Jump to content
Existing user? Sign In

Sign In



Sign Up

Recommended Posts

I’m back with a fic that I am actually quite proud of! It’s long and very plot heavy - I love angst, so be prepared for a lot of that.

Trigger warning for cursing, fights, recreational drug use (teenagers), underage drinking, brief descriptions of violence, past child abuse, and the like. I know it sounds really angsty and heavy now, but I promise you that my stories usually get worse before they get better! Just remember that they do get better. Trust me.

I’ll stop rambling now. Enjoy! x

 

✧✧✧

 

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“...”

“...Hello?”

“...”

“We’re sending an officer to your location right now. Please stay on the line.”

Despite what the 911 operator says, sixteen year old Elliot shakes his head and hangs up. He can hear faint screams and sirens from the distance, so he does what he does best.

He runs.

 

//

 

SIX HOURS EARLIER

 

Sent to: Ollie

ollie can u buy more of my medicine? I only have enough for this week

 

Sent to: Elliot

Of course, squirt. What time are you gonna be home?

 

Sent to: Ollie

idk probably around 4:30 some seniors said they wanted to see me

 

Sent to: Elliot

Seniors? El, is everything okay?

 

Sent to: Ollie

yeah haha don’t worry about it

 

          Sixteen-year old Elliot Anderson slips his phone in his pocket, ignoring the constant buzzing as his older brother continues to text him incessantly. He walks down the hall towards the cafeteria, whistling quietly to calm his nerves. Classes finished about an hour ago, but one of the older, popular seniors had bumped into him in the bathroom, saying that they needed to talk after classes.

 

          The senior, Seth, had smiled at him and reassured him that it was nothing serious, and that he should come to the cafeteria when his last period was over. Elliot nodded and scurried away as fast as possible, biting his nails as his brain made up different possibilities to why a senior would want to see him, out of all people. Shrugging his nerves off and actually feeling a little bit excited, Elliot waited for the bell to ring and now found himself walking to meet Seth again.

 

          As soon as he steps into the cafeteria, he sees Seth grin. “Hey, over here!” Seth calls out, waving him over. Elliot smiles shyly and tightens his grip on his bag, silently quickening his step.

 

          “Hi,” Elliot mumbles. “Um, you said that you wanted to see me?”

          “Yeah. So I’m gonna get straight to the point – I’m hosting a party later tonight, and I want you to come.”

          Elliot blinks. Me? He thinks, wondering why Seth would invite him out of all people. “Um…”

          “I know, I’m sorry if I sound creepy,” the older boy chuckles. “It’s just that most of us seniors just got accepted into colleges, and we wanna make the most out of the last few weeks we have together,”

          “But I’m not a senior,” Elliot pouts, feeling a little bit confused. “Why am I invited?”

          “Cause you’re cool, man,” Seth laughs, playfully hitting his shoulder. Elliot winces. “And, you aren’t the only sophomore invited. You won’t be out of place or anything, I’ll be with you the whole time. I can even introduce you to a couple hot chicks from the school downtown.”

 

          Elliot blushes and looks down, hiding his smile. He actually felt flattered that he was being invited out for once. “Can you give me the address? I’ll ask my brother later.”

 

          “Sure, man. Hope to see you there!” Seth smiles, grabbing Elliot’s phone and writing down his address on the notes application. Elliot thanks him and then leaves, picking up his pace and running home as soon as he is out of the campus.

 

          He gets home five minutes later, basically collapsing on the couch and breathing heavily. “I’m home!” He calls out.

 

          Elliot’s older brother, Oliver, comes downstairs and sighs when he sees how exhausted and sweaty his little brother is. “Did you run home again?” He asks rhetorically, stepping into the kitchen.

 

          “Yeah,” Elliot breathes out. “But hey! I got invited to a party!”

 

          “A party?” Oliver frowns, peeking out of the kitchen. He eventually comes out and hands Elliot a glass of water.

 

          “Yeah,” Elliot shrugs, sitting down and taking a sip. “Some guy named Seth invited me.”


          “Do you know him? Elliot, this sounds a bit sketchy…”

 

          “We have algebra together,” Elliot explains. “He sits behind me.”

 

          “But do you actually know him?” Oliver repeats, giving Elliot a stern look. “I don’t want you to be there alone.”

