Ramblings of a Dumbass

penis

This is old don't look at me this is a comfort AU

Reich wiped down the counters quickly and nervously. He spared a glance every few seconds at the clock before going back to cleaning. He hoped and hoped that today would be a day where the home phone would ring obnoxiously with a message saying his father would be home late. His shaking hands and dry throat made cleaning harder, the usually mind numbing chore suddenly causing immense anxiety. 

The clock hit 4.

He shook more as he moved from the kitchen to the living room, dragging a duster quickly over the bookshelves and across the tv and then grabbed a semi wet rag to clean off the tables that littered the house. He started mumbling as he cleaned off the coffee table.

"Weimar doesn't have to clean on mondays" he huffed, moving to the table that held up the big box tv.

"Earwyn lets him join a club" he growled, wiping down the screen with more force then needed. "He doesn't suffer consequences" he practically hissed at the red wood table by the door. He took the rag an threw it into the laundry room, grabbing a broom on the way out. He made quick work of sweeping the kitchen and then the living room, accidentally bumping into the book shelf. A picture frame fell and made a loud cracking noise as the glass broke and the pieces laid small and glistening on a photo. 

"Oh god no no no" he whimpered, falling to his knees and barely noticing the small shards that cut into his soft skin. His heart was pounding in his throat as his fingers shook as they made quick work of brushing off all the glass and picking up the photo. 

He took a moment to set aside his pounding anxiety to look at the photo. It wasn't much really, a black and white photo of three people laughing, clearly sitting on a couch and drinking something out of mugs. He didn't recognize two of them, a pretty teenage girl with probably long hair in a messy bun and a boy around the same age with messy, shaggy hair that almost resembled his when he went to long without a hair cut. The photo had a warm energy to it despite not knowing who the middle person was. They looked young and happy, eyes half closed and long hair drapping over their shoulders. The soft smile looked familier except the aura from it didn't match to anyone he had seen smile the same way. Odd for his care taker to have a photo of 3 stangers on his bookshelf. He slowly arose from his kneeling position, wincing at the sting in his knees as small warm trickles of blood rand down from his knee to his shin. His throat constricted as he heard the click of the lock and door opening. How would he explain this? Accidents or intentional actions were never taken lightly. 

please be Weimar

please

--

Weimar sat with an empty look, holding his brother's bruised hand. It was surprising Earwyn had left his right hand practically untouched. Maybe the man had taken some pity, if you could call it that. 

"Wake up" he choked out. His hand trembled as he held the other's, rubbing his thumb lightly over the his brother's knuckles. He flinched, almost jumping out of his chair that was placed almost too close to the hospital bed when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"He's fine, just some minor internal bleeding, so stop crying." Weimar shakily raised a hand up to his cheek, feeling the sudden moisture on his face he hadn't even noticed was there. He sniffed, his throat tight and his words forced, "i am not crying" He said it so softly it would have made someone else's heart ache, made them softly hug him an tell him they knew he wasn't and let him sob into their shirt. Earwyn was not, however, someone else. He was the same mysterious caregiver that had hands as cold as ice and a temper as hot as a forge. Weimar whimpered as he felt a thumb dig into his shoulder muscles, his breathing stopping for a moment. "You didn't have to go so far," he whimpered, turning to his head to look at Earwyn with shiney eyes, "he made a mistake was all" he whimpered out.

Earwyn's eyebrows narrowed, his eyes flashing with anger before disappearing like a fire does when water is thrown on it. 

"Maybe i went too far, I'll admit that," he sighed as he glanced at Reich's half bandaged face, "but you know there has to be punishments for even mistakes too." There was an angry huff and then a clumsy fist making contact with his jacket covered arm. He looked down, Weimar's face covered in tears and snot as he punched and punched as if it would fix their current situation.

Saying "Stop" in a deep and too calm voice was all that was needed to make Weimar freeze, his energy spent on anger and replaced with slight terror. He choked out a "sorry" before being backhanded and told to just sit down and be quite. Weimar rubbed his sore cheek and sat down, his limbs shaking as he reached for his brother again. Realistically his brother was very much so not fine, his ribs were either bruised to oblivion or broken, he didn't know. Half his face was wrapped in bandages, some blood seeping through the eye area. did he even still have an eye? one arm was entirely wrapped in a protective cast while the other was just wrapped up in bandages. His body was covered in bruises and littered with cuts and the exposed side of his face showed a jaw that was clearly swollen. 

He did not look well. Frustration bubbled up in Weimar again as he side glanced Earwyn, fully intending for the anger he felt to be sent directly at his cargiver. Earwyn looked up and made eye contact with Weimar. "What?" He barked out, Weimar tried to not flinch but well. This man could break him in two, how else was he supposed to act? 

"Are you planning to apologize?" He asked, letting his anger from a moment ago slip into his soft voice, "He deserves one, considering the doctor's can't even look at the damage you did to his wings" he said. The wails he came home to and the loud sickening crunch of hollow bones being snapped like twigs under combat boots would haunt him. The anger that Earwyn had in his voice as he demanded Weimar shut him up and make him put his wings away despite Riech not having the energy to do that, and not only that but the sheer pain prevented it too. Weimar managed however, being gentle to not touch his brother despite wanting to give him a reassuring hug or pat or kiss on the head.

He spoke softly, trying to not let any fear or urgency slip into his already panicked voice. Riech couldn't breath, he was heaving and hacking up blood as he tried to stop his sobbing and stand up on possibly a broken leg. Weimar offered a hand to help him but that only made his brother flinch and hiss, his destroyed wings flaring up and causing more damage, if the cry was anything to go off of. He crumbled to the floor and Weimar will forever have that image of his proud brother laying on the floor covered in blood and bruises seered into his mind, the blind trust and affection he had for their "caregiver" was snuffed out like a flame to a candle.

However this wasnt the first or last time Riech would experience this, being neglected made him seek out whatever praise he could and to get the praise of Earwyn was like finding gold after a hard days work. And years later when they moved on from the horror of that house and had their own lives he would still send a letter or seek out whatever "fondness" he could find on the street. And Weimar sat there thinking next to the hospital bed as he stared down the devil that his brother would do whatever he could to be seen as good. To gain that trust and praise he never had from their fathers or this imposter of a parent. 

"What will you do about the wings?" He hissed, anger coming again full swing.

"There's a vet near by, im sure they take mutts" Earwyn said. 

oh Weimar thought, this is a joke to him. and he shook, his hands gripping the railing of the hospital bed.

"Does my brother's life mean that little to you?" He asked, his chest tighting, "are we just some silly little punchline to you?"

And Earwyn lazily looked at them and without much hesitance said "yes", a small grin tugged at his lips.

Weimar desperately wished they could leave, call their fathers or a friend or even America, anyone if it meant getting away.

But they were stuck like lambs on a farm, and Earwyn knew that as he continued to watch them like the wolf he was.

I like bullying Reich its my favorite hobby ✨