Broken Boulder i dont even feel like writing

@Aditya this post is awful but here u go

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: suicidal thoughts, please dont read if thats a trigger for you!

It was one of those days. The kind he'd never actually realized he'd have; the kind where he just sat around and wished he was dead. It was kinda funny. He'd gone over it so many times in his head, so many different ways he could try again, that it had become almost a casual thing. His own little menu of ways to be awful and selfish.
It was selfish of him. Alarian's death would leave Delight alone with the burden of leadership once again (he'd do to him what his last leader had, in a way, but more permanent— worse— was he okay with that?), would rip away his chance to truly mend things with Zamael and Eris and Lily (he would be the one running away (again) this time, but not for weeks or months or years, forever), would leave Ulf with no one to look out for him (he'd be hurting him and condemning him), would send Bracken Sanctuary into a state of chaos (but he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore, would he?).
He forced himself to his feet, taking steps without really seeing where he was going. At some point, he found himself at the borders, staring into the valley. It would be so easy to turn around, he thought. He knew the right plant. The thought quickened his pulse, bile rising in his throat, and inexplicably he thought of Mahler. Pictured what he thought the man's reaction might be to such a sentiment; distaste, at the very least, he imagined.
It was enough to shake the worst of the fit from him, and he settled to lay with his head on his paws and sighed. Perhaps he'd keep watch here for a time; Queenie didn't seem to be about, so he was probably safe for now. Hopefully she was feeding her goddamn kids.

perhaps it was a bad idea to go back to bracken sanctuary, but these days, aditya was the king of bad ideas--so why not try another one out for size?

he had to see alarian again. not for that--it had been the furthest thing from his mind, lately--but to try to preserve any sort of alliance between their two packs. he had messed up by making things too personal for comfort, but maybe he could mend the wounds, at least enough for bracken sanctuary and morningside to benefit, if not himself (or alarian). it was the right thing to do, even if it was a bad idea.

fortune smiled on him today, for there alarian sat at the borders, looking off into the distance. letting out a bark, even though he was well in sight, adi trotted that way, tail wagging. he was a little nervous, his stomach slightly clenched, but he put on a brave face: a gentle smile, and eyes full of resolve. nothing but cordiality lie in the chiseled features of his countenance, this time.

"alarian," he said in greeting, dipping his head politely. he eyed his sullen form with wariness; should he inquire into his well-being? or would that be too personal? eventually, he chose to keep quiet, letting the governor make the next move. if he was comfortable with sharing, then he would share. if not, aditya would continue to dance around it.

The last person he'd expected— the last person he'd wanted to see was Aditya. He swallowed hard, watching him approach; if the golden wolf noticed the nasty, still-healing head wound he sported from his encounter with Runion, he chose not to react. Secretly, he was sort of grateful. He hadn't seen it himself, but he could tell from the reaction it typically drew that it wasn't pretty.
As the man drew nearer, he found his insides twisting painfully, gaze flashing hot and scathing for several moments; at the sound of his name, it turned icy instead. He allowed a brief silence to stretch between them, only studying Aditya. The sight of him made his chest ache, and he hated him for it.
I saw Dawn. I spoke to her, His voice was as cold as his eyes, each word quiet and deliberate. He allowed another breath of silence to pass, ignoring the wave of dizziness that washed over him. Twice. He was nauseous, then. His stomach lurched painfully, and he swallowed again, tense as he watched for the other's reaction. Perhaps he'd be the one to walk away this time; Alarian didn't know if he would be relieved or crushed all over again.

his emotions had gotten the better of him, blinding him to the twisted, ugly wound upon alarian's head. but now as the governor spoke, he saw it, and a measure of shock entered his gaze, enhanced further by his friend(?)'s words. he tried not to let his eyes linger too long on the marred skull, instead looking somewhere along the bridge of alarian's nose, attempting to keep his face impassive.

"oh?" just a single syllable in (seemingly) nonplussed inquiry, head tilted slightly to the side. "that's. . ." nice? no. great? no. interesting? yes, but that came off more biting than he wanted. he shook his head, clearing the half-hearted remark from his mind entirely. "what happened?" he asked, dipping his muzzle toward the wound instead, sympathy coating his words.