 

          “Ollie, I’ll be fine,” Elliot groans dramatically. “Besides, I’m not the only sophomore going. Plus, didn’t you say you wanted me to make new friends?”

 

          “I know I did, but I’m just not sure if a party is the best place to make long lasting friendships.”

 

          “Ollie,” Elliot whines, sounding very much like a child. “Please, I actually really wanna go.”

 

          “Since when were you into parties, huh?” Oliver chuckles.

 

          “You’re mean,” Elliot sticks his tongue out, leaning on his older brother. “Look, you can even pick me up at 11 or something. I just wanna check it out.”

 

          “Okay, I will,” Oliver decides, his mood becoming more serious. “Have you taken your medicine today?”

 

          Elliot blushes and nods slowly. “But I just ran out. I told you-”

 

          “Are you sure you feel up to socializing with a bunch of older people?”

 

          “Yes, I’m gonna be fine,” Elliot sighs, feeling irritable. “I’m 16, Ollie. I can take care of myself.”

 

          “I know you can. I just worry.”

 

          “You worry too much,” he mumbles. “Just let me do my own thing, and I’ll be fine.”

 

//

 

          “Hey guys, the little one made it!”

 

          Elliot smiles nervously, looking around the house. The music is blaring from the speakers and suddenly he wants to run back outside and chase after Oliver’s car. Shaking the thought out of his head, he smiles tightly. “Um, h-hi,”

 

          “Hey little dude,” an older girl, clearly intoxicated, grins at him and leans closer, bringing her lips to his ears. “You’re the one who can hook us up, right?”

 

          Elliot’s smile drops almost as quickly as it came. Hook them up? With what?

 

          “Sandra, shut up,” Seth chuckles, pulling her away from Elliot and wrapping his own arm around him before dropping his voice to a low whisper. “But yeah, this is our man. I’ve seen him pop pills several time in the school bathrooms.”


          Elliot’s face pales. Seth had seen him taking his medicine? And he thought they were drugs? “Seth, I don’t think you—”

 

          Seth’s grip on Elliot’s shoulder tightens painfully, making the young teenager whimper in surprise. The older kids surrounding him are suddenly looking at him with such judgmental eyes and he feels his heartbeat rise. “Seth,” he whispers, looking up at the taller boy. “That hurts.”

 

          Seth forces a fake smile in his direction before he lets go and leaves. “Sorry, kid. Stay here. I’ll go grab you a drink.”

 

          “I’ll go with you,” an older boy says, following after Seth.

 

          The atmosphere has clearly changed. Elliot shyly looks up at the group of teenagers around him and quickly looks back down. Sandra leans closer to him again and he flinches away. “So, kid, what type of pills were Seth talking about?”

 

          Elliot gulps. “Oh, um… I don’t think it’s the type you usually-”

 

          “Not the type?” Another guy speaks up, looking at Elliot in an extremely intimidating manner. “What type are they, then? Do you just not wanna share ‘em with us?”

 

          “N-no, that’s not it at all,” Elliot says nervously, wringing his hands together. “I’m uh, actually diagnosed with—”

 

          “What’s going on?” Seth appears, handing Elliot a drink. Everyone shrugs and goes back to what they’re doing, except for the guy who was just threatening him. Elliot is thankful for the distraction, so he quickly takes a big gulp of whatever drink was given him and chokes it down. It tastes horrible. It burns his throat.

 

          “Finish that,” Sandra speaks up as they start walking away, giving him a wink. “Come find us when you’re ready to share your loot.”

 

          Elliot looks up at Seth, confused. “Are you going with them?” He asks, eyes wide.

 

          “Yeah,” Seth replies, turning around. “Wanna come?”

 

          Elliot gulps and his eyes follow the path that the older seniors are following. It’s dark and it smells like alcohol. He looks down and shakes his head, feeling hurt that Seth just broke his promise.

 

          “Suit yourself,” Seth shrugs, and Elliot watches as they all disappear into the darkness of the hallway.

 

//

 

          Everything is spinning.

 

          Elliot’s been tipsy before, sure, during late night Christmas dinners with Oliver, but he’s never felt this...fuzzy. He can’t hear the conversations of the people around him, he can’t walk in a straight line, he can’t understand the lyrics of the music playing, and most importantly, he can’t find the bathroom.

