[ P ] Trapped in Your Hell

Declan

He'd just gotten back from a job and found himself wandering the old winding path that led up to his parents house. He remembered well the day his father had thrown him and his brother out to fend for themselves when they were but yearlings. He'd taken up work under his father so he didn't go hungry and shortly after had managed to find a place of his own. He would have preferred to stay with his brother rather than be alone but Killian had wanted his own place. Declan couldn't blame him for that, he guessed, but it did make for a somewhat lonely life.

Maybe that was why he was at his parents doorstep now, rapping on the door to get someone's attention. He secretly hoped just his mother was home and that his father was out doing whatever the fuck he usually did during the day. He'd never been close to the man and in all honesty, he hated him. But his mother? Things were different between them. If he had to spell it out, he would say he loved her in his own way but that didn't mean things weren't strained at times.

The door opened and thankfully it wasn't his father's ugly mug he was greeted with. He smiled at Amelia warmly, his tail swaying twice behind him before he walked inside.

"Morning Ma," he commented as he looked around their home, the home he'd grown up in. He shifted on his paws, the only indication that he was somewhat nervous to be here before he turned to face his mother.

The day was slightly stormy, so I decided to work on my toxins and poisons. My mind wrapped in the chemicals and reactions, there had been a knocking at the door. Fear never washed over me, at least not in the way it always intended, so I moved to the door without hesitation. When opened, the boy who stepped through was none other than my handsome, gargantuan son. Declan turned to me, a small grin, light with his tail, a short greeting. Warmth radiated from my chest as I observed my son in full.
"Declan, my darling,"
Honey toxic voice soothed the air around us, but lacked some bite to it as my boys always held a softer part of me. My heart always did thaw just a tad when my sons were involved.
"You look well. Are you fine, my dear?"
Or does mommy need to go kill someone? Slight concern spilled over otherwise completely flawless features over a slender visage, a smile gracing russet lips. Dark eyes went to scanning him, checking for injuries. He was more like his father than the boy wanted to admit. Those magma eyes, rich earthy pigment to his fur. He was handsome, built like a battle sergeant ready to take the world. I had hoped I instilled such in him, to take what he wants, when he wants. Who will stop him?

I dared the world to try.

code // art

Declan

His mother's honied tones washed over him, bathing him in a familiarity he missed from childhood. Most of his fond memories included his mother or brother, but rarely his father or other siblings. Amelia had been warmer towards her children than Lachlan had ever been and for that Declan would always be grateful. Still, it wasn't enough to give him the confidence he so desperately craved. He was still that same insecure boy he'd always been.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "I'm fine, Ma." he admitted. "Just got back from a job in Rionnach and figured I'd stop by and say 'hey' is all." There was nothing wrong, exactly. He was just bored and lonely. He offered her a warm smile as he stepped further inside. "When's... uh, when do you think dad'll be back? I can be out of your hair before then." he said, turning and letting his gaze rest upon the fiery russets of his mother's pelt. He trailed her face, her glittering emerald eyes, and hoped that she'd not dig deeper into his desire to be gone by the time Lachlan returned home. She knew he did not care for his father and probably knew the old man didn't give two shits about him by now too. He then glanced towards her workings and tilted his head. "Whatcha workin' on?" he asked curiously.