#carbon monoxide monitor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cleolinda · 1 year ago

Text

My sister noticed

Previously on: I grew up in a haunted house and I didn't notice: So I told you a story about how a Count Chocula used to creep behind me at night when I was a child, and I described my very weird childhood home to you. I told you how my sister had Something Dark living in her bedroom, and I told you about the time she and I compared notes and realized that we also had the ghost of a young woman in the house. Maybe.

I asked my sister to read over the draft for me, maybe gather up the fortitude to fill in some details, and she texted back, "Oh, I'll tell you anything you want. But that’s not how it happened."

I am willing to believe her version for two reasons:

1) My memory has been shit after having covid umpteen thousand times.

2) I actually remember her version of the conversation we had, now that it's in front of me.

I also remember my version, is the thing—the one where I told her about Rebecca when we were younger. And that raises some questions about how independent, how uncompromised, our experiences were. But I think those questions are themselves the story. Can I trust my memory at all? I had such bad brain fog the first time I had covid that I could not remember how to scramble eggs. A lot of things are just mist to me now. There's what I remember and there's what actually happened, but what do I even remember? And that's before you even get into the idea that we're talking about ghosts we "felt" in the house. We saw no apparitions, no shadows, no odd movements.

This is not a story where I'm asking you to believe me.

There are things you experience, and things that happen. An example from the winter of 2016:

What I experienced was standing out on our deck one night and looking up at the stars. They were moving in a slight swirl motion, not unlike the painting Starry Night. I turned to my mom and said, "Well, the stars are moving, so if the world ends or something any time soon, here's our first sign." She stared at me.

What happened was, our upstairs heating unit had a leak, and I sustained mild carbon monoxide poisoning. (I like rooms to be cool, so I had used the heater less than most people would, at least.) This was only discovered during a routine furnace check, after my vision had been a little weird and I had been deeply fatigued for two or three months. I have had a CO monitor upstairs ever since.

Did I see the stars swirling? Yes. Were they? No. That's the distinction I want you to make while I tell you all this. Did my sister and I experience things? Yes. Do I know what happened? No.

So what I agree happened was, we were having Grownup Sunday Family Dinner a few years back, maybe 2019 or so. I had been really into Buzzfeed Unsolved, which later evolved into Watcher Entertainment, but my sister was refusing to watch any of it. She's a big fan now, but she only started watching the guys last year. Yesterday, we tried to piece this back together via text.

My sister ["MS" from here on out]: Like I feel like off and on for years you mentioned [Shane and Ryan's shows] and I refused

MS: And one day my argument was to talk about our own house

Me [let's go with Cleolinda Jones, "CJ"]: You said you felt like fake ghost shows were disrespectful to people who actually experienced [hauntings].

MS: YES I FEEL LIKE THAT WAS THE CONVO

I love paranormal investigation shows, whether they're patently fake or not, as long as I enjoy the people investigating, so I couldn't understand why they personally offended her. Pulling at this thread back in 2019 is how the the whole ghost story started coming out.

CJ: And I was like, okay, but here’s one show where they get, like, nothing, but I can promise you that it's real

(Because the Unsolved/Watcher shows pair a believer with an actual skeptic who still, lo these many years later, does not believe in any of it. I truly believe Shane and Ryan would not stage "evidence," for that reason. Shane makes fun of ghosts and people who believe in them, but he's honest about it, and my sister likes that.)

At this point, we go back to the first version of the story that I posted: my sister had told me that Something had lived in the Four Closets Bedroom with her when she was a preteen/early teenager. It felt very dark, very bad, and she had not told anyone else about it until that dinner. The way I relayed it to you, Dear Reader, was that she hadn't wanted to go into detail, and I wasn't sure what it looked like, or if it "lived" in the little witch closet, or what. That night at dinner, I had gone on to tell her that, you know, now that you mention it, I did feel like something used to follow me up there at night. And this was when "My sister started crying. Like just staring at me in wide-eyed horror, her eyes filling with tears" had come in.

1. Something Dark

CJ: So you were telling me about our house being haunted. Something in your room. How would you describe it?

MS: I think it more lived in the attic

(our pal the dark fucked-up attic room)

MS: but would roam the entire floor so I felt it in the peach room [my (Cleo's) old bedroom and then later, my sister's] but more so in [the Four Closets Bedroom] as it was closer to the attic

MS: The best way I can describe it is just never feeling like I was alone. Feeling like something was always behind me. But I refused to turn around to look. It felt like a darkness that almost oozed behind you in a way that was almost suffocating.

CJ: What I find interesting is that we both describe it as Just Feelings, and never feeling alone.

My sister texted me at this point that she used to sense Something upstairs whether it was day or night; "even in the day, it didn't feel safe." But night was worse.

MS: There was one night in 3rd grade when I was reading and had like my first panic attack because I was newer to living upstairs and I felt it come in the room at night for the first time

MS: I also used to feel compelled to keep the AC running all night like it was never cold enough.

Here's the weird thing: when we moved to the house where I currently live and our rooms were on the same floor, we always fought over the thermostat. My sister hated her bedroom being too cool, whereas I get hot. I remember one night, we were arguing over it, and she was weirdly on the verge of tears: "Why do you have to have it so cold?" In 2023, my sister texted me at this point that she didn't want our childhood home to be cold; it was like the thing wanted that temperature, even if she hated it.

You often hear that ghosts make rooms cold, that's a big ghost hunter show thing—but whatever was up there couldn't lower the temperature on its own?

CJ: "If you can’t make it cold yourself, storebought is fine"

CJ: And you don’t have a visual impression of it, I’m not just blowing past that?

MS: I refused. REFUSED to look. Ever. For any reason.

