walk over to the corner where his wand has been tossed and put coherent words together, rather thinks the whole world might fall apart if he does anything but stand here and breathe. His whole body feels bruised, every cell of it. He should have known there was no such thing as safe.

The torches cast dark shadows across the room, their throbbing light is harsh, angry, and it’s just enough to show the chairs that have been smashed all around, the shreds of white and red and pink hearts that had been torn up in the bevy of spells cast, by the magic that lingers dark and cold in the air. It had been decorated for Valentine’s Day, his lip curls, the pain it shoots through him ignored. How positively darling. As though he needs anymore reminder that no one gives a fuck. Well at least the scarlet splatters match the overall theme,wouldn’t want to ruin the appearance, to forget to pretend for a moment like not everything was falling to pieces. 

Every time, every damn time, he forgets how bad it hurts, how it slays right through him, and he hadn’t been ready this time, hadn’t had a moment to go between the frozen smiles with the headmaster to his hair being yanked sharply and his body torn apart.

The anger swells in him, threatens to tear him apart, he shouldn’t have sent that message to Cas telling him where he was and to come, shouldn’t have done it, rationally, he knows that, but he’s feeling self destructive, feeling those urges that had taken him into those grimy little back room taverns and gotten him fucked over in all ways. They swell up inside him, whisper devious, demented, things in his brain, things he craves but hates. He doesn’t think straight when he’s like this, doesn’t think at all, only wants to destroy himself, the fury worse than alcohol, worse than anything. He’s going to regret what he does, but he’s hurtling down the path and there’s no stopping it.

He tries, doesn’t he? He gives and he gives, more than he should, more than he gets back, to everyone, to everything, and in the end, it still ends with him bleeding in the corner. Why should he always hurt? He’d wanted Cas, and that had hurt, and he’d trusted Cas, and that hurts more. And now he thinks maybe he doesn’t want any of it at all, not from Cas, not from anyone, except that he does, but he’s so twisted up right now it all feels the same. 

He’s facing away from the door, staring at the wall, his hair in his face, shoulders hunched, still bleeding welts rip through his shirt and the blood smells rankly in the air. He doesn’t bother to turn around though, doesn’t try to clean it up, just bleed and breathes and waits. 

Dark, he feels dark.

[straponmyangelwings]

The note from Balthazar is somewhat out of nowhere, he feels like he hasn’t seen or spoken to him since that night out in the forest. He doesn’t think anything of it, don’t even begin to think he’s done anything at this point.

He heads for the room and a slow creeping feeling starts into him. He doesn’t know exactly what it is, but he feels fear and hesitance and confusion at the fact he’s feeling this. The hall is deathly quiet, and it takes a moment to actually find where Balthazar is, as it’s just as silent.

The smell of blood hits Castiel and for a moment fear shoots through him, not for himself, but for Balthazar, who stands stoic, facing away from the door, and he swears he sees blood on his back, he certainly can smell it.

"Balthazar?" He questions, slowly moving in, worry in his furrowed brows as he does so, reaching out for the other. "Balthazar, are you alright?"

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

The sound of Cas's voice makes him stiffen, but he doesn't move, doesn't turn to face the other. His breaths speed up for a moment, and then slow just as quickly, too slow. 

"Tell me, Cas." He says more to the wall than to the other, doesn't think he can turn around and look at him right now, his bones seem to have dug roots right into the ground, his muscles too tense. The sound of his voice rings eerie, it comes out hoarse and dark, scraped and raw, hollow like it hasn't been used in eternities, like he's dragging it out of somewhere else, somewhere not himself. "What did you think was going to happen? Think we'd all see the error of our ways, did you? Hold hands, perhaps? Hug, a little?" 

There's icy anger threading through his tone, the taint of hurt he can't quite keep out skirting in and out of it. 

"Perhaps you thought I was joking, was that it? Exaggerating in some pathetic attempt for attention. Or maybe." The words are curled into something more like a hiss now. "You just didn't think about me at all, too busy thinking about you." There's an almost maddened smile that touches his lips as he looks up at nothing at all. "Nothing new there I suppose." 

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Bleeding Hearts || Cas and Balth

He stands silently in the darkening room, the emptiness still echoing with screams. He wants to scream again, now, loudly, until he's hoarse and his whole body collapses with lack of breath. But it's stuck in his throat, tearing into the skin there, seeping back into him instead of flying out; consumed into the fury that courses through his veins and numbs him.

Screaming would be ill advised, at any rate, the silencing spells long worn off, and he doesn't think he has the energy to cast them again, doesn't think he has the brain power to walk over to the corner where his wand has been tossed and put coherent words together, rather thinks the whole world might fall apart if he does anything but stand here and breathe. His whole body feels bruised, every cell of it. He should have known there was no such thing as safe.

The torches cast dark shadows across the room, their throbbing light is harsh, angry, and it's just enough to show the chairs that have been smashed all around, the shreds of white and red and pink hearts that had been torn up in the bevy of spells cast, by the magic that lingers dark and cold in the air. It had been decorated for Valentine's Day, his lip curls, the pain it shoots through him ignored. How positively darling. As though he needs anymore reminder that no one gives a fuck. Well at least the scarlet splatters match the overall theme,wouldn't want to ruin the appearance, to forget to pretend for a moment like not everything was falling to pieces. 

