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Fantasy RP Take Him, Then the World (Firestarter)

Az finds himself waking up every half hour and falling back asleep after another thirty minutes. All night. And when he woke up in the morning, he was starving. The plate of food from last night still sitting there and cold. He sits up, his hand pressing into his abdomen and he blows out a breath before standing and walking to the plate. He considers the plate before swiftly cutting up the meat and walking to the bathroom. He carefully dumps the food into the toilet and flushes it, making sure it didn’t clog before setting the plate back onto the dresser.

He brushes his hands over his jeans and flops back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
 
Marco stayed awake almost the entire night at his desk. His mind was racing with ideas of what to do and when to enact certain plans. His eyes as ere blood shot and had massive dark circles under them from yet another sleepless night. Once he saw the sun starting to rise, Marco pushed himself up from his desk and slowly walked through the mansion. As he approached Az's room, he heard the boy grab the plate and then the toilet flush. Did that little shit just flush the food? Marco clenches his fists m, wanting to break down the door for the lack of respect to his chefs, but takes a deep breath to calm down. He needed to get Az to feel comfortable and flying off the handle wasn't going to work.

Marco adjusts his clothes and pushes his fingers through his disheveled hair before knocking lightly on Az's door. "Az? I would like to talk to you about a few things, can I come in?"
 
Az huffs, staring at the ceiling. He heard Marco’s voice and sighs, “What.” While he didn’t want to speak to the other, it was a new day and Az wasn’t that mean. He closes his eyes again, sitting up and dragging his fingers through his messy hair. He needed a shower and some clean clothes, but he didn’t really feel like dealing with anything at the moment. He wanted to stay in bed and mope.

He slides to the edge of the bed, his feet pressing firmly to the floor as he watches the door.
 
Marco opens the door and leans against the frame. He could help but enjoy the way Az looked with bed head. The boy looked almost as tired as Marco, making him wonder if the boy was up all night as well. "Look, I want to apologize for yesterday. I know this isn't what you expected for your life, and thanks to that old fucker you got dragged into a bugger mess." Marco takes just a couple steps closer to Az and stuffs his hands into his pockets. His shoulders were relaxed and his posture was more slumped than normal. "I don't expect you to believe me let alone ever full feel comfortable here, but please try to eat something."

Marco took the envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Az with a gentle and genuine smile. "Miss Carol, one of my maids, should be back soon with some clothes for you. She has a grandson about your age and can almost always pick out someone's clothing size with just a quick look."
 
Az watches Marco, his brown eyes glittering with distaste and distrust. “Right. Fine, okay, whatever.” He turns away, his face locking onto the wall and preparing to stay there when. . .

“I did eat. Shut up.” He snaps, his gaze flying back to the other man. The burning in his gut was stronger now, his stomach begging for food while his head got lighter by the moment. He lays back, closing his eyes and dropping his arm over his eyes.

“Whatever— just-” He blinks when he feels the envelope, opening his eyes and looking at it. He takes it, frowning and opens it, counting the bills silently and hen blowing out a breath, “Thanks. . .

“Just leave me alone, I’m tired.” He mutters, closing his eyes again.
 
"Az, I'm not stupid. I know everything that goes on in my home, and I know you flushed the food down the toilet." Marco gently crosses his arms, still trying to look relaxed. "Why don't you just come out and I'll have my chefs make you whatever you want. I have damn near an entire stores worth of food, so it can be anything you want." Marco stands at the foot of Az's bed and looks over the boy's body again, noticing just how frail and malnourished he looked. "I don't let people in my home go hungry, so I'm not going to stop pestering you until you eat at least something."

A small knock on Az's door forces Marco to turn around and see Miss Carol holding a neatly folded stack of clothes and some basic hygienics for Az. "Thank you Miss Carol, please just place everything on top of the dresser and then go back to your normal duties." The older woman places the clothes in the designated spot and nods politely before leaving.