The implications of his words didn't seem to register— or perhaps they did, and Aditya simply didn't care. After everything, it was easier to believe the latter, and the idea stung much more than he wanted to admit. He swallowed hard, going silent again. It was impossible to keep the hurt from his expression— impossible to keep any emotion from showing on his face now, and he hated the fact.
My asshole brother, He answered in a quiet, clipped voice. There was no reason to hide it any longer— let him think what he wanted. It took another beat to find the energy to say anything at all; he suddenly wanted nothing more than to tell Aditya to leave and never speak to him again.
Why are you here, Aditya? The question was almost rhetorical— he thought he knew why. Despite everything you've done to fuck it up, pack relations are fine. Dawn and I worked it out. You have no reason to be here, or to keep pretending you care— it's obvious you don't. You don't care about me, and maybe you care about the relationship between our packs, but not enough to stop and think for one second before telling Dawn you fucked me.
Alarian swallowed again, rising to his feet now and taking a step back; he needed more distance, he needed an entire ocean between them but he couldn't get that so he settled for a step, just one step. I thought you were a good person— but good people don't do this. You made me think you cared, and— His voice broke slightly, but for once, he did not cry. He paused and took a breath, words tumbling from him that he did not believe but desperately wanted Aditya to believe. I don't deserve this.

before he could even register the fact that somehow alarian's brother was mixed up in all of this--he had a brother?--alarian went on, an angry tirade of words thrown at him. he was completely perplexed until the governor made it clear. he had told dawn about alarian, and dawn had let it slip. it was alarian's verdict on his supposed goodness that had his eyes grow cold, icy balls of gold in his skull.

"you're wrong. i am good. just--" he cut off, shaking his head in disbelief. "look, i'm sorry i told dawn about you, about us. it was thrown out in anger, and maybe i shouldn't have. but it wasn't fair that i, alone, had to live with the image of my mate fucking someone else. for once, i wanted to feel. . ."

aditya sucked in a breath, glancing away. "even. i wanted to feel even. like i wasn't the only one hurting." he couldn't even bear to look at alarian now, knowing even as he said them that his words were completely hypocritical. "you never should have been caught in the middle. for that, i am sorry."

and then there was irritation once again, prickling at every inch of his skin, raising each individual hair on his pelt, good nature be damned. "but you don't get to make blanket judgments on my character," adi snapped, looking back at alarian with eyes that had melted into fire once more. "dawn and i, we both fucked up. i am good; i simply got screwed over one too many times in life. you don't know me at all. you don't know my life, my thoughts, and you've merely scratched the surface of my feelings. all you know is my body--the shell of me, the part that matters least!

"i do care about you, just like i care about dawn, my pack, my friends. but people who care about each other hurt each other, sometimes. that's how life goes. you can't escape it, no matter how hard you try." he swallowed, and then the ice was back, his withering gaze fixed firmly on the governor. "but i'm glad you and dawn 'worked it out,'" he added, a nasty mockery of alarian's words.

Somewhere between Aditya's words, he took another step back, this time caught in a wave of dizziness that forced him to sit promptly and ungracefully. He'd been unprepared for his ire, the bite behind his words, though he supposed in a way he was right. It just— hurt. Alarian was scarcely allowed his hurt or grief; he knew it came in waves of irrationality and periods of isolation, that he could hardly be called reasonable when he felt burned.
But it felt like he never got a break. Logically he knew it was ridiculous to expect anyone to just roll over and take it; he didn't even know what reaction he'd want. He'd feel like an ass if anyone actually did that. It didn't matter anyway.
At some point, he'd fixed his gaze firmly on the ground, and it stayed there— even as Aditya's last words cut through him, leaving a burning hole in his chest. The tears he'd held back threatened to spill, now. He couldn't bring himself to speak, or even look at him. There were things he wanted to say— things he disagreed with, more venomous words to return.
He just couldn't. He blinked rapidly, the first few tears soaking into his fur, and turned his face slightly away. His ears burned hot; why did he always have to cry? It was the most embarrassing thing— he'd come to hate the feeling, knowing his weakness was exposed for everyone to see. Especially Aditya, especially right now; all he wanted was to hold on to his anger, to feel that a bit longer, to tell the wolf before him to get the fuck off his borders and never come back.
He cried instead, quiet and fighting the process every step of the way.

he wanted a fight, he wanted alarian to lash back. for the first time, the governor had called him out on shit instead of folding, and it felt right. he stood in anticipation, waiting for the words to cut into him, but none came. instead, the slender male began to cry, tears soaking the silky fur of his cheeks, and aditya's face fell in utter dismay.