 

          It’s been around two and a half hours since Seth’s group left him alone with a drink, and his bladder has been slowly filling up since then. The fact that he’s nervous doesn’t help his need to use the toilet. It makes everything worse. He’s been trying to find a bathroom for the past half hour, but the alcohol in his system makes it nearly impossible. Now, he feels close to wetting himself right there. He grips the front of his jeans and looks around for Seth, taking a deep breath as he walks down the sketchy looking hallway.

 

          He finds Seth and his friends talking by the corner of the room, and he walks towards them unsteadily. “Seth,” he slurs, grabbing the older boy’s arm. Seth pushes him away automatically. “What do you want, kid?”

 

          “I needa go to the bathroom,” he hiccups, his words slurred together. Instead of the older guys leading him there, they all start laughing at him. Elliot looks up and watches them through confused eyes. He squirms uncomfortably. What’s so funny?

 

          “James, check out the kid! He’s so messed up!” Sandra yells, dragging one of her friends with her. Elliot takes a tentative step back.
         

          “I needa go,” he repeats, his voice pleading now. “Can, can you tell me where it is, please?”

 

          “Give us your pills first, and maybe we’ll bring you there.” The guy named James speaks up, his eyes dark. “We invited you here so you could share, kid. Don’t keep all the fun to yourself.”

 

          “I don’ have any pills,” Elliot tries to explain again, but he finds it extremely difficult to form coherent sentences. “No pills. Ran out. Didn’t bring ‘em. I have to pee.”

         

          “Liar,” he snarls, pushing Elliot backwards. Hard. He loses his balance, letting go of Seth’s arm and landing on his bottom. Seth narrows his eyes, but Elliot is just confused... These are older teenagers, right? Shouldn’t they be taking care of him the same way Oliver does?

 

          “Look at him,” James sneers, kicking his Elliot’s side. “No offense, Seth, but you brought my hopes up. This kid is fucking lame.”

 

          Sandra laughs and agrees, pushing Elliot back down once he tries to stand up again. “He’s a lightweight, though. This is entertaining.”

 

          Elliot whimpers and curls up as the pain radiates through his upper body. His head is spinning and bladder is throbbing again, making him feel the beginning of a panic attack starting. As quickly as he can, he crawls away from the group and sprints to another room. He can’t breathe at all. His head is spinning and he wants— no, he needs his older brother. He needs Oliver.

 

          With shaky hands, Elliot pulls his phone out and presses the first number on speed dial. He sinks to the ground, his free hand gripping his chest, as he prays for Oliver to pick up.

 

          He doesn’t.

 

          Elliot starts to cry by the third time Oliver ignores his call. His throat is closing up and his entire body is trembling with the force of the sobs he keeps trying (and failing) to hold back. He hasn’t had an anxiety episode this bad in months, and the only person who can calm him down is Oliver, but… Oh no, Oliver’s gonna be so upset that he couldn’t hold it together. Oliver hasn’t answered his calls, either. Oliver’s gonna hate him and leave him the same way Dad and Mom did.

 

          He really can’t breathe now, and he’s growing more terrified by the second. Oh god, what if he’s dying? He feels exactly like he felt four years ago, the year he and Oliver were taken away from his parents - the year his life had become a steady series of anxiety attacks. Every time he closes his eyes he sees his mom’s disappointed face and hears his dad’s angry yells. With a choked whimper, Elliot rubs his eyes and tries to breathe. He dials the only number that he knows will help him — he calls 911.

 

PRESENT TIME

 

          Elliot bolts away from the house the moment he hears an ambulance. He’s still stuck in the same flashback - the smell of alcohol, the screams and sirens, and the feeling of being helpless is way too familiar. He runs and runs and runs until his legs collapse, and he curls up on the corner of the street, his legs, chest, and bladder burning. He rolls over to throw up, crying as he does so. There are people chasing him. It’s over.

 

          “Stop right there!”

 

          Elliot chokes and backs up when he hears that, his bladder releasing for a brief moment. His crotch is suddenly warm and wet, but he manages to stem the flow as two large figures come up to him.

 

          “Young man, stand up,” the low voice says.

