rippedstitch-s
Survivalist.
Asa Holland. He/Him. 46, medic. Illustrator.
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He's carved into him like something timeless - it is Canova's Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss, as Asa feels nothing but Lee. Tastes nothing but Lee.
His voice somehow heals something in him - a balm over the smallest nicks and cuts over time, wondering if Lee craves as much as he does. If the caring and devotion that Asa has swallowed to try and not be too much is shared in the ravenous darkness of his love's eyes. And hearing that voice stutter and nearly beg...
Oh, it's music. It's a 4 string quartet and Asa's body arches, his tongue licks painted red from his mouth.
My Darling.
Just you and me.
And god, he hopes that after all of this, the conversation won't be forgotten. Pushed to a dusty annex like the last time.
I'm yours... are you mine?
What do you figure?
"Fuck..." He curses, as he shifts, as hips lilt up and fingers dig into Lee's back. Please. Please just... give me something to hold onto... please... "Y-...yeah, I'm... Lee..."
His feelings crest and fall like a wave. Between wonder and doubt. Despite it all, through it all, he is full of him, he is encircled by him, enveloped in nothing but the warmth and the feeling of...
Fingers clench and those black orbs stare, unblinking, into his lover's eyes. Unspoken - he can't hold on any longer. Please.
It's a deep swelling darkness that injects itself through digging fingertips, bruising lips and biting teeth. Every touch drags him into the spill of ink until there's no telling where one begins and the other ends.
All black, all shadow. Decadent darkness.
A locked gaze and heady breaths, shared like a secret. While Asa's hands drag through curls and tug Lee down into kisses that end in teeth. If he tears skin, all the better. If he tastes metallic from a torn lip, perfect - he'll suck it clean, lick it sterile, until toes flex and a noise between a sigh and a moan leaves his mouth.
Because all he can feel is Lee. And it's all he could want. As he gets closer, simply from the heaviness of body over body and the thickness of him making him blink colorful stars into his own vision.
Another meal left on the dining table to go cold. In this moment, he couldn't care less.
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GIFT, AFFECTION, I LOVE YOU
g : gift. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?
Asa's very good at gift-giving - maybe too good. He tries really hard to figure out something his loved ones will like. Something maybe they've talked about before, or something that could be helpful in their life. Sometimes he'll hand-make something. He's done paintings for those he loves, sat and worked on new formats like clay and embroidery. He puts it all into gifts for those he considers family.
a : affection. how does your muse show affection?
If Asa likes you, he will get very touchy. He loves holding onto someone's arm, their hand, touching a face or a neck or a cheek. Touch is his ultimate love language, and it gives away who he has any type of interest in.
i : i love you. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?
It is incredibly difficult for him to say. Asa's been through a life of solitude - while he wears a lot of emotions on his sleeve, saying he loves someone is something incredibly vulnerable for him. He has very few people he can trust, very few friends. The last time he said 'i love you' was a tear-inducing, emotional experience. He's not used to feeling like he can say it.
AFFECTION ALPHABET - ASA // OZ // MARS // ASHWIN // AVIEL
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B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?
Asa loves plants, and he loves flowers. He hasn't been given a bouquet or flowers from anyone before, so yes. The idea of receiving flowers means a lot to him, and he likes them quite a bit!
His favorites are: sunflowers, poppies, carnations, and ranunculus. Honorable mention to plants like pothos, hoya, epipremnum pinnatum, and string of pearls or turtles.
AFFECTION ALPHABET - ASA // OZ // MARS // ASHWIN // AVIEL
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R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?
Hopeless romantic. Maybe to his own detriment, but hey. He can't help it.
AFFECTION ALPHABET - ASA // OZ // MARS // ASHWIN // AVIEL
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W
W : wedding. would your muse get married? why / why not?
He would! Asa's a very non-traditional person in some respects, but being able to get married to another man is a dream he's had for a looooong time. Partially to spite his shitty (dead) father and his shitty (alive) mother. But also, because that level of closeness, of devotion to someone else, really does matter to him quite a bit. Things like intimacy, to Asa, are beyond just physical touch (though he loves that too) - but someone showing up for him, being proud of him, and wanting to devote themselves to him, is a huge act of intimacy for him.