CJ: I did too, so that’s interesting

CJ: I describe it as a Count Chocula, which should tell you how much it didn’t bother me. Which I find weird

(Truly, there is a reason I titled that post "I grew up in a haunted house and I didn't notice.")

MS: I can’t tell if it was truly terrifying. Or if the amount of data I was getting from it was just so overwhelming that that alone was terrifying to a child. I wish I could answer that now.

CJ: Yeah, in some way I think we’re saying the same thing. I was seven years old and I couldn’t comprehend what it was, either, so I just imagined a silly vampire

CJ: like I can’t overstate how cartoonish it seemed to me at the time, while still being very DON’T LOOK BACK

Part of the problem, she added, was that she felt compelled to go turn down the air conditioning... and the thermostat was next to the (carpeted. shag carpeted) bathroom. And then she had to race back to her bedroom... the same way I used to, as quick as she could.

MS: I also felt like I could NOT run. Like the way you shouldn’t run away from a mountain lion. It would create the need for it to chase me.

MS: What is so strange is that [learning about paranormal investigation] has not changed my perception of my experience in the slightest. Whether that’s the reality or not. It is still something I find dark and terrifying.

CJ: I think you would answer this differently now than you did then: what do you think it was?

We discussed this by text for a while. I mentioned being intrigued that Something Dark wanted to be cold (but apparently was not able to make the room cold). My sister—having agreed to be quoted here—said, "I kinda hope to avoid someone being like 'you had a demon in your house,'" as she doesn't really feel like that's what it was. Her gut feeling (and, bear in mind, we are working off nothing but feelings here) is that it was a spirit or ghost: something formerly human. We agree that it seemed male in some way (again: a Chocula).

And you're probably thinking, This is total bullshit. And it probably is! I'm not claiming any of this to be real evidence! I just find it interesting that we somehow came up with the same bullshit.

CJ: It just fascinates me that I did not experience 90% of this, and yet I got a strong enough whiff of it that I’m like, yeah, I can see it

But what about the female presence, the one I went off to color with in the middle of the night?

2. Rebecca

MS: I didn’t find out you had done the ouija board until we were adults. You didn’t tell me when we were kids

MS: That’s why I was SO shocked when we talked at the dinner table.

See, I was convinced that I had told her about my ouija adventures when I was a teenager, and "What about Rebecca??" flowed really well in the first post. That conversation was already a bit fictionalized in order to condense it from what I remembered—that's how memoirs work, really, unless you have actual transcripts of your life and room to include them. You're telling a story. I thought I was telling a condensed version of a true story. And yet, I do remember how shocked my sister was at dinner that night. And she would have only been seven or eight when I was messing around with that shit. Those two things do support the idea that I wouldn't have told her.

MS: You did tell me skeletons lived in my closet tho

I told you I was kind of a shit.

CJ: when I told you about Rebecca, what was your reaction?

MS: That’s when I went white. Bc I realized we had had a similar experience and I wasn’t just crazy

CJ: The thing is, I WOULD HAVE SWORN I had told you about Rebecca when we were younger

MS: If you did you didn’t name her and that’s why it was nuts when I realized 2 decades later we pulled the same name and we both remembered it.

We did it again, too—I posted briefly about putting this whole saga together, and how my sister asked me to give the ghost a pseudonym (ghosts deserve privacy too). And in trying to think of a good replacement, we both came up with "Rebecca."

CJ: so how did you know the [original] name?

MS: Ouija board with [best friend, redacted] in the playroom when I was like 13. She cried the whole time. We both thought the other was moving [the planchette].

You'll remember the weird, windowless, sky-blue playroom with the scary door from the previous post.

MS: But she was crying so she wouldn’t have been. And I would have never pulled out the name [Not Actually Rebecca]

MS: There was part of me that wonders if I did it but I would have NEVER chosen Rebecca

CJ: So did I bring Rebecca up first in this conversation [at dinner in 2019], or did you? I did?

MS: You said it first. I would have never [told you first] cuz I would have thought you were placating me. Like I’d never really know if you weren’t just agreeing with me

And that's when my sister had "stared at me, saucer-eyed, pale. Like I'm not sure I had ever seen anyone 'go white' until that moment." And I had told her about getting up at midnight and going to color in the weird playroom, and someone else being in there with me, no big deal.

After all this discussion, we do think that Rebecca was briefly my "imaginary friend," but our mom told me to stop talking about that. Not because our mom was spooked, but because she felt like it was rude for me to talk about someone I was presumably making up in front of company. So that stopped. Thinking back on it, I just felt like someone was sitting next to me on the couch. I didn't feel anyone next to me; when I looked, I felt like I could see where... someone was not? The space that someone invisible was taking up? It felt like something reasonably friendly. "Chill" is the word I keep using. Not super eager or possessive, just like a girl who was a bit older, maybe a teenager, a babysitter age, who liked me well enough. There was some dark shit in the attic, apparently—it did feel very oppressive in there—but I would get a sense that a metaphorical desk lamp had been turned on. A presence that stayed back, relaxed, but emanated "hey, I'm here."

What my sister and I agreed on was that we remembered how these "feelings" were both vague and memorable. I can't remember events or chronology accurately, but I remember the actual sensations and presences very, very clearly. They resist reinterpretation. I can't sit here and say, "Oh, Rebecca was totally a guardian angel, I see that now." The Something Dark sounds functionally demonic, but my sister doesn't feel like that's accurate. (If anything, she gets a sense that this could have been a malicious uncle—not father—of some kind to Rebecca, if the two beings were related: particular in their vagueness.) These two presences just... were. My sister says she primarily sensed Rebecca outdoors in our backyard, when we were pretending (were we?) to play with fairies. I didn't sense Rebecca there—but then, I wasn't aware that what I sensed was a someone, not for another thirty years or so. My oblivious ass was up at midnight filling in my She-Ra coloring book with a ghost like, "Yeah, I'm alone in the dark for no reason, this is normal." It's only in retrospect that I recognize atmospheric feelings as things that actually took up space, and I don't know how I didn't see it at the time. I can't explain that, and I can't ask you to believe it. All I know is that my sister still feels very traumatized by her experience of it—and I can't explain why I don't.

