Klavier Gavin : Between Anklebiters and Atroquinine

Trigger warnings for rape, miscarriage and abuse, don't read it if it upsets you in any way, this is fiction and I do not in any way romanticise rape or abuse. I chose to write about it as a fictional part of the story.












Based on random headcanons I read on Livejournal and Tumblr, as well as fictions about Kristoph abusing Klavier. This all just seems interesting and challenging to write about which is why it piqued my interest. 




"Seems like we're back here again" A voice- That voice, chuckled sinisterly. It was coming from the decrepit corner of the room you think you had just crawled out from.


You couldn't clearly construct a limpid image of what had happened just previously in your you knew was that you had just woken up on the cold, hard floor.


You knew what was coming.


"Leave me alone!" You replied, voice shaky and high. Salty tears poured from your irritated (e/c) eyes, sharply staining your face red. You couldn't see much as wherever you were was dimly lit, but you were sure it was an office of some kind.


"I told you, leave him, or I will just keep coming back to punish you. Klavier doesn't deserve anybody. You must like it, unless I missed a court date in the post of course" He snickered.


You couldn't make out anything except a tall figure who looked to be dressed in a suit. Though, it isn't like you needed to see to know who it was.


Kristoph Gavin.


Your soon to be brother-in-law, and current abuser. He wasn't even sadistic, he was just a sick, twisted bastard who enjoyed ruining lives. How he had been allowed to walk out of his prison sentence was beyond you. Money probably.


Klavier didn't like to talk about it, so you decided to try and avoid the conversation at all costs. He was a rather hot headed man, incredibly prone to arguing.


'When Klavier finds out...' you told yourself. Every single time. But every single time, you never told Klavier. You were absolutely petrified of the horrendous inhuman things that his older brother would do to you for telling. Rape was one thing, so was beating. But murderous intent was another end of the spectrum.


Of course, you wanted to beg with your partner to take him to court, not that it would take much begging, if any, but what if Kristoph just kills you this time? You couldn't tell him.


Every now and then, you would find yourself in some sort of abandoned space somewhere in LA, probably after being drugged with something, with the same man who hated you the same way he hated his younger brother.


"You're a fucking monster" The words spat out of your mouth all at once. "Why can't you just leave us alone!" Mopping up your busted nose, the blood trickled out, warm on your skin.


"Ha, please. You're no different to my brother. Just an idiotic lowlife. A waste of human life"


"When he finds out-!"


A sudden stinging pain shot through your left cheek bone. Kristoph had just slapped you!


"Don't talk shit to me, young lady. I know you won't tell him" Shaking his clenched fist at you, the threat alone was enough to force you into a blubbering mess of cowering and whimpering, leaning on what felt like a dusty old desk or table of some kind. "You just succumb and do as you're told – I can see why he likes you. Well, more why he likes that cunt of yours, anyway" The wicked grin on his face was so ugly and tainted. "That's all you're good for, a nice fuck and nothing more"


"That's not true!" Holding your chin up high, breathing hard, it didn't intimidate him.


Pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose with 2 fingers, he grappled onto your arm, thrusting it down onto the desk with such force it actually bruised up straight away.


"Aghhh...!" You hissed through your teeth. Catching sight of the gleaming stone on your finger, he tapped it lightly.


He asked you about it every time.


"Oh? What's this?"


"You ask me this every time, leave it alone" Averting your gaze, he just snarled right into your ear.


"Did he pick this? He lacks taste... You don't however"


Certain that he had abused Klavier at some point in the past too, you were pretty sure that Klavier was in love with you, for you but these meetings were beginning to have a psychological effect on you now. He didn't seem the type to settle down with a long term girlfriend, despite being pretty honest and friendly. He was an international rockstar after all. He had told you he wanted a family and to settle down, but he had only said it.


"You're a disgusting old man"


"Lie back on that desk. Now"


"Please don't do this... Anything but that"


"I told you what would happen-"


"I'm pregnant!"


Hesitation was futile. It always had been. He became enraged upon learning this, slapping you about and forcing you down. Draping your head over the back of the surface so you didn't need to look at him, resting bitch face took over your features. Squeezing your eyes shut, the cold fingers prodding at you in inappropriate places sent a shiver up your spine.


