#lawrence (oc)

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 3 - "Well, well, well..."

| Hiding | Ambushed | Stalking |

Characters: Lawrence, Marshall

CW: Parental/yandere whumper, failed escape, manipulation, forming stockholm syndrome, minor injuries, infantilization

...

Marshall didn't know how he managed to do it, it was probably just pure luck on his side, but he managed to slip out of the house while Lawrence was asleep.

It was the perfect time to finally run away, especially since the older man would be groggy and confused in the morning. And hopefully by then, he'd be long gone from Lawrence's clutches.

The rain beat down on him for hours, but he didn't take shelter or more than a five minute break.

He needed to get as far as he could from Lawrence before the sun rose. Marshall shoved his hands deeper in his pockets to protect them from the icy cold, feeling the water seep through the thin fabric of his shirt.

This was a bad idea, a really bad idea.

But if it meant his freedom, he'd suffer through anything. He'd endure any torture to escape him.

He had no money, no way of getting any, and nowhere to stay for the night. Everything was dependent on a miracle now. It wasn't the smartest plan, but he had to take advantage of the only window of opportunity he was given. As long as Lawrence couldn't find him, he'd be fine. He could figure everything else out in time. Maybe he'd get a job, go back to school, start fresh somewhere else...

Despite his excitement, his heart weighed him down with guilt. He really shouldn't be abandoning Lawrence after everything he's done for him.

The blond loved him more than anything, and he betrayed that love by running.

Yet this was for the best, he told himself. It's the only way he'd be able to live his own life independently. And that's what he wanted.

Or so he insisted to himself.

It was past sunrise when he noticed a tiny gas station ahead of him. He rubbed his arms to bring some warmth to his skin. He was hungry, cold, and exhausted, which was an awful combination to have.

The rain had eased up to a slight drizzle, which provided little relief from the frigid weather. He trudged along, trying his best not to get hypothermia.

"I need help," he breathed to the man at the front, who only looked the slightest bit concerned. "Do you, um, have a phone? It's urgent."

The man opened his mouth, and then paused to look him over. "Sorry, only employees can use the phone. Do you want me to call someone for you?"

Marshall was baffled from his reply, but he didn't have time to get angry right now. He didn't want the police involved, he just wanted a ride to get out of here. He was glad he memorized his father's number--his real father--and gave it to the worker. He made a hand gesture for him to go sit down on one of the chairs a few feet away, and he reluctantly obeyed.

He noticed the man's voice was almost hushed, but he made out the words, "your kid is here", so he relaxed. He stared up at the clock above the counter, watching the seconds tick by.

He bounced his leg to keep himself from nodding off. His eyelids felt like a thousand pounds, threatening to close.

All he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and forget about all this bullshit.

Marshall didn't know how much time had passed, but then he saw a familiar car pull up at the gas station, but it wasn't his dad's car.

Lawrence got out of the car, looking every part of pissed. He was dressed in nothing but a sweater and sweats, obviously not prepared to come out here.

The blond stormed inside the shop. Marshall straightened and gulped, wanting to shrink back further into the chair.

The bell rang loudly over their heads. "Well, well, well," Lawrence seethed. He stood in front of Marshall, glaring down at him. His body trembled. "Where did you think you were going, hmm?" He reached down and grabbed his wrist. Marshall squeaked in protest. Lawrence glanced over at the employee. "Thanks, Colin, I'll take it from here."

Colin nodded. Lawrence pulled him up, who fought him the entire way. He was frozen, unable to form a single word as he dragged him outside.

Marshall managed to squeeze his wrist out of Lawrence's grip and staggered backwards. Lawrence stepped towards him in attempt to grab him again, and Marshall's hand acted on its own, punching him right in the jaw.

A few painful moments went by before the reality of the situation hit him. Lawrence cupped his chin, rubbing his sore jaw. Marshall covered his mouth with his hand. That was probably a bigger death wish than running in the first place.