I think one of the reasons paranormal investigation shows don't scare me a whole lot is because so much of the "evidence" is random knocks and creaks and movements and vibes, and I'm like, yeah, I've lived in two houses now like that. The door of my current bedroom opens and closes on its own all the time. It's probably a draft from the ventilation system (which does not have CO leaks anymore) (probably). I've seen something at this house that a lot of people might call a shadow person, but I was probably imagining it. So many of these ghost shows just have things that I grew up with and didn't even think a whole lot of at the time; I seem to be protected by a +3 Sphere of Sure, That's Fine. Is my current house also haunted? I honestly don't know. Would I notice if it was?

#part two of two #story time with cleo #long post #the haunting of jones house #spooky season #halloween everyday #me for some reason #first look on patreon

355 notes · View notes

i-am-a-fan · 1 year ago

Text

Okay!! I have so much information on me at all times.

But I really feel like going into forensics for a bit, so I will nerd out about that.

Let’s talk about the time of colonization which is the earliest estimated time that a set of insects (namely flies of the Diptera family.) Please note that is NOT the time of death as that is when a body no longer has a working cardiovascular, nervous, or respiratory system.

These two times can be very different due to the fact that the body can be blocked away from flies, or other insects, which can be a bit confusing.

**IT GETS GROSS FROM HERE ON OUT, TW GORE**

Anyways, flies have a set life cycle where the first fly will try and lay eggs near any openings: eyes, mouth, open wounds, etc. From there they have their larva stages (which can vary in number), pupa stage (in which they will try and bury themselves into the dirt (or other semi-protective area)), and finally fly stage in which they will mate and start again. How fast they mature, however, actually depends on their species and temperature!! The hotter the area, without hitting its critical temperature, the faster the flies mature.

Forensic entomologists usually have a table with the temperature, the length of each stage, and the species, but since each case is different, there has to be a different table for each temperature.

ALSO!! A really interesting thing I’ve learned is about “Liver mortis” which is the setting of blood after death. The blood will pool at where ever was the lowest point in the body and will avoid any places with higher pressure. This means there is a possibility that you can tell what position the deceased was in and what they were wearing. And while this is interesting by itself, what I find fascinating is that you can tell certain things from the COLOR of liver mortis.

From what I remember:

- Carbon Monoxide is Cherry Red

_ Hydrogen Sulfide is Green

ALSO ALSO!!

There is a HUGE difference between a Medical Examiner and a Coroner (in the US)

A medical examiner has to go to medical school, earn their Ph.D., complete residency, get a medical license, join a fellowship, and basically become a doctor.

However... Coroners are an elected position and most of the time they do not require any previous medical experience. All you need is someone to vote for you and for you to be +18. Not saying that all coroners are underqualified, but it’s not a requirement.

So.. if you are in the US and you want your body professionally inspected after death... I suggest you put that you want a medical examiner instead of just going to the first place that takes ya.

TIP: You can summon me during an attack by using the “@“ Button!

ᴸᵒᵃᵈᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᶦᵐᵉ ᵐᵃʸ ᵛᵃʳʸ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉʳˢ

#tw gore #forensics #speck rambles #Some info might be wrong since its been a while since I took the class #but i love talking about this #please check your carbon monoxide monitors btw

50 notes · View notes

barachiki · 7 days ago

Text

Just had an exciting moment, and accidentally posted a new picture all at the same times

We smelled gas in our house, we knew the rules, you get your dog, and leave the house. It is snowing and blowing wind outside so we got in our truck and went across the street to wait for the fire department. They came real quick, brought the big truck to our townhouse complex and had a look around.

Turns out it that the wind might have blown our furnace exhaust back into the vents, thus the gas we were smelling was just exhaust. They did send the gas company to check it out too, and they had a negative reading as well.

There was a chorus of ‘you did the exact right thing!’ As we are huddling in our jammies in the snow. But everyone was safe, whole episode took about an hour, but we are glad we did the right thing, and we are going to install new fire and carbon monoxide monitors everywhere tomorrow.

#just blabber #barachiki recalls a moment from the paaaaast!

25 notes · View notes

phantomrose96 · 2 years ago

Text

Yknow I don't think I've... talked about the absolute smorgasbord of shit what's gone wrong with my condo since I moved in so

day 0 - hadn't moved in yet, was just moving items over, turned the sink on for just a moment. turns out the tube feeding into the sink faucet was full of holes (how???) and this caused a never-ending leak under the sink. the standing water rotted the baseboard under the sink

still day 0 - said leak and water accrual dripped down and damaged downstairs neighbor's ceiling ($$$). she has to call me to tell me about it.

I have to get a plumber out there next day (still not living there yet! empty place! I have to take off work). While waiting for plumber, I discover heat's not working.

Go to basement to investigate boiler. Seller didn't fix the issue they claimed they fixed.

Plumber looks at sink. Declares it full of holes. Says he can come back in a few days to fix it.

(Plumber postpones, then flakes. I chase down a different plumber.)

Plumber 2 says the issue is with the garbage disposal, not the faucet. Can come back x days later to work on that, and the boiler.