"haye bhagwaan, please, stop," adi groaned, swiping a paw over his face. "don't cry. i can't-- i don't know what to say or do, when you cry." he realized that alarian had seen his own tears, once, and his reaction had been to fuck the young man. he almost wished the sanctuary's leader would take advantage of this awkward moment in the same fashion.

his nose extended, suddenly and inexplicably eager to touch him--but he pulled back, heart thumping against the wall of his chest. aditya ducked his head, shy. breathing heavily. "god, just. . .yell at me. scream your lungs out. rake me with your claws, your teeth," adi pressed, ears flattening. "call me names--kutte, kaminey, chutiya. but don't cry. please stop crying."

There were, perhaps, ways to get Alarian to stop crying— making him feel guilty for crying was not one of them. Aditya's begging made him feel worse at first, and who knew crying made dizziness worse? Well, he didn't. He gave up and laid down entirely, wondering if this could actually get any more awkward. Rather than try to grasp the remaining shreds of his dignity and uh— what was that phrase? Man up— hahaha— nah, he hid his face in his paws and cried more.
But when the other started offering suggestions, Alarian couldn't help but glance up at him in disbelief. The tears didn't stop, but the words drew a quiet laugh from him— a little bitter, a little hollow, but a laugh nonetheless. He didn't even know what any of those words meant, but he assumed they might be sufficient to cover his opinion of Aditya.
Somehow, he realized, he still didn't want to do any of that. He had thought so, but it seemed he could never quite pinpoint how he felt about Aditya. He couldn't decide if he hated him or cared about him— both, he thought, and found the idea repulsive.
I don't want to do any of that, He admitted quietly, swallowing hard. His ears pinned briefly to his skull. I just want— What did he want? He faltered, studying Aditya for several beats as if he might have the answer. Then he fixed his gaze on the ground, realizing he didn't know at all what he wanted; he just didn't want to hurt any more.

god, he was crying more. nothing was working. except. . .oh. his suggestions had alarian suddenly laughing, and he relaxed slightly, ears returning to their upright position slowly but surely. he looked at the governor like he was a bomb about to go off--warily, with flashing eyes. but a smile, a sad, small expression, bloomed over his muzzle, and he nodded.

"i'm sorry," he said again, glancing down himself. "i'll leave you alone, now." he was out of words, out of ideas. he didn't know what else to do besides leave. there was no consoling, no reasoning with alarian at this moment, not when he had been painted as some kind of villain. aditya would have preferred vitriol, curses and fangs, but all he had received was weeping and indecision. and those were things he could not work with.

with another nod, his eyes meeting alarian's for the briefest of moments, aditya turned and padded away, resisting the urge to look back. he had done damage, no matter the intent, but it was up to alarian to recover. he certainly wasn't keen on letting aditya help him in that effort. all he could do was give it time--and hope that the old adage that time heals all wounds held up, even in these troubled, confusing days.

And that hurt even more. Unlike last time, he couldn't just— watch him walk away. He couldn't. No— wait— don't— Alarian rose far too quickly, managing about two and a half steps forward before his vision went black and he stumbled, unable to tell up from down for a few beats. Somehow, he managed not to lose his footing, but—
Aditya, please, He tried another few steps after him, bile rising in his throat. He didn't know what he'd say, if there was anything left to say, but he couldn't just leave. Everyone left— everyone ultimately decided Alarian was too much— and it wasn't fucking fair. Aditya had started this, and now he got to walk away from it, like everyone did.
Everyone but him. Maybe that was it— maybe he wouldn't be holding it against him if he could leave it behind, too. But he couldn't. He was stuck with himself, with his own sharp-edged thoughts and tempestuous emotions, and even if he could run there was nowhere he could go to escape these things. At the end of the day, when everyone had grown tired of his turbulence, he was left alone to deal with it. And maybe— maybe he was tired of being alone, tired of dealing with it.
Maybe he didn't want to any more.