Klavier was totally oblivious to the whole thing. You had told him about the pregnancy, but he didn't see it as enough to blame these... Changes on. He knew your mood had changed, but thought perhaps it was just a 'woman' thing.


Just because he had spent a lot of time with women didn't mean he understood them.


The bruises and the cuts were expertly hidden with make up, something that you just picked up dating a rockstar. Klavier was rather vain after all. He figured you were just rejecting his advances more than every so often because you were truly tired from work, or that you were body conscious due to your growing size. You didn't want him to see your body, because he would interrogate you about the marks.


You had an inkling he was going out and cheating on you with groupies anyway. Avoiding jealousy kind of came with the job description in this relationship. All you could hope was that he wasn't being stupid and skipping protection... Like he was with you... Not that you minded, you were engaged after all, had been for long enough.


What Klavier hadn't observed however, was the fact that you were no longer being as open. There was a time when the pair of you were incredibly sexually active, when you were pretty much alright with him peeing in the bathroom while you were taking a bath, or when you would 'secretly' let him watch you dress in the morning for work with the lights on. Klavier wasn't a pervert, but damn did he enjoy catching an eyeful, or better still, a warm handful.


Those days were gone.


Probably because you were running into Kristoph constantly and you weren't even brave enough to speak to your prosecutor fiance, never mind the fucking police!


You yearned to tell Klavier so badly, but everytime you tried to tell him, it just ended in : "Actually, it doesn't matter"


"sie sind sicher, Baby? Ist alles in Ordnung?" (Are you sure, Baby? Is everything alright?")


He would whisper, desperately trying to search inside your eyes for an answer.


No matter how much he tried to force you, you just couldn't tell him. It wouldn't even roll off the tip of your tongue. "würden Sie mir sagen, ob etwas nicht in Ordnung war?„ ("Would you tell me if something was wrong?„)


"Ja... Mein Liebling"


Thinking about Klavier was the only thing that got you through these situations. You prayed to God that Kristoph wasn't riddled with vile sti's that could be passed onto you or worse, got you pregnant. Thankfully you were completely certain that you were pregnant with Klavier and not his brother, as you counted back the days perfectly and you hadn't seen Kristoph for at least a fortnight before conceiving. The thought of it made you sick.


You were taking quite a beating today. You wondered how you were going to cover up the bruises outlining your features and put on a fake smile as well as a fake walk. He was being particularly evil today, not even lubing or anything, just shoving himself in dry. The sensation of being practically ripped apart was deadening. It was almost like sodden sandpaper rubbing against each other as he leaned over you, banging you against the desk. You were sure there were splinters in your back from the rough wooden surface.


Tears filled your eyes as you tried to show no feeling. You would never succumb to him, show him truly how you felt.


Oh, Where the fuck was Klavier when you needed him?


Thankfully, it was all over quickly, though you were left feeling sore and battered. Zipping his expensive trousers up, he walked freely. Again.


"...And if you tell him. You know what I will do. Court can't catch me. So even if you don't..." He laughed, muttering under his breath. "You know what I will do"


Leaving you to slide down the desk into a heap, all you did was drag your knees to your chest and cry shakily. You were to go home and do nothing about it. Again.


Later that evening, after you had eventually somehow gotten home at last and bathed yourself carefully. Sleeved, medicated with codeine, covering up bruises in layer upon layer of foundation, you were at the table with Klavier, sat at opposite ends, eating expensive bratwurst he'd just had imported from Germany. It was delicious as always, Klavier was quite a good cook after all, but you didn't appear to be enjoying it. Your stomach was still churning from the earlier events of the day. Cramping at the sensation of your back still being scraped on the desk. It was nauseating. That and the fact you were 4 months pregnant.


"Schatz" he began, his voice sultry and sugary sweet, with a touch of attentiveness. Watching you play with your food with a look of complete misery on your face, whilst gently biting on the tip of your finger, like you always did when you were nervous, was making him worried. You didn't even flinch. Today's beating was haunting you. How long was it going to carry on? Kristoph had never been so hard on you, in the six months this had begun happening.


It had began when you learned of his 'bail' from prison. He had caught you in the street by chance, so he knocked sense into you.


Going through Klavier's family about right.