When Lawrence growled, somehow more rage evident in his eyes, Marshall bolted to the nearby trees.

He ran as fast as he could, ignoring his body's protests against the exhaustion. His head ached, his lungs burned, his muscles throbbed...but all he could focus on was his impending doom.

He jumped over bushes and logs, dodging branches and rocks as they flew by. The thudding of Lawrence's shoes followed him from behind.

At one point, Marshall tripped over a branch hidden beneath the leaves. He screamed as he went down, clutching his ankle in pain. He could feel blood trickling down his cheek as he turned, spotting Lawrence stalking forward. Marshall got back to his feet and ran again, screaming when the pain shot through his ankle once he put pressure on it.

There was no winning this race. He wasn't fast enough or strong enough. This was always how it'd end.

He ducked behind a tree and crouched low behind the bushes. He listened to the sounds of the forest, hearing Lawrence call his name. Marshall wrapped his arms around his knees and hugged his legs to his chest.

"This isn't funny, sweetie! Just come home already, it's too dangerous out here."

Yeah right, Marshall thought. It was safer out here than being with him.

"Marshmallow!" Lawrence sang. He sounded more gentle now. Lawrence knew how to get to him. Nathan responded best to his anger, Sadie responded to his worry, and Marshall responded to softness. "If you come out, we can just go home and talk this over. We'll watch a movie and snuggle, I'll even let you pick. We can make a blanket fort and have some hot cocoa. And I won't be mad, I promise."

His head throbbed. His stomach dropped as he heard the crunch of Lawrence's footsteps getting closer. It's been so long since he's heard anything other than his voice.

"You know," Lawrence continued, "it isn't very nice to hit me. I'm willing to let it go since I know you were just scared, but only if you come out right now."

Lawrence knew how to play him like an instrument. Each sentence was calculated and precise, knowing exactly what buttons to press.

Logically, Marshall knew he could only hide here for so long. Lawrence knew he was in the area and he wouldn't back off until he found him. He'd rather just give up now than prolong this agony.

He wiped his eyes, the fear spiking each second he waited. Finally, he called out, "I-I'm over here!"

Lawrence found him crouched next to a large pine tree. The moment his eyes met the older man, the tears poured down. He could hear Lawrence sigh with relief. He bent down on one knee.

"Oh, kiddo, there you are." He pulled him into his arms. Marshall tried pushing against his chest to get away, but Lawrence's embrace tightened. He choked on a sob. Lawrence cooed to him, rocking him in his arms. "Shh, you're alright, don't cry. It's okay, I got you now. Let's get out of here, okay? You must be freezing."

"Are you mad at me?" he croaked. He pulled away and cried harder when he saw the forming bruise on his face that would no doubt look much worse later. He had no idea he was capable of such strength, and neither did Lawrence.

"I'm not mad. You listened to me, so there's gonna be no punishment, I promise," Lawrence told him. He cupped his cheek to bring their eyes together. "I've just never been more worried. What if something happened to you? Did you ever think about that?" Marshall remained silent. Lawrence sighed. "We're going home. And then we'll talk about it more after we get you warmed up and that ankle taken care of."

It was useless to argue. He let the blond carry him to the car and closed his tired eyes. It was times like these that Marshall started to wonder if Lawrence was really that bad.

[detective-luca-montoya]

For Luca about Lawrence - 8 (how would you describe your whumper?) and 45 (is there anything you said or did that could've led to your capture? If so, do you regret it?)

...Lawrence. 

Right.

He's a self-absorbed paranoid covert narcissist who thinks everything revolves around him. 

...

Look. It's complicated. 

Motive is important, in my business. Koya would say I place TOO much importance on it. The "why" of a crime is, in my opinion, just as important as the crime itself. 

Sadism, money, power- common motives, and not very sympathetic ones. Plenty of people are poor, or powerless, and don't resort to hurting others to make themselves feel better. I won't touch on sadism. Not yet.