AFFECTION ALPHABET - ASA // OZ // MARS // ASHWIN // AVIEL
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ASA // OZ // MARS // ASHWIN // AVIEL
( * VALENTINE’S DAY ALPHABET !
send some letters to find out more about my muse !
A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?
B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?
C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?
D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?
E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?
F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?
G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?
H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?
I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?
J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?
K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?
L : LOVE. who does your muse love?
M : MOONLIGHT. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?
N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?
O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?
P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?
Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?
R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?
S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?
T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?
U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?
V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?
W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?
X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?
Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?
Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?
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Asa adds that off-white color into the faces, brushing it in a circular motion. Then soft lines to form ears. Some more oblong than others. "Exactly... like. You just feel so relieved. This big release of emotion." He sets the paintbrush down to move to the sandwich Matty had brought for him instead.
"Thinking of finding your own spot then?" He worries about Mathias, of course. But the idea of him finding his own apartment that he can do whatever he wants with... a place to customize and make unique to his own tastes. "Do you need help looking? I've used a few of those listing sites before." Asa's always looking at listings for homes, apartments, condos. He likes to see what's out there.
At the moment, he spends more time at the loft than anywhere else. And he likes his apartment, sure. But the idea of a bigger home... a more private studio space, maybe. A spare bedroom or two to turn into things for important people in his life. Room to grow.
He unwraps his sandwich and picks up one half. "Then I can give you some plants, propagations, as a housewarming gift."
Did he know? "I think I get it". Mathias had felt manic before, but it wasn't cathartic at all. There wasn't a burst or release of emotion that ever left him feeling good. "It's like getting to do something you've been waiting a long time for. I've felt that recently, it's nice".
Mathias worked in more paint on his canvas, so far he liked what he was seeing. It was a relaxing activity that didn't require too much thought. he could just let his hand move and the painting reveal itself. "That would be nice, but I don't want them for the loft. I want them for my own place. But I'm sure if you brought plants, Lee will let you put them in his loft".
Mathias was starting to have dreams of owning his own loft, a place he could call his own, with plants and a kitchen. With his raise it would be easy to pay for, he just needed to figure out how to put ownership over something like that.
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It's a deep swelling darkness that injects itself through digging fingertips, bruising lips and biting teeth. Every touch drags him into the spill of ink until there's no telling where one begins and the other ends.
All black, all shadow. Decadent darkness.
A locked gaze and heady breaths, shared like a secret. While Asa's hands drag through curls and tug Lee down into kisses that end in teeth. If he tears skin, all the better. If he tastes metallic from a torn lip, perfect - he'll suck it clean, lick it sterile, until toes flex and a noise between a sigh and a moan leaves his mouth.
Because all he can feel is Lee. And it's all he could want. As he gets closer, simply from the heaviness of body over body and the thickness of him making him blink colorful stars into his own vision.
Another meal left on the dining table to go cold. In this moment, he couldn't care less.
Time again, that neck offered his way like a banquet. Lee buries his nose and his mouth there, breathing his scent, nibbling at skin. It doesn't last long, however — as he instead pulls back only to press their foreheads together, stitched at the hairline.
Fingers dig hard into that bend of Asa's knee now, and Lee's eyes locks into his, as manic as passion will allow it.
If someone saw them from outside the window, surely they would be beautiful. But from up this close, it's just carnage. Like they'd claw their way inside each other if they could.
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"Yes. Cathartic." He grins, and nudges into the other's shoulder with his own. "That's the perfect word for it."
It's a good question - is being a mess a good thing? "Yeah... yeah, sometimes sobbing and laughing feels really good. Crying because you're so happy, you know?" Asa admits. The last time had been in front of Lee. After he'd told him he loved him. The release of all that emotion, like he'd expelled the largest heaviness from his chest.
As long as you forgive me, I don't care about the rest.
Speaking of happy tears... Asa's trying very hard to repress them now. A soft and surprised smile, and the urge to tug Mathias over into a hug is pushed down because he really doesn't want to overwhelm the other. "You are." He agrees with the affirmation, only validating it further. "Oh wait, really? I mean, you see all the plants I have... I bet I could give you some propagations. They'd look nice in the loft. And Hank wouldn't even try to eat them, I don't think. And it's good practice for having a full plant."
