#peak “back from the dead” behaviour

[sullina]

Shadowpeach?

They're like a divorced couple to me <3

[unknownunidentified101]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

SCENARIO || In which he confines in you after experiencing so many lifetimes of you

WARNINGS || angst to fluff . Spoilers from the story

CHARACTERS || Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier

𝗭𝗔𝗬𝗡𝗘 ||

In his eyes he witnessed a blurry yet clear person ahead of him. The more he reached out, the more they seemed to walk away. “ forget me..dear Zayne” they muttered as a farewell. That beautiful tone was one that Zayne could never forget

Zayne reached out a hand, his chest felt like stopping right there, as if to keep the moment frozen in time. “ wait..” he manages to break his silence

The figure ahead spares no glances to him and continues into the ever lasting light. Zayne reached out his hand, his feet unable to move before he hears a voice call out to him

“ Zayne?” A worried tone cooed over him. Zayne’s eyes blink and they adjust to his surreal environment. “ your awake! Thank god, thought you were dead” he hears your voice

“ what..?” He manages to find his glasses beside him. “ you never sleep. Usually your awake” you grumble to the bewildered man

Zayne tries not to sound rude or harsh, “ what are you doing here?” He tries to back track to what he was doing before

“ I was worried. You haven’t picked up my calls. You haven’t ate either! And I’m pretty sure it’s time for you to go home” you rant. Zayne finds his lips curving upwards

Your voice still sounded like heaven to him.

“ now that you’re fine, I’ll leave this to you, the nurse told me to give it to you.” You sensed the silence Zayne was emitting. It felt suffocating.

Zayne’s eyes follow you as you quickly shuffle to his door. He then realises the person in his dreams were you. He still didn’t want to let you go just yet.

“ wait-“ Zayne springs out his chair and tugs your wrist

“ huh. What is it Zayne?” Your stare averting. His eyes weren’t as cold as before, they seemed to carve for something something. “ please…stay for a while” Zayne found himself silently begging

“ where’s this behaviour from?” You find yourself giggling at his request. “ …okay!” You give in after some silence

Before you could take another step, your eyes stuck out to him.

Your gaze was familiar, Zayne engulfs you into a tight embrace. “ I want you to look at me with those eyes forever ” he whispers in your ears

He means the eyes you gave when you were in awe or in love. He adores your eyes, just like in his past life, those eyes gave him so much closure. It didn’t matter who you laid your eyes on, he just wanted your eyes on him

You didn’t get him now, and you thought you would never get him. “ what eyes? ” you pat his shoulders

XAVIER ||

“ I don’t get your obsession with stars” you huff, crossing your arms

“ stars..?” Xavier repeats after you, his tone lacing with worry. “ I don’t know, you always look at those star charms and I saw some stickers in your apartment” you remark

Xavier’s lips quiver, stars. He smiles at your comment. You looked completely clueless to him, considering you started his obsession with stars a long long time ago.

“ their cute” he only states

“ cute? Okay..” you try to hide your excitement

“ does it bother you?” Xavier’s head tilts downward, his curiosity peaking at your sneaky comments. “ it’s just…I got this for you” you pull out a star charm

Xavier’s lips part, he is more than shocked at receiving a gift from you, it all happened so fast. “ I thought you would like it, considering you like stars” you try to hide your embarrassment

Xavier pauses for a brief moment, his memories haunt him like the flu. ‘ have this’ he still remembers your voice. The voice that offered him the very same charm. No matter how far he was from the stars, he would find you again and again.

He would go above and beyond to finally lay his eyes on you. No matter how you part, you will be reunited with him

“ do you not like it?” You were met with mere silence. Xavier snaps out of his daze and looks back at you. “ I love it” his tone is sincere

“ really..?” You felt proud

Xavier hides the sadness in his tone, “ I love it. So much” he adds. “ can I hug you?” He questions

You are a bit taken back at his comments. “ hug me?” You repeat

“ yes, as a thankful gift” Xavier waves his new charm to you. “ okay” you nod. Xavier pulls you closer without any more questions.

He wanted to be bound to you forever. No matter how many lifetimes it took him.

His hands lay on your head and waist. Now that you couldn’t see his face, his eyes soften. They threatened to cry

“ I knew you would come back.”

RAFAYEL ||

“ poor fish” he dismisses, only giving a glance to the fish in the tank. “ trapped without any freedom” he crosses his arms

“ reminds me of someone” you mutter, your fingers gazing over the glass

“ what makes you say that?” Rafayel’s interest is peaked, he looks back at you

“ I don’t know. I just felt like saying it. I don’t even know what I mean” you found it silly to think such thoughts

Rafayel takes a moment to admire your laughs. Reminds you of someone? Did you mean him? It all made sense considering what happened in your past life. Yet you didn’t remember an ounce of it.

Poor Rafayel. He hated waiting and for you to forget him made his heart ache uncontrollably. Yet, at least you were back together

“ at least the fish has someone with it” Rafayel points out a valid point. The fish was not alone in that tank, swimming with another fish. “ perhaps” you agree, staring back at Rafayel

“ is there anything else you wanted to do today?” You wondered, your mind thinking of all the possibilities. “ thinking about me my bodyguard ?” Rafayel teases

“ well you insisted today was special. So I took you out as a gift” you pouted, unaware today was the day you made a vow. A special vow with Rafayel before he could walk

“ what if I asked you for a even more unique gift?” Rafayel tilts his head. You look at him, clearly confused

“ can I get it right now?” You looked around for any stores. Rafayel shakes his head and takes your hand in his, stroking it softly

“ you’re the only one who has it you know” he trails off. “ what do you want?” You were keen to know what he wanted

“ the rest of my life with you” he mutters back.

[emmyrosee]

i am back once again and reading your atsumu and kuroo works 💪💪💪

personal favs are probably dad!au’s because OH LY GOSHSKE THTEYRE SO CUTE like no need to make me scream at the most random points throughout the dayJEJSSJJSDJS

idk. i DID have a random thought when reading one of the atsumu stories (i think it was the one where hisako was being a little rat???) and i wanted to share.

the thought was about hisako randomly calling her father old and i imagined papa tsumu getting all insecure and sulky whenever the topic of age comes up. bro literally ends up checking for white hairs in the mirror even though he knows damn well he just dyes over them, even checks his behaviour to see if he does anything that’s considered “old school” iykwim ?? AND HISAKO DOESNT MAKE THIS ANY EASIER FOR HIM BECAUSE SHES A MENACE (like her father frfr)

no idea what i’m doing, actually. just wanted to share 🙏🤭🤭🤭🤭

HE LITERALLY BECOMES “how do you do, fellow kids” IM SO DEAD-

-

“Baby, do you think I should completely go blonde?”

“No, Atsumu.”

You continue to fold your clothes while Atsumu pokes and pulls the hair at his scalp, searching and digging for any semblance of grey that may try to peak out. He’s gotten a few from the undercut, but now the ones at the fluffy mop of hair adoring the top of his head is harder to find. He’s determined, and if it wasn’t making him so self conscious, it be cute watching the corner of his tongue sticking out as he plays with his hair.

“You sure? Because my grey’s aren’t as visible.”

You sigh and make your way to your husband, laying a hand on his shoulder, “honey, I don’t care if you have blonde hair, or straight grey hair. I love you. I’d just hate to watch you change your entire being because our little terror has been a little more feral lately.”

He pouts and pulls you in for a hug, “I’m getting old.”

“We both are, baby.”

“Yeah, but you’re aging beautifully. I’m aging like milk.”

“Okay, that’s it-“ you say firmly, leaving the room briefly to head to hisako’s, who’s playing with her toys post-bath and in her favorite jammies. “Hisako, baby, can you come talk to daddy? I think you made him a little sad when you were teasing him earlier.”

“Daddy sad?” She asks, eyes curved in worry.

“A little bit. Come on. Let’s go get daddy.” You scoop her up in your arms and make your way back to your bedroom, “atsumu, hisako has something she’d like to say to you.”

He winces, but she reaches her arms out to him to be held, which he does. “I’m sorry daddy!” She chirps. “Was only teasin’ like uncle Samu. No hurt feelings!”

He smiles and rests his head against hisako’s, “thank you baby… daddy was just feeling a little self conscious about it.”

“No, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to…”

“I know angel girl,” he assures, kissing her temple. They stay close, relishing in each others warmth while you smile close by, but when hisako pulls away and tugs a grey hair out of Atsumu’s head, you pinch your eyes with a smirk.

“Got it daddy!” She giggles.

“You little brat,“ he pinches up her sides while she squirms in his grip, but it seems only to be playful as she gives him a childish, wet kiss on his cheek after.

“Just kidding daddy!”

[brummiereader]

PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (PART EIGHT/ DARK!TOMMY)

Summary: After Tommy gets mysteriously shot the responsibility to nurse him back to health falls on you. Will you be able to accept Tommy's apologies and give him a second chance when the guilt of how he has treated you slowly creeps up on him?

Warnings: Language, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, angst, controlling behaviour, toxic marriage, psychological mind games, Dark!Tommy (this is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

" Shot? What...what happened?" you said resting your back against the headboard, rubbing your eyes in the process as sleep continued to weigh them down.

" I don't know Y/N, I don't fucking know!" he replied in a panicked voice as he removed his peaked cap, pinching the bridge of his nose. " He's asking for you, come on let's go" he said grabbing your hand when you suddenly pulled it back. "He's your husband...what's wrong with you?" John asked as he furrowed his brow in confusion at your reluctance to follow. "What the fucks going on in here...?" he said looking around the somber room once again when the door suddenly flew open and Arthur came frantically running in.

"John! I can't get the bullet out by myself, you need to hold him still" Arthur said as he stood by the door, wiping the sweat from his forehead as blood dripped from his hands. As John ran out the door Arthur looked back at you, reaching his hand out for yours.

" Y/N. Tommy needs you" he said ushering you forward as he looked at the hesitation in your eyes.

"No..." you mouthed quietly, shaking your head as you grasped the bed sheets tightly in your hands.

" I don't have bloody time for this" he muttered under his breath as he let go of the door handle, quickly disappearing from the room.

Sitting on the edge of the bed you listened to the sound of your husbands cries echoing through the house as an unpleasant feeling arose in your chest. Contentment, contentment at hearing him in pain, hearing him suffer. The same level of pain and suffering he had unforgivably inflicted on you.

" Where's my wife?!" You heard him yell between groans as you now stood at the top of the stairs, your feet unwilling to move any further. His wife. The wife he had abused since the day you committed yourselves to eachother, the wife he had embarrassed and belittled without hesitation, the wife he had tormented relentlessly with his sadistic games, and now what? He expected you to comfort him like any loving wife would?

"Arthur hurry the fuck up and get it out, else I'll do it myself!" You heard Tommy bellow whilst you walked slowly down the large wooden stairs, the sudden desire to see him in pain pushing your feet forward with each step you took.

Waiting by the living room door you watched John pinning Tommy's arms back behind him as Arthur sat in front of him ripping his bloodied shirt from his body, giving it to John who then threw it into the crackling fire next to him.

"Shit Tommy, two inches to the left and you'd be a dead man" Arthur announced as he picked up his pocket knife dousing it in alcohol. "This is gonna hurt like hell brother..."

" Wait, wait!" Tommy said through gritted teeth as he spotted you."Y/N sweetheart, come to me" Tommy pleaded as he pulled his hand away from John's grip, desperately reaching out for you. With the three brothers now staring back at you, you felt you had no choice but to go to your husbands side. With his hand now firmly wrapped around yours, you finally looked down at the bullet hole below his collarbone. Arthur was right he could have died it was mere centimeters from his heart, almost the exact same location as a previous gunshot wound.

" Did you call an ambulance?" You said turning to John as Tommy's grip tightened around your hand at the sight of the knife moving closer to his body.

" I'm not leaving this house Y/N" Tommy said as he looked up at you, his hair disheveled, a layer of sweat coating his face as he breathed heavily through his nose.

"John" Arthur said looking to his brother as the youngest pulled Tommy's arms back once again. With one last glance to you, Tommy licked the sweat of his top lip nodding to Arthur as he braced himself for what was about to happen.

" Three two.." with the countdown unfinished Arthur plunged the sharp blade through the gaping hole in Tommy's chest, squeezing his fingers around the bullet hole as he tried to pry the led from his body. You watched on as all the bravado he once possessed left his body as he whimpered and yelled in pain, his eyes scrunched shut as the knife pierced his already wounded body. "There's the sneaky bastard" Arthur smiled as the silver bullet fell into his palm. "Here, one more to add to your collection" he chuckled, dropping the small piece of led into a glass ash tray on the table beside him. "Now drink this" he added, picking up a bottle of whiskey that Tommy swiftly grabbed from his hands, downing a third of what was left within a few seconds. " Right. Hold on" Arthur said taking it back, pouring the rest of its contents straight into the open wound.