Lawrence's primary motive is grief. 

His crimes are driven by a profound sense of loss. Of his wife, specifically. He's so desperate to fill that void of family that he'll kidnap and brainwash people to fill it. 

Does that make what he did excuseable? No, of course not. 

But... I understand him. He's desperate. And desperation is a sympathetic motive. Jean Valjean is the hero of "Les Misérables", after all. But I think that's where it becomes different. Valjean changes. He tries to become a good man, an upstanding man, to make up for whatever harm he caused. 

Lawrence doesn't change. Maybe he can't, maybe he's afraid to. I used to think I could change him, that if he had guidance, help, he would change. Heal.

[Luca looks at her prosthetic arm.]

Clearly, I was wrong. 

...I was reckless. Still am. Lawrence saw someone in danger, in need of help. I don't need anyone's help. 

I was vulnerable. It won't happen again.

[monta-02]

this blog dangerous, imma be up all-night writing Lawrence smut through a hurricane, damnit Monta! /Lh

I randomly decide to pop up on this blog when I remember it exists XD writing Lawrence smut is pretty fun LOL

[mintmoth]

I made more!! Featuring two oc's I've had yet to make any comics or anything with lmao

OH I nearly forgot! I filled out these character sheets for these two!

[patient-01]

[hyphose]

Lawrence Oleander - Boyfriend to death 2

I feel like drawing Lawrence naked is some kind of tradition in the btd2 fandom.

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 18 - "I'm fine."

| Self-defense | Allergies | Headache |

Characters: Lawrence, Marshall

Just a hurt/comfort fic with Lawrence (carewhumper). May have passed out during a blood draw today, but good news is I'm switching onto sub-q injections, so I'm pretty hyped for that.

CW: Carewhumper, stockholm syndrome, parental whumper, infantilzing whumper

...

The last thing Marshall wanted was to let Lawrence know he had bad allergies and headaches, so he kept quiet when he needed medicine or stayed in bed when the headaches kicked in. Lawrence had just started trusting him alone on his own again, and he didn't want to ruin that progress. So he suffered through the pain, waiting until the symptoms subsided again.

Usually it wouldn't be an issue. He could power through the allergy season and his migraines would calm down by themselves. It was nothing he wasn't used to dealing with.

But this year was different.

For some reason, his symptoms were getting worse every day. The air outside was chilly, making his nose run all the time, which made his sinuses hurt worse than usual.

Maybe it was because he used to be living in the big city, and now he was living in an area surrounded by much more nature than he was used to.

Who knows, but whatever it was, it was irritating as fuck.

His nose was stuffed constantly. It made him lightheaded and dizzy, and he would accidentally walk into the walls. His headache worsened the more he sneezed, and he would wince just from the sound of his own voice.

Talking aggravated his throat, and every swallow felt like sandpaper. He was starting to get anxious from all this discomfort.

While Lawrence was at work, Marshall figured he could make use of the house to make himself more comfortable. He raided the bathroom cupboards and drawers for any sort of allergy medicine, but everything was locked, as per usual.

He huffed. He supposed he'd have to make due without it.

Marshall put a humidifier in the living room to make his nose less dry and grabbed an extra blanket to curl up in. He decided to make a blanket fort to read in, so he spent his time carefully laying out the cushions and pillows in a circle on the floor. After he was satisfied with how it looked, he went back to his room to grab his books, blankets, and a flashlight.

He was careful to set everything up in a way that wouldn't collapse, as he planned on spending most of his day inside it.

It looked flimsy and rushed compared to Lawrence's blanket forts, but it would do.

He hid his head beneath the mountain of pillows, sighing in content at the moisture in the air. This made it much easier to breathe. He blew his nose, which only helped slightly, and opened one of his books.

By the time Marshall had finished, he fell asleep with his book splayed open on his chest.

He used to get nothing but nightmares every night, but once he accepted his life with Lawrence, things were starting to turn up. Now it was only occasionally he'd get one. He considered that a success.

