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lastchancestardomm · 7 months ago

Text

To All of You, I Say

Word Count - N/A

Warnings: Extremely Fucked-Up Shit. Child Abuse. Child Neglect. Rape/Non-Con. Abandonment. Heed the Warnings.

Status - Not Beta Read

A/N: I had to get her backstory out somehow. This has been privated for the last like two months, and I am very insecure and genuinely afraid of this, but I had to write out Ana's backstory somehow. I tried putting content labels on it, but it hid this post to the majority of my followers, so I'm just fucking giving up. I based this on, and recommend listening along to, the song KILLED BY ANGEL by Alice Schach and the Magic Orchestra. As I said, read the warnings and take them seriously. This is fucked up.

June ██ , 1941

Joseph stared at his precious baby boy, held tenderly by his dear wife, Aino, with stars in his eyes. Despite a thin layer of blood and his wife's fluids coating his features, the infant seemed to glow, dazzle even.

The little one will be christened with the name Aleksander-Erik. But he has always been known as Alex by those who regarded him dearly.

Aleksander-Erik Ivanova, the name rolled off Joseph's tongue like a holy prayer. It was a strong name, a name the boy would need if he were to take over his father's winery. Aino, on the other hand, thought the name was a mouthful.

The small baby reached out to his father, chubby hands grabbing his scruffy beard. He gave a soft tug, and a darling giggle at his papa's small grunt.

He is beloved.

August ██ , 1947

Aleksander is six years old. He sits in an uncomfy chair just outside the delivery room, and can hardly hear his dear mama's exclamations over his own sobbing. The bright lights and white walls overwhelm him, and he cries louder. The nurse next to him squeezes his hand in comfort.

He hiccups between tears if his mother will be okay. The nurse squeezes his hand again.

"She will be okay, Aleksanki, she's giving birth to your little sister,"

He's going to be a big brother. Other boys at his daycare talk about their baby siblings, and call them annoying and loud. They say they want their baby siblings to go away.

He hopes that she's not annoying and loud. He hopes his little sister will be great. But he's scared.

September ██ , 1947

She was named Maria. She was named after the Holy Mary, but also because her name means "star" and such. Aino chuckled tiredly as she watched her husband gush over his baby daughter. She leaned over to her son and jokingly mumbled to him that Maria can also mean "bitterness".

Joseph's pride and joy is his daughter, he'd give everything to see her blossom into a successful flower of pure beauty. She's still very little, and can't even roll onto her tummy, but he will praise the baby girl any chance he can get.

Although, he's often at his winery, individually quality-checking each bottle. The best of the batch were carried home by him to indulge in and share with his wife.

June ██ , 1949

Aleksander is eight years old. Maria is a rather stoic one-year-old. It was his birthday some days ago, and ever since, his father has put him to work.

He has gone out net-fishing with Aino, and to the town square to sell the fruits (well, fish) of their labor. He's been with his father to the winery, helping pull wagons of the finest and highest quality of the batch back home.

His father has signed him onto the school running team, soccer team, and hockey team. Aleksander doesn't enjoy all these activities, perhaps he would if it was one or the other, but all three at once is overwhelming. But he's too people-pleasing to tell his prideful father off.

Maria is a strange baby. She doesn't cry, rather, she gnaws on her chubby hands until someone takes notice. Aleksander frets constantly over his little sister, and comes with tear-filled eyes to his mother saying Maria is sick each time she goes a-gnawin'.

Aino worries for her daughter's sake, but Joseph only berates her for believing her son's concern over nothing. He thinks his daughter is perfect just the way she is.

January ██ , 1952

Aleksander is ten years old. Maria is four years old. The little girl has a whole bedroom to herself now, walls decorated with stickers and her pockets always stuffed with candies.

She has a big loft bed adorned with shiny jewelry she'll never wear, causing it to resemble a castle somewhat. Which is fitting, as the small girl is spoiled like a princess, well, at least by her father.

Aleksander can chop wood now. His father aided him in his first week with the labor, and then left him to it. His mother remarks he's much better than his father at the job, and quicker too, which drives him to continue no matter how much his hands hurt and bleed.

But he has to be honest with himself, if it weren't for his mother, he would've quit all the chores a long time ago.

January ██ , 1954

Aleksander is twelve years old. Maria is six years old. The night sky glimmered indifferently.

The delivery room is in hysterics. The doctors yell out to the nurses "Breech!", as they hurry about to begin a C-section. Controlled chaos or orderly madness could be a descriptor.

He can't help it, he feels like a little kid, but he's sent to tears once again. Aleksander is crying, sniffling loudly as a nurse tries to hush him. The screams of his mother pierce his ears and drives him to sob. His younger sister, Maria, snoozes peacefully in the crook of his neck.

Joseph is escorted by two nurses into the lobby, as he curses indecipherable chains of swears. Even he doesn't truly know what he's angry about.

Now it's a gamble, a game of chance, and a race against time.

January ██ , 1954 Hours Later

The doctor comes into the lobby solemnly. Joseph cradles his two children against his body as they sleep, when he's approached by the downtrodden doctor.

He says Aino is dead, declaring it so with a roundabout explanation.

At the cost of its mother's life, the baby emerged healthy, and with a victorious, hair-splitting wail of life. It was quite loud, and some nurses remark their ears ringing.

Joseph's leg stops bouncing. His highschool sweetheart, apple of his eye, his wife whom he moved halfway across Europe to marry, dead? He silently cherished that woman.

He stares down the doctor, eyes ablaze with anger and grief. It's quite ominous. Instead of a shouting match breaking out, Joseph just hunches over to cry silently.

████ ██ , 1959

Aleksander is sixteen years old. Maria is eleven years old. Their little sister is five years old.