Marco turns back to look at Az with a gentle smile and tucks his hands back into his pockets. "There are towels inside the bathroom if you want to take a shower. I'll be on the back patio if you have anything to say to me." With that, Marco walks out of Az's room and heads to the back patio like he said.
 
Az looks away, his skin paling slightly and he shakes his head slightly. He did not want to eat, at all. He curls up onto his side, hiding his face in the crook of his arm and nestled further under the blankets. An arm looped around himself and his knees pulled to hid chest. He sighs softly, ignoring the rest of Maro’s words and staying in his little ball.

He waitress for the other to leave the room, to leave him alone so he could go back to his restless sleep. He face nuzzled slightly more into his arm and his shoulders shudder.
 
Marco stands outside for a long moment, enjoying the cool breeze that blew through his hair. Even with his eyes closed, he knew that Alfonso was slowly approaching. "I know I know, I don't want to hear it. The boy is refusing to eat still." Alfonso sighs and looks down for a moment.

"We did some digging about the boy and it seems that he like this normally. He refuses to eat at times but then will also over eat whenever he has too much food in front of him." Marco groans and rubs a hand over his face at the thought of Az refusing to eat. He didn't want to see the boy stare to death. "I'll see what I can do." Marco says in a firm yet sorrowful tone.

Marco turns and heads back inside to the kitchen, instructing his chefs to cook up some different meals. Salads, pastas, fried chicken, all in small portions meant just for Az to enjoy. He sends one of his thugs to Az's room to drag the boy out amd force him to sit at the dining table while Marco heads back into his office with a deep yawn and slumped shoulders. "He will eat one way or another. Even if I have to force it down his throat, he's not starving in my home."
 
Az did not like the rude awakening from one of Marco's thugs walking into the room. The silent message was clear, follow the brute or get dragged. He glares, getting up and following the brute. He frowns, noting that they were going towards the dinning room. His eyes narrow and he growls softly, “The fuck—“ He’s about to turn away when the bastard grabs his arm and drags him into the room and sits him down in a chair.

Az yelps softly, squirming and trying to push away from the table. “Let go, you numb skull!” He swipes his hand at the man holding onto him, his nails sliding across the other’s skin and leaving faint red marks. He glares and jumps from the chair, baking towards the corner.
 
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Marco sighs as he hears the commotion and slams his fist on his desk. He knew the brat was going to fight back, but not this much. He silently walks out of his office with his hands in his pockets and a sour glare on his face. When he sees his thug cornering Az with a dangerous look, Marco's eyes darkened. "BORIS! I suggest you back the fuck up before I make you." The sound of Marco's voice made the thug flinch before backing away woth his hands tucked behind his back.

Marco steps closer to Az and softens his expression. "I'm sorry he was acting so roughly with you, but as I said, no one goes hungry. He will stand here all night if he has to to make sure you eat something." As Marco talks, the servants start to bring out the multiple dishes and place them on the dining table woth the aromas filling the air around them.
 
Az huffs, “Whatever.” He whispers, shaking his head.

Seeming the food, he pales and covers his face, the smells made him feel sick. He turns his face away, “I’m not hungry.” He mutters, his mind whirling and his head starting to get dizzy. He wanted it to stop and he wanted to leave the room. He whines softly.

“I just wanna go back to bed.” He shudders, shifting to walk past Marco. He didn’t care if the man tried to stop him, he knew if he smelled anymore food, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, and he much preferred this feeling o the one of retching all day.
 
Marco quickly grabs Az's arm and pulls the boy back, leading them out to the back patio for some fresh air. "Why don't you tell me whats going on so we can try to help you. I can tell something is wrong." He knew that it would be hard for someone who had an eating disorder to just get over it, but he figured they should at least try.

"You're going to waste away if you keep doing this to yourself, Az. Don't you want to live a long life and complete any of your goals?" Marco's face was filled with concern and confusion. He was always driven by his goals, why wasn't it the same for others?
 
Az squeaks and tries to pull away, looking at Marco, “I’m fine. I’m just to hungry, okay? Leave me alone and mind your own damn business.” He growls, squirming.