" FUCKK!" Tommy shouted in response letting go of your hand, his eyes now locked on Arthurs face as his fist came up to punch his older brother in the cheek, a punch Arthur dodged almost instantly.

" Come on Tom, soldier up" Arthur laughed patting him on the back as he exchanged a grin with John." Y/N, you bandage him up" your brother-in-law said as he walked off to get himself a well deserved drink.

" Arthur I don't know how to..."

" There's nothing to it Y/N, here" John interrupted, passing you the bandages as you looked down at your husband hunched over trying to catch his breath.

" Maybe it's best..."

" Darling...please" Tommy said grabbing your arm, his thumb gently rubbing across your skin. Swallowing harshly you sat down in front of your husband as he tried to focus his eyes on you through the pain radiating through his chest, groaning as he straightened his posture out.

" Bet your loving this ey?" he scoffed as his trembling hands reached for the packet of cigarettes next to him, his eyes following yours as you placed a square of cotton over his open wound. Ignoring his remark you continued to bandage him up as Tommy tried to catch your eye, needy for his wife's attention. "Hey" he said grabbing your hand as you finished fastening the bandage across his chest. " You don't fucking care do you?" he asked tilting his head, squinting his eyes in disbelief as his cigarette hung from his lips. Looking away you tried to stand up, only for Tommy to pull your arm, forcing you back down Into the chair, his jaw clenching in annoyance at your continued refusal to meet his eyes.

" What happened?" Polly said walking through the door as she hurried over to Tommy to check the damage.

" Fuck sake" Tommy mumbled under his breath unaware his Aunt had been called.

" Found him on the ground by the front door as we pulled up" John said as he walked back over with a drink in his hand, seemingly unbothered by his brother having just been shot.

" John I'm gonna need a bit more information than that" Polly said as she opened the bandages to check the wound, her eyes darting to you still sitting next to your husband, his hand firmly holding onto yours.

" Bloody hell Pol!" Tommy said wincing in pain as she pushed the flesh around the bullet hole checking for any fragments. " The bullet came out clean, Arthur saw to that" he said looking over to his brother who tipped his glass of whiskey in Tommy's direction.

" Where's his shirt?" Polly asked as she looked back at her nephews." Where's his fucking shirt?!"

" John threw it in the fire. Polly will you calm down, I've got thumping headache after tonight's events" Arthur complained as he let himself drop into a nearby arm chair, desperate to go home.

" Bloody idiots" she mumbled under her breath looking up at the ceiling as if she was asking a higher power why she had been unfairly blessed with three halfwits for nephews. "Now that I don't have his shirt I can't see if any cloth is missing and lodged inside, can I?" she huffed standing up.

" I put half a bottle of whiskey on it, he's good" Arthur said rubbing his forehead as he let his head drop back onto the cushion behind him, closing his eyes.

" For your sake he better be. And you still haven't told me what happened" Polly asked as she placed her hands on her hips, looking around the room at each of her nephews.

" Was coming back from the stables. Two chancers tried their luck. Took a shot at me" Tommy explained casually without giving anymore detail as he took a drag of his cigarette.

" I didn't hear a gunshot" you spoke up, your eyes darting around the room at everyone only to catch Tommy's, his brows raised in surprise at your outspokenness as an unnerving glint shone in his eyes. Swallowing harshly you looked away as Tommy squeezed your hand in response. Had you said the wrong thing?

" They would have used a silencer love" Arthur said putting his feet up on the sofa in front of him.

" Have you checked the grounds?" Polly asked pushing Arthur's muddy boots off the sofa with her foot as Tommy's thumb firmly rubbed small circles into the back of your hand, a warning to not misbehave, a caution to not dare speak again. Slowly disconnecting from what was happening around you, you looked up to see a small smirk form on the corner of your husbands lips through the cigarette smoke leaving his mouth, his stare boring into you as he looked down at the exposed skin where your dressing gown had come loose. Pulling your hand away you abruptly stood up closing your gown tighter around your body as you walked over to the window whilst the sound of conversation re-entered your hearing.

" I need to rest" Tommy said standing up as he looked over to you.

" What you need is a doctor" Polly answered, pushing him back down as she walked over to where you was standing in concern.

" We've already called one, he should be here any minute" John announced as he poured himself another drink, shaking the bottle as the last few drops spilled out.

" Y/N love, would you go get us another bottle of whiskey" she asked placing her hand on your arm. " Are you ok? " she said quietly, her eyebrows raised at the worried expression spread across your face. What was Tommy playing at? He had men guarding the perimeters of the property since the day he dragged you back to Arrow House. How could he have gotten shot?

" I'm fine Polly" you said as you left the room, Tommy's eyes following you as he went to stand up again, only for his Aunt to stop him for a second time.

Out in the hallway you broke down in tears. You wanted everything to just stop. The nights sudden events had set your already fragile state on edge, and with the constant threat of Tommy's ongoing punishment looming over you, you couldn't help but think this was another part of his sadistic plan.

" My wife's upset I need to see her" Tommy said as he got up from his chair.

" I'll check on Y/N, you stay seated" Polly said pointing her finger at her nephew. Falling back into his seat Tommy clenched his jaw, pinching his bottom lip as he watched his Aunt leave the room, his inability to control the situation only frustrating him more.

"He's in there" Polly said pointing to the living room as the doctor walked into the foyer. " Y/N, come here" Polly said with her arms out as she walked over to you. "You're not okay, has anything else happened ?" she asked as you shook your head in response, nervously biting your nails. "Look what happened the other day.." she began to say unable to even explain the previous days events herself. " What happened should have never took place, what Tommy did was unforgivable, monstrous. Y/N, if you're searching for the man he once was you won't find him, he died a long time ago, and I fear he would be far worse without you by his side. He's my nephew and as much as I hate the man he has become he is still family, but so are you love. I can help you Y/N" she said as she held onto your arm. " Do you want help?" Looking away tears welled in your eyes as you clutched your arms around your body looking to the front door.

" No" you sobbed shaking your head, as you watched Tommy's figure approach you both in the corner of your eye.

" Y/N let's go to bed, the doctors given me the all clear" Tommy said walking to you with a bottle of medicine in his hand as Polly nodded her head, letting go of your arm as a defeated look spread across her face. You was a grown woman she couldn't force you, she had offered help, it was now your choice to take it or not.

" I'll stay until the morning, make sure you take that" she said over her shoulder as she walked away back into the living room.

With his hand resting on your lower back Tommy led you up the stairs as you both walked up to the second floor in silence.

" No, not this room " Tommy said as he took your hand leading you to one of the many guest rooms down the hallway. Opening the door Tommy walked you in as his eyes lustfully roamed over your body.

" Why this room?" You questioned as you looked around at the dimly lit bedroom.

"Just come to bed Y/N " he said as he pulled back the sheets waiting for you.

"Your medicine" you said pointing at the small bottle in his hand as you climbed under the sheets, turning around away from him. A few minutes later you felt him climb in, his arm wrapping around you as a grunt left him mouth at the pain coursing through his body. Within seconds you felt Tommy's lips kissing along the back of your neck, his hand resting on your upper thigh caressing small circles into your skin as his fingers slowly reached under your gown.

" You were teasing me downstairs sweetheart" he moaned quietly into your throat, his lips smiling into your skin as he grinded his hips against your body. Quickly moving away you pushed his hand off you, pulling the bed sheets closer to your body.

" Fuck sake" Tommy muttered under his breath as he rolled onto his back. " If you won't let me fuck you, will you at least talk to me?" He huffed as he looked over to you curled up on your side of the bed. " Your husband gets shot and you don't bat an eyelid. You're not as sweet and innocent as you claim to be" he scoffed as he turned back to you, pulling the sheets away from under your chin. "Hey, I'm talking to you"

" How did you get shot Tommy?!" you replied as you turned around to face him unable to ignore his remarks any longer, your emotions so heightened you ceased believing anything he said anymore.

" I already told you Y/N" he said looking away as you turned back around pulling the covers away from him.

" In sickness and in health ey" Tommy chuckled as he leaned over to turn the bedside light off, his head falling back onto the pillow as exhaustion overtook his body.

" You forgot the rest of your vows Tommy"

It was early morning when you rolled over to see Tommy breathing heavily, sweat coating his body as his head turned left and right in a delirious state.

" Tommy?" You said sitting up as you shook his arm trying to wake him. He was burning up, his pillow drenched, how long had he been like this? For a moment you just sat there and watched him as he breathed heavily through strangled groans. You could leave him, let him pay for everything he had done to you. You thought to yourself as you watched him tremble in pain.

" Get a doctor" Tommy croaked out grabbing your hand as if he could sense your apprehension. Nodding your head you walked out the bedroom making your way down the hallway until you suddenly stopped, your hand gripping tightly onto the top of the stair banister as the sound of the dials on the hallway clock turning ticked loudly in your ears. Taking a step back you turned around, tears welling in your eyes as you started to walk in the opposite direction. Was you really going to do this? Let your husband die? A sudden wave of guilt washed over you as you wrapped your arms around your body in a desperate attempt to comfort yourself.

" Y/N?" You heard Polly's voice say behind you as you let your arms drop to your sides. Turning around your eyes nervously darted to the bedroom then back to her. " What's going on?" She asked approaching you as she looked at the door.

" It's...it's Tommy he has a fever. I was going to call a doctor" you responded trying to avoid her stare.

" A doctor?" She questioned as she looked behind you, knowing the only telephone in the house was downstairs. Nodding you turned your head away as you frantically played with the sleeve of your dressing gown. " Ok Y/N, I want you to go downstairs and call doctor Taylor, ok?" Nodding you hurried past her as she watched you walk away. Did she know your true intentions?

With the doctor having been called and now tending to Tommy with Polly by his side, you waited downstairs aimlessly wandering around the house. You didn't want to see him, you didn't want to face him, guilt was consuming you. How could you have been so malicious in your disdain for your husband that you was ready to let him die a painful death? You thought to yourself looking out the front door as one of Tommy's men walked past. This wasn't like you, you wasn't him. As anxiety pumped though your body you ran over to the open door, desperate to feel the morning breeze on your face when one of Tommy's men stopped you.

"I just need some fresh air" you said trying to push past him.

" No one leaves the house, Tommy's orders" he replied as he looked past you.

" No one, or just me?" You said as he finally looked down at you. " I see" you said folding your arms turning around when your husband's sudden cry caught your attention.

" Y/N!" You heard Polly shout, calling your name as you hurried up the stairs to the bedroom.

Opening the door you immediately looked away at the sight of Tommy's infected wound as the doctor pulled out a small piece of cloth from the bullet hole. Grunting in pain Tommy's fingers came up to wrap around the doctors neck only for his hand to quickly fall back down onto the bed, his body too weak to fight.

" Did Mr Shelby take the medicine I prescribed?" He asked looking between you and Polly.

" Y/N?"

" Yes last night" you said trying to think back, did he take it? Why wouldn't he? Where was it? You questioned as your eyes darted around the room in search of the small bottle.

" Doctor" Polly said nodding to the door as he followed her out to talk in the corridor whilst you stood at the end of the bed looking anywhere but at your husband.

"Don't worry, I'll be dead soon" Tommy said swallowing back the swelling in his throat. He was deathly pale, his whole body trembling in pain as he tried to reach for the glass of water beside him whilst you watched on at his helplessness.

" Fuck sake" you mumbled under your breath as you walked to his side of the bed. Siting down next to him you gently lifted the back of his head as you poured small amounts of water into his mouth. After only a few sips Tommy pushed the glass away as his head fell back onto the pillow, looking at you through exhausted eyes.

" Everything's in your name" he said in lagged breaths as he tried to search for your hand.

" Why are you saying this?" you replied looking back at him scrunching you brow in confusion.

"Come on darling, don't lie to yourself. You've wanted me dead for a long time"

" Stop it Tommy, stop saying these things" you cried as you pulled your hand away. Was he playing the cruelest game of them all? Was he trying to make you feel pity for him after everything he had done to you?

" I've always loved you Y/N " he confessed as you looked away, tears streaming down your face quicker than you could brush them away.

"Y/N a word" Polly said as she entered the room pulling you to one side.

" Picked out my coffin yet?" Tommy coughed trying to let out a strangled laugh.