When he woke up, he saw a tall figure standing in the entrance to his fort. He flinched back until he realized it was only Lawrence, who was giving him an amused smile.

"Hi, kiddo. I see you've been busy today."

"Hey." Marshall sniffled. "Uh, I was just reading. Sorry, I guess I kind of took over the whole room. I'll clean it up."

Lawrence crawled under the fort to join him. "Oh, don't even worry about it. I like seeing you do your own thing when I'm away." He put a hand to Marshall's forehead, frowning in concern. "Are you feeling sick at all?"

Marshall leaned into the touch. He really did appreciate when Lawrence checked up on him, though sometimes it annoyed him. "I think it's just allergies or something. I kept my window open all day yesterday and forgot that ragweed is, like, everywhere at this time of year." He sighed when Lawrence's frown deepened. "I'm fine."

"My poor baby." The blond combed the hair from his face. "How about I grab my laptop, and we watch a movie in here? And I'll fix us some dinner."

It was rare he allowed Marshall to have food anywhere that wasn't at the table, but he enjoyed being spoiled every now and then. Marshall nodded eagerly.

Lawrence chuckled. "Alright, I'll be back." He pressed a kiss to his forehead and then slipped out of the fort. Marshall sat up and watched his silhouette leave.

He listened to the faint sounds of dishes clanking and the tap turning on, letting his eyes close. His head ached, but at least he was breathing through his nose again. He made himself as small as possible beneath the sheets and buried his face in his pillow.

A few minutes passed before he heard Lawrence return, pulling him back into reality. He shuffled in after him, placing the laptop in between them. He then handed him his dinner plate.

"What is this?"

"Chicken couscous."

"Which is...?"

"Okay, Mr. My-entire-diet-consists-of-chicken-nuggets-and-Kraft-macaroni, it's kind of like pasta. Just try it." Marshall pouted at him but did so anyway, taking a small bite. He hummed at the flavor, nodding in approval. Lawrence grinned and ruffled his hair. "See? It's not that hard to eat something other than chicken nuggets, is it?"

"I can't believe you're mocking me while I'm dying of allergies," Marshall joked.

Lawrence perked up. "Speaking of." He grabbed a bottle of meds from his pocket and shook two pills into his palm. "Take those, and your allergies should clear up in a bit."

Marshall took them with the glass of water he was handed, and then dove back into eating. He watched Lawrence scroll through a bunch of movies. It took Marshall a moment to figure out he was waiting for him to pick one.

"Finding Nemo?"

Lawrence smiled. "Good choice, kiddo." He clicked on the movie and picked up his food, leaning back against the propped up pillows. The younger man mirrored him, tucking himself beneath the blankets again.

Halfway through the movie, he could feel his eyes getting heavy. He stifled a yawn, hoping Lawrence wouldn't notice. But of course, he did.

The blond pulled him closer, allowing him to rest his head on his shoulder. He played with his hair, making Marshall's eyelids droop. Marshall pushed his forehead against his shoulder in attempt to ease the headache trying to make an appearance again.

"Get some rest. I don't mind."

Marshall shifted uncomfortably. "'Kay, Dad."

Once the word slipped past his lips, he tensed and slowly glanced at Lawrence to gauge his reaction. Lawrence beamed and planted a kiss on his head.

Marshall pretended to be disgusted and squirmed in his hold. Lawrence laughed. "Oh, Marshie, don't be like that. I thought you'd never say that." He peppered his face in kisses, his slight facial hair scratching him, proof he hadn't shaved in record time.

"Stoooppp!" Marshall giggled. He hid under the covers again, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. As humiliating as Lawrence could be, his real parents hadn't given him this kind of comfort in years. "You're evil."

"Say it again, please?"

"No."

"Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"

"That you're evil?"

"Marshaaalll..."