“I don’t want your damn help. How much more do I have to tell you that?!” Az shakes his head and steps away from Marco, shuddering. He hated the fact that he was too weak to fight back and honestly, too mall to do anything if he was healthy enough. He glares at Marco, wanting the man to let go and leave him alone.
 
"Az coke on, you're stuck here so you might as well try to make it better for yourself here." Marco maintains his hold on Az's arm. He wasn't about to let the other run. "I can literally feel your fuxking bones Az. You can't tell me your fine when you are probably half the size of what you should be!" Marco's eyes were soft yet his voice was stern. How was this kid suppose to clean his fucking mansion while looking like a sick colt? "I'm sorry Az, but whether I force the food down your throat or you eat it willingly, you are going to eat at least a little bit."
 
Az flinches, “I’m sorry, but I don’t care. I’m fine and I’m not hungry. I’ll do my job and you leave me alone.” His hand cimes up, gripping Marco’s wrist and pushing his hand down.

He shakes his head slightly, shuddering. His nails digging into Marco’s skin as he sways slightly. He closes his eyes, his face pal8ing slightly and he lets ou a soft groan. His head felt lighter than before, and he could barely see straight. He blows out a slow breath, closing his eyes and swallowing once.
 
Marco acts purely on instinct and scoops Az up into his arms, thinking the boy is going to faint. He carries Az back inside and towards his room while motioning for the food to be packed away for later. Marco wasn't even thinking as he walked to Az's room, let alone hearing the boys protests. He was too focused on getting Az into bed. He kicks the door open lightly and gently places Az on the bed with a concerned look on his face. "Az look at you, you're body is giving out on you. If you want to prove that old fuck wrong about you, then you need to start trying to get better." Marco walked over to the bathroom and drenched a washcloth in hot water before squeezing out the excess and bringing it back to the boy.

With slow and gently movements, Marco places the rag on Az's forehead while sitting at the edge of the bed. "I'm calling in my physician tomorrow. You're not going to just let whatever this is eat you alive. I can see that you have a fire inside you and I'm not going to let you put it out."
 
Az groans softly, his head resting against Marco's shoulder and his eyes closed, "Mmmoooooo—" He mumbles, his hand covering his eyes. He was styill dizzy and he wanted to just falls back asleep to get away from this pain. He feels the bed beneath him, removing his hand and looking up at Marco. He watches the man move about the room, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. He sits up slightly, gasping as another wave a nausea washes over him and flops back, blowing out another breath.

“I. . . I’m sorry. . .” He whispers, closing his eyes and shivering, “But I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He blinks once, staring up at Marco, “No doctors- I don’t—“
 
"I'm not gonna hear it, Az. You're seeing a doctor and you're going to deal with it. I highly doubt you have the strength to fight back anyways." Marco gently dabs the warm, wet, rag on Az's forehead while he uses his other hand to lightly grip the boy's worst to keep an eye on his pulse. Az looked as sick as dog and was in no condition to be moving around. Alfonso walked to the room and stood in the doorway with a sad and worried expression. "Alfonso, preparami quel frullato nutrizionale di quando stavo male." Marco didn't normally speak in Iltalian unless he was serious and worried.

Marco looked back at Az and sighed softly as he looked into the poor boys eyes. "You need to stay here and just relax. I'm having a nutrition shake made for you. You're going to rather drink the shake slowly, or your getting an adrenaline shot in the chest. You're choice."
 
Az squirms slightly, “I don’t want a doctor! I don’t need it!” He bites down on his lip, closing his eyes at the shift of the rag and relaxes slightly.

Az hated doctors, he didn’t know why. Maybe it was the shots, or the sterile white coats, but everytime he’d been taken he’d freaked out. And the bills, he hated the bills. People touching him was also something he hated, it took trust for Az and to have some random person poking and prodding at him. He shudders, closing his eyes. He lets out a soft whine, shaking his head slightly and pushes Marco’s hand away.