" Shut up" Polly said turning to face him. "The doctor said he needs to make it through the night if he's going to survive this infection. I have to go into the city before everything falls apart, you need to stay here and look after him, I'll be back in the morning, ok?"

" Polly no, you can't leave me here alone with him, I don't know what to do"

" You don't have a choice, he needs you Y/N" Polly said as she quickly left the room, not giving you a chance to argue any further with her.

Turning around you looked back at your husband as he lay in bed, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead as his body tried to rid itself of the infection taking over. Pacing back and forth, a feeling of frustration overwhelmed you at the cruel twist of fate. You was now the one who had to nurse him back to health when the only thing you wanted to do was watch the life slip away from him.

" Just leave Y/N " Tommy said as he tried to get up from the bed.

" What are you doing?" you said in annoyance as you walked over to him.

" Let me die" he replied as he laid back down. You wanted him to suffer, but seeing him like this, desperate and weak made your inner battle of anger and guilt fight eachother for dominance.

" Just shut up" you said giving in as you walked over to the bowl of water by his bed, angrily dipping the cloth into the cold water. Sitting down beside him you started to dab the sweat from his body as Tommy looked up at you.

"Y/N..."

" Stop talking Tommy, I don't want to hear it" you said as you threw the cloth back into the bowl your hands coming to your face in frustration. Reaching out Tommy's hand slowly moved up your arm, as he tried to move your fingers away from your face.

"Y/N, I'm sorry" he said as you looked back at him, tears streaming down your face.

" No Tommy, you don't get to say that after everything you've done, you don't get to do this!"

" I don't deserve you, I never did" as the last words left his mouth Tommy slowly closed his eyes as the final bits of strength faded within him.

For hours you stayed by his bedside, wiping the sweat from his body, bandaging and cleaning his wound, hushing him as strangled moans left his mouth as he called out your name, begging you to stop the pain. And when he did sleep your eyes stayed fixed on his stomach as you watched it move up and down with each breath. Was you waiting for it to stop, was you afraid it would stop? You couldn't tell anymore. Why did it have to come to this? You thought as you continued to torment yourself with the satisfaction you felt when you first saw him in pain. You loved him, and now you cruelly found yourself having to decide if you loved him enough to continue to comfort and tend to him. Desperate for fresh air you stood up walking over to the window as you knocked over a chair with Tommy's clothes laying on top of it. "Shit" you mouthed to yourself, worried the sudden noise would wake him as you bent down to pick up his suit jacket when a small photo folded in half caught your eye. Turning it over you opened it to see a picture of you and Tommy taken before the war. It was old and battered, the edges torn and frailing, it looked like it had been through a war itself.

"You kept me alive" Tommy said coughing as he slowly turned his head to you.

" You've had this in your pocket all these years?"

" I took it to France" he replied as you walked over to sit beside him. Reaching out Tommy took the picture from you, rubbing his thumb over it as if he had done it a thousand times already, the movement engraved into his memory, a ritual he had repeated countless times before. Handing it back to you Tommy began to cough uncontrollably as you quickly reached for the the glass of water beside him, tenderly holding his cheek as you poured small amounts into his mouth.

"When I was in France" he started to say as he cleared his throat the swelling engulfing his body making it hard for him to talk. " I'd stare at that picture every night and take myself back to watery lane, back to you. It was the only thing that stopped me from running over the line. I've always loved you Y/N, I never stopped"

" And yet you killed for me in the name of love Tommy, killings that never needed to happen. Is that true love to you?"

" Your horse was lame darling"

" And my friend...was that a mercy too?"

A silence fell upon the room, Tommy had nothing to say. A battle within himself to make things right fought with his own reasoning that what he had done was justified. Had he suddenly begun to feel guilt in everything he had done? Maybe the unexpected feeling of deaths eyes bearing down on him had finally made him face his own monstrous actions.

" There's no going back to the start is there?" Tommy said as he weakly looked up into your eyes. Shaking your head tears fell down your cheeks as Tommy brought his hand up to brush them away with his thumb. Holding onto your hand Tommy swallowed harshly as his emotions threatened to spill over.

" Please, don't let go " he said gripping your hand tighter, his eyes closing once again as he drifted back to sleep. With tears burning your cheeks you reached out your hand as you gently caressed his face. Months of torment had come to an end, and for the first time in a long time you finally saw a small glimpse of the boy you used to know, the sweet loving boy you fell head over heels for. You could only hope it wasn't the fever talking and Tommy's remorse was as genuine as he had made you believe it was. As the hours passed by exhaustion started to take over. Closing your eyes you rested your head on your husband's stomach as the gentle lull of his body moving up and down with each breath he took rocked you soundly to sleep.

"You're still here" Tommy said as he woke up to you holding onto his hand hours later, your head still resting on his stomach. Bringing the back of your hand to his forehead you checked to see if his fever had passed.

" It's slowing down" you sighed, surprised by the sense of relief washing over you.

" You saved my life again" he replied sitting up, grunting at the continued pain stabbing him in his chest.

" I didn't do anything Tommy"

" You did Y/N, you kept me alive" he said as he leaned forward cupping your cheek in his hand. " Give me one more chance? He's not dead, the boy you once knew is still in there, help me find him"

" Tommy, everything you've done I can't forgive you for it. You've broken my heart so many times"

" I don't expect you to forgive me Y/N. I've lost who I was. I've done unspeakable things, but you, you can make me a better man. Please, just one more chance" he replied. His body having given him another breath of life he was now desperate for one more with you. Looking away your eyes flickered down to the photo of you both on top of the bed side cabinet that Tommy had kept in his pocket for the past decade. Your heart ached endlessly for the man you had first fell in love with all those years ago, stronger than any feeling you had ever known. The need to feel his arms wrapped around you, his warm body comforting you never left. He had a hold on you as much as you did with him. Was you as addicted to him as he was with you? His acts were evil, and there was no taking back what he had done, but even the worst of men could change couldn't they? Reaching up you rested your hand over Tommy's as he looked lovingly back into your eyes.

" Ok" you said nodding your head as tears fell down your cheeks. " Ok Tommy" smiling, Tommy leaned forward wincing in pain as he rested his forehead against yours.

" I'll be the man you want me to be" he said pressing his lips to your own in a tender embrace as your tears cascaded down between your cheeks.

Pulling back you was met with his piercing blue eyes staring back at you, a small smile on his lips as his thumb stroked firmly across your cheek. An all too familiar feeling suddenly settled in your stomach in response to his forceful touch as paranoia quickly rose within you.

Had he fooled you again?

NEXT PART

Tag list: @litteltourtius @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy @gypsy-girl-08 @missbeeentertainment @cryptidscool (unable to tag) @warrior-of-justice @runnning-outof-time @camilleholland89 @amberpanda99 @scarwxrld @pleasant-meadow @fleurfatale89 (unable to tag)

[quitealotofsodapop]

Tripitaka is about to get a crash course in cat instincts. Warm sunny spots are his, he’s lightly pushing someone out of their spot. The pilgrims excluding Wukong found out about the catnip the hard way. Cute thought him just batting at Wukong’s tail like a kitten

Wait does Wukong have an egg during this au or separate from that?

Prev.

me and @soniclozdplove have been goofing with his au a bit in the dms.

Might instead rename the au to the "Tiger Monk" au - Tripitaka accidentally gaining his own demonic nickname over the course of the story.

Tripitaka is completely in the dark instinct-wise. He's not a born demon, heck I wouldn't be surprised if his only contact with cats were fat shrine cats without a hunting bone in their body.

He absolutely shrieks the first time he sees something that looks even vaguely like a snake, prompting the Pilgrims to freak out too for a moment before Wukong turns the "snake" over to reveal it to be just a plantain leaf.

Tripitaka panics the first time he subconsciously marks a tree with his claws (tigers do so to identify territory boundaries), only to get carried away and turn it into a scratching post.

Wukong and Ao Lie quickly discover that their Master gets distracted by swaying/twitching tails, and will go full kitten-mode to play with them. It's good fight practice.

Him and Wukong come to a mutual teaching/learning agreement; Wukong will help his master learn the ways of demons and how to protect himself from harm, and Tripitaka will teach his disciple means of curbing his more violent and impulsive actions.

Like how many demons, living a dangerous existence in the wild where humans and wildlife alike want you dead, tend to say "Hi" through fighting.

Tripitaka balks at the idea, but accidentally makes his first progress by lightly bapping the Gold and Silver twins on their backs when they try kidnapping him. The twins guffaw and mock his lack-of strength, but pointedly untie him and start a normal conversation with the Pilgrims.

See the problem is; demons tend to have non-humanoid forms and silhouettes. They need to prove to the other party that "Hey! I'm not dinner! I'm like you!" and the easiest way is to throw a punch. It's like if you were a deer hunter and everyone wore antlers on their heads.

And Tripitaka is now a type of demon that responds to surprise, or even excitement, with smacking their paws on their target.

Macaque's anger towards the Monk is a little lessened, since he sees that Tripitaka himself is victim of divine punishment, rather than the sole instigator. Laughs his ass off to see this tiger demon practically swimming in a cassock meant for a human, and offers help with the demonic etiquette part of Tripitaka's training.

Meanwhile with Azure "The Dud" Lion;

He still has no rizz. This tomcat getting smacked by eight (Macaque and Yellow Tusk tagged in) different hands whenever he tries flirting with the Buddha's Boy Scout. Also he still has unresolved feelings for Wukong, so his cat-brain isn't firing on all cylinders.

Tripitaka: "I never want to deal with another male cat demon again after that adventure!" The Tiger Power Priest: "Hello my dear Tiger Monk~" Tawny Lion Demon Clan: "We saw him first!" Leopard King of the Southern Hill: "No I saw him first!" The Pilgrims + Macaque: "NONE OF YOU SAW HIM FIRST!!"

The Queen Mother herself gets involved after she peaks down and nearly mistakes Tripitaka for one of her daughters. She thinks of the Human-turned-Tiger as adorable as a cub getting used to their legs. She gives him great advice on their species behaviours, and warns him of further suiting attempts.

Wukong doesn't have an Egg in this Au, but something hilarious probably occurs during the Kingdom of Women chapter;

Wukong: "Master! Me and Wujing managed to get the Spring Water Cure for you and Brother Pig!" Tripitaka: "Don't want it." Wukong & Wujing: "HUH!?" Tripitaka: "If the Buddha has blessed me with a sinless child, I do not wish to reject his gift." Bajie, in the bathroom: "A gift my hams!! Your mother cat instincts are going haywire!" Tripitaka: "Even if that is so, some of my more... undesirous instincts have quietened. I prefer to experience this than what I was suppressing before." (*curls up, purring*) Wukong, turns to Wujing: "Well! I guess we're going to have tiger cubs for the rest of the Journey!" Wujing: "Not exactly. I was in Heaven when the Queen Mother was with her final pregnancy. Celestial and demonic animals can carry their young for many years." Wukong, raises brow: "Uh-huh, yeah. Tell me, how many cubs did she have?" Wujing, gets quiet: "...lets consider that after we reach India." Bajie, pokes head out of bathroom: "Where's it gonna come out???" Ao Lie, giggling: "As if that's an issue for demons!"

[captain039]

Part 2 Stains of red

Astarion x omega!reader

Warnings: Vampire things, blood, light gore, witch things, fantasy things, swearing, age gap, heats, smut, shameless flirting, virgin reader, indulging in pleasure xD, pining, jealousy, possessiveness, angst, masturbation

Previous part <-

Astarion was there the next day some strange glint in his eyes as he sat boredly at your table.

“If you are bored, go elsewhere” you stated reading over a book and organising some herbs.

“The villagers are dull” he stated finger on his lips as he watched out the window.

“Did you hear someone died?” He asked and you froze looking to him.

“No, gods, another one? who was it? What happened?” You asked attention on him as he seemed unfazed. He smelt awfully fresh also, clean water and soap, a little too clean.

“Butchers boy, I don’t know his name” he shrugged and you frowned.

“He was here yesterday” you stated.

“Was that him?” He questioned still overly unfazed and you frowned at him, studying.

“Your witch powers won’t work ok me darling” he grinned standing up and peering at the book you were reading. He stood awfully close and you held your breath, glancing to the puncture scar on his neck. He always tried to cover them up with ruffles and high collars, for some strange reason your own teeth ached. You breathed out and stepped back, shaking your head.

“I’ll head to the village tonight, say my respects” you said brushing off the way your heart pounded.

“You will not” Astarion said too quickly and angrily eyes narrowing.

“It’s just the village I’ve been there plenty of times, it’s not like you’re my father!” You huffed at him hands of your hips.