"Cathartic, right? That's the word for it?" Mathias tried to think of a time where that happened to him. He didn't know if he had ever needed a release like that. It must have been nice though, to have a weight lifted off your shoulders and to have closure of some kind.
Mathias nodded along with Asa. The other man always had very good things to day, even if Mathias didn't really get them most of the time. They were comforting nonetheless and sometimes that's all he needed. Comfort. "But being a mess is a good thing, right? It felt good to sob and laugh?" The last time he cried, he was with Asa. It didn't feel good back then, but there were a lot more things going on with him.
"As long as you forgive me, I don't are about the rest". Mathias wasn't sure what he'd do if the people he liked stopped forgiving him. The pain from his own blood doing that was still fresh and he didn't want to go through that again with his found family.
"I am human" He said out loud like an affirmation. "Oh, I like gardening. I think when I move out and get my own place, I want to have some indoor plants".
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He can tell Mathias is listening, and digesting what he's saying. And he's glad- because this is something he's rarely spoken about. Mostly with Lee, and he's told Aria recently about the murder of his father too. But going into such detail... it's new, for him.
"It felt good." Asa says honestly. "A huge release... it's like you've been full of this toxic energy and it all gets shoved out of you." He glances over at Matty and chuckles. "This is gross, but- you know how often, it feels better after you throw up? Because vomiting is your body's way of getting rid of something that's harmful to your body? It... feels almost like that. Empty, but. I dunno. Knowing I didn't have to be scared of him any more had me... sobbing, and laughing. I was a mess. A bloody mess.
He watches the hitman use the green and begins mixing a color for himself - just a dark brown, with thicker pigment. He begins to add it in. Dark shapes for clothing. Still very simplified. "I think... because I know you, and how you are... I could forgive you. But it also depends on who, I'll be honest."
Then, a softer smile. He reaches for the sandwiches the other had brought, setting them down so they don't forget. "I've told you, love. You are human. Regardless of what you do, what you say." He begins mixing a whitish beige. "Sometimes... a hobby like painting, or writing, or... hell, gardening. It can make you feel more like... a person."
Mathias liked to hear about why other people killed. He had heard it all at this point, but it wasn't any less interesting. He saw death as a gift, while others saw it was damnation or an offering to someone else. Since he no longer felt like he had to uphold his own beliefs, he was willing to hear what others had to say.
He was unfortunately fortunate that his family wanted nothing to do with him after he was sent away. The never contacted him, or tried to move him around. They were set in letting him rot. Because of that, he did feel pity for Asa since the other man never did anything wrong in the first place. "What did it feel like to kill someone like that with all that emotion in you?"
Mathias shook his head, "I don't believe in any of that. I just want to know if the living will forgive me". Despite what Jude would tell him, Mathias knew he was beyond forgiveness on a spiritual level. "Like if I hurt or killed someone you knew, would you forgive me for it?"
Mathias brought his knees to his chest, digesting everything being told to him. Then he watched as Asa made new colors out of other ones. It was fascinating to see what could be done with just a bit of blue, yellow, and white. "There's a lot to think about when you paint it seems". He scooped the green paint on his brush and began putting it to the canvas.
"This is nice. It makes me feel like I can really be human. Jude says that I've always been human, but I don't think he fully gets it. But you make me feel like I can be human, Asa".
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ANDREW SCOTT
Emmy Magazine, April 2024
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"That's more than okay, love. Please, continue." He'd never stop someone from enjoying an ice cream while he draws them. Especially when he's mostly just finishing up on her legs.
It's just a gesture after all, so her face hardly has any features. The simple lines of a brow and chin, the shadow of a nose. There's the shape of hair, too. But he'd mostly been blocking things in, and so it takes him only an extra minute or so until he's finished. "You can move! Thank you, darling, I normally can get it done before the person's even started moving but I suppose I'm a bit out of practice." He adds, setting his pencils down and brushing raven black hair out of his face.