"Mein Schatz?" He repeated. You ignored his cocked head, hair falling perfectly to form the cute platinum curls he had. Even his slight German accent couldn't bring you back to reality. Normally he would milk it and send you over the edge. Sighing heavily, he called your name instead, sternly. "(y/n). Achtung"


Choking on your food, he was staring at you, a look of anger washed over his face.


"Wenigsten meine Küche , mein Liebling?" (Dislike my cooking, my Darling?")


"Klavier? Darling, I- I'm sorry. The food is great I just-"
"You've barely touched your food, Baby. Is something wrong? I find myself asking you this a lot, recently" A breath escaped your mouth, possibly a little too audibly, as he studied your whole face.


"I-I... Um..." Setting your fork down as you stopped to think about your next words with extreme and utter care, you played with a glass on the table, tracing the rim with your finger. You were thinking too hard about this. The hesitation in your behaviour was making him suspicious.


"I'm just... I... Work-" Putting down his glass with a grin, he interlocked his fingers together. His eyes were soft, despite the heavy kohl on the lids.


"Had a rough day, huh?" You just nodded. "How about... wir machen Liebe vor dem Schlafengehen? I'll be gentle with you" (we make love before bedtime?)


"Oh, Klavier..." You couldn't hide the slight blush, not even under all of the makeup. "Not tonight, I...I'm not feeling well" Your eyes were shut, desperately trying to push the image of Kristoph out of your head. Why couldn't you just bring yourself to enjoy an intimate moment with your fiance, damn it?


"You aren't... Feeling well?" He appeared pretty disappointed. He couldn't even remember the last time you had sex. Most likely when you had gotten pregnant. That was pretty lame considering the pair of you were supposed to be trying for a baby. "Why didn't you say before?"


It was actually overly tangible how doubtful he was. Kinda snappy. He wasn't stupid. Klavier knew all about your habit of chewing your finger when you were nervous... Or lying.


You wondered if you should just tell him, but Klavier was the kind to get angry pretty quickly. Take things totally out of context. His bright blue eyes could penetrate diamonds. "Is there someone else?"


"Excuse me?" Your fork dropped, clanging on the wooden table.


"You seem to be denying my advances a lot. I'm beginning to wonder if there's any point. We're supposed to be getting married"


"Must we discuss this at the table?"


"Nein! Wir müssen!" ("We must!") His fist collided with the pine surface. "There's a level of trust that isn't happening between us, that should be!"


"Oh yeah? Well how do I know you don't go round fucking girls left right and centre when you go on tour, huh?!"


The pair of you were stood up, eyes narrow, breathing heavy.


"Do I really come across as deviant as that?"


"Oh please, the tight leather pants, the beauty rituals-"
"Those are just things I like to do!"


"This isn't about you, Klavier"


"Then what is it about then? Enlighten me. Please"


Lip trembling, you spun round to look at the ground.


"I..."


"You what?!" He walked over to your turned back. Resting a hand on your shoulder, he stroked up and down the curve in your neck, with his amazing tender touch, in an attempt to be comforting. Sighing heavily, he attempted to calm himself down. "Please, speak to me... Fraulein... I'm sorry"


"I have nothing to say... I'll be fine..." Placing a hand on your back, you flinched at his touch to begin with. The touch soon became his whole arm wrapping around you, one on your belly and the other stroking your arm. The crevice in your neck soon became a Klavier-face-rest. His scent was strong and his hair soft as clouds.


"Nein, I refuse to let you out of it this time, there is something wrong and as your fiance. I believe I deserve to know"


"It's nothing-"
"-Fraulein." There was a moment of silence, before he began to guess. "Are you worried? Was it too soon for me to suggest starting a family? That we move to a secluded place in rural Germany and have dozens of little feet running round?" You giggled slightly, as he pressed light kisses up your jawline, though it sounded more like you were just exhaling air.


"You know I want that just as much as you... Promise to listen to me..."
"Of course... What is it that has been bothering you?"
Turning to face him, you couldn't even look at him as you said it.


"K-Kristoph-!" His eyes widened in sheer lightning. Grasping a hand over your mouth, you looked just as shocked as he was.


"What was that? Did I just hear that right?!" Gripping your chin, he roughly cranked it up so you your big (e/c) eyes were staring up at him. His were glaring into yours. "Kristoph?! Mein bruder?!"


"Wh- N-No?! You told me you would listen to me!"


