laura Profile picture
May 19, 2022 30 tweets 4 min read Read on X
so i wrote this little thing based on real life events and thoughts (red flag). it’s been a while since i last wrote something, so if someone reads this, please be kind, it’s written in a rush and i did not proofread it. so here’s a bit of #darkji to spice up your day.
when lwj was but a child, sat in his mother’s lap he remembers thinking he wanted to have all of her and nothing of his father. a passing thought that was easily and quickly disturbed by the warm happiness of finally seeing her.
that thought stayed undisturbed at the back of his mind. until he met wwx.
suddenly he felt his father’s blood running in his veins. something was slowly but surely growing inside him, something wrecked and ugly, that reeked of jealousy, it crawled up his throat, tasted bitter in his mouth, it took one look at wwx and said “mine, mine, /mine/“,
it felt regrettably like greed.
he tried his best to suppress it, to kill the fire that slowly burnt his insides until all that was left was the ashes of his restraint and he caught himself saying “i want to bring someone back to cloud recesses, bring him back and hide him”.
at that moment he was every bit his father’s son.
he couldn’t control it, it was bigger than him, all consuming, but, most importantly, it wasn’t new.
he had seen it before, had watched as it destroyed everything in its way, twisted and insatiable, devouring blindly, always seeking something no one could quite give away.
he had seen his mother withering under his father’s obsession, had witnessed as it got to a point of no return. and, still, it had not been enough to appease the thing that twisted in his stomach, made him nauseous.
and now it was happening again, after so many years of careful taming, of mindful trimming, after being so cautious, it had caught him when he least expected.
he once thought it to be something overwhelmingly suffocating from the beginning, instead he was hit with carefree laughter, incessant teasing, a smile kind but sharp, containing a certain wilderness that could only be described as addicting.
much like his father, he too had come upon an untamed being; much like his father, he too wanted to contain him.
the thing is, lwj was nothing if not persistent, some would even say headstrong, so he decided that if his father’s blood insisted on sticking with him, so would his mother’s.
and so he took everything she ever taught him - the softer, kinder version of her only he and his brother got to see - everything she was, that was kept safe and close to his heart, and brought it forward.
he refused to oblige to the parts of him he didn’t want to acknowledge, the parts that wanted to restrain wwx, instead he chose to set him free,
not drag him to cloud recesses but to beg for him to come willingly, and, when he refused, to watch from the sidelines, to try and protect him from a distance.
then came the day where he regretted that decision. in a dark and cold cave, with wwx, bloodied and hurt, cradled in his arms, he thought it would have been better to have him unhappy than to not have him at all.
he felt the consequences of his every decision, felt it deep in his soul, where his heart recoiled in itself, wanting to disappear, felt it in his own flesh, thirty three times over.
later, much later, when he wakes up everyday to the reassuring weight of wwx on top of him, his breathing even and oh so real, he tries to convince the thing that it got what it wanted,
that it does not need to keep growing, expanding every day, eager to take up more and more space, to conquer and dominate.
he tries and fails as he looks at his husband and feels it swelling, so fast he feels sick, it wants to whisk wwx away - to where? he doesn’t know, he just wants and wants and wants
it wants to bend until his ribs crack open and swallow wwx whole, to keep him inside and hide him, protect him, it always wants more, insatiable in its awakening.
and maybe it’ll burst inside of him, maybe it’ll leave nothing of him behind, maybe it can transform them both into one being, maybe that’s the only way it’ll know peace.
in the end, what scares him the most isn’t the thing that keeps developing, it’s how used he’s gotten to it. he knows wwx would never leave him, just as well as he knows he would never let him.
one night, after they’re tired and breathless, laid side by side, a tangle of limbs and hair and souls, he tells wwx so.
“i’ll never run away” wwx says “there’s nothing that can beat love”
lwj shivers, the thing inside him swells with pride, “/good/“, it says, “let him believe that”.
“my love isn’t kind” lwj whispers, and suddenly he’s a child nested in his mother’s lap, afraid of the time he’ll be away from her.
“you have to trust me” wwx says, sounding as sure as ever.
“i do” lwj answers, not even a heartbeat later. and he does, more than he trusts himself, more than anything.
wwx smiles at him, his eyes glowing under the moonlight with something soft and careless, and kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him, and the thing inside him shrinks ever so slightly.
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