⏤ It was one of the days when she had time for herself, which is rare. She had issues with back to sleep since she works at night. Per usual, she was eating her ice cream, vanilla. Her favorite flavor. And her gaze was lost on the other showcase before. Tiffany's. Elizabeth enjoys seeing beautiful jewelry pieces or visiting showcases of fancy designers.
The ice cream was almost melted in her hand when her mind drifted away, to take the beauty of the pearl necklace, wondering how it was well made, step by step… So her tongue wrapped on the tip of ice cream where it was melting until… A voice brought back to reality, and she turned her face to Asa. ❛ Sure! ❜ She frowned and then she back to the position she was in seconds prior. It made her think about the time she posed for a few artists who made a painting of her. ❛ But I will eat this ice cream, 'kay? I don't want to get so dirty. My Kleenex is over. ❜
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"The first two people... it was hate." Asa murmurs. His eyes are intense with concentration as he watches his own brush glide along the canvas. Scrub in shapes again and again. The 'crowd' is more visible - darkness for their torsos and simple shapes of oblong ovals for heads. Shaded in shadow for the underside of noses, for the line of brows. Occasional hands - scribbly fingers.
"My father was more out of... desperation." Asa looks back to the man beside him. He hasn't spoken so openly about this in a while. Select few know about it at all. "He had falsified my records... multiple times. To keep me going from ward to ward. The last one... St. Irene's, just outside of London. Was just so... corrupt. I was so angry. And they sent me back to him due to overcrowding, and he was ready to send me out again... and I was 36 and I was so, so tired... of my entire life being tucked away. All based on my father's whims."
He drops the brush into the water to clean it. "So. I killed him. Out of anger, out of no other choice. Desperation, rage..."
At a church...? Asa chews on the inside of his cheek. Was this related to Father Jude again? "I think... if you believe in God and all that, it depends on the religion and your own beliefs?" Asa's not the best to ask about such things. Orthodox Christianity ruined his life and it's not something he exactly thinks fondly of.
"Right. So... now you can go in with colors... pick one you see a lot in the image, and start to block it in. Focus more on the shapes, and not the actual greater picture. Sure, it's a stained glass window... but this right here is just a rectangle of a bright green, right?" He helps - sets up a few colors on a palette for them both to use. Then pushes some of the green in with a tiny bit of blue, a whole lot of white... yellow, too. Until he's made almost the exact color. "Mixing colors is tough to learn but once you start to get it..." He chuckles.
Mathias thought about the rest of his family that still lived. They abandoned him, and perhaps they were beyond forgiveness. But then there were people like his cousin, who he was slowly working things out with. He had never felt guilt over what he did because he didn't see it as a bad thing. Sure Mathias probably disrupted a lot of families due to his killings, and maybe there were people out there who hated him without even knowing. Would they ever forgive him?
Hearing how Asa killed his own father made Mathias frown. "I don't think I've ever killed out of hate before. When I killed my dad, I did it because he wanted to be with my brother more than me. It was a gift and mercy I suppose". He looked back at his painting, wondering if his parents ever painted anything when they were alive.
"I killed three people at this church, and hurt several others in the weeks after. Do you think I'll be forgiven for that?" Mathias put his brush down, "What do I do next after underpainting?"
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Asa works from his mind - the brush moves in broad strokes. Big circles and shapes, and scrubbing in basic color. But nothing's done precisely. Clearly, it's only meant to be the blueprint of something bigger. By now, Matty has seen the type of work Asa does on his canvases. Seeing the final product- and as they sit together at this point in time, how Asa begins things.
The question surprises him, and he looks at the other gently. "...I think forgiveness is.. healing, in certain respects. But it depends on the case." An exhale as he looks at the canvas, leaning back. "I forgive... some. There were nurses, some of the doctors... I've forgiven some. Others, I've dealt with." His father, dead. Dr. Hartley, dead.
His mother... he clears his throat. "I can forgive a lot of things... I try very hard to. And maybe I can get past events that occurred. But my only way of forgiving my father... was hammering his skull in." And Asa's eyes are dark like a starless sky as they turn to Mathias and a tiny smile forms.
There wasn't a wrong way to do it. Mathias kept repeating that in his head. There wasn't a wrong way to do it, but people made so many different things. Also not everyone was successful in it either. He kept thinking about how that could be.