 

          “Dad, m s-sorry,” Elliot slurs, hiding his face. “D-didn’t mean to -”

 

          “Dad? Young man, what are you talking about?”

 

          “S-sorry sir, I j-just - I c-can’t breathe -”

 

          “Okay, calm down, son. Let’s focus on breathing. Can you tell me your name?” The man says quietly.

 

          Elliot rubs his eyes and nods quickly. “El-Elliot.”

 

          “Okay Elliot, listen to my voice. I want you to take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds...”

 

          Elliot tries to listen to the voice, but his heart is beating too fast and he’s too far gone. He looks up helplessly at the man, tries to understand what he’s saying, but becomes way too overwhelmed. Soon enough, Elliot slumps forward and passes out while the sounds of the sirens come closer.

 

//

 

          Elliot wakes up in the backseat of a police car.

 

          He jerks up and hits his head, whimpering loudly as he feels the pressure in his bladder. It’s more than uncomfortable now. It physically hurts, and he can feel how bloated his stomach is. He’s dizzy and tired and nauseous and he feels like he’s about to pass out again just as the car is parked. “Come out, kid,” The policeman says gently. “Call me Officer Miller.”

 

          Officer Miller leads Elliot to a room and makes him sit down. Seth and his friends enter beside him and Elliot can feel the tension and intimidation radiating off them. “Stay here,” Officer Miller says, leaving Elliot alone with a bunch of angry high school seniors.

 

          “I was supposed to play a basketball game tomorrow, you snitch,” Seth growls after he is sure they are left alone, his eyes flashing. “Now I can’t because my parents are gonna kill me thanks to you — I brought you here to have some fun, and you ruined everything for everyone. Everyone hates you now, Elliot. You’re nothing but a stupid loser—"

 

          Elliot covers his ears.

 

          Seth’s words drown out and become a muffled ringing. He can’t process anything anymore - the lights are too bright, Seth is talking is too loud, and everything is just wrong. He quietly pulls his olive green beanie down to cover his eyes, biting his lower lip so hard to the point where it actually begins to draw blood. His hands are shaking. So are his legs. And his shoulders. His entire body, actually.

 

          And he really, really, needs the toilet now.

 

          He doesn’t know how long he sits there, rocking back and forth while a couple of policemen eventually everybody away to different rooms. He starts to count backwards from one-hundred, to get his breaths to even out, but it’s extremely difficult to do so when everything feels like it’s his fault. He unconsciously crosses his legs and curls up, hiding his face from view as his bladder continues to throb painfully.

 

          “Elliot, kid? Can you follow me, please?”

 

          Elliot stands up on shaky legs, looking up at the same policeman smiling at him and barely registering the fact that his bladder has nearly reached its breaking point. He bites his thumbnail and follows the officer down the hall, his breaths hitching as he passes by his peers, who are all staring at him like he murdered someone. He clenches his eyes shut again and tries to swallow the vomit slowly rising up his throat. He can hear everybody around him murmur angrily, and he wraps the blanket around him tighter.

 

          “My curfew was an hour ago. My mom’s gonna kill me.”

          “Is he the kid who snitched? What a killjoy.”

 

          His head is still fuzzy, but he can understand the meaning of those words now. It hurts, but it’s true. He deserves it.

 

          Elliot is brought down the hall and into another room full of officers. He freezes and backs up against Officer Miller, who pushes him forward and into a chair gently. Elliot barely notices the small trail of urine that has begun running down his left leg in a  slow and steady stream. Luckily for him, however, it stops the moment he sits down.

 

          Once again, Elliot can hear a bunch of voices speaking at the same time, and he shifts uncomfortably. This time, however, the voices aren’t angry. They sound...concerned?

 

“Officer Ramirez, give me a quick summary, please.”

“Okay. Well, the owner of the house that the party happened in is an nineteen year old male named Seth Hernandez. All the young adolescents who were caught under the influence are in the waiting room right now. Their families are being notified of the current events as of the moment.”

“And the boy who called the police?”

“Sixteen year old Elliot Anderson. He was under the influence of something as well, actually, but we suspect that somebody laced his drink without his consent.”

“Was there anything else?”

“No. When we found him, he was two blocks away from where the party was, actually.”

“Two blocks away? Why?”