Plumber 2 comes back x days later (I have to take off work again), says "oh the disposal was messed up but also the faucet has holes." Says he can come back maybe the NEXT day with a new faucet

Oh also the smoke detector in the back hall is low battery beeping and I don't have a battery for it. It's constant, every minute on the minute.

I bike to a hardware store and buy a faucet and a battery ($$). Get lost on the way home. (All of this back and forth is by bike. I live in the city and do not have a car.)

Plumber replaces the faucet ($$). I replace the smoke detector battery but it's still beeping. Dozens of more stupid minutes later of going up and down and up and down stairs and dragging my big stupid ladder around, I realize it's the carbon monoxide detector which is hidden behind the door I need to open to even get to the back hallway.

Plumber services the boiler ($$$)

I move in. I have a less than great time emptying everything from my apartment, which doesn't have plumbing issues. On a bad foot to start.

Travel for Christmas. Come back. Now the first floor back-hall smoke detector is beeping. (At least I have a fucking battery. Get my big stupid ladder down the back hall, knock every wall on the way down, and replace that battery).

I get first month's heating bill (I'd been living there for 10 days if even.) $334. Jesus christ. Likely due to the boiler issue.

Electricity goes out for the evening, same day as I get this bill from the gas and electric company, because fuck you I guess.

Homeowners insurance log in doesn't work. I haven't received my bill, which I need to pay.

Radiators bang in the middle of the night. Something something about them being old or not level or full of ghosts. Cool I don't need to sleep or whatever.

I've received no correspondence from the bank about my first mortgage payment. It'll be due Jan 1st, which is a holiday, so I reach out early. They say it's in the mail.

I monitor my mail every day. I receive no mail. I contact again. I reach out to my old apartment building in case it's there (they can't tell me). I sign up for a bank account with them online. I jump through various hoops to discover the bank has my address wrong. The address of the place the mortgage is on...

They had the mortgage address right. They had my home address as identical to the mortgage address but with one number missing. No one noticed. They'd been sending my stuff to a non-existent address, or the back of a college warehouse, I haven't quite figured it out.

I jump through more hoops to pay my mortgage payment with a check in the mail (I had to go buy stamps and an envelope) (late, but they assure me there's no penalty, but are you sure.)

^This has all been about 2 weeks. btw.

(I get a therapist, and find my way to being seen by a psychiatrist, which I guess is good but jesus is it $$$. Still figuring out how to use my stupid HSA)

People on floor 1 move out. They've got contractors in constantly renovating the place top to bottom. I get all their paint fumes.

Sound proofing doesn't exist, turns out. I hear my downstairs neighbors' conversations. I hear their tv. I hear street conversations. One night it was pouring rain and I was woken up by the sound of something banging against the house. Like genuinely banging. I go outside and investigate - it's a car idling with their windshield wipers going. Windshield wipers. Why would that be audible. Walls made of paper.

Floor 1 contactors leave the back door open one night. Luckily I wasn't storing anything in the back hall and had the door to my interior locked.

I receive my next month's heating bill. $689. I call the gas company and they shrug. I call the plumber and he shrugs. I turn the heat way down cuz I don't know. I dunno. Something's wrong with the boiler but it just got serviced so I dunno. I have to call someone else.

Speak of the devil, cones appear immediately outside my building declaring there's going to be gas line work. For a month. They start with the jackhammers at 8am every weekday. It's gonna be a month. I miss the windshield wipers.

We have a weekend of arctic freeze. -30F windchill. I go down to the basement Sunday morning to do laundry. Floor 1 contractors have outdone themselves by leaving a window open. Pipe had burst in floor 1 and was pouring water down into the basement, totally flooded.

I have to call the plumber, and flag the Floor 2 people about it and they at least find the master water shutoff. I'm dealing with the plumber and I have no water for half the day and no laundry for me.

I want to lie down in a marsh for a bit.

#chrissy speaks #this isnt even touching on the stuff I am simply BAD at #like figuring out furnishing #which has been a whole fucking ordeal but thats because im bad at it so its not like i can blame anything else

460 notes · View notes

petrolstationflowers · 7 months ago

Text

Do your sims yearn for the dark embrace of the mines? Obsess over shiny stones, have a collection of hard hats? Why not give the Mining career a go, where they can dig up all the dirt and rocks they desire! This is the last in the batch of requests from Catrillion

This job is available for YA - Elder, and you can join via the Science Lab. No opportunities, uniforms, or books. Please note you will need Ambitions installed as you need the hidden Collecting and Consignment skills.

Three skill tones are available at work, with no boss or coworkers:

Swing Pickaxe (Athletics) Gather Resources (Collecting) Sell Findings (Consignment)

Please note Collecting and Consignment are both hidden skills, which you can track through MasterController. Athletics and Collecting appear at Level 2, but Consignment won't appear until level five. The carpool will also not show up until level 5. This career only goes up to level 8.

Levels under the readmore:

Pet Rock Collector - 10 simoleans p/h, 12:00 - 16:00, M-F Description - You’re down to eating wildflower salads and artistically stacking rocks you find in the park because you can’t afford decor. Times are tough and the grocery store isn’t hiring – what to do? Luckily the old mines have just opened up again and they’ll accept anyone without claustrophobia and enjoys hitting rocks. It’s better than the unemployment office, so get applying! Human Canary - 12 simoleans p/h, 06:00 - 14:00, M-F Description - Nothing quite says “expendable,” like being told to monitor the gas levels lest they get too high. You’ve been given a box with a scary looking radar and a blinking light and told when the box starts beeping, sound the alarm and tell your fellow miners to get out. If you don’t die from carbon monoxide poisoning, there actually might be a career in this! Cart Pusher - 15 simoleans p/h, 06:00 - 14:00, M-F Description - Another unfortunate soul gets to be the canary now you’ve moved on to bigger and better things. Granted, it’s only wheeling carts of coal and mined ore along the tracks so they can be sent to the surface, but you’re getting your step count in and there’s less danger of suffocating. Do a good job and you might actually get to sit down next time you’re promoted! Rock Inspector - 20 simoleans p/h, 14:00 - 22:00, M-F Description - A chair… a coffee machine… central heating… after too long working underground, this is bliss. You’re tasked with sorting the rocks into anything that might be remotely valuable, sorting your pebbles from your coal, your diamonds from your quartz. You’ll need a keen eye to tell them apart and plenty of patience, so stock up on podcasts and polish your magnifying glass. Consignment Carrier - 25 simoleans p/h, 09:00 - 17:00, M-F Description - Finally, out into the fresh air! Your bosses have deemed you trustworthy enough to take the gems and coal to the local consignment store and barter the best prices for them. Strong arms are a must, as well as the gift of the gab – because if you get short changed, it’ll be coming out your pocket. Money Seeking Miner - 50 simoleans p/h, 06:00 - 14:00, M-F Description - Fresh air is great and all, but there’s gold in them hills and you’ve got bills to pay. Since there’s been talk of mysterious yellow eyes in the mine, workers have quit en masse and management are offering big incentives to get back down in the pit. Plus they’ve promised that if you find anything fun, you get to keep it! Gem Seeker - 75 simoleans p/h, 06:00 - 14:00, M-F Description - The mines are lovely, dark, and deep, and you’ve spent so many hours down here, you’re forgetting what sunlight looks like. You’re in the more lucrative veins now, digging out gold and rubies as big as your hand, but you’ve heard of the legendary pink diamond and are determined to find it. Who knows, maybe that’s your ticket out of here? Mine Owner - 250 simoleans p/h, 10:00 - 16:00, M-F Description - You’ve found it, the pink diamond in the rough! After swiftly selling it for millions of simoleans, you’re making enough to take over the mine itself and take over operations! What will you look for? Rainbow gems? Shang Simlan artefacts? Perhaps pull up as many space rocks as you can to try and entice the aliens? On the flip side, maybe you should get back into painting pet rocks with all your free time…

Translations: I've included the English Strings in the file; if anyone is talented enough to translate, I would be incredibly grateful, so please let me know in the comments!

With thanks: To MissyHissy's career building tutorial!

#ts3 #ts3cc #the sims 3 #sims 3 #sims 3 custom content #sims 3 custom job #sims 3 custom career

31 notes · View notes

vasthi-instruments12 · 2 years ago

Text

0 notes

acapelladitty · 10 months ago

Text

Monomania: Part 3

Summary - As the latest victim of Homelander's cruel and obsessive nature, Hughie Campbell finds himself playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a man who proves just how monstrous a hero can be.

(tw: unhealthy obsession, n-con, manipulation, abusive language/behaviours, forced oral/hj, mild violence)

Parts 1 & 2

"Oi, fuck off, Hughie. There's no way that happened."

Stopping dead in his tracks as he strode through the familiar hallways of Vought HQ, Homelander found himself straining his delicate hearing as he picked up the unmistakably smug and accented voice of William Butcher.

"You really are a fucking gimp." The voice continued, a bellied laugh quickly following the affectionate insult and something in how genuine it sounded sparked a twitch in Homelander's jaw - his stomach roiling with a feeling that a lesser man might call jealousy. Unwilling to contend with the possessive thought for the moment, he straightened his spine and turned the corner, almost walking into the man himself as he rounded the sharp turn.

"William!" Homelander greeted, venom hiding plainly across his tone as his lips stretched into a faux, welcoming grin. "I'm surprised to see you here." His eyes swept past the recognisable glare which William always afforded him to the even taller man standing just behind him - a cruel joy leaping into his chest as he met Hughie's eyes and watched the way that his eyes narrowed, and his hackles raised in an instant.

"And… Hughie, was it? Starlight's little,” he paused, “boyfriend?"

"Aww, you're famous, lad." William countered smoothly, his shoulders shifting to move in front of Hughie's body without thought as he subconsciously stood between the two, taking a moment to glance back at Hughie with a cocked smile. "Look, even the cunts up here know who you are. Remind me to get an autograph on my arse."

Fingers flexing against his gloves, the temptation to snap William’s fucking neck then and there was strong. Not only for the insult, but the way in which he thought he could, even unknowingly, interfere with his ongoing fun sparked a heated rage deep within his chest which surprised even him. Holding back the urge to lash out, Homelander instead settled his weight back on his heels as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, it was a pleasure as always.” Homelander bit out through gritted teeth. “But, places to be, heroic acts to fulfil. See you later, ladies." He smiled, the threat of violence unspoken but always present as he swept past the pair, ensuring to not spare an extra glance in Hughie's direction even as his familiar scent made his nose twitch in anticipation.

William was a wild card in his plans.

He was fond of Hughie, even an idiot could see that. The tight, defensive glare which burned from his skull when Hughie’s life was on the line and his rashness in trying to protect the man wasn’t well hidden. If William suspected anything of his little games then things would grow more complicated than he could be bothered with.

Turning to a new corridor as the two continued to leave, the last snippet of speech which Homelander picked up between the pair was Hughie telling Butcher to hold up in the lobby so he could use the bathroom. At the words, interest peaked in Homelander’s expression as his earlier irritation rose again to prick at his senses.

Perfect.

Oddly enough, Vought did not in fact monitor the bathrooms within the building with anything outside of smoke and carbon monoxide alarms. A fact which made it very easy to slip into the bathroom only a few moments after hearing the door click shut.