“It’s the right thing to do” you added going to your room to pick an outfit. You heard Astarion growl and leave making you frown and watch his form disappear in the forest, why was he acting so strange?

Over the last few years members of the village have been found dead, brutally or strangely, the guardian of the dead did not share his input either on such things as he usually did.

Astarion had hung around like a fly, trying to concentrate with him around was hard. You hated how your body would go warm whenever he was near, or your mind would wonder to such dirty thoughts whenever he was close. You were thankful for magic, you blocked your thoughts from anyone and anything that wanted to peak inside, a safe in your mind where all your darkest secrets lied. You began to prepare dinner, the funeral would be tonight no doubt, you were also in need of supplies. Astarion was reading a book by your table, head resting on his hand which leant against the table, you wondered what he was thinking.

“After dinner I’m going to get ready, stay, leave or come with me I do not mind” you stated eating your stew. His face turned in a scowl and he snapped his book shut making you jump slightly b

“I’m hungry anyways” he grumbled and left making you huff at his behaviour.

You headed to the village after eating and getting ready. You headed to the funeral fire and saw the villagers already gathered around. You stayed back a bit listening to the speech the elder gave before the young man’s body was a lit with fire and sent to the gods. You said a small prayer wishing him safe passage to the after life. You headed back to the village, Gerrin was usually open till late anyway. You headed to his shop, ears sharp to the sounds around you. A little too sharp when you heard a moan. You froze and glanced to a dark alleyway, two people were there a woman pressed against the wall and a man against her. You flushed seeing his hand clearly down her skirt, her hips stuttering against his hand. Gods you didn’t mean to stare, but Ruby eyes looked your way with a blood stained mouth. You flushed and quickly darted down to Gerrins shop.

You panted as you slammed the door, leaning against it, unaware of Gerrins odd look.

“You alright?” He asked cocking his head.

“Huh?” You said dumbly cheeks a blaze. Gods why did you wish it was you against the wall. You shook your head furiously going around the shop and picking up what you needed.

“Ten gold” Gerrin said and you handed him ten gold coins and thanked him quietly.

“Goodnight” you nodded your head before leaving in a rush. You glanced down that same street, sighing in relief when you didn’t see them there. You rushed back to your cabin and closed the door a little harshly before sighing. You rested your basket on the table and groaned as you flopped into bed. Between your thighs was hot and slightly wet making you flush and bite the inside of your cheek. You stood, closed your windows and locked them, blew out the candles and stripped before lying on your bed and getting under the covers. You clenched the sheets mind replaying the scene you saw only putting yourself there. Your hand trailed down your stomach and to your cunt, you bit the inside of your cheek as you imagined Astarions slender fingers sliding through your folds, whispering about how wet you were for him. Your back arched slightly as you slowly began to finger your self hearing Astarions voice echo in your mind.

‘Such a pretty thing’ he’d whisper in your ear, gently kissing down your neck. You added a second and sighed continuing the scene.

‘I wouldn’t want to hurt you sweetheart, relax for me’ you whined softly pressing your thumb to your clit and slowly rubbing.

‘You can do it’ his voice whispers in your mind.

“Come for me’ it added as you quickened your pace and felt your stomach coil and release. You moaned quietly and panted as you felt yourself orgasm fingers still slowly moving before you pulled them out. You were in a slight bliss before reality came back, your cheeks on fire again as you stood and grabbed your gown on shaky legs. You washed your hands and sat at the table suddenly guilty about what you had done. Unaware of who lied in the forest.

Next part ->

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 3: The Lucky Day

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of an eating disorder and depression, please read with caution as topics may be triggering.

a/n: Alexa, play Daddy's Home <3 Anywho, OC's spiralling summer was inspired by Bella's montage of passing seasons in Twilight ... I'm sorry, but I need to preface that OC will be going through it this whole season, I have already cried thrice. Also, a side question, can you guys actually play the songs I post for these chapters? Meaning, does Tumblr let yall do that or am I trippin? Because I truly think they add a lot to the overall experience. If not, please let me know, then maybe I'll just turn them into a Spotify playlist.

Sleep has become my escape. A temporary withdrawal from reality in which I live to remember everything Jungkook has forgotten. Sleeping through each passing day, I know that at least in my dreams we are still together. In my dreams, I will always find my way back to you, Koo. Even if you don’t remember it, the moon knows that we were once in love. It hears my helpless cries at night and feels every atom of my being that misses you, fearing the idea of us becoming strangers once again. 

It’s as if my happiness was erased with his departure. Holding my hand through each step of the way, he showed me the beauty in life and ended up being the one to take it all away when my fearing heart failed to reciprocate the painfully obvious love tethered between us. Now, my life is dull and pointless. How can I love someone else when every night I dream of you, Koo?

Swallowing pills to mute the sound of my heart beating for his barest touch, I’ve become lost in my own mind, haunted by everlasting thoughts. Although I thought I would be able to at least pretend to be happy for the sake of my family, it’s all become too much. Thus, it was only a matter of days, before my deteriorating behaviour sparked concern in my parents, fueling tension in the air we shared. It all started with fatigue, which then transformed into chronic sleep and in the end began to affect my eating habits. Feeling nauseous from the mere thought of food, I’ve grown to dissociate myself from it. I was hungry, but I couldn’t eat. And, as my hope slowly diminished, so did the number on the scale. 

“Mira, you have to eat,” my mom’s voice echoes in my ear as my eyes fixate on the plate of steamed broccoli in front of me. 

“I’m not hungry, I told you,” I sigh, swallowing down the lie with some water. 

“Mira, honey, please talk to us. What’s wrong?” my dad asks softly, placing his hand on top of mine. Hearing the trembles in his words, my eyes swell with tears before I shake myself out of it.

“I’m fine … just feeling a bit under the weather,”

“The sun has been at its highest peak this whole time, what’s seasonal about this?” my mom tries to remain composed as she shifts her chair closer to mine. 

“Talk to me, honey. What’s gotten into you? You were so excited to come back,” her hands caress my tangled hair as I nibble on the dead skin on my lip. 

“Mira, you’ve been silent since you came, and now you won’t even eat. Your mom and I can’t bear to see you like this,” 

“Come back home, Miraya. We can find another university here,”

“No. It’s not that. I’m fine, I swear. I just … I just need this break to end already, so I can focus on my studies again. That’ll keep my mind occupied,” I whisper softly, attempting to fake a smile as my empty gaze searches their scattering eyes. Recently, that's how most of our conversations ended. With helpless promises feeding my delusions. However, with each passing day, I come to realise that promises are nothing more than sweet lies. If it weren’t true, I wouldn’t have to find excuses for the aching feeling in my heart, but rather, melt in the overflowing passion of Jungkook’s burning love. 

Excusing myself, I throw away the cold plate of food and head back to my room, one which was once filled with laughter and a carefree sense of ambition. The same walls that watched me cry out of happiness upon receiving my acceptance letter just a few months ago are the ones that now echo my pathetic cries for help. Every inch of this room has become cold and numb, and I’m afraid that there is no more warmth in me that could fix this. 

Crouched in a fetal position as my body shivers under the floral duvet my mom gifted me as a welcome present, I dial Jimin’s phone number. It has been weeks since he moved back to Busan, but I have yet to receive any updates from him about Jungkook. In hindsight, maybe, it’s for the best, but if silence is the thing that'll save me then why do I still hold onto the smallest glimpse of hope for us? Even if it means walking across a minefield of rejected possibilities that would ultimately send me into a never-ending spiral, why do I still care?

“How is he?” I ask with hesitation. 

“Different. He’s different.” Jimin replies softly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, he seems distant. Which is fair, I guess. But, he doesn’t quite seem to remember me,” 

“At all?” my voice shakes as I choke up. 

“Well no, he is still able to recover our memories from when we were kids, but recent events are very blurry,” Jimin goes on. 

I, was recent to Jungkook. We, were recent to him. Four months, that's how long I've known Koo, but I’ve been missing him for the last seven. Each day I daydream, reminiscing our memories, feeling the void in my heart knowing that I’ve been without him longer than I’ve been with him. Maybe, Mrs. Jeon was right. I would be lying if I said that a little part of me didn’t think that the reason for her ultimatum was purely based on a simple dislike of me. You know? Like, she didn’t see me as a good match for her son? Because, even then, her disapproval of my character would have been an easier pill to swallow than knowing that now, in Koo’s empty eyes, I’m no longer his Peaches, but a stranger. God, it hurts to even say it out loud let alone accept it. I can’t accept it, but I have to now, don’t I?

“Please take care of him for me Jiminah,” I manage to let out, wiping the tears rolling down my face. 

“I will Mira, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

“See you,” I end the call, throwing my phone across the bed, my puffy eyes irritated by the brightness. 

That night was especially hard. Although my body was desperately wanting to succumb to the exhaustion, my mind wouldn't shut up. It kept replaying our memories, reminding me of the things I should have said. The words Koo never heard, but deserved to.

--

Hugging my mom, her trembling hands tighten their hold on my sweater as I take in the smell of her perfume for the last time. I missed her a lot, and the guilt of putting my parents through that torture has been eating me alive this whole summer. All they wanted was to see their daughter smile and I failed to fulfill even the simplest of their wishes. If only they knew how much I wanted to smile again. 

“Mira, I’m telling you again, we can find another university here,” my mom says with teary eyes. 

“Just say yes, and we’ll deal with all the transfer stuff, honey,” my dad joins, caressing my palms, as I let out a soft chuckle before shaking my head no. 

“That’s not fair. You guys didn’t raise a quitter,” I manage to let out, feeling my throat tighten from the build-up of emotions. 

“You’re right, we didn’t. But, even the strongest soldier needs a shoulder to cry on. Remember that we are and always will be by your side, Miraya,”

“Call us as soon as you land, love,” 

Passing through the airport security, I wave to my family my last goodbyes before heading to my gate. Am I excited to come back to Seoul? I don’t really have a choice, do I? That God-awful Nursing degree won’t finish itself, so yeah, I kind of have to go back. But, I know that school isn’t the only thing pulling me back. I know I can’t, but I still wish to see Jungkook, even from afar, it doesn’t matter. All I want now is to know that he is doing well.  

I’m not sure how, but as soon as my head rested against the seat my body shut down, falling into a much-needed sleep. I probably would have slept through the whole 12-hour flight if it weren’t for the bright beams of sunlight penetrating through my heavy eyelids. Taking a glimpse out the airplane window, I no longer saw snowy mountains but rather blossoming fields of greenery scattered within the busy cities of Korea. And, as the captain went through his ending speech, a flood of international students lined up near the exit, eager to get back into their previously established routine. It’s funny because I was sitting next to one of my cohort members from last semester, but we were both too tired to even realise. 

Nonetheless, putting my passport and ticket back into my carry on, I rolled my luggage down the escalator before a familiar voice called out my name. Searching the crowd of strangers filled with overwhelmed emotions, my eyes stop at a particular boxy smile. 

“Long time no see, Flip-flops!” Tae shouted across the hall, before waving me down to where he was standing with Jiah and Jimin who were just as excited about my arrival. Feeling my eyes swell with tears, I couldn’t help but laugh at his cute, little dance as he pulled me into a warm hug. 

“Tae, I’m certain you just don’t know my actual name,” I say with a grin, looking up at his sparkling eyes. 

“Of course, I do MJ,” he grins, rubbing the top of my head. Ha ha ha, isn’t he just a comedian? For context, my government name is Mira Jean … hence, the birth of MJ. 

“That’s enough, let us hug her too,” Jiah chuckles, opening her arms as my body virtually melts into her embrace. With tears rolling down our faces, her grip tightens around my form as she lets out a sudden gasp. 

“Mira! My goodness, why are you so small?” she asks with a concerned tone, her wide eyes scanning my body. Although, I always managed to maintain my normal weight, I guess, not eating properly for 3 months left its mark on the way I looked. As the numbers on the scale decreased, I became more and more fixated on the protrusion of my bones. I hated the feeling, but, I also couldn’t stop. Because I couldn’t get myself to eat, I relied on baggy clothes to create an illusion that would satisfy people’s perception of me. Unfortunately, I failed to fool Jiah as she saw right through the act. 

“I just stopped eating so much junk food, I’m fine. Trust me, this is a good thing Jiah, now I can finally fit into my favourite pair of jeans,” I try to laugh the pain away, caressing her hands as her furrowed eyebrows slowly release their tension. She isn’t convinced but also, doesn’t want to create a scene in public. I know that follow-up questions will be brought up along the way, but for now, my attention is focused on looking for someone who I know isn’t there. It’s silly, but before spotting Tae, a little part of me hoped to see Jungkook. To witness his sparkling doe eyes and bunny teeth, once again, like the good old times.  