“From what we understood, he ran away once dispatch arrived at the location. He was nearing a panic attack, and Officer Miller was the only one who was able to calm him down.”

 

          Elliot tries to block out the rest of the words. He doesn’t want to hear how pathetic he sounds one more time, so once again, he pulls his beanie down and covers his ears. Everything hurts. There are tears dripping down his cheeks slowly, his heartbeat is erratic, and he’s never needed the bathroom as bad as he does now.

 

          “Elliot?” A young police officer speaks, resting her hands on his shoulders. “You can open your eyes, you know.”

 

          Elliot whimpers and shakes his head. He’s in so much trouble - he’s trying to prepare himself for the beatings to come. Not only does he feel his anxiety rising, making him nauseous, he also feels his bladder throb urgently, signaling that he needs to find a toilet now - he turns his head up a bit to ask the officers if he can be excused, but they’re all so tall and scary, so he ends up throwing up all over his shoes, and on the shoes of the officer in front of him.

 

          “Ngh,” Elliot groans before his stomach lurches, and he throws up once more. He starts hyperventilating again, his hands shaking intensely. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll clean it up, please don’t be angry with me, I’m—”

 

          “It’s alright,” Officer Ramirez says, rubbing Elliot’s back as another officer hands places a basin on his lap. “Honey, you have a lot of chemicals in your body. You need to get it out of your system.”

 

          Elliot nods and spits into the basin, his hands shaking.

 

          “Is there anybody you can call?” She asks him once he is finished being sick. “Parents, maybe?”

 

          Elliot stiffens and shakes his head. “N-no parents. I live with my older brother.”

 

          “How old is he?”

 

          “Twenty se-seven,” he hiccups, wiping his eyes. “I wanna go home -”

 

          “Please give us his number,” she interrupts him, handing him a piece of paper and a pencil. “We’ll notify him of your situation right now so he can pick you up and you can go home.”

 

         Elliot does as he is told and resumes hiding behind his beanie while rocking back and forth. Oliver is going to be so mad, he thinks. Then he's gonna send me away forever.

 

//

 

          Twenty minutes later, Oliver is at the police station, frantically trying to find the officers that called him.

 

          "Are you Oliver Anderson?"

         

          Oliver whips around and nods quickly. "Yes," he says, out of breath. "I got a call about my brother Elliot. Where is he? Is he okay? I need to see him and-"

 

          "Sir, please calm down. Your brother is safe, but he has been panicking since we found him," Officer Ramirez explains, and Oliver feels his blood run cold. "We need you to stay calm so that he begins to feel safe. Okay?"

 

          "Okay," Oliver nods, taking a deep breath and following her into a room near the back of the hall. When he steps into the room, the first thing he sees is Elliot curled up on a chair, covering his ears. "Elliot, honey," Officer Ramirez says, and Elliot's eyes snap up. "Your brother is here."

 

          Elliot loses control slowly at first, then all at once — his bladder decides to give up the moment he sees his older brother. The warm, wet liquid soaks the front of his pants and snakes around to the back of his knees. He doesn’t even try to stop it. He feels sickening relief as his bottom gets drenched with urine, but the relief doesn’t last long. Heat begins to pool in his lap and soon he feels tears fill his eyes.

 

          The stream lasts for what feels like hours, dripping on the carpeted office floor in soft trickles, and by the time Elliot has finished going, even the bottom of his shirt is soaked.

 

          Nobody says anything for a couple seconds. Elliot’s entire face is burning and then suddenly, without any warning, he bursts into tears.

 

          Chaos in the room ensues. Elliot feels Oliver come closer to him and rub his back as he cries while the other officers are hustling around. “El, are you done?” He whispers, and Elliot nods shakily, his shoulders trembling as he sobs brokenly into his hands. Oliver quietly bends down to tie his jacket around his waist and takes his hand. He mouths a quick “sorry” to the officers, and prompts Elliot to step out of the huge puddle of urine. Despite the tears, Elliot complies, his sneakers splashing the warm puddle around, leaving wet footprints around the carpet.

 

          “Shh, El, breathe deeply now,” Oliver whispers, keeping his hand on Elliot’s back and continuing to try and calm him down. Elliot has never felt this distraught before, so he clings to his older brother as he sobs and hiccups, gripping the back of Oliver’s shirt like a lifeline.