You couldn't get a word out, because you were unsure where to start. His long arm was against the wall, so you had no chance of escape, even with him resuming his normal stance of fingers in belt loop and one knee bent.


"Don't just stare at me, (full/name)! This is what you've been going and doing all this time?!"


"K-Klavier it isnt..." Your voice was small and delicate, like you at this moment in time. "It's not like that!"


"What is it like then?! Is this what you've been hiding from me all this time?!" He had the upper hand because of his height, stood right over you, glaring.


"We just... I just keep running into him and... He... He..." Totally unable to read emotions, your sniffles came across as you being the guilty party, not the fact you wanted to tell him so badly about the abuse.


"He what?"


"He h... I can't say it or he'll make me-! Don't yell at me, Klavier..."


His breath was beginning to leave imaginary scalds on your forehead. Enough so he wouldn't even let you finish your sentence. Your shoulders were so tensed up you had no neck.


"He makes you? Oh Fraulein..." He scoffed. "Is that why I can't make you?" Bitterly, he looked away, grabbing his keys from the side. "You know what, finish your dinner yourself" He stormed off, leaving behind only an angry atmosphere and his cologne through the arch in the wall separating the kitchen from the sitting room.


"Please don't go!"
"I've heard enough"


"I can't tell you because I love you!"


"If you loved me, you wouldn't be sneaking off with him in the first place! Fich!" Kicking something in the hallway, you figured it was probably his guitar case. Slamming the door, you just fell onto the sofa, head in your hands.


"What have I done...?"


That's when the idea came to you. You would write a letter. You weren't really telling him then. Klavier was just reading it. Picking up a post it, you scribbled down something before sticking it on the fridge.


"I'm scared he will hurt me again"


Later, Klavier finally came back after spending time in a bar on the other side of the city. He had been so stupid. Flying off the handle like that. He had took the whole thing out of context. Locking the door and twirling the keys around his slender fingers, he waltzed into the front room lowly humming a tune. He was going to get another drink, but decided he would only wake up with a sore head in the morning. Also, he had an apology to make.


Coughing a little from the next room, you disguised it as a laugh. But it only seemed like a laugh until you were coughing again and again. Grasping at your throat, you whimpered a little.


"Fuck, my throat... Feels like it's burning"


Suddenly, your breathing became ragged and a sense of dread overcame your whole body. Your limbs went cold, so you attempted to stand up from your seat. You had heard Klavier come stomping in, and he may have been in a horrific mood with you, but he wasn't the kind to just let you suffer.


"Klavier... I can't... Breathe" Snapping out of angry boyfriend mode he ran straight over.


"Schatz, what's wrong? Are you choking?!" He demanded, bright blue eyes staring into your lidded (e/c) ones. Shaking violently, your knees finally gave way. "Fich..." ("Fuck...") You weren't sure if you had even hit the floor, as everything was whiting out around you, though you were pretty sure that Klavier was propping you up with his toned arms. You could hear his calls dully ringing in your ears. "Schatz! Schatz, look at me!" You couldn't, you were totally paralysed. "I'm calling an ambulance!" All your weight had slipped onto him, and you weren't even breathing. "Scheisse... Scheisse..." (Shit... Shit...")


Shaking your arms was no use, cupping his hand around your head, he sunk to the floor whilst supporting you on his chest and waiting on the ambulance.


It was only then he noticed your post it on the fridge. These were symptoms of atroquinine poisoning, and he had seen it before. He suddenly realised what had been going on. He had been so stupid.


It was a whole day before he was allowed to see you again, and you had been a nightmare in intensive care, even after having the antidote administered. Screaming, clawing, everything. Not a nurse could get an ounce of sense out of you.


An investigation into domestic abuse was going to happen. Klavier didn't know what to think. He was one of the most loving people in the world.


Pacing up the hospital corridor with a bunch of (fav/flowers), he retched at the sickening green wall paint. Before finding your door on the ward, he stopped and took a breath. Mentally preparing himself to see you in a state was harder than he expected. Would you even want to see him after last nights display?


Studying his boots for a second and letting his gut twist, Klavier wrapped his tanned fingers around the metal door knob and slowly inched it open. There you were, sleeping soundly in a hospital bed with all sorts of monitors and wires hooked up to you. He was just glad they had let you keep your own clothes on and not some ugly hospital gown with the gaudy green pattern. Skinny legs wandering over, he placed himself in the arm chair beside the window.