“No. Stop touching me! I don’t want it.”
 
"Az stop, you're going to make yourself worse." Marco places a gentle hand on Az's shoulder and continues to dab the rag over his forehead. The fact that Az's skin was even more pale than before worried Marco. He had watched his mother pass from being sick and now couldn't stand the sight of others being sick. "Az you're deteriorating due to whatever is going on. Now just relax for once so I can get you better."

Alfonso soon returns with the nutritional shake and hands it to Marco. The shake itself had only a lightly sweet flavor and tasted mostly on fruit while being packed with vitamins and nutrients to help bring back a person's stamina. With one arm wrapped behind Az's shoulders, Marco gently lifts the young boy up into a sitting position and holds the shake close so he can sip from the straw. "Come on, I promise this will help you. I drink it myself whenever I'm not feeling well."
 
Az whines softly, shaking his head and pushing Marco’s hand away again, “Marco, stop touching me.” He mutters. He felt like screaming and clawing at the man, but he was right. Az had almost no energy, the small protein bar he’d eaten the previous day having long since worn off. He could feel his energy draining from his body by the moment and with each movement, it was worse.

“I don’t want your damn help!” He snaps, gasping slightly as he swats at Marco’s hand. “I don’t need you, or your stupid offers to make you feel better about yourself.”

Az turns his face away, pressing his lips firmly together and shaking his head at the offer of the shake, “No. I don’t want it.” He whispers, closing his eyes tightly.
 
Marco sighs and turns to look at Alfonso with a nod. After only a couple minutes, the old gentleman brings back a large syringe with a need the was at least 4 inches long and thick as hell. Marco looked back at Az with a stern yet sorrowful expression. "Don't make me do it Az. I would rather you just drink this shake a little instead of having to force you down for a shot like that." He says as motions his head towards the syringe in Alfonso's hand. "Just take a few sips and I'm sure it will help you without making you sick okay? Also, I'm not doing this to make myself feel better. You can deny it all you want, but you need help."

Marco shifts slightly at the memory of a time he had to be given the same shot a few years ago. The pain was still very much alive from the feeling of the massive needle stabbing into him. "Now make your choice. Rather you take a few sips of the shake, or I'm going to pin you down while Alfonso gives you the shot."
 
Az watches the older man with wide eyes, his gaze locked on the shot, panic flooding his body. “You fucking touch me, with that or anything else and I’ll make your life hell.” He hisses, his gaze snapping back to Marco. Fury and pain glittered in his gray eyes, his hands tightening into fists. He already felt sick at the thought of drinking the shake, but that needle- He whimpers and covers it with a cough. Fear was a strange thing, and so was desperation. Though, for Az, they never boded well for the source of those feelings.

“I’m not denying I need help. I’m saing I don’t want your damn help!” He shoves at Marco, shaking his head and his hands shaking, “I don’t want or need your damn help. I’ll get it elsewhere.”

Az tenses, “Don’t you dare.” He snaps.
 
Marco sighs heavily while placing the shake onto the bedside table. He closes his eyes for just a moment before glaring at Az with a demonic like stare before grabbing and pinning Az face down on to the bed. Marco kept on hand on the back of Az's head while the other held the boy's wrists together behind his back. Even though it wasn't necessary, Marco even placed on knee over the back of Az's thighs to keep the boy from kicking. "Az, I'm going to give you one last chance. You're rather going to drink some of that fucming shake, or Alfonso is going to stick you with that damn shot." Marco's says in a deep, stern voice.

"Please young sir, I don't want to have to give you this shot, but I will if I have to." Alfonso's voice was more gentle and filled with remorse at the idea of having to possibly force Az into a shot that he didn't want.
 
Az watches and then flinches slightly at Marco’s stare, biting his lip. He yelps, squirming slightly and closing his eyes. He shudders, going limp and closing his eyes tightly. He needed to breathe, to get away. He didn;t like this. More panic welled in his chest and he squirms again, panting heavily. This was just like that time at school when— He squeezes his eyes shut, pushing the thoughts from his mind. It was worse than getting pulled in school, if he was honest. Worse than getting shoved against the wall and pummeled, or his head shoved into a toilet.