 

          “I’m so sorry,” Oliver mumbles to Officer Ramirez and Officer Miller. “He, he has anxiety. Clinically. This doesn’t normally happen, actually — thank you for taking care of him so well, though.”

 

          “No need to explain, young man,” Officer Ramirez smiles at him and hands him her card. “If ever you need anything, please know that you have friends right here in the station.”

 

          It all becomes a blur after that. Elliot feels hands pick him up and he continues to cry pathetically into Oliver’s neck. The officers lead them out and promise they’ll sort everything out the next day and Oliver brings them to the car. He tucks his little brother in the backseat, trying his best to avoid any more complications, kisses his forehead, and drives them home.

 

//

 

          “We’re home, El.”

 

          Elliot opens his eyes and blearily looks around. Oliver unlocks his door and helps him stand, rubbing his back the whole time. He quietly unlocks the door to their house and ushers Elliot inside.

 

          “I th-thought they liked me.”

 

          Oliver feels his heart break as he hears his little brother speak coherently for the first time since he picked him up. “Elliot, kiddo…”

 

          “They were using me,” he continues shakily, looking up. There are tears dripping down his nose. “When I got there, they said they wanted me to hook them up with drugs. They were talking about my anxiety meds. They—they kept pushing me. And it felt like—”

 

          “El, you don’t have to continue—”

 

          “—it felt like Dad,” Elliot’s voice breaks, and he buries his face in his hands. “It felt like Dad, and everything was too loud, and I think they put something in my drink and they were laughing at me and, and I couldn’t think straight,”

 

          Oliver takes two giant steps forward and tugs his little brother close. Fuck Elliot’s soaked pants, all he cares about now is making sure his little brother feels safe again. He picks him up and sits down on the couch with him on his lap, rubbing his back. “It’s okay,” he soothes gently. “It’s okay, Elliot. Dad’s not here anymore. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

 

          “I didn’t mean to call the police!” The young teenager sobs into his brother’s chest. “Everything was just too loud, and I couldn’t breathe anymore! You weren’t answering your phone, and, and my head was fuzzy, and my tummy was hurting, and they wouldn’t show me the bathroom but I had to pee so baaaad!” He wails and falls apart, his hands gripping Oliver’s shirt.

 

          “I know,” Oliver whispers, closing his eyes and kissing his brother’s forehead. “I know, Elliot. I know. I’m so sorry I wasn’t answering your phone calls, kiddo."

 

          “I thought you a-abandoned me,” he moans, clinging onto Oliver tightly as more tears drip down his cheek. “I was a-all alone.”

 

          “I know, shh, I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Oliver sooths, cradling him in his arms. “I promise you we’ll never have to deal with anything like that again.”

 

          “Promise?” Elliot sniffles, clutching Oliver’s shirt tightly.

 

          “I promise, El. You’re safe.”

 

          Elliot falls asleep in Oliver’s arms after ten minutes. Once his breathing is even and it seems like he has stopped crying, Oliver stands up, hoists him on his hip, and brings him to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm, soapy water. He gives his sleeping little brother a quick bath, making sure to wash his legs extra carefully.

 

          Oliver gets Elliot dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie in record time, then tucks him in in his own bed. He sighs in relief when Elliot doesn’t wake up. This is something he knows how to do - he knows how to take care of his little brother like the back of his hand.

 

          Exhaling harshly, he changes into fresh clothes as well, making sure to keep all the wet, dirty clothes in the laundry room to be washed tomorrow. His head hurts and he is so, so angry at himself for not being there when Elliot needed him most, but he pushes those thoughts away in favor of gently running his hand through Elliot’s hair.

 

          A few minutes later, Elliot’s eyes flutter and he opens them halfway. “Ollie?” He mumbles, stirring around.


          “Go back to sleep El,” Oliver whispers, kissing his hair.

 

          “Don’ leave me,” he whispers, clinging to him tightly. Oliver smiles sadly and pulls him onto his lap, rubbing his back.

 

          “I won’t leave you,” he promises, trying to soothe him completely. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, okay, El? Not while I’m around.”