Marshall secretly enjoyed how Lawrence seemed more wrapped around his finger than the other way around. He could ask for anything and the blond would give it to him without a second thought, as long as it wasn't freedom. And honestly? He truly didn't want that anymore.

This felt more freeing than being trapped in his old house, with all his worries and fears from the outside world slipping away.

"You're so annoying... Dad."

Lawrence buried his nose in Marshall's hair. He could feel his smile against his scalp. "I love you so much, kiddo."

Marshall stopped himself from reciprocating the words. He felt like Lawrence would have a heart attack right then and there if he did. Instead, he just basked in the comfort, listening to Lawrence's steady heartbeat and the movie playing in the background.

[jelly-custard]

(ᴖ◡ᴖ)✧

[detective-luca-montoya]

Diversity win! The guy who kidnapped you to act as a surrogate child is bisexual!

[monta-02]

i need to know, if charlotte were to fuck lawrence how would she get him all molded and compliant?

and vice versa how would he get her all molded and compliant?

She can dominate him pretty easily, he has little self-control when it comes to her lol. When she degrades/praises him, he's desperate for her approval and affection, which means he'll do basically anything she wants. He especially loves being bossed around.

While Lawrence would happily take the opportunity to dominate Charlotte, she'd always give him little reminders to make sure he knows who's really in control.

[sinnerclaun]

CIRCUS AU - BTD IAN (MC)

Find the impostor I was thinking between knife thrower or a mime, but I think he would have too much fun throwing knives at his assistants ♥

[ruru-me]

I completely forgot about this one

[magicalbunbun]

The old artist

[stinkykitty8]

Lets just say Lawrence was a bit surprised to hear a baby start screaming all of a sudden despite it looking very dead and cold

(My fanchild Basil)

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 7 - "What happened?"

| Nightmare | Isolation | Stumbling |

Characters: Lawrence, Marshall

For once, I decided to make Lawrence the super emotionally vulnerable one lol.

CW: Parental whumper, stockholm syndrome, nightmares, death (in nightmare), yandere whumper

...

Lawrence woke up with a jolt. He'd been in the middle of a nightmare, but then realized his blankets were tossed onto the floor. His hands were shaking as he rubbed his eyes, pushing his sweat-soaked hair from his face.

He clutched his own beating heart and tried to slow his breaths, which turned to pants as the anxiety gripped his lungs.

It took a few minutes for him to finally calm down. He ran his fingers over his wet cheeks. It had been a while since he had such an awful dream.

He didn't even remember what it was about until he thought of Marshall.

Those green eyes that normally shone so bright were dull in his hellscape of a dream. The light in them was snuffed out, and Lawrence screamed so loud in his dream, his throat felt sore in real life. He scrambled out of bed and hurried into Marshall's bedroom, slamming open the door.

He was expecting to see his boy there, sleeping as restlessly as he usually did, but his bed was empty.

Lawrence froze for just a moment, and then felt back on the verge of a panic attack.

"MARSHALL?!" he cried, racing out of the room and stumbling down the hall so fast he nearly slipped and fell. There was no way, he wasn't gone. He couldn't be gone. His nightmare wasn't reality.

He frantically opened the doors, ignoring how loud they slammed into the walls. It didn't matter to him in this moment.

He continued screaming his name, but was interrupted by the sound of the toilet flushing and a door opening. He let out a strangled sound and bolted for the bathroom.

Marshall emerged, rubbing his eyes blearily.

He was just as Lawrence had left him hours earlier: in a loose pajama shirt and sweats, with his thick brown hair tangled from sleep.

Lawrence ignored the puzzled look on Marshall's face as he tackled him into a hug, letting out a choked sob. Marshall tensed, but relaxed in the embrace, patting his back awkwardly. He let Lawrence fuss over him, looking him over for injuries.

"What happened? Am I in trouble? I was just using the bathroom," Marshall anxiously explained. His eyebrows shot up. "Woah, are you crying?"