“Okay, it’s settled, we are all going to my favourite Korean BBQ place,” Jimin exclaims, giving me a quick wink before grabbing both of the luggage out of my hands, and handing one to Tae. And, as Jiah intertwines her hands with mine, we exchange soft smiles exiting the airport as my skin finally feels the fresh, humid air of Seoul. Stopping mid-walk, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I hated every second of my summer, it was nothing short of pure torture but, at least, it too passed. 

“You’re good?” Tae whispers, softened gaze focused on my flushed cheeks. 

“Yeah,” I say softly, taking another deep breath as his arm caresses my shoulder. 

“He’s fine, Mira,” his words pierce through my ears as I unconsciously shoot him an alarming look. 

“You’ve heard from him?” I rush my words, anticipating his answer as my chest heaves up. 

“No, but I can feel your pain,” his tone is quieter now, eyes still searching mine. 

“I’m fine, Tae,” I mumble under my breath, lowering my head in fear of breaking down in front of them. 

“Just know that I’m always here for you, okay?” he says, pressing a soft kiss on my head before wrapping his arm around my shoulders. If only he could hear the way I’m screaming inside. The way I’m calling out for help. For someone to find hope in my hopeless state of mind. If only he knew how much I miss Jungkook. 

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Following the tradition, I will be hosting my annual house party before school beats all of our asses,” Jimin chuckles, caressing Jiah’s hand as their eyes focus on each other. Forcing down some dumpling soup into my system, I feel nauseous, but can’t risk growing Jiah's suspicion more, so I attempt to eat as little as possible without her noticing. 

“So, Mira, please come. Jungkook will be there as well,” Jimin continues with a soft smile which slowly fades upon noticing my gaze drop. Letting go of my spoon, my fingernails dig into my cold palms, as I’m back at square one. How am I supposed to face him when I can’t even handle the mere mention of his name? It’s not fair. None of them know about Mrs. Jeon’s ultimatum, and I fear that I can’t just simply tell them. So, I gulp down the pain and manage to put on another act, one that I seem to have mastered over the summer. 

“Mira, you’re okay?” Jiah asks, gently rubbing my forearm. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit jet-lagged. Sure, of course, I’ll come,” I reply with a reassuring smile, before looking at Tae. I recognize the sadness in his eyes because I see it in my own every passing minute. But, I can’t let him in. I can’t betray Mrs. Jeon’s trust, again. Even if it means that I have to betray my own heart.

--

We’ve been walking around the mall for probably 3 hours now and Jiah has yet to find something with that wow factor, meanwhile, I have already found 4 of the nearest exits. The party is set for tonight, and although I have already agreed to come, I can’t get myself to actually face the consequences. I can’t go, what was I thinking. What? Did I think everything was going to be fine once Jungkook saw me? Mira, he doesn’t remember you. 

“Jiah, you know, I really don’t think I should go tonight?” I say, slowly walking in circles as she eyes another mini dress. 

“What? Why?” she stutters, going through racks of possible options. 

“I’m just not feeling well,” I lie, fiddling with my fingers to calm down the nerves. 

“Mira, is something wrong?” Jiah stops what she’s doing before walking closer to my anxious self. 

“I’m fine, really,” I lie again. 

“You don’t look fine. You barely eat, barely sleep, barely talk to me,” she exclaims with a  tone firmer than before. 

“Then stop looking. Please, can everyone just leave me alone? I’m just tired, okay?” I burst, feeling everyone’s eyes on my distressed self. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. What do you need?” she says gently, reaching out her hands.  

“I just need space,” I whisper, crossing my arms in front of my burning chest. 

“Fine, I’ll give you some space. Please call me when you’re ready,” Jiah’s words cut deep as she walked out of the store, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The ones I’ve been trying to run away from this whole time. I can’t even get mad at her. She is only trying to help, but how can she when I keep shutting everyone out? It’s all my fault, I know. I just hope that this isn’t how it ends. I hope I don’t push everyone away, and someone sees right through the mask I put on. Because I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.

Locking the door behind me I plop onto my bed before finally resting my heavy eyes. And, within minutes, I’m passed out again. I think, I've grown to become eternally tired, no matter how much I sleep, there is just no end to this fatigue. Moving restlessly, I pull the white cover over my shivering body before hearing my phone ring. 

“Ugh, what is it now?” I grunt, squinting from the screen brightness as a small gasp escapes my parted lips. It was 8 pm already. How is that possible? I swear, I just laid my head. But, no, apparently I’ve been asleep for the last 5 hours. 

“Hello?” I manage to let out. 

“Flip-flops? Where are you?” Tae screams through the loud music in the background. 

“Tae, I’m home. What happened?” 

“Mira hurry, Jiah is drunk. You need to come pick her up,” he exclaims with panic in his voice. 

“What? Where’s Jimin? Can he not drive her?” I stutter, lifting myself off of the bed before putting my hoodie back on. 

“You want him to drive under the influence? Of course, he is drunk too,” 

“Well, why can’t you drive them?” I whine, almost pleading. 

“Who said I wasn’t drunk either?” he chuckles, sending me a flying kiss through the phone. 

“Fine, I’ll be there in a bit. Keep an eye on Jiah,” I sigh before grabbing my keys and ID. 

Thankfully, Jimin’s place wasn’t that far from our dormitory so, the ride there was only 10-ish minutes. Nonetheless, I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. And, as the driver finally pulled up to the apartment complex I practically ran inside. Following the sound of loud music, I made my way through the crowd of people who clearly had a little too much fun, as the alcohol in their system could be detected from the next block. 

“Flip-flops!” Tae exclaimed with a big grin. Stopping in my tracks, my eyes diverted to Jiah, who was standing beside him with absolutely no sign of a hangover. In fact, she looked better than ever in her new mini-dress. 

“What? You lied?” I snap, eyebrows furrowing more and more with each step I take towards them. 

“How else was I supposed to get you to come?” Tae chuckles, trying to rub my head before I push his hand away. 

“Get off me,” my tone is harsh as I lower my piercing gaze, shaking my head in disbelief. 

“Oh! Mira, there you are,” I could hear Jimin’s voice getting closer before turning my flushed face. And with that, it felt like time stopped altogether. There was nothing and no one in the room except for him and I. Koo and I. Feeling my gaze soften, I choke up from the rush of emotions in my throat. 

“Hi, I’m Jungkook. It’s nice to meet you,” he says with a warm smile, reaching out his hand as if meeting me for the first time. Before replying, I take a moment to analyze his face. The one I dreamed about every night and the one that caused me so much pain. He looks the same, except, his eyes no longer sparkle like they used to. I guess, we got that in common. 

“Hi …I’m Mira,” I let out a soft smile, before reaching out my own hand. 

“Yah, Kook, you already know her, you guys were best friends,” Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkook’s back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, please forgive me. I'm still trying to piece everything back together,” Koo says, covering his mouth before shutting his eyes from embarrassment. 

Feeling my throat tighten, I quickly excuse myself, before rushing out of the packed room towards the nearest fire escape. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but why does it feel like I’m going to pass out? It’s as if all the air was knocked out of my lungs. Feeling lightheaded I hold onto the railing and close my eyes for a moment. I can’t believe it. Koo, I saw you but you didn’t see me. You saw a stranger. And, suddenly, there I was, alone again, realizing that everything I feared had come true.

Regaining my composure, I decide to walk back to the party before my eyes are met with his. 

“Not a party animal, huh?” Jungkook grins, stopping in his tracks as his arm leans against the wall. 

“It’s my day off,” I let out a small chuckle, unable to keep his eye contact. 

“So … we were best friends?” he asks softly, hands fidgeting with the chains on his belt. 

“Yeah …” I nod slightly, nibbling on my lips. 

“It’s funny because I don’t remember anything from last year. I could barely recognize my own dad for a while. Jimin helped me a lot, he basically recalled sparknotes of my past for me,” he laughs. Oh, how I missed his laugh.  

“You really don’t remember anything?” I finally look up, searching his scattering eyes. 

“No, not one bit,” his muffled words are interrupted by the growling sound coming from my stomach, as I let out an awkward smile. 

“Oh, are you hungry?” he grins, bunny teeth on full display, as my gaze softens again. 

“No, no, no, I’m fine. I think I’m gonna head home now,” I shake my hands, zipping my hoodie before attempting to walk past him. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll drive. I’m starving as well,” Jungkook assures, gently pulling onto the fabric as my heart sinks to my feet.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I agreed. I couldn’t say no to Koo. Not, after all the sleepless nights I’ve spent missing his mere presence. And, as we entered the nearest restaurant, everything felt real. He felt real. Even if he couldn’t feel it, my heart was beating for the both of us. For our first hellos, last goodbyes and everything in between. Just for tonight, I wanted to pretend like nothing happened. 

“Oh, look, Mira, they have a special deal on shrimp dumplings, do you like them?” his voice, brings me back to reality as I mute the thoughts running through my head. 

“Yeah, my mom made them for me all the time when I was little,” I smile. 

“Then, I guess it’s your lucky day,” he chuckles with a satisfied grin, before calling one of the waiters. 

“I guess, it is,” I say softly, feeling my throat tighten as I struggle to swallow the lie. Searching his naive eyes my own swell with tears while my body shifts restlessly in the seat. Desperately wanting to cave into the emotions, my mind is haunted by the thoughts of Mrs. Jeon’s letter. And, as I close my eyes for a moment, all I can see are the painful reminders of our enforced distance. Don’t call … Don’t write … Don’t interact. Yet, here we are, here you are, Koo. Live in the flesh, separated by a table and the forgotten story of our past. So close, yet so far that it physically hurts. To him, I’m just another piece of the puzzle that would fill the void in his memories. But, to me, he is the only piece that could make me whole again. 

Previous l Index l Next

[darlingpwease]

Now that I’m thinking about it.

How is Shen jiu like with reader.

And if we were Luo bingge “Moral pet” who died, what would he do if he met us in another universe where we are alive?

everyone needs an owner

♡ unhealthy behaviour, mention of tortures, mention of death, mention of killing, forced relationship if you squint; 'shixiong' for reader

I used 'morality pet', but you are rather closer to 'morality chain', especially if you stay after LUO BINGHE returns from the Abyss and you are literally the only thing that keeps him sane and trying to be a good person, even if he is a half-demon, — only to find out with shock and horror that you are dead.

this is definitely what is the final trigger for his darkening and first the brutal torture and murder of all who caused your death — and then the complete rejection of any 'humanity'which he could have had. the only one who loved him and cared about him — and only that he didn't even have your body?

only for him to come back and find out that the love of his life is dead?

then what's the point of being 'good' if he can't even deal with those who led you to death?

all those who could not save you deserve only death.

... if Shen Qingqiu hadn't thrown him into the Abyss, you would have lived. he would have saved you. he would sacrifice his reputation, his cultivation, his life, but he would save you. you would be alive. you would be with him.

If he had stayed, you would never have left him.

you were always worried that LUO BINGHE felt inferior when Shen Qingqiu was strangely favoritist towards you, — even if he asked you no less, — but LUO BINGHE never considered it 'strange' or unfair. as long as you let him wander after you, always petted, brought food, gently asking what he wants to do and always hugging him tightly, letting him know that you will always be there and are sure that he will become a great cultivator and person, he didn't dare complain about anything. he liked to take care of you and please you like your servant, and always tried to be there, blooming like a flower after he was given water when your gaze touched him.

even if Shen Qingqiu took up too much of your time, as if not realizing that you were not a river, but his source, he could only bare his fangs and growl, but retreat, allowing everything to happen, having nothing to the extent to hinder, even if your smile, which would only be for him, would be enough for him to give his life for you with pleasure.

you were everything he could never have been, even if he tried; his everything. nobody else's. it doesn't matter 'what kind of relationship you have with Shizun', especially when various rumors begin to creep — LUO BINGHE wants to dig into everyone's throat with his fangs and tear them apart, but Shen Qingqiu copes with especially talkative much faster and easier when there are fewer and fewer of them at the peak.

at least in some ways their interests are similar.

he kills him much faster, even without torture, although he could have torn out his hands, gouged out his eyes and cut out his tongue — but for the first time in his heart, cold mixes with flame, giving his, no, your former Shizun a peaceful death. his heart beats neither faster nor slower when Shen Qingqiu dies before his eyes, even if something inside him should feel relief at the thought that his abuser is dead — but what's the point if you, his most important person, don't come to life?