Placing the flowers into a vase, he decided to put them on the bedside table.


He sat for a while, though it wasn't long until you stirred awake.


"Mmm... No..." you mumbled under your breath. "...D-Don't do that..." Rising to his feet, he bent over slightly, tucking your hand beneath his. His shirt was riding up slightly, exposing tanned skin on his back, his pants worn at the hips. Biting his lip, his brows furrowed watching you slowly wake. Suddenly, tears began to fall from your eyes as you totally woke up.


"It's okay, Baby, it's me" Lowering his head to eye height, he peered over to yours so you could see his smile.


"Klavier?" You squealed sadly, before gripping hard onto his back, squeezing him tight. He wrapped his arms around you in return, showing much needed affection in the form of a cuddle.


"I'm so sorry..."Your voice broke as you spoke.


"No, it's not your fault. I'm sorry for arguing. It was wrong. Completely fucking wrong. This whole thing is my fault"


Swallowing, Klavier pulled up the arm chair right next to the bed so he could rest his elbows on the stiff mattress.


"I'm going to find him" He drew breath. "I should have known... He poisoned you, with fucking Atroquinine..."


"Atro- Aqui- A-"


"Atroquinine" Klavier almost leered as he stated the word perfectly, his slight German accent putting a sexy spin on it. You went into a flush. "But..."


"But?" Worry filled your features. He darted his eyes away from you to think about how to construct his next sentence.


"Liebling, they... The doctors..." He played with his hair in deep brooding. The doctors had found evidence of rape and domestic violence on your body, in the form of bruises. The note on the fridge did not make Klavier look good.


"The doctors... What...?"


"They... Um..."


"Was?" ("What?") Klavier extended his arm and put your canula pierced hand in his, stroking it tenderly, as if his very touch would break you.


"I'm here" Water filled the bottom of his eyes, a tear streaming down and smudging black eyeliner. "Is he hurting you?" He whispered, quiet as a mouse.


"I... I can't-"
"You have to. Is this what you were trying to tell me last night?"


"...Klavier..."


"It's just... They're doing an investigation on me"


"They're... What?" You began to sob. "Why?"


His face had returned to being gentle and neutral. Reaching a hand out, he pushed some stray hair out of your face, before wiping a tear away.


Clutching your chin with two fingers, he lifted it up, studying your cheek bone. "Is this... a bruise?"


"Leave it..."


"When I get my hands on that brother of mine-! Ich werde ihn selbst töten" ("I'll kill him myself")


You leaned over, almost in haste.


"Please don't go looking for him!"


"How long have you known he was walking the streets for? I could have put him straight back!"
"I... I... 6 months..."


"6 months...? ......Ohh, Liebste. Were you frightened?"


"I was scared he would come directly after you..."


"Don't ever worry about that. I can look after myself, right now I need to be looking after you, and this one"


Klavier looked down at his knees. You watched, lay in bed, exhausted.


"What's the matter?"


"I couldn't protect you. I'm such a... Dummkopf..." He looked up to face you, his eyes had an aura of sorrow about them. Swallowing, he plucked up the courage to say what he needed to. "What... Sorts of things did he do to you? I need it if I'm going to file a case"


"I think he's drugged me more than once. I used to find myself in a dark room... Then he would call me all sorts of names and say... horrible things..." Moving a hand onto your belly, it caught Klavier's attention. He mirrored it. "He used to... To..."


"It's okay Fraulein... I know"


Suddenly the door opened. It was bad news.


"Miss (L/N)?"


"Yes?"


"We have your results, the poison has been successfully been cleared, so you can go home today. However..."


"However?" Klavier interrupted, skeptical. He was becoming a little aggressive, he was never letting anyone near you again. He was thinking of going against your wishes anyway, Kristoph needed bringing to justice. Grabbing your hand, you could feel his grip trembling.


"The antidote for atroquinine is known to cause miscarriages. We had no choice. It was your baby's life or both of your lives. I'm terribly sorry, Miss (L/N)" Leaving the pair of you to deal with your loss, your hand fell limp. It had taken you a whole year of trying to finally conceive. Your whole life felt like it was over.

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