Every time, every damn time, he forgets how bad it hurts, how it slays right through him, and he hadn't been ready this time, hadn't had a moment to go between the frozen smiles with the headmaster to his hair being yanked sharply and his body torn apart.

The anger swells in him, threatens to tear him apart, he shouldn't have sent that message to Cas telling him where he was and to come, shouldn't have done it, rationally, he knows that, but he's feeling self destructive, feeling those urges that had taken him into those grimy little back room taverns and gotten him fucked over in all ways. They swell up inside him, whisper devious, demented, things in his brain, things he craves but hates. He doesn't think straight when he's like this, doesn't think at all, only wants to destroy himself, the fury worse than alcohol, worse than anything. He's going to regret what he does, but he's hurtling down the path and there's no stopping it.

He tries, doesn't he? He gives and he gives, more than he should, more than he gets back, to everyone, to everything, and in the end, it still ends with him bleeding in the corner. Why should he always hurt? He'd wanted Cas, and that had hurt, and he'd trusted Cas, and that hurts more. And now he thinks maybe he doesn't want any of it at all, not from Cas, not from anyone, except that he does, but he's so twisted up right now it all feels the same. 

He's facing away from the door, staring at the wall, his hair in his face, shoulders hunched, still bleeding welts rip through his shirt and the blood smells rankly in the air. He doesn't bother to turn around though, doesn't try to clean it up, just bleed and breathes and waits. 

Dark, he feels dark.

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

  Balthazar shakes his head, “No, no - don’t be sorry.” He hadn’t meant to snap, it’s just, people manage to underestimate him left and right, but he knows what he’s doing here and he wants to help. “I didn’t mean to -” He peers over at him, pausing as he processes the words. “Hang on Madame Pomfery gave you these?” He cocks his head. “Just in case? That doesn’t sound much like her.

God knows, when he couldn’t…or wouldn’t rather, give her a successfully convincing reason why he was in pain, he ended up with exactly nothing to show for his efforts. “Are you sure clumsy quite covers it?” 

He’s uncorking the vial meanwhile, carefully letting a drop of the potion seal the wound, wincing a little as it starts to bubble.

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

Bruce didn’t like revealing things about himself, didn’t like being the center of attention, especially if it was out of pity. Balthazar, however didn’t seem like the pitying type. Still, the Ravenclaw liked to keep to himself. He held Balthazar’s gaze before dropping it, staring down at his wounds instead. “She- she had her hands full with sick students one year, so when I went to her with wounds, she just gave me a bottle of that,” he nodded at the potion in the other boy’s hands,”and told me what to do. I’ve learned how to make it on my own, now.” He didn’t add in that he used it a lot more than he should have, what with the near sadistic purebloods that roamed the halls.

Bruce wasn’t as prepared as he wanted to be when the potion was spilled onto his wound. He cried out,”Ah!” once, and then went quiet, save for pained hisses and muffled whimpers. “Sorry,” he breathed, wincing as it bubbled and healed over. “I should be used to it by now.”

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

A light frown creases his face as he pours the potion, looking down from the other's flinching and hissing. When Bruce speaks though, he brings his eyes back from where they'd been tracing the snow, head tilting. There's a strange kind of honest expression on his face as he surveys the other silently for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "No one ever gets used to pain." The blonde's gaze closes off again to a degree. "And you shouldn't want to either." He's being hypocritical, but he doesn't like how it sounds when someone else says it, doesn't like to hear the sentiment voiced when he thinks the same thing. 

The other's wound has healed slowly, thin layers of skin knitting themselves, one over the other and he reaches for the bottle again, ready to drop another bit of potion on the remaining cuts. 

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

"Do you think I’d have offered to patch these up if I didn’t know what I was doing?" He cuts through Bruce’s winding explanations, leaning over himself to examine the wounds."I’m not really dolt enough to mess around with blood on a whim. Trust me - " He looks up at the other and his eyes gleam with something unreadable. "I’ve seen far worse." 

The potion in his hand he considers after a moment. “I think one drop is enough, it’ll heal plenty not to get infected and the rest will scab over naturally in a couple of days. You can find something …less corrosive and fix it when you get back to the castle if you want, but I don’t quite think you want to few drops yourself all the way out here.”

He pauses, “Alright?”

[timebombteam-deactivated2014070]

"Sorry," Bruce apologized at once. "You’re right." If he could stand not making an enemy for once in his life, he would do it. "I did only mean one drop per scratch. They are all bleeding. I know it’s not that bad. I’m only repeating what Madame Pomfrey told me."

No matter how many drops, it would still burn. There was no avoiding the pain, as it was flesh fusing itself back together. “Alright,” he nodded, mentally preparing himself. “Go ahead.”

[utterandcompletefreedom-blog]

Balthazar shakes his head, "No, no - don't be sorry." He hadn't meant to snap, it's just, people manage to underestimate him left and right, but he knows what he's doing here and he wants to help. "I didn't mean to -" He peers over at him, pausing as he processes the words. "Hang on Madame Pomfery gave you these?" He cocks his head. "Just in case? That doesn't sound much like her.

God knows, when he couldn't...or wouldn't rather, give her a successfully convincing reason why he was in pain, he ended up with exactly nothing to show for his efforts. "Are you sure clumsy quite covers it?" 

He's uncorking the vial meanwhile, carefully letting a drop of the potion seal the wound, wincing a little as it starts to bubble.