LUO BINGHE would kill everyone if it revived you, he would make the whole world speak the language of blades — but what's the point if you're not with him?

... his demonic nature, fed by cold calculating hatred and a passionate thirst for what he cannot get, turns out to be much easier to tame than he thought — 'shidi, you will become a great cultivator' he fulfilled your words, right? — especially when Xin Mo lies as if poured into his palm, having found the perfect balance between two facets, where your image still remains the most painful and the most joyful in his life, even if you have always sought to be an example for him and a support, finding something in the brilliance of his eyes and a statuesque figure, always descending to reach out to him like no one before, like a phoenix that soared into the sky only to land on his shoulder, or a dragon floating in the water column, but swimming aground for him.

how could he not adore you?

his fate was sealed from the first meeting.

Xin Mo responds with a vibration when Luo Binghe touches it.

... you are so magnificent — in the form of a disciple of the peak, which LUO BINGHE himself destroyed in the past; with your hair in a hairstyle that he always wanted to let down and see how you look when relaxed; with a light gait, characteristic of each member of the peak, known for its silence and the absence of any sounds at all except those places that were fenced with a barrier like training grounds, and your beautiful subtle smile that he always saw on your face, even if you weren't smiling. everything about you was breathtaking and filled with grace and grandeur, even if you were just walking or eating; after all, it was not for nothing that you walked all the way with him, and would definitely have reached the very end if he had protected you. he will definitely protect you.

Xin Mo in his hand is thirsty for blood, feeling what the person he so desperately craves is so close and far away, so tantalizingly far away that LUO BINGHE has to dig his nails into his skin so as not to pounce and take you with him, seeing you sitting alone in a bamboo forest, enjoying moments of peace, without suspecting anything.

LUO BINGHE has nothing to do — what can he do? grab you? convince you to leave? what does he want to do? you... you were always there for him at such moments when he was thinking about such things, feeling how you tried to help him understand his desires — and even after you died, he always touched your little thing with him, as if looking for an answer from you, leaving the feeling that you are still here, with him.

“... Shidi?”

The old form is unusual for the body, even reduced, and his attempt to hide the demonic mark is also silly in its own way — but he cannot hide the sweet smile that breaks through the shy expression of his face, although his eyes burn with adoration.

“Yes, my shixiong? Did my shixiong call this shidi? Can this shidi help my shixiong?”

Killing the current LUO BINGHE is easier than simple — as well as taking his place, approaching you with timid but hungry steps, as if not a 'little naive lamb', but a stalking predator who is just waiting for the opportunity when you relax enough to grab your throat with his teeth. Even if you don't see the difference, you feel it, looking at his happy rosy face, delicate thin strong figure, the shine of adoring eyes and a slight tremor that LUO BINGHE tries to hide as he comes closer, as if trying to control himself.

“My shixiong... yo– this shidi... can?”

The excitement in his voice is both so familiar and unfamiliar that you just shake your head, pointing to a place nearby.

“Just sit next to me. Get some rest. You've been working a lot lately.”

You've noticed that he's been working a lot lately.

A tremor runs through his body so large that he can only nod thoughtlessly, sitting closer, letting a few more drops fall to the ground.

Now he is much, many times stronger than you and even Shizun, but when you caress him for a good job, he wants to reveal himself so much and beg you to go with him, even if he knows that he can't.

Can he get a 'good boy' from you if he behaves ethically manipulative enough?

You're alive. You are healthy. He hears your breathing, your movements.

He wants to kiss you so badly.

He even feels the warmth of your body, your smell, the way your blood circulates in your body.

He wants so badly to mix your blood with his.

And the way your chest rises while you sit in silence.

You are so perfect. You don't need anyone but him.

He's finally going to be a good person. Just for you.

You are the only thing that matters.

He won't give you up to anyone or anything.

“My shixiong... would you like to have some tea?”

[acapelladitty]

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.

[raayllum]

Anyway said I wanted to talk about TDP's stage motif so here I am

The stage motif refers to well, references to the stage/theatre in terms of framing, word choice, and general dramatics. It isn't employed often, and I first noticed it upon reading the S2 novelization, in which the text states:

Callum was on a stage, but there was no one in the audience. This bed of keys was a horrible resting place. Sharp pieces of metal poked into Callum’s back. […] He heard an irritating buzz somewhere beneath him. Callum turned the cube frantically to see which primal was glowing. How could any of the primals glow in this dark place?  Something about this cube tied his stomach in knots. It wasn’t natural. A vision flickered in front of his face. Dozens of dead animals in a field. A dead butterfly. A dead deer. A dead unicorn. Cackling laughter. He chucked the cube away from him with all his might. The glowing rune was dark magic. It represented death.

This of course makes sense. Callum's dark magic dreams with a spotlight focused heavily on him easily invoke the visuals of a lone performer on a stage - often there to declare monologues that reveal a character's internal thoughts, feelings, and particularly struggles - much the way the literal visual dive into Callum's brain shows us his thought process in figuratively imaginative language (sort of like poetry).

And in many ways, Aaravos' possession scene in 4x04 is also a monologue (and performance) with even a bow to close the 'scene' out. He even sort of assigns everyone their role - a few lines to define each character before the play begins, the way a director may hand out script information in the casting process. This is also where the stage motif begins to overlap with the game motif; you can play a game, yes, but you can also play a role. Play your part.

Puppets are, after all, inherently performance pieces.

4x04 also complicates this further by tying it to both Rayla's goodbye letter and Viren's speech to Terry:

They said that, sometimes, we make sacrifices so that the ones we love don’t have to. It’s part of protecting them—part of protecting you. Taking on hard choices and going to dark places is an act of love. It’s a gift.

I have always been ready to do anything to protect my family, however dangerous, however vile. In the name of love, you may perform acts so unforgivable... you will never forgive yourself.

With the stage motif coming back in loop with Viren's dream sequences in S5 as well. While his nightmare in the throne room has curtains mostly for the Twin Peaks reference, it still invokes a feeling of performance and insanity that has to be discarded, much the same way Viren has to dismantle his lies (that everything he did was for his family > himself / that he had no choice but to do the things he's done, i.e. "every step" was not because he had to) as we see the spotlight come again. (Fun fact: Viren's is the only one thus far to change from white to red to white again.)

And Finnegrin also brings up aspects/implications of performance in 5x08 as well:

The chains are an illusion. A performance, a ruse, a show. The real thing that keeps everyone in line - under Finnegrin's control - is fear (for themselves, assumedly). Callum tried to assert otherwise, that love and connection are the decided opposite of control:

and Finnegrin called that out as a performance, too, along with his behaviour towards Rayla that proved that love and the desire to protect can also be what controls you.

All that talk about how love makes you stronger, but the second you see that elf girl in pain, you completely lost yourself [it makes you weak].

Lurking underneath the performance is the truth in what makes people tick - their fears, their loyalties, their instincts. And it's these that Aaravos preys upon. It's why he believes they'll fulfil their roles per his predictions. They're his puppets, his performers.

His instruments

for

And well, the show must go on.

[t4twnyclaw]

DOTC rough rewrite ideas v v v

One-Eye's group and Slash's group exist from the beginning. They're the first cats in the forest, and are introduced early on.

^ Also a BUNCH of these random cats are kitty pets so they get funny names. I don't know why in canon every cat has a nature-inspired names (Alder, Fox, Juniper, Beech etc..) ur telling me NO ONE was once a kittypet?

Bright Stream stays home. It isn't until Jagged Peak goes missing that she *and* Grey Wing go look for him, resulting in the three of them joining the travelling tribe group.

Moon Shadow dies. he dies to a hawk/vulture, replacing bright streams death.

The Tribes relationships are clearly stated-- Bright Stream is the sister of Rainswept Flower. Dappled Petal and Turtle Tail are sisters etc...

Bumble and Tom are both barn cats. Specifically barn cats. I do not like the amount of sexism DOTC has, so Tom only exists to be the sire to Turtle Tail and Bumbles kits.

One-eye's group is akin to Thunderclan. Their driving goal is to get rid of the mountain cats.

Slash's group is akin to Bloodclan, as he is more or less just power-hungry. He convinces One-Eyes cats to join him after so many of them get beat up-insisting that they should just run away and come back later.

First book -> The group discovers the forest, and they bump into a few of One-Eye's cats. -> Clear Sky is like 'well. we are not going back to the mountains.' and begins aggravating One-Eyes cats. (One-Eye never meets Clear Sky or the others face to face, just his lackeys.) -> The group *kick* Clear Sky out for his behaviour, Bright Stream, Jagged Peak, Jackdaw's Cry and Hawk Swoop join him. (Jagged Peak is about 6 months old, Jackdaw Cry and Hawk swoop are around 10 months to a year.)

Second book -> It's clear One-Eye's group is dying off, but in reality, alot of the cats are just migrating to Slash's group. -> At this point Thundering Storm is born to Clear Sky and Bright Stream. -> Clear Sky has sheltered some of cats who aren't particularly tied to either group. (Petal, Frost, Fox, Muddy Paws and Mouse Ear.) -> Thundering Storm and Bright Stream leave Clear Sky after an attack from One-Eye's group. They rejoin the others on the moor.

Third book. -> Moor cats are having problems with Slash's group. Also Turtle Tail is here with Bumble! But not really, she's a barn cat now. Her kittens are moor cats. -> Thundering Storm changes her name. she also decides being a woman is epic. -> Bright Stream, supporting her daughter encourages her to explore, which she does. Thunder creates her own mini Thunderclan -> Clear Sky begs the moor cats + Thunder to help beat the hell out of One-Eye. being normal, and not colonizers they say no. Clear Sky, instead beats them up. -> The First battle ensues. Some cats die. Clear Sky still kills Rainswept Flower which enraged Bright Stream as she makes an attempt on his life. -> Clear Sky is forever shunned from the moor cats. -> The rest of the moor cats and Clear Sky's old group members decide to meet up in honour of the dead cats. (Four trees is created)

Fourth book -> River's here. he's cool. -> Sickness. Star Flower just appears offering the cure. no one knows who Star Flower is. -> Clear Sky is all alone until Star Flower comes around. -> Star Flower and some of her friends (she has friends and a personality) join Clear Sky's group. -> Through Clear Sky we learn that One-Eye's old group has merged into a cruel dangerous group - Slash's group. -> Moor and Thunder's group don't care. -> River mentions Slash's group. Everyone cares now. -> Slash's group attacks and seriously maims bright stream- actually killing her. -> Thunder and friends goes to politely ask Slash not to kill them. -> Slash says no. -> We meet Violet and everyone else I forgot to mention.

Fifth book -> Star Flower goes alone to speak with Slash. they keep her hostage, Hollyleaf/Ivypool/Twigbranch style. -> Clear Sky begs for help. -> Everyone says no at first because they hate Clear Sky, but Star Flower's cool, so they plan a rescue plan. -> Star Flower escapes. -> Slash's group is starting to crumble as there's no sense of unity or community, which is something One-Eyes group actually had. -> After Star Flower is rescued, Slash, and his group, attacks and kills one of Wind Runners kits. -> Moor cats flee to what will later be known as Shadowclan, with Tall Shadow assuming leadership.

Sixth book -> war. slash is defeated and some more cats die. -> Wind Runner and her followers go back to the moor, needing time to heal. this officially marks the beginning of each clan, Thunderclan, Riverclan, Shadowclan, Windclan and Skyclan. -> general wrap up of the series and some implements of the first of the warrior code.

[cheapsweets]

The Devoted Vaegshar

My response to this week’s BestiaryPosting challenge, from @maniculum

Pencil sketch, then lines in Sailor fude nib fountain pen, using Diamine Sepia ink. Not a lot of time or energy this week, but I tried to have some fun with it :)

Thought process under the cut…

"The Vaegshar, so called from the sound it makes, [redacted], is a shy bird, and stays all the time on mountain summits and in deserted, lonely places. It shuns the houses and society of men and keeps to the woods. Even in the winter time, when it has lost its plumage, it is said to live in the hollow trunks of trees. The Vaegshar also overlays its nest with squill leaves, in case a wolf should attack its young. For it knows that wolves usually run from leaves of this kind.

It is said that when the she-bird is widowed by the loss of her mate, she holds the name and rite of marriage in such esteem, that because her first experience of love has deceived her, cheating her with the death of her beloved, since he has become permanently unfaithful and a bitter memory, causing her more grief by his death than he gave her pleasure from his affection, for this reason she refuses to marry again, and will not relax the oaths of propriety or the contract made with the man who pleased her. She reserves her love for her dead mate alone and keeps the name of wife for him."