 

          Elliot looks confused for a bit, sort of like he doesn’t remember what happened that night, but he seems to accept that answer and falls asleep with his head against his big brother’s chest. Oliver looks down at him and sighs. How could anybody want to bully his little brother? Elliot was an amazing kid, and despite his anxiety, he was the kindest and most genuine person Oliver knew.

 

          The more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets. He is no longer upset with himself, but now he is upset with everyone who let the situation worsen.         

 

          If anybody messes with his little brother again, there will be hell to pay.

 

The End (?)

 

✧✧✧

 

Aaaand there we go! Nearly 5,000 words of pure angst. I really enjoy reading your comments - please let me know what you think and what I can improve on. I listen to every piece of criticism.

Also, I know that I explained Elliot’s situation with his parents very briefly, and I am thinking of continuing the story by adding one more chapter that explains what happened to them. I’ll only do this if you guys are interested in reading more, though, so please let me know! :) I have a couple more ideas that I’m trying to finish so that I can contribute more male omorashi to this website. Haha!

Once again, thank you very much for reading. I hope you liked it.  X

Link to comment

Hi!

I'd be happy to read next chapters too!

This is an amazing story, and I like your characters as well, because I think that the connection between brothers is very special. When I open this website, I usually try to find omorashi - haha, so surprising :D -, but when I started to read this, I forgot that it's an omorashi story, because it was so deep and real. I think this is a very important topic, and I love angst too, sooo... I enjoyed your story, and I'll be waiting for the next chapters. :) I'd like to know their past (and their future).

Pilly

Link to comment

It was very sweet and a well-done scenario.

But stylistically, it could use some work. You flip-flop perspectives a few times without warning; there are better ways of showing what Oliver's up to. And on the topic of showing, you could use more. A few times you tell directly what we should think and feel. This dilutes the imagery you've worked hard to build up.

Would you think of going more into what Elliot thinks about his situation? The anxiety stuff was very detailed and I imagine you might have some real-life experience. But being 15, he probably would be less than okay with being taken care of so completely. He can understand he needs help sometimes, but might also want to maintain at least a little independence for his personal pride. It might be too academic for a story really built around a pee accident, but you could also use that to set up more wettings.

Just some thoughts because I actually did like it a lot and will read a part 2. :)

Link to comment
On 4/7/2017 at 3:56 AM, Pilly Christal said:

Hi!

I'd be happy to read next chapters too!

This is an amazing story, and I like your characters as well, because I think that the connection between brothers is very special. When I open this website, I usually try to find omorashi - haha, so surprising :D -, but when I started to read this, I forgot that it's an omorashi story, because it was so deep and real. I think this is a very important topic, and I love angst too, sooo... I enjoyed your story, and I'll be waiting for the next chapters. :) I'd like to know their past (and their future).

Pilly

Thank you so much for your kind words! This means a lot to me. :)

On 4/9/2017 at 1:10 AM, Sapphire3619 said:

I love it!! I swear, I teared up. This was so original and sweet. Obviously, this is absolutely favorite kind of story to read, but it's also well-written. It really didn't feel like 5,000 words - everything fit and was necessary to the story. Thank you so much for writing!!

Ahh thank you so much! This is so nice to hear coming from you. I'll try to add more content to this site soon! :)

9 hours ago, AliasnameTO said:

It was very sweet and a well-done scenario.

But stylistically, it could use some work. You flip-flop perspectives a few times without warning; there are better ways of showing what Oliver's up to. And on the topic of showing, you could use more. A few times you tell directly what we should think and feel. This dilutes the imagery you've worked hard to build up.

Would you think of going more into what Elliot thinks about his situation? The anxiety stuff was very detailed and I imagine you might have some real-life experience. But being 15, he probably would be less than okay with being taken care of so completely. He can understand he needs help sometimes, but might also want to maintain at least a little independence for his personal pride. It might be too academic for a story really built around a pee accident, but you could also use that to set up more wettings.

Just some thoughts because I actually did like it a lot and will read a part 2. :)

Thank you so much for your comments! English isn't really my first language and I've never taken a writing class so it's always nice to have new input. I'll apply this the next time I write for sure! Thanks!

Link to comment
  • 10 months later...
Guest eleveneggos

This story is absolutely amazing! The theme of male omorashi that you used is one of my favorites, and it is written so perfectly!  

I would love to read more if you decide to continue! :happy:

Link to comment

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...