His new little sister was named Ana. No frills or bells or whistles to the name, just simple and quaint. Which Aleksander adored.

Maria didn't share the sentiment. Her brother's undivided attention was now split up, and her dear old dad slowly is consumed by depression. This is all Ana's fault. She will suffer for something she cannot control.

Joseph has dropped the care of his youngest into the laps of his olders. One bottle of fine wine at a time, he'll drink himself to death.

Aleksander is trying to keep the family together. He doesn't know how, but through his kindness and caring nature, he can try to stitch the crooked quilt of his family back together.

June ██ , 1960

Aleksander is seventeen years old. Maria is twelve years old. Ana is six years old.

Nobody celebrated his birthday this year. No cake, no decor, it was as if he were never born at all. His little sister got the same treatment, but Aleksander gifted her his old baby blanket, hand-knitted by their mother.

Her smile stretched so wide it came off her face, eyes sparkling, "Tänan, Alex!"

He would kill to see her that happy every day.

Joseph has been lashing out. Aleksander takes the beatings for his siblings, even if it hurts, even if it takes some derring-do.

May ██ , 1965

Aleksander is twenty-one years old. Maria is seventeen years old. Ana is eleven years old.

Joseph can't stand to look at Ana. He wants to knock the teeth out of her mouth. She peeves him to no end. Her bravado does remind him of Aino, though. He hates her.

Aleksander refuses to leave the house now, for his siblings' safety, and Maria now does the grocery trips. His little sister frantically insists that Maria shouldn't be trusted with that duty.

Joseph stares at Ana.

June ██ , 1965

She wakes up. She feels bare, rather chilly. A heavy weight straddles her torso, with a bucking sensation lurching her smaller body.

Blood. Her own blood soaks her bedsheets. She can't even scream. It's as if she were paralyzed. Her vision goes spotty. Blood. Blood seeps out as a warm feeling fills her up. She fazes out of consciousness once again.

She wakes up, later. Her sheets are tough with dried blood. She's scared. She doesn't know what happened. She's scared. Terrified.

"Alex, why does my tummy hurt so much?"

December ██ , 1965

On her mother and father's bed, she births a very small infant, lacking any of his right arm below the elbow, huffing and puffing trying to get air into his malformed lungs.

Aleksander helped her birth the little one, as Maria watched from a distance, looming in the doorframe like an omen of death.

She was feeling ill for the past few months, and her tummy grew, but Joseph did nothing but make remarks about how fat she was getting.

The jeers and hormones were getting to her. It was like they crawled under her skin and rotted her from the inside out. She wants to get them out. She cuts and cuts and still they won't come out of her skin.

The little one managed to live. He was Ana's son. But it always felt better if he was called their baby brother.

February ██ , 1966

Aleksander is twenty-two years old. Maria is seventeen years old. Ana is twelve years old.

They named their new little brother Olev. He's bratty in a petty way only a baby can muster, but he often gets side-stepped in the day-to-day.

Maria doesn't lurk around as often anymore. She's often out and about on grocery runs or walks. Although, friendly neighborhood cats aren't showing up to doorsteps anymore. It seems the breadth of the stress is affecting her.

Aleksander knows exactly why Olev was born. He saw the blood in Ana's sheets. He heard her morning bouts of vomit. He's supposed to be her big brother. He's going to protect her.

March ██ , 1967

Aleksander is twenty-three years old. Maria is eighteen years old. Ana is thirteen years old. Olev is a year old.

Aleksander became a man today.

He took the axe, the axe he had been using for nearly the past decade to chop wood, to sever Joseph's head from his body.

The gore was ghastly and unsightly, but somehow so cathartic. He had to hide the body, and clean up the blood, so his siblings wouldn't be exposed to something so shocking.

Aleksander regrets not doing that sooner.

Maria threw a tantrum when Joseph didn't return. She trashed the house, overturning chairs and putting holes into the walls. She brutalized Ana, making the girl a bloodied mess. She frightened Aleksander.

What has he done?

November ██ , 1970

Aleksander is twenty-six years old. Maria is twenty-one years old. Ana is sixteen years old. Olev is four years old.

Maria has been raining true torment unto her family as of late. Probably due to the death of their father.

Aleksander has become more timid, and easier to make flinch. Ana has to step up and be the adult, because the troubled mind of her brother slips him in and out of a regressed state. Olev has grown up in the mayhem, so he's used to it, but he continues to cry when Maria and Ana fall into a yelling match.

In her scarce free time, Ana has been occupying herself with the televized footage of "The Gravel War". It's a rather useless battle over gravel, but the footage kindles the small, nearly-out flame of childishness in her.

Her gracious sister, Maria, embezzles their dead father's company to buy three connecting flights and a helicopter ride to get to Teufort, New Mexico; the site of The Gravel Wars.

Once they were hovering over the battle, Ana noticed the ground was approaching faster and faster. Until it went black with a cold splash.

November ██ , 1970 Hours Later

The sun descends behind the horizon. Her head throbs with pain. There's water that laps at her body. The scent of gunpowder and smoke occasionally brushes past her nose.

Where is she?

She thinks she knows why she's here. But she doesn't know where here is.

She's scared. She sobs.

The sun descends further down the horizon by the time she stops crying. The yellow splintering light has now faded into oranges and purples, and stars start to speckle the sky.

She realizes she's on the battlefield. The Gravel Wars battlefield. She doesn't know why, but she starts crawling. She starts crawling for anything. For a person, for death, for her own comfort, for a reason only god knows.

....to be continued in the 100-Follower special, "New Life. New You."

#tf2 original character #tf2 ocs #tf2 oc #ana ivanova #not safe for minors #minors dni #nsft #tw sa #tw sh implied #tw child abuse #tw childhood trauma

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