As silent as the grave, the small bathroom was empty save for the rhythmic beat of Hughie's heart. Another temptation rose unbidden in his mind, sordid visions of having Hughie on his knees as he swallowed him down making his mouth momentarily dry but again it was too risky to follow through on. Not on home turf. Not with Vought eyes everywhere. There was only so much he could get away with without scandal.

But, like this…

Homelander approached Hughie from behind as he started to fumble with his jeans, his throat humming away at some unknown tune. Hands acting in a flash of movement, his right slipped around to cover Hughie's mouth as his left pushed his lower back forward - pinning him roughly to the wall by the urinal.

A muffled cry of surprise was held in place by his fingers as Hughie's heartrate spiked, rushing his blood around his body in sheer panic as he found himself unable to move.

"Midnight." Homelander growled, enjoying the feeling of power as his fingers pressed into Hughie's spine, knowing that a single squeeze could turn the bones there to dust. "Your apartment. If you're not alone then I'll kill anyone else who's there after having some fun." He paused, tilting his head closer until his nose was practically brushing the thick curls which hung on the back of Hughie's head as he inhaled the woody scent of him deeply.

"And wear something nice, little Hughie. I like effort." Homelander added, allowing his semi-hard bulge to brush against Hughie's hip. "Makes me hard."

And with one final testing sniff of the fear which was beginning to tinge the air, he released his hands and slipped free of the bathroom quicker than the human eye could comprehend.

Zipping from the bathroom to one of the nearby supply closets, Homelander pressed his back gently to the thick wooden door. His cock twitched within his costume, feeling heavy and hard as it remained trapped by the thick fabric, and he rolled the palm of his heel across it, teasing himself with a sharp exhale.

Oh, yes.

He could wait until midnight.

x-x-x-x-x

As the clock ticked down, Homelander couldn't deny the genuine excitement that nipped at his senses. Tonight, he would take his little game to the next level and finally get what he really wanted. The foreplay was all fun but his little interaction with Hughie in the bathroom had only solidified his determination and tonight would prove that Hughie was the right choice. Someone who could give him what he needed.

Patting his pocket to ensure that his planned surprise was safely stowed away, fantasy ruled his thoughts as he took off on the short trip to Hughie's apartment. Images of Hughie, his blazing eyes piercing his own as he wrapped those long legs around his waist, roiled within his mind. Those thin fingers squeezing at his throat as growls, bestial as fuck, slipped free of his curled lips. Hatred and fear. Adrenaline thick in the air. His cock slipping between Hughie's lips as he stared down at him.

Groaning as his feet landed on the balcony once more, Homelander was already breathless, and he took a moment to collect himself before slipping through the door. Immediately, he sensed Hughie and followed his heartbeat to find him sitting on one of the shitty couches which littered his cheaply furnished living room.

Lips splitting into a grin, Homelander took in the dark t-shirt and jeans which housed Hughie’s delightfully lanky frame with a giddy joy.

"Low effort. Wow." He popped his lips on the final word. “Really pulled out all the stops for me.”

"Fuck you." A simple reply as Hughie stood to his full, impressive height - the tension across his shoulders was unmissable. "And fuck whatever this is. But you won't hurt anyone else."

"I don't want to hurt anyone else." Homelander lied.

"Just me. Is that it? Some kind of fucked up punishment for Annie or Butcher just because you can't get to them instead?" Thoughts running away with him, Hughie's voice raised an octave as he quickly grew defensive at his continued confusion with his own predicament. "I won't hurt them. Annie. Butcher. Whatever sick shit you're planning. I won't. You'd be better killing me now."

"It's you I want, little Hughie. And as a show of," Homelander ruffled his shoulders until a satisfying pop went through his neck, "good will for our new arrangement, I even brought you this."

Throwing the item in his pocket over to Hughie's chest, he watched as Hughie caught it and brought it to eye level in the dim lighting before continuing.

"Take it."

Gazing down at the vial of compound v with obvious uncertainty, Hughie could only manage out a soft. "What? Why?"

"Take. It."

"Why?"

"You don't want to find out what'll happen if you don't." Homelander smiled, a strained smirk which did nothing to hide his irritation at the delay. "Trust me, little Hughie, you'll need your strength if you want to stand a chance against me. Take it and then you can get me. You can have me."

That did it, and a desperate determination entered Hughie's features as he slammed the small vial of liquid back. It was a determination which made Homelander's gut clench as he sadistically looked forward to stripping it away from him piece by sorry piece.

Arousal aside, it was interesting to watch a human react to the compound. Hughie's heartbeat picked up in an instant, pacing so quickly that Homelander watched with open fascination as his limbs trembled and a thin sheen of sweat erupted on his forehead. His movements even became quicker, fingers clenching and unleashing so quickly that it would be difficult for normal eyes to pick them up.

Little Hughie was all juiced up and Homelander held back a grunt as something unexpected joined the growing scent of sweat and adrenaline in the air.

Arousal.

Arousal which was definitely not his own.

In an instant and clearly hoping to catch him off-guard, Hughie lunged for him and Homelander laughed breathily as the sudden force knocked them both to the floor in a pile of thrashing limbs. Hughie's carpets were in rough shape, the stink of some cheap cleaning power making Homelander's noise twitch but he ignored it in favour of focusing on the welcomed heat which now pinned him to the floor.

Hughie's movements were a mess, the fresh power coursing through his veins making him jerky and uncontrolled. Almost animalistic in his unrestrained aggression as he straddled Homelander's waist.

"See. Now you have me. What next?" Homelander asked, his hips rolling despite himself as he ground himself into Hughie’s ass.

"Going to," Hughie panted and his fingers looped around Homelander's neck, "kill you."

