🔫FutureEdd x reader🔫

**A Rose And His Thorns**

{How apt to have Tord as the photo above o.o}
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     (TW!! Mentions of violence and self harm)
-ANGST!!-

"Oh where to start... I guess the nightmare."

You sat and told him of the vivid nightmare you had the night prior. You told him every detail, every sentence, every feeling, everything.

Throughout your explanation Edd sat and listened. Horrified by the amount of detail you had on the pain aspect of your nightmare, chills shooting up his spine as he tried to fathom such a vivid scene.

When you were done you paused, looking to the man sat beside you for an indication of something. Anger, sadness, understanding, just something.

And you found one: confusion

"Why......why are you having dreams like this? What happened to you at that base??"

A saddened and hallow expression faded onto your features as you looked down.

"That's a pretty long story. You got time?"  You half joked, unsuccessfully trying to lift the mood.

"All the time in the world"

"Well.... It all started a few years ago-

-(3rd pov: 5 years prior)-

Living alone had made you quite an easy target for the Red army, so they had took you hostage during a raid on your small town. Back in those years, civilians captured would normally be given a choice: to join the ranks and live, or decline and be shot dead where you stood. Obviously you had chosen life, begrudgingly "enlisting" into the military group.

For the first half of  your first year you had been terrified. Civvies we're naturally looked down on in the base and treated as last priority.  You were bullied, beaten and terrorised almost everyday during training. Always scared of turning a corner only to be beaten to a pulp by an older soldier.

That is until one faithful day you had accidentally, and literally, ran into the head honcho himself, Tord.

Fearing for your life you fell to the floor, bowing your head as low as it could go and profusely begging for forgiveness. You sat there for a minute before being hoisted up by strong arms, Tord's arms.

He was being scarily nice to you, even going as far as apologising for running into you when it had clearly been you who bumped into him. Brushing off any dirt that had accumulated on your uniform as he handed you the few papers you had accidentally dropped, leaving with a grin soon after.

Sure he scared you, who wouldn't be scared by this tyrant of a man who had slayed hundreds to thousands of people, but you felt comforted for the first time since you had been in this hall hole.

In a sick twisted chain of events you began seeking out the leader, craving that type of kindness, carrying out meaningless tasks for him day in and day out just to get just a morsel of comfort. Which he found quite amusing.

In the beginning Tord was affectionate, he was chivalrous and protective. Keeping you safe from the other soldier's. However, over time he began growing possessive and violent when his demands weren't met.

He'd hit you if you were late to his call or if you had talked to another male without his consent. Bruises were common around your arms from his death like grip. He'd threaten you with knives, guns, explosives, anything. Anything that would instal fear and obedience into you.

You were his dog-a pet if you will. And any dog that betrayed their master would be quick to punishment.

You couldn't even fathom counting the amount of scars that littered your back and arms. Pain was just an ordinary thing you sadly accepted in your miserable life.

That's around where you had met Tom. You two weren't on good terms for quite some time, he was always suspicious of your intentions and you found him intimidating and threatening. It wasn't until a few months into the abuse that you had properly formed a tight bond to the blue wearing male.

He grew confused each and every time you went to the infirmary with wounds, just to run back to the man who inflicted said wounds the very next day.

He would stare in disbelief as you bent forwards and back for the devilish leader as if you were made from silk, only to shrivel into an empty husk. So brittle that a single touch could shatter your entire world.

Oh how many nights he had heard your choked sobs.

After a while something in Tom had switched on, and he wanted answers. He couldn't connect why you put up with so much. What were you gaining from any of this?

So one night he decided to find out for himself, sneaking into your room at night and cornering you against a wall. And you spilled. Out of fear or out of willingness, you didn't know, still don't to this day.

He felt remorse. For the first time in many years he had felt remorse for another person.

From then on Tom would check in on you if he heard your sobs, or patched up any bleeding and sore wounds. And from that an unlikely friendship had bloomed. And this time, it was genuine.

He took care of you the best he could, staying under the radar of Red leader as to not incriminate himself or you. He even introduced you to a long time friend of his, Matt. Who, like Tom, had grown sympathetic towards you.

The rest of that story is basically history, you stayed great friends with Tom and Matt, your only allies in a harsh world. Them helping you if needed while creeping their leader happy. It wasn't an easy task.

Tord on the other hand, had grown even more coldly towards you. Amping up punishments and reveling in your pain more than usual. He even once locked you in a padded cell for a few days with limited food and water just for stumbling in on a meeting.

Your mood hit lower than low. And sadly, that made you do things you weren't proud of. To this day you regret it all.

All the blades, rusted and bloody. Your wrists and thighs marked up. Tom and Matt both scolded you heavily when they found out, but you were too far gone.

In all honesty if you hadn't escaped the base, you would've taken your own life. Just to be over with the pain and agony you placed upon yourself....

{3rd pov end: back to present times}

Edd gingerly grabbed one of your arms as you spoke, pushing the fabric of your long sleeved shirt away from your wrist. The scars ever present against your fair skin.

You didn't want to see his face. See the disappointment that always found its way to anyone's face when they saw. He would just tell you the same thing everyone else did, and it wouldn't help. It never did. Just empty lines

Your eyes stayed plastered to your lap or the floor as shame filled your eyes. However they didn't stay glued to nothing for long, as Edd's hands had started shaking uncontrollably. Being caught off guard by the sensation you whipped your head in his direction.

His dishevelled hair covered his eyes as his head hung low, hands still gripping onto your scarred wrist. He was making a sort of choking sound as his shoulders tensed. Worried for whatever could be happening to the brunette you moved his bangs to the side of his face.

Wait-

Was he....crying?