#chiar has a hard time separating past from present
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🤫 for Chiar!
- @another-whump-sideblog
Thanks for the ask! (from this ask game)
🤫-revealed trauma
masterlist.
***
Azide lit candles.
The flames danced in Chiar’s eyes, reflected off of Azide’s glasses and turned distorted and multi-coloured.
Chiar flinched back, dragging his chair with him. When he stood, the world spun with him, his insides twisted together in ways they shouldn’t be. He didn’t even hear the dull thud of the chair hitting the floor. He didn’t hear Azide’s cry.
Again he could see the burning torch and again he could hear hoarse screaming.
Laughing flames.
Instinctively, he cradled his hand close to his chest. At least he could still feel his fingers. Some parts of them. Some of the nerves had been damaged irreversibly and he could no longer feel his ring or little finger on his right hand.
He could thank Bridge for that.
Bridge.
Bridge with his fire and his notebook and his questions, endless, mind-numbing questions that left Chiar screaming–
“Chiar!”
Chiar flinched back, throat dry and hands sweaty. Shadows contracted around his skin and he inhaled sharply to bring them back into place�� inside him– where they belonged.
Since when did Bridge have white hair and glasses?
“Chiar? Are you with me? Speak to me.”
Why did Bridge speak so kindly? Was this another one of his games? What was the point?
The floor rose up to meet him as Chiar slid down the wall. Wooden floor. Not stone. Oh. Right.
Fantastic.
The world stopped spinning long enough for Chiar to recognise the candle-lit table did not hold torches. That the room he was in was not a cell, but a tall-ceilinged dining hall
And the person crouched in front of him was not Bridge.
“Azide?”
There was relief behind the glasses. Azide drew their hands back and steepled their fingers as they rocked on their heels. “Was it the candles?”
Chiar scrambled to his feet, almost knocking Azide back as he did so. “No.”
Azide also stood, a bit more reluctantly. “I’m no fool. Those are burn scars on your hand. Aren’t they?”
Chiar clutched his hand closer. His eyes glittered blue. “If you’re not a fool, you wouldn’t need me to answer that.”
Azide’s hand steeple collapsed and they instead started to fidget with their rings.
Chiar turned. “If you’ll excuse me, I will be in the quarters you’ve so graciously lent me.”
Azide watched him leave. Then, slowly, they blew out the candles one by one. They locked them in a cabinet, not to be used again.
#i’m ashamed of how long this took me#sorry#cw burns#cw past torture#cw inhuman whumpee#angst guys. so much angst#chiar has a hard time separating past from present#raising chaos#my guy chiar#azide is genuinely a good person
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