"Really?" Homelander tutted, one hand wrapping around Hughie's hands to prevent any actual strangulation while the other dropped to Hughie's hip, fingers squeezing at the flesh there roughly enough to ensure some wicked bruising. "Do you think that's what's going to happen here?"

"Fuck. You." Hughie growled, some strands of his dark hair falling over his forehead with the effort of his movements.

"Maybe." Eyes dilating at the prospect, Homelander gave a mocking chuckle as he considered it. "But not tonight, little Hughie. Tonight, you're going to touch me."

"You're disgusting."

"And if you don't then I'll have to find someone else to do it. Maybe sweet Annie. I hear she's good with her mouth."

Pain, sharp and delicious, ricocheted through his jaw as Hughie's fist connected with his face. The sensation sparked a bloodlust which made his cock twitch and his tongue flick against his slack lips as he took in Hughie's furious gaze. The hand which had been pressing into Hughie's hips dropped, instead grasping messily at the seam of his costume as he struggled to pull the fabric down to free his cock.

Feeling the struggle as his gaze dipped to watch, revulsion twisted Hughie's features but with it came a hateful acceptance as he released Homelander's neck and instead slipped his ass back far enough to allow Homelander to slide his costume down far enough to allow his cock to spring free – the length immediately jutting proudly as it brushed his lower stomach.

Silence reigned for a moment, awaiting the break that would be the point of no return and Homelander gnashed his teeth impatiently as he snapped his hand around Hughie's wrist, forcing his hand onto his aching cock. The relief was immediate as the heat from Hughie's palm seemed to scorch the sensitive skin of his cock, giving him something concrete and cruel to focus on as his other hand slipped around Hughie's thigh, fingers digging in to his jeans.

Hughie's grip tightened painfully and Homelander unleashed a strangled gasped as Hughie’s fingers moved almost experimentally across his length - the bottom of his fist brushing the smattering of blonde pubic hair which lined the base of his cock.

"You're disgusting." Hughie spat, his anger and humiliation at being forced to pleasure a man he saw as a monster making his eyes flash and teeth bare themselves like an animal. "And this is fucked. It’s sick."

"But you're so good at it." Homelander countered with a throaty purr as his hips helped to thrust his cock into the hand jerking him off. "Look at how good you're doing it. Like you were made t-"

"You're a real fucking monster and I want to hear you admit it."

"Yeah, I'm a monster." Homelander gasped out, the words garbled and unclear as his breath caught in his throat due to Hughie's fingers brushing the ultra-sensitive ridge where his cockhead met the shaft. Hughie’s hand was dry and rough, almost irritating in how little it cared for his pleasure, and that dismissal made his head feel light as he allowed the rawness of the sensation to claw across his aching groin.

As though sensing his enjoyment, Hughie released his cock long enough to land a rough punch to his jaw, the blow forcing his head to the side once more as colour bloomed high in his cheeks at the rough contact.

"Say it right.”

"I'm a monster."

This time, the words were more of a whine as Homelander canted his hips against Hughie's ass - wordlessly begging for his hand again. True disgust rolled across Hughie's face as he reluctantly obliged, his fingers dropping to Homelander's cock once more to catch his aching length in a grip that would have been unbearably painful for a regular man.

"You're pathetic and cruel." Hughie continued, every snapped word matched by his hand as he twisted his wrist with each velvety jerk. "You're fucking sick. Insane."

Pinned to the floor and so fucking hard that he felt his cock was going to explode, Homelander could only whimper out weak agreements as his fingers clawed at Hughie's shoulders.

Pathetic.

Cruel.

Monster.

"Yes." Homelander agreed, repeating the word like a mantra as he chased his release. The tight band of arousal in his groin felt ready to snap, and his blurred eyes met Hughie's as he grunted out his pleasure.

There, buried beneath the hatred and disgust, lay a twisted satisfaction which made his balls tighten and his cock spasm; thin ropes of his release coating both his cock and the hand which continued to pump him through his orgasm. Hughie’s rough grip refused to relent, as though determined to force him to feel every touch and it prolonged the obscene line of pleasure and pain which his spasming cock was enduring.

Hughie liked hurting him.

Liked hitting him and humiliating him.

Little Hughie enjoyed hurting him in a way that he understood far too well and that was enough for him to know he had made the right choice.

His.

Distracted as he were, Homelander almost didn't notice when Hughie released his cock until thin fingers were pushing at his lips with a brutal insistence. Drained from his orgasm, he opened his mouth as prompted and was immediately met with the taste of his own release as Hughie thrust his cum-soaked fingers deeply into his mouth.

It was unexpected and so fucking hot that Homelander couldn't stop his tongue from wrapping around the thin fingers as the salty tang of his mess clouded his senses further. Turned out Hughie had more in him that he could have suspected, and he played his part well as his rage and humiliation channelled into a very decent handjob.

Maybe he did deserve a reward and a cruel idea alit in Homelander's mind, something he suspected would solidify Hughie as his own and put an end to any dipshit ideas that he had any control between them.

Knocking Hughie to his back with one swift push, Homelander didn't give him a moment to breathe before his shaky hands were fumbling messily at Hughie's jeans until he had enough purchase to pull Hughie's cock free of his boxers.

A part of Homelander, the part that was still firmly rooted in the sickness of reality, knew that Hughie was only hard because of the adrenaline of the compound v; his cock responding to the fact that his heart was attempting to beat itself out of his chest. But an even deeper part of him understood that the darkness he saw reflected in Hughie was truly relishing the chance to punish him, to make him suffer for his 'wrongs', and that part of him would always make sure that he was ready to hurt him in the way that he wanted.

Fuck, he needed to taste him.