We have a decently long description this time, and we know it's definitely a Bird, but the rest is more a description of the behaviour than any physical description.

With all this freedoms, I was actually influenced heavily by the approach of @strixcattus and their naturalist-style descriptions; rather than taking everything in the bestiary text literally, I started thinking about what kind of appearence could have caused the writers to come up with these associations (particularly the widowed/mourning aspect).

As such, the female Vaegshar has a crest of feathers that resembles a widow's cap/mourning cap, or alternately a 'Mary Stuart cap', with a peak or heart-shape, and streamers down the sides. Is this a little anachronistic? Given that the widow's cap was Victorian, and Mary Stuary lived (and died) in the 1500s, the answer is probably yes, but I didn't have the time to research medieval mourning customs in detail, and it gave me a nice visual cue to start with.

Of course, the smaller and more flamboyant male Vaegshar has a simlar crest, only the 'streamers' are longer and stand up more. I like to think that for both of them, they can lay their crests flat or raise them for display.

The rest of the birds were largely based on the Eurasian Wren (the bird with the best scientific name, Troglodytes troglodytes), including the colouring and markings (with a little extrapolation/jazzing up, as we know from the description that these birds have breeding or nuptual plumage). They are really cool, funky little birds. Reading the description back, they are probably a little small (I doubt a nestful of wren-sized birds would provide even a fun-sized snack for a wolf)!

On a slight tangent, I am pleased to find out about a plant called 'squill'! It's either Drimia (medicinal, poisonous, so seems likely given the description) or Scilla (which is amusing given that a synonym for Drimia is Charybdis...)

[ornstein]

*taps mic* Okay, going to be really silly for a moment here with unsolicited half-jokingly, half-honest rambling. Unless forgetting someone, not many Ghosttsu characters have this type of receding hairline except Kazumasa Sakai and Ryuzo, side antagonists both born of different backgrounds but united in their means by a similar cause: grief.

Kazumasa was widowed after the premature loss of his wife Chiyoko, this much is clear. As a consequence, he went down a grievous path for the rest of his life, neglecting his son's emotional needs and dedicating his final days to bloodshed in order to gain control over a piece of land.

Kazumasa pic from Firescorpio on twitter.

The thing is, Kazu's widow's peak is less prominent than Ryuzo's. So how does the myth affect Ryuzo in the greater scale? At first glance the answer is simple. He is mourning the many straw hats who died. As he recalls, he lost a great number of friends and is trying to make it up by being in charge and caring for the remaining ones. He works completely on his own, devoted to his job and brooding in a deep sense of duty, begrudgingly accepting Jin's help but hopeful it'll at least ensure that he and his men won't go another day without food. Now, I have my personal theories (or headcanons) about what truly went down in Komoda beach that made Ryuzo so sensitive towards his success with keeping his men safe and Jin's unwanted good-willed intrusion, but I'll leave that out of this post for now.

Thing is, that may not be the sole reason for Ryuzo's mourning, at least not in a straightforward in-the-face fashion, but still quite prevalent if we take into consideration his inconsistent behaviour during act 2.

Enter Jin dying at Komoda beach and being reborn as the Ghost, who in Shimura's (and more latently in Ryuzo's) eyes is nothing but a husk of the perfect son/brother-in-arms he was revered to be. During his childhood, Ryuzo was transparently disdainful about Shimura's influence over his friend, but despite so, he idolized the traditions and principles of the Samurai culture and admired Jin's expertise and a part of him likely aspired to grow up into a Samurai himself so he could become his equal. But if the Tournament wasn't enough for Ryuzo to have one sided beef with Jin for over two years and further stain their relationship, with the death of Jin Sakai, the Samurai, and the birth of the Ghost, Ryuzo rewinds his brain and clutches on to the deluded ideology that Jin could have been better off under the tutelage of a hateful and narrow-minded puppet like Shimura, showing disappointment at Jin for breaking the Samurai code, and not as the Ghost, an unrestrained moral strength bringing hope and kindness to the helpless townspeople when nobody else would, someone him and the straw hats could have allied to if Ryuzo and Jin didn't have such clown-to-clown communication skills and the ronin had made plans on behalf of Lady Sanjo's protection to ensure their survival while aiding Jin on taking back Castle Kaneda (there must've been close contacts to Umugi Cove among the straw hats unless both sides had been holding a grudge, which would leave Umugi Cove out of the question, or unless those ronin who could reach Toyotama were dead 🤔).

Instead, Ryuzo becomes a walking contradiction for the sake of subterfuging his inexcusable acts, opting to villanize Jin for his sacrifices as such a radical change of character would leave him confused and deeply hurt and betrayed, for which half of act 1/act 2 he spends projecting his insecurities and flaws and even his ambitions onto Jin, possibly to justify what was done was inevitable, and even to not think of himself as an enemy or (more questioningly) a bad person. Altogether, he mourns a Jin from the past that, deep down in his gut, knows never existed, but clings to during his most distressing moments as a self-defense mechanism -it is possible the human brain may involuntarily regress when faced with harsh realities and catastrophic events, and though this is not quite a literal "regression", it could still manifest otherwise.

My point is, he really is a widowed maiden grieving a literal ghost, in this essay I will-

[rreskk]

The moment I saw you and some other amazing tumblr accounts writing about gothssssss OMGMMGMGMG. Okay okay okay, I'm sorry but this request is kind of weird. Fem reader who's a goth with Trevor. Blood kink? pls? and like the reader is lowkey dom but still sub?? The reader has like a vampire kink basically or whatv. IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT I FEEL LIKE YOULL DO GREAT. THANK YOU SM

And all the goth lovers have RISEN FROM THE DEAD! Welcome to the land of living corpses my loves ;)

Summary: Trevor loves himself a girl with dark senses.

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Goth Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 1777 (I should of made if 1666 for the vibe lol)

It wasn’t really a thought during the time. While his finger would constantly cry to rip your fishnets, freeing whatever surprise you had under this extravagant exterior, he wouldn’t mind either outcomes. This was just some random guy you had been seduced by when clubbing. His dirty tongue and provocative lips; how could you refuse? He was a human meat chamber for your hunger. Nonetheless, he was absolutely handsome. There was this unnatural aura to this man who claimed to be some-sort of sinner. By the way he’d beg for your pussy, maybe he was a sinner. A strong sinner.

He was called Trevor.

Trevor Philips

A likely hot-heated freak you’ve wrapped around your finger after a night of exploring Satan’s backrooms. Remembering the way he moaned your name as your hands pulled onto his godforsaken hair – well… What was left of his hair. Even if he was such an awful person, that doesn’t stop you from seeing him every now and then. Besides, he loves himself a gothic woman such as you. He’s never explored a lady with such darkness to her, that he’s simply addicted.

-

Tonight was like no-other night. You’ve found yourself pressing your heavy boots upon his thigh, watching the way he crawled his hands up and down your fishnets and black skirt. His eyes were begging. He was like a puppy losing his mother.

“C’mon…” He whispered lowly, occasionally tugging on your tights, making one of the holes bigger by moment.

You trailed your sharp nails across his thinning hair and smiled. Trevor was relieved at your affection and fell into your palm until the nail pierced his scalp.

“Ah! – “ But his hiss was paused when you pressed kisses upon the now seeping blood. It oozed down to his scarred eyebrow, the sensation tickling his facial hairs. Trevor shivered. He wasn’t fazed at all, instead, he was extremely aroused. That bulge within his jeans had twitched; you saw it twitch crazily. It was like a rabid animal trying to free itself from his clothes.

You kissed away the trails of blood until smudges remained. His hands around your thighs squeezed tighter as he was getting very impatient. The poor man was on his knees, practically clinging to your legs. You’d find that he would try and take a sneak peak from under your skirt but of course, you kneed him away, earning a rather husky groan.

“[y/n]! You can’t be teasing me anymore,” Trevor grumbled at your sadistic behaviour, “Let me fuck you, yeah? A good fuck… Baby?”

“I’m enjoying myself. Are you not?” You uttered with his blood staining your lips.

“I am enjoying myself, sweets… But I’d be happier if you gave into me. C’mon, I know you just wanna have that thing ripped off you, yeah?”

You glanced down at your corset and airy shirt that he was referring to. While covered up, your bra was visible through the black, long-sleeved shirt. He had his sights fixated on it since the moment you had him kneeing. From his current height, the size of your breasts were huge. He’d have to lean back just to see your face, but that’s a problem he LOVEDhaving.

“I wanna see you.” He’d protest again, continuously.

“You want so much.”

“You offer so much.”

His snarky comment made you roll your eyes back. There wasn’t a fault in his words but the audacity was grudge-worthy. Still, he looked at you with innocence. That “please, honey?” expression never fails to make your legs a tiny bit weak. Who wouldn’t? Them brown eyes are not for the soft-minded. He uses them with the intent to shatter and dismantle the chosen prey; you.

“Fine…” You breathed, studying the way he slowly stood to his feet. Trevor painfully waited until he was hovering over you, due to his height. He smirked down and allowed his hands to reach the back of your corset.

You’d gasp. He ripped it open. Trevor’s scowl twitched as he used his arm strength to rip the ribbons, releasing the pressure it had on your outfit and stomach. It was thrown aside with a massive thump and he didn’t stop there, no way. He eagerly held the shirt over your head and removed that as well. You were shirtless before him.

“Mmm…” His teeth were gritting at the view of your bra and breasts. Your crucifix was buried between them. He pulled it out before sniffing the scent. He sniffed loudly, moaning at the smell.

“Trevor – “ Words were taken as he smashed his mouth against yours. The necklace dangled around your chest, his hands moving from your hips to your ass. He deepened the kiss until you were pressed against the nearby wall. That constant clutter and swaying of the picture frames, etc… It wasn’t a bother to him. As long as you were pressed against him, there wasn’t a worry in the world.

The make-out session had left you panting for air. Trevor threw off your bra and crucifix necklace, diving his face between your tits and licking the hell out of them. He’d murmur words of affirmation as you’d bite your tongue. His tongue was so nasty against your sensitive nipple, it was almost too good to be true.

“Oh, yes…” And the growing heat inside your lower tummy was growing feral. You needed him now. Your grinded your hips against his beasty boner that had managed to rest against the hem of his jeans.

Trevor cursed, “Fuck…” When you had grinded hard into him. The extra heat was menacing.

Your back was rubbing the wall since there was no obvious hints that a bed was going to be used. Instead, he lifted one of your legs up and torn the fishnets apart around your crotch area. He was panting at the desperation. Your skirt was lifted up and soon enough, your pussy was out in the open. And it was wetter than the ocean.

“Just how I fuckin’ like it, babe.” He smiled and shuffled his jeans down to his ankles. With your help, his erection came bursting from his pants. Your fingers gently massaged the tip as he foamed at the mouth with hot saliva. He stared into your eyes with pure desire that a few drools went unnoticed.

“C’mon, Trevor.”

“I’m coming… I’m comin’, babe.” His words dragged like he was barely sober. Suddenly the usage of alcohol and meth would kick in the second he was in contact with raging hormones.

Trevor lined up his penis, slapping your hand away with urgency. You smirked at his snappiness. He frowned when slapping your hand. That frown was oddly petty but disgustingly attractive. You couldn’t help yourself as you’d lean forward, sinking your teeth into his pulsing neck and making him thrumble relentlessly. Trevor tried to keep his composure, rubbing his penis against your sex but that stinging pain of your canines made him squawk.

“Shit! [y/n]!”

That didn’t stop you from sinking deeper. You waited and waited and waited until that iron taste of his blood (once again). He was left clinging to your chest and whimpering. Your teeth were too harsh on his fragile neck – that was now painted with crimson liquid. You refurnished yourself and stared forward.

“Sorry, baby… I couldn’t help myself.” You offered an apology like there wasn’t red colour around your lips and teeth.

Trevor looked bitter as fuck. He glared at your bravery. He wiped his neck and noticed the running blood dribbling down from the permanent bite mark.

“Fuck…” He murmured to himself, “That’s so fuckin’ hot…”

You were baffled when he licked your lips, tasting his own blood. He gave his tongue a click and grinned, he was satisfied.  

“Heh…” A nervous breath left your departed mouth before he kissed you again. During this kiss, he had thrusted his hips into yours, therefore, penetrating you – finally – with his own cock. The amount of times you moaned into his mouth as the pace was already unbearably fast. By all means, you were constantly slammed against the wall with his every thrust and recoil.

