Haunted Dreamer
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Oct 3, 2013
Being the son of Liv Tyler was something that would be stressful to any young man, not to mention the publicity from being the grandson of Steven Tyler. It was the kind of life that most anyone would have claimed to have wanted, but very few could have accepted and lived comfortably. Constantly in the public eye, constantly under scrutiny, and constantly targeted by other children for a variety of reasons...yet for Andrew it was not something he would have given up. He did not scoff at it, did not bemoan his fate, did not think himself burdened...but he knew himself to be troubled.
Andrew Tyler, Fifteen and growing strong. Dark hair and austere features so akin to his mother, and yet he had taken after his Father in form. Instead of the thin and frail builds which looked frightening on his grandfather and gorgeous on his mother, her son had become a tall man...six feet in height, broad shouldered, almost heavy set. If it had not been for personal trainers he would have been overweight with the way he ate, but instead he was masculine and thick, in shape and almost dangerous.
Yet the true danger lay in that child's eyes. Eyes which resonated an unsettling intensity and intelligence. Early on he had been labeled as gifted, and even early on his disturbed mental state had been noticed by child therapists and school counselors. Yet....none would come forward and say something, none would risk their jobs to help the young man through these times, none wanted to say Liv Tyler's son was...unhinged. Instead they were silent as the young man struggled and wrestled with his divided self. Struggled to understand who he was and the desires tearing through him. Struggled...and conquered as best as any deviant and demented young man could...the hunger burning inside of him.
It always haunted him, the sounds in his mind of a woman moaning. The thought of flesh beneath his strong hands. The feeling of a woman whimpering. It always...tore him apart inside...and now, even as he stood outside playing with a mechanized drone he'd received for his birthday, flying it slowly around the outside of the house and peering through windows with it's electronic camera. Even now...he thought about fucking.
Andrew Tyler, Fifteen and growing strong. Dark hair and austere features so akin to his mother, and yet he had taken after his Father in form. Instead of the thin and frail builds which looked frightening on his grandfather and gorgeous on his mother, her son had become a tall man...six feet in height, broad shouldered, almost heavy set. If it had not been for personal trainers he would have been overweight with the way he ate, but instead he was masculine and thick, in shape and almost dangerous.
Yet the true danger lay in that child's eyes. Eyes which resonated an unsettling intensity and intelligence. Early on he had been labeled as gifted, and even early on his disturbed mental state had been noticed by child therapists and school counselors. Yet....none would come forward and say something, none would risk their jobs to help the young man through these times, none wanted to say Liv Tyler's son was...unhinged. Instead they were silent as the young man struggled and wrestled with his divided self. Struggled to understand who he was and the desires tearing through him. Struggled...and conquered as best as any deviant and demented young man could...the hunger burning inside of him.
It always haunted him, the sounds in his mind of a woman moaning. The thought of flesh beneath his strong hands. The feeling of a woman whimpering. It always...tore him apart inside...and now, even as he stood outside playing with a mechanized drone he'd received for his birthday, flying it slowly around the outside of the house and peering through windows with it's electronic camera. Even now...he thought about fucking.