The saltiness of his own release was still harsh against his tongue and the pure need to wash it away with something even more twisted gnawed at his chest. It was too difficult to ignore, not that he tried, and he slid his body down Hughie's in an almost serpentine motion until he was able to kneel with his face coming to a halt between Hughie's outstretched legs.

Keeping a grip on Hughie's cock, Homelander marvelled for a moment at how long is felt in his palm. Longer than his own for sure but not quite as thick, and where his cock was ringed by a halo of pristine golden pubes, Hughie opted for a more closely shaven look with his pubic hair being dark and stubbled across the base of his cock.

"N-no!" Hughie stuttered, bravado fleeing him as he looked down his own body and realised what was going to happen. The horror washing across his face was as pretty as a picture and Homelander tilted his head to take it in better. "This isn't- you can't fucking do that."

"Can't? I can do anything I want. I'm the fucking Homelander."

And with that, Homelander strengthened his grip on Hughie's cock as he closed his lips over the head, his tongue quickly darting forward to wrap around and taste the new experience while his eyes marvelled at the aroused nausea which crossed Hughie’s features at the explicit act he was being made to endure.

Lacking experience, Homelander knew that his head skills were a mess as he tried to imitate the many people who had blown him over the years. His hand pumped gently across the base of Hughie's length, conscious of his vast strength, as his lips sucked at the head - knowing how sensitive his own was and how it was likely that Hughie would be the same.

A sharp pain in his scalp made him grunt as Hughie's fingers tugged at his hair, weakly attempting to pull him free of his cock as a series of gasping pleas and refusals broke free of his stuttering lips.

"What's that, little Hughie? Speak up. Kinda busy down here." Homelander darted his eyes between Hughie's face and the cock which now lay only an inch from his lips, coated by his own saliva and wickedly hard despite its owners’ protestations.

"Please, don't. Don't make me do it."

"I'm not making you do anything. I mean, look what you did for me. I'm just returning the favour. If you don't like me doing it then-"

Homelander’s gloved finger trailed along the tip of Hughie's cock, gathering a little of the pre-cum which was leaking from his tip. Bringing it to his lips, he made a loud popping noise with his finger as he licked it up with a cruel smile.

"-why the fuck are you as wet as a slut?

"You fucker!" Hughie hissed, his eyes glistening with a frustrated moisture as his body betrayed him. "Bastard! You knew what the compound v would do! You fucking knew! This isn't- I don't want this!"

Homelander hummed in quiet disagreement, sucking Hughie's cock between his lips once more as he kept him pinned to the floor by his hips. The scent of Hughie, the natural musk which seemed to haunt the man, invaded his senses and he sighed out in satisfaction as Hughie's cock gave a very definite twitch in his mouth and he knew that the inevitable was approaching.

With a strangled noise, a mild sob which could easily be mistaken for a groan, Hughie came and victory clawed around Homelander's heart as his unwanted release flooded his mouth. Ropes of cum coated his tongue and he swallowed them down greedily, making a show of his win by refusing to let up on his torments - continuing to lick and tease away at Hughie's cock until his struggles grew more desperate as overstimulation quickly set in.

Taking pity on his defeated prey, Homelander released him. In a few sharp movements, Hughie was gone from him in a flash - his body backing off across the carpet until his back struck the nearby wall. His softening cock hung free of his jeans, the tip of it glistening with his release and Homelander's spit and the expression on his face was so beautifully broken that Homelander remained on his stomach for a moment to admire it.

"Not so 'little' Hughie then." Homelander purred, sadistic joy at how perfectly his evening had gone making him chatty. "If I'd know that then maybe I would have set us up quicker than this. I think I'll blame William and his pointless vendetta."

"Leave-" Hughie muttered out, his voice hollowed, "just leave me alone."

Rising to his knees, Homelander followed Hughie's path towards the wall as he crawled towards him, only coming to a pause right in front of his prone frame. From here, the visible tremble of Hughie’s limbs as his arms wrapped around his knees was clear and Homelander almost felt a tendril of pity for him.

"Can't. Sorry." Homelander confessed, not truly feeling very sorry at all. "But I think we both know you're not mad at me. Nope. You're pissed that you came and that you liked making me come."

Whatever protests Hughie had went killed in the crib by Homelander placing one gloved finger over his lips.

"I saw it and if you lie it'll just make me angry."

"Why the compound v?" Hughie asked, the question catching Homelander off guard as his bleary eyes caught his own. "Why bother? It doesn't make a difference. Didn’t work."

"Despite what you think, little Hughie, I don't want you to break too easily. The compound v keeps things,” he hesitated to think of the best word to use, “interesting."

"Why me?"

His cock softened and sated, Homelander took a moment to tuck it away back into his costume as he fixed himself up fully.

"Because I can." Was his easy reply as he stood to his feet and ruffled his hand in Hughie's hair like stroking a well-behaved pup. "And because you've been a pain in my ass for too long. C'mon little Hughie, don’t be so glum, it'll be a ride and I'll always make sure that you get yours as much as I get mine."

That thought, more than anything else, seemed to be the straw that broke the camels’ back as a dry retch caught in the back of Hughie's throat and his unfocused eyes dropped to the floor.

Moving towards the kitchen to return to his easy escape route on the balcony, Homelander stopped long enough to throw one last dig at his new favourite toy.

"And remember, not a word to anyone about our little bouts of fun. I don’t share my things well."

With that, Homelander took off once more, diving into the night sky with a satisfied smile which those who knew him best shudder to understand as being one born of sadistic delight.

#just not a nice lad #the boys #homelander x hughie #homelander #hughie campbell #hughie x homelander #the boys amazon #anthony starr #jack quaid #william butcher #billy butcher

31 notes · View notes