“TREVOR! – “

But he refused to stop kissing. It was an excruciating pleasure. Your make-up, that was already ruined from his kisses beforehand, had ended up caking him as well. Your red and black lipstick smudged all over his jaw and neck, your foundation leaving powdering splodges against his cheek and nose. When he did pull away, the make-up was mutual on both faces. It was almost like he was wearing more than you.

“That’s right… Oh, yeah! Fuck me!” Trevor proudly yelled when wrapping one of your legs around his waist to deepen the access to your pussy. You’d cry and squirm and moan and groan and fidget and sweat and pant and shriek.

“Harder!”

“Oh… That’s my fuckin’ girl!”

Until your hips were reddened, the thrusts were passionate still. There had to be rashes from his skin rubbing against yours constantly. You felt tingling and some burning, but it was blankly ignored since his dick was giving you the joy of a lifetime and more.

“Trevor! Trevor! Christ!” You hurried as the butterflies in your stomach grew intense. The beginning of your climax was happening and apparently he was experiencing the same. He was twitching non-stop, his eyes and his cock. You stroked a hand through his sweaty hair, tugging on a bundle before his body shook.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna! – “ Trevor kissed the corner of your mouth as he continued fucking you.

Momentarily, it came. You came, he came, the feeling came. It rushed. He hunched forward and pinned you against the poor wall as his cock squirted all on your skirt and tummy. You too had cum rushing out of your pussy, drizzling down your thighs and legs. In some parts, it stuck your fishnets to your skin (well, what’s remaining of them anyway).

“Fuckin’…” He struggled to breathe.

You bite your lip and rubbed the soreness of his neck, feeling his tension from looking down at your body. A small grumble responded to your affections and he simply carried you to the sofa. Your boots were torn off, so was your cum-stained skirt. Being left naked, he just climbed on top of you and sighed. His face found home between your breasts and it was clear, non-verbally, that was needed a good old-fashioned cuddle. Naked edition.

“There we go.” You softly kissed his forehead and allowed your body to finally rest.

“My neck hurts…” That muffle responded from between your boobs.

“I know, baby, I know…”

“Bite me more sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but grin, “Alright… As you wish.”

[bnhaobservation]

Do you think Enji doubled down with training Shoto because he didn't want a repeat of what happened with Touya? Or was it all solely for the sake of his ambition?

Well...

...as usual what follows are my two cents and I'm not Horikoshi so this is just speculation.

Said this, let's start from canon first.

This is what Enji says in chap 302.

'Ano hi subete akirameteireba________ ... Tōya wo koroshite shimatta koto de ato ni hikenaku natteita... Shōto ni keitou suru hoka naku natteita'

「あの日全て諦めていれば___________ ... 燈矢を殺してしまったことで後に引けなくなっていた...焦凍に傾倒する他...なくなっていた。」

"If only I had given everything up that day... But after I killed Tōya, I couldn't turn back... I could do nothing but... devoteding myself to Shōto..."

Now, there's something we've to remember. Very likely the Todoroki family plotline wasn't planned in advance in details.

In fact in the first version of chap 302 which came out in the magazine Horikoshi had Rei be hospitalized AFTER Tōya's death.

What does this mean?

That Horikoshi planned to use Tōya's death as explanation for why Enji's abuse of Shōto and Rei became too much as well as an explanation for Rei's worsening mental health until she snaps... as well as place the blame for Tōya's death on both parents as neither went after him even though it was late in the night and they knew he went on that cursed peak to train and could hurt himself.

And in itself it wasn't a completely bad idea, the loss of a child can cause people to cope with grief in the worst ways and would help to underline the drama the Todoroki went through... as well as give a role in the family's tragedy.

The problem is... Horikoshi had previously stated Rei was already hospitalized when Tōya died... (chap 250)

...son in the volume version he had to correct things and say Rei was hospitalized FIRST and Tōya died after her hospitalization.

But likely this too in chap 250 is a retcon and originally Tōya's death wasn't planned at all because actually Shōto never went to visit her because HE felt he was to blame, because his existence drove her away, and not because Rei's conditions worsened (Chap 44)

Proof is also how Fuyumi asks him why he would go see her now, after all this time, clearly implying he changed his mind about it, and not that it was due to her mother's conditions worsening.

Long story short, very likely Tōya's death wasn't planned when Horikoshi first created Shōto's past and this ended up leading Horikoshi to retcon way too many times the Todoroki family's past to the point canon itself is contraddictory.

So, to answer your question, I'll focus on the canon of the later chapters, assuming it overwrites the one of the previous chapters.

What Enji really means with his excuse?

His ambitions, his neglect and his cowardice (as in his inability to face Tōya) lead to Tōya's death.

He should have faced his guilt, realize the damage he had caused to the remaining members of his family, realize he wronged them and that he was wrong and atone.

Yes, Tōya was dead but he had three still living children he could try to properly take care of.

Instead Enji decides not to admit he was wrong and that he should atone to his family and instead he stubbornly insists in his behaviour even more.

It's called "sunk cost fallacy", and it's losely when your behaviour leads you to lose something, in this case it lead him to lose his child, and you still don't stop acting the way you did but keep on pursuing the same goal, acting the same way, feeling if you were to give up, the loss you suffered wouldn't be 'justified'.

Enji basically tells himself if he'll manage to make Shōto surpass All Might this will 'justify' Tōya's death, that he can't stop now because Tōya died.

Yes, it's stupid and yes it's something many people do.

So, it' started for his ambitions but it got worse because he was plagued by guilt that he didn't want to face.

I'm not sure what you mean with 'a repeat of what happened with Tōya' because what happened with Tōya can't really be replicated with Shōto.

Enji attempted to stop Tōya from training against Tōya's will because Tōya's Quirk hurt him and, therefore, according to Enji, this would make impossible for Tōya to become a Hero,never mentioning one who would surpass All Might, as Tōya would get hurt each time he were to use his fire. This lead him to also ignore his child who then trained on his own ended up on losing control of his Quirk and killed himself.

In regard to Shōto though, Enji's behaviour and Shōto's situation were opposite. Shōto's Quirk doesn't hurt him and Enji is forcing Shōto to train against Shōto's will because he believes Shōto can become a Hero.

If Enji had stopped training Shōto, Shōto would have apprecciated it as Enji's training was abusive in nature as the man was going well above Shōto's limits. Even if Shōto were to decide to train on his own like his brother did, his Quirk doesn't hurt him and it was unlikely even if Shōto were to lose control of his fire he would met his brother's same end as he could have snuffled the fire with his ice.

So, it's not like Enji is afraid if he were to stop training Shōto, Shōto would go training on his own and burn himself to death... though I might have misunderstood you and maybe you meant something else. If that's the case I apologize.

Anyway, to sum it up, for me chap 302 is trying to tell us Enji, in addition to pursuing his ambitions, is likely trying to give a sense to his child's death that wouldn't cause him to admit he was to blame.

If Horikoshi will further retcon the Todoroki family, future chapters might tell us something different... and if we go back to the early chapters in which Tōya's death wasn't planned yet... it likely was somely Enji's ambition what pushed him to act in such way... unless back then Horikoshi was thinking to another reason which then got retconned out of the story.

Again, those are my two cents and I might be wrong but that's what I thought about it.

Thank you for your ask!

[ask-the-dweets]

Dwight "Elf" Fairfield

(Known as Dwight in most AUs) Pronouns: He/him Gender: Cis male Sexuality: Demisexual/poly Age: 25 Height: 5'10" (179cm) Time in the fog: 25+ years, he's lost track

Elf's main build: Prove Thyself, Unbreakable, Resilience, Iron Will

His perks are primarily to keep himself running no matter what. If he's up he can help the team, and he'll do his best to carry that team and take the heat if needed.

Elf's other available perks: Elf can use any and all survivor perks!!! but some others he often uses are Dead Hard, Adrenaline, and Decisive Strike

Playstyle: Aggressive He's either working on generators or distracting the killer. He's not one to dick around in a trial. He can act like a completely different person sometimes with how energetic he can be with griefing a killer for it to attack him. You know those really annoying Dwights that will loop you the entire game and be a dick about it? Yeah that’s him.

Favoured item: A flashlight or medkit, though he can find a use for almost anything. And if he can’t he’ll hand it off to another teammate that can use it.

🎄Get to know Elf under the cut! 🎄

Elf’s past is a little muddled to himself at this point, and sometimes past reminiscing from the other Dwights make him confused on which memories are actually his, but:

He didn’t have it very easy, his parents were overbearing and always pushing him into things he didn’t want to do, and places he knew he wasn't suited for being in. It sort of gave him his more detached, distant behaviour. It was also extremely common for him to fail in most outlets of his life or be picked on by others for being a pushover.

This was no different when he finally got a decent job at Peak 22. 

The boss, Lazar, had found Dwight to be a great punching bag for the few months he had worked there. The pay was too good for Dwight to really consider leaving...yet. He could handle it for a while longer until he found something better.

There had been a ‘teambuilding exercise’ that was mandatory for all of the Peak 22 workers to go to, a camping trip. Nobody particularly wanted to be there, including himself. His boss brought out his patented moonshine for the event, bolstering it to be the best of the best. Everyone rolled their eyes, but nobody refused Lazar. They didn’t want to lose their jobs. Dwight isn’t sure if his drink was spiked or if he was just that bad at holding his liquor but either way when he came to, everyone was gone. Probably another one of Lazar’s great pranks, but he never made it back home.

--

5 songs I associate with Elf:

(Warning: This is at the mercy of mod's taste in music :P) Main song: Not Havin a Blast - Demi the Daredevil I'm not a good person - Pat The Bunny People Watching - Air Traffic Controller Every Day is Exactly the Same - Elektrik People Don't Save Me - Chxrlotte

Spotify Playlist (Songs that remind me of Elf, Warning: It's depressing)

Potentially one of the first Dwights in the fog, if not the first

He’s been trapped in the fog longer than he had been alive outside of it and has gone through multiple campfires

His first and longest campfire was with his original crew consisting of most of the older survivors. This is where he had a relationship with Jake, Meg, and Claudette, unfortunately they later faded into the void but somehow he managed to stay for the other survivors still at the campfire

Even now he holds onto friendship bracelets that belonged to them

From his other friends fading he had a brief stint with the Trapper, Evan, too. Who taught him a lot about the killer side of things. Unfortunately it didn't go over well and his campmates no longer trusted him; he was forced to separate himself from Evan and was ostracized from the other survivors for a long time.

It left him bitter.

When Fancy finally came around Elf was nearing the void, but was brought back by the need to help Fancy through the hellscape of the fog

At that point he had been able to have a small rag-tag campfire of other survivors that trusted him

He’s very protective over Fancy and tries to look out for him

At this point Elf is quite jaded and moody, and is generally untrusting of most people and places. It comes from being burned too many times in the fog, and at this point he’s too far gone to bother to make solid connections with other people anymore.

He’s likely to push away or lash out at someone if they try to get close to him, the loneliness and the desperation to be loved is still there but it comes out as anger when he tries to fight it

He’s likely nearing the void again

Though he’s not as approachable or as nice as Fancy he still tries to be friendly, to other survivors, if distant

He has a soft spot for any member of the OG 4

He doesn’t really feel fear properly anymore, if at all

In a trial he is in full work mode and will always calculate how to be the most efficient he can be. Often with the other two Dwights that means he’s on running duty.

He has no regard for his own life and will throw himself in the way for others If he deems it a wise decision for the team, it’s more just going through the motions than for proper regard to the other. 

In trials, Elf can sometimes come off as a completely different person. Energetic, loud, and fiery, whatever he needs to be to get the killer’s attention.

He absolutely HATES the Elf costume, and because of it now he also hates bells. Even jokes about it can put him in a bad mood. He still doesn’t necessarily dislike Christmas, but he does hate it when it is associated with himself.

The sweater is itchy, the bells are annoying, the shoes are inconvenient and uncomfortable, and the tights are... well, tight.

He spaces out on occasion, it rarely happens in trial but it can be rather common at the campfire. He also often falls asleep when he doesn’t mean to.

He’s constantly tired, he used to be fatigued from stress and fear… now it just feels like static. He often thinks he feels numb.

Knows the names of all of the killers (refuses to use them) and is adept in noticing changes in trials/maps

Doesn’t really stutter at all, may stutter if surprised but he’s more likely to freeze up. 

He pauses in his speech when he’s feeling uncomfortable

Nervous habits: He prefers being more closed off from others, covering his chest by folding his arms, slouching forward and generally just looking less approachable

In-Game Reference: Mr. Elf Outfit (Only forced to wear it in trials!! He can wear whatever he wants outside of it!)

His other main outfit he wears often (Designed by @dwhatsup)

He often wears it without the jacket, gloves and beanie