Lawrence sniffled and pulled away, pressing his palms against Marshall's shoulders. "You're okay. You're okay," he repeated. Marshall was sure he had completely lost his mind. He ran his fingers through Marshall's hair. "God, don't scare me like that ever again, do you hear me? Please, please, never do that again."

"Uhh, okay... sorry." Marshall learnt the best way to avoid getting scolded or worse was to just go along with it. Even if he had no clue what he did. "Did you have a bad dream or something?"

"Yeah... wanna sit on the couch, watch a movie?"

"It's two in the morning."

Lawrence put his arm over his shoulder and led him out of the bathroom. "So? We can make hot cocoa, you love that stuff. And what ever movie you want!" Marshall looked hesitant. "Please, kiddo? I don't want to be alone right now. We can sleep in extra late tomorrow, and I can even bake you those madeleines. And I can even make--"

"Okay, okay! No need to bribe me." Marshall gave him a lopsided smile.

Lawrence returned the smile. He had been so terrified to go to sleep ever again after that. The thought of losing Marshall drove him mad. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his child to anything.

They settled on the couch with their cups of hot cocoa, a warm blanket, and one of Marshall's favorite movies.

Marshall hated to admit it, but he was genuinely worried over his captor. He scooted closer, to lean his head on his shoulder. "Do you wanna talk about it? The nightmare?"

The blond turned his head towards him. He pondered it for a moment. "It was about you." His grip on the mug tightened. "You don't need to hear about it, Marshie. I don't wanna traumatize you."

Marshall resisted the urge to tell him he didn't do a good job at that. "No, I want to. If, um, you're willing to tell me."

"I..." Lawrence trailed off. Marshall didn't know if it was a good idea to press him further or not, but Lawrence then went on, "I don't know the details, but you were hurt. You were crying, and there was a lot of blood. And I couldn't do anything to help you. I just had to watch you--" His voice cracked and he cut himself off. Marshall's eyebrows knitted together. "But then I woke up and you weren't in your room, and I thought maybe that was it, that it had all happened in real life."

"Oh." Marshall stared at the TV screen, not knowing where else to look. It hurt to look at the pain in Lawrence's eyes.

Lawrence wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't be listening to this, I'm supposed to be the one comforting you." He laughed, but it came out as more of a strangled sob.

Marshall didn't know what to do. He put his mug down on the coffee table and turned so he could hug him properly, wrapping his arms around his torso.

"I'm okay. See? I'm here with you. Nothing's gonna happen to me. Not if you're watching over me," he reassured. He cringed internally at the words, but he knew that would make Lawrence feel better. And that's what he needed.

"Oh, Marshall." Lawrence embraced him back. He pressed his lips against his temple. "I would never let anyone hurt you. You know that, right? You know how much I love you, don't you?"

He swallowed nervously. "Yeah, I do."

"You're all I have," he murmured. His nails dug into the back of Marshall's neck. "I'm never, ever, going to lose you. You belong here. Right here, in my arms, where you're safe." Lawrence's possessive behavior was no longer scary, it was just plain annoying. It made Marshall's stomach churn. "Where I can protect you. From the bad people out there."

Marshall didn't view Lawrence as a bad person, but misunderstood. He was delusional.

Marshall knew he could be cruel and controlling, but he wasn't some villain from a superhero movie. He was a man with problems and needs, like everyone else.

He didn't believe he had stockholm syndrome... he was just an empathetic person. That's what he kept telling himself.

Lawrence's grip tightened. "You know that, right? And--and if anyone tried to hurt you, I'd kill them. I would. I'd do anything to protect you."

"Yeah, I know. But no one is coming after me, and if they did, then you'd be there to keep me safe." Marshall yawned. He hoped Lawrence would get the hint, and thankfully, he did.

He released Marshall from the crushing hug and sat back again. "Right. I would. Don't forget that. Ever."

[jelly-custard]

People kept mistaken him as Lawrence probably because they're hair are the same