He blows out a breath, “Please-. . .” He whispers, his voice cracking.

“Let go of me. . .” He tries to break free from Marco’s grip, swallowing and shaking his head again.
 
Marco sighs and removes his hand from the back of Az's head but maintains his hold everywhere else. "I'm sorry Az, but you're too stubborn and prideful to be left alone to figure this out on your own. I'm not letting you kill that fire inside you just because you're letting something take over your health." Marco gently pets the back of Az's head again while loosening his grip just a little. He could deny that it was heart breaking to hear the fear in the boy's voice, but he couldn't let that sway him.

Marco nods at Alfonso who steps closer and slightly pulls down the top of Az's pants to expose just a small bit of his upper ass cheek. "I'm sorry Az, but this is going to be the best option to help you feel better for now." Marco's voice was full of remorse while he gently pet the back of the boy's head. "I want you to just take a deep breath and close your eyes, this will be over in no more than a couple seconds."
 
Az’s breaths come swiftly, his eyes still squeezed shut and his muscles tense. “Fuck off, you mother fucker!” He growls, snapping his teeth at Marco’s hand, his eyes flashing open. He growls, baring his teeth.

“It’s fucking pricks like you that makes me like this.”

The moment he feels Alfonso’s fingers on his skin Az freezes, his eyes going wide and his breath halting. He lets out a keening sound and shakes his head, “Stop! Let go!” He knew it was just a shot, and not what his panic was telling him what it was, but if these stupid fucks didn’t stop touching him and let him go, Az would melt down into a full blown panic attack. And the last time that had happened, well, let’s say it didn’t go to well for Az or the people touching him.

“Get your hands off of me you stupid fucks. Unless you wanna end up like the last idiots who touched me.”
 
Marco growls and grinds his teeth as he flips Az on to his back, pinning his hands above his head while keeping one knees pressed over the boy's legs. "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?! Don't you want to fucking live?! You act like what I'm doing g is so fucking bad, but you are being a fucking child and letting something destroy your health!" Marco's eyes were darkening as he yelled in Az's face. He didn't mean to, but he was venting out things he wished he had said to his mom when she had given up her fight against her illness. "I'm not letting you do this to yourself damnit! You think you're so big and bad Az?! Then man the fuck uo and rather eat something or take the fucking shot!"

Marco breaths heavily, almost panting, as he stares down at Az. He didnt understand why, but Marco wanted to see the boy grow and become something great, but letting this illness take over wasn't going to let that happen.
 
Az stares at Marco, his eyes wide with fear, panic and rage, “What the fuck is your problem? Pinning down a brick boy who obviously has problems and has asked you many times to keep your hands off?!” Az snaps back, panting heavily and still squirming to get free. His mind was starting to blank and he needed to get free before he did something stupid.

He snarls, “I can’t eat shit! If I do, I’ll just puke it up later! Stick that damn needle in me and I’ll stick it through your damn neck.” He growls, his brown gaze flashing with unrestrained promise.

“Because I swear to god, you don’t wanna go down this way with me. Just because you’re Mr. Big and Bad and everyone is scared of you, don’t mean I am. You can take your damn help, shove it up your ass.”
 
Marco sighs heavily before climbing off of Az. "You think you scare me with your threats of sticking the needle in my throat?" Marco laughs a little sadistcally. "Boy, you don't know what I've been through and how I've gotten to wear I am today. I don't know where you've been, what you've been through, or who've you dealt with in the past, but you haven't dealt with someone like me." Marco wioes the small bit of sweat from his forehead and places his hands on his hips. "You need to learn that I am not going to do whatever someone else has already done to you." Marco motions for Alfonso to leave with the syringe and looks back at Az. "You really want to prove that you are so strong and have been through so much Az? Then grab onto your fucking balls and tell me what hppened and I will do the same."
 
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