"Some of the people where I was also made art". He never really got to see it, since he kept to himself for the most part. But one moment did stick out to him, when an older kid had given some drawing he made during therapy to his parents. Mathias remembered feeling jealous in that moment.
"That's a very hopeful way of thinking, Asa" Mathias commented. He continued to work out the shapes, thinking of where he needed to put them, and how best to translate the picture to canvas. "Asa...Do you ever think about forgiving the people who sent you to those psyche wards?" He asked. He was curious about the other's feelings towards that. Mathias personally didn't have the choice to be sent away, nor did he really have an understanding of where he was going. "i was told recently that forgiveness is good for you, or something".
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...
He likes the type of questions Mathias is asking. It's important to figure things out on your own with art, after all. "So, that's a good point- you could use a pencil! Sometimes the pencil is harder to use because of the point. It can occasionally damage the canvas, since it's on stretcher bars." He explains.
Then, as he's working on the very basic shapes, he shrugs. "But people use anything. I like using charcoal sometimes. Or hey, I mean... graphite, pencil, chalk... anything. There's no wrong way to make art. That's kind of the beauty of it."
The gratitude from Matty just gets a bigger smile out of Asa. "Of course, love. Back in Beauford Cross... the uh, the first institution I was sent to. They only let me have crayons and notebook paper. But you learn to use whatever you can. Once I was in Llangadog Coed, I had markers, even sometimes paints. But I just... experimented. There was no right way. Just... exploring and throwing it all at whatever you have. It's like... life. Is that corny? You do whatever you can, with whatever shit you have. Sometimes the art comes out terrible. You keep working, maybe next time it'll be a bit less terrible."
"I see" Mathias didn't think it was too comfortable, but if Asa did it this way then he should too.
He listened and copied what Asa did. None of this really made sense to him, and there were more questions popping into his head about why they needed to do this, or why they needed to use this color. "Why can't we just use a pencil then?" That made more sense than to use paint that they were just going to cover up anyways.
Mathias looked between his reference and the canvas, trying his best to copy what he saw. The world was a beautiful thing at times, and he was coming to terms with that. For so long his view on it was muddy and tarnished. There was never a moment where he thought he'd be able to sit and paint on a random day. It was always go go go for him, the strings of fate guiding him like a puppet into an early grave.
But life was different for him now. He could have those down times, and he could breathe until his lungs were filled. The brush in his hand didn't feel like a knife, the lack of weight allowing his hand to relax as he painted.
"...Thank you for this...by the way" Mathias spoke quietly, not looking at Asa. "I...I don't remember the last time I made something like this". If Mathias had to guess, the last time he painted would have been when his hands were young and a messy painting could be stuck to the family fridge.
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[ TALK ] For Matty uwu
[ TALK ] for one muse to bring up an important conversation they’ve been meaning to have
There's not much he hasn't told Matty, at this point. Through the time he's known him, Asa's learned a lot - and maybe some of it startles him. Scares him. But... regardless, he's been there. Tried to be, anyways.
And slowly, the hitman's found out about Asa, too. His life in and out of mental institutions. His father's murder and the subsequent murders after. He knows about Asa's feelings for his father - kind of hard to avoid that one, anyways.
Long streaks of sunlight enter the loft through those gorgeous windows. And Asa's gripping the sofa too tight. Unshed tears in his eyes- he's just come back from a seizure. Blinked slowly back into the present, seeing the high ceiling, the art on the walls... and then there's Mathias. Standing there in the doorway. Asa's not sure how long he's been there. Did he see? Did he watch Asa's body stiffen up, his eyes go vacant and far away? The twitching of his inked and now scarred fingers? Sometimes, the mindless speaking under his breath?
"It's-... I'm..." He's hazy, but trying to explain already. Embarrassed. "I'm okay, it was... a seizure. They're not. Um..." Shit. "Just every so often. Just a couple of minutes long. See? I'm okay." Convincing himself. Flexing fingers, trying to smile. Tears still drip down his cheeks, regardless.
NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY : ASA // OZ // MARS // ASHWIN // AVIEL
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