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sftandwet · 6 months

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⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ DEMONS ★ MOVIE STAR

links : masterlist revil ★ movie star event

content alert : pwp, DARK CONTENT , cnc, rough sex, blood, oral sex , pet names, biting, p in v. DEMON SEX

author's notes ★ I was supposed to do this on Thursday the 12th and post it on Friday the 13th, however, due to limited time I wasn't able to do and post anything :') I wanted to make the story a little rough, I confess, I love the theme of “what the fuck? That shit only happens in movies”, so I exaggerated and I hope I didn't spoil the story . supernatural creature and the language invented so as not to offend any God or religion!! Dirty story, if you don't like reading this category, please don't force yourself, know your limits !! It was supposed to be very small, but it ended up being big

You had meticulously cleaned the attic in preparation for the ritual. You removed all belongings, leaving only a small mirror for you to peek at what could be behind you, and opened the window to prevent the smoke from suffocating you. However, your body shivered with the gentle breeze that entered through the window, causing shivers down your spine. Your lips trembled and your body spasmed as you held the small burning leaf of the tree of the tree. Although it was green, it burned without hesitation, releasing dark smoke and a sweet fragrance that spread throughout the attic. As you noticed the flame gradually changing color, you closed your eyes and lips, adjusted your posture carefully to avoid smudging the chalk that covered the floor, and finally took a deep breath, feeling the gusts of fresh air enter your lungs.

"Ahnev éta mi rovaf rop¹", master, I beg for your arrival," you whisper, passing the tree leaf of the tree engulfed in flames between your chest, neck, and lips. The sheet slowly wilts, transitioning from black to yellow, expelling the sweet scent and the bitter smell that prevails in the room, gradually fading away.

Your body feels hollow inside, your eyes seem to tear up without reason, although such actions startle you, you continue with your ritual.

You feel hands running through your hair, a gentle caress that tugs lightly, accompanied by a cold breath in your ear. Your body jumps in surprise, but you force yourself to keep your eyes closed, your lips tremble and tears threaten to escape, yet you bite your lip and hold yourself back.

"Ednam mu sod sues sotirípse arap o otnartoc²", with a shaky voice and trembling hands, you continue the path of the sheet, passing it over your nose, eyebrows, and forehead. The ritual instructed you to pass it over your head until the spirit was with you. You pass it through your hair, hesitantly stretching your arm up to the top of your head, a little further back, sobbing as you feel the small sheet pass through a barrier and your fingers touch a face.

Your heart races, and even though you know that the existence of that being would never harm you, you cry like never before, feeling fear disrupt your breathing, making you breathe heavily through your mouth, trying to find the right rhythm for the torturous balls of oxygen to stop entering your lungs; however, nothing seems to work, blurring your vision and making your eyes even more teary.

"Shh, my dear... I won't hurt you." Your body freezes, and the hand that was in your hair rests on your face, caressing it slowly, running the nails along your cheek, gently descending down your neck and returning until the fingers rest on your cheek.

"Breathe slowly, love. If you don't, our encounter will be eternal," he laughs at you, adjusting the straps of your dress and planting a kiss on your shoulder.

You try to calm yourself, desperately trying to quiet down the frantic breaths your brain forced upon you, feeling little pats on your head and gentle strokes. He's still behind you, his gaze burning like embers, and despite the chilly touches, the warmth emanating from his body is questioning.

"I feel alone, despite the presence of the host. Speak to me. You summoned me here, and ignoring me wouldn't be a good thing to do."

Swallowing the dry lump in your throat, you take a deep breath and try to look behind you, but you see nothing but darkness.

"I'm sorry, it's still new to me. It wasn't my intention to ignore you," you murmur, placing the burnt leaf of the tree on the little table beside you. "Could you please be kind enough to reveal yourself to me? And also, please tell me how I should address you."

You close your eyes, following the ritual's rules to the letter. Your head bows down, hands open, exuding absolute trust towards the being standing before you. A warm breeze caresses your body, and at last, you open your eyes, catching a glimpse of him seated on the armchair you carefully arranged.

The sight freezes you in place, for the umpteenth time tonight. He is simply breathtaking, with fair skin and shimmering blue eyes, reflecting a blend of sadness and depth within the irises. His lips are red, and his blond hair shines brilliantly, complementing his robust physique draped in black attire, which accentuates his muscles and skin.

"Call me Leon. So... what do you seek from us?" he says, his voice captivating. You reply, bowing and crawling on your knees, clasping your hands as a gesture of respect. "Sir, I seek wealth or a lucrative occupation to secure my sustenance. I have been plagued by a streak of misfortune, where nothing seems to hold or remain stable," you sigh, making eye contact with him, adjusting your dress, and offering a charming smile. "If you could grant me stability, I would be fully satisfied, my Lord. I promise to do anything."

Intrigued and curious, Leon looks at you, smiling slightly at you. "What can you offer me that would benefit me?"

You promptly respond, "My soul, Master." He bursts into laughter, rising from the armchair and moving closer to you. Firmly holding your face, he plunges his gaze deep into your eyes.

"My dear, I do not deal with souls. They hold no value to me. You can do whatever you want with your soul. I seek something more enduring. he whispers, gradually nearing your ear. "Something enjoyable that I can relish throughout this physical existence. What can you offer us, my dear?"

A shiver runs down your spine, causing your skin to tingle. Instinctively, you pull away slightly from Leon, locking your gaze with his. You feel enchanted by those velvety blue eyes. "Something enduring... For how long?"

“Until this body perishes. As long as there is life within this vessel, our agreement shall be upheld,” he smiles at you, delicately playing with the straps of your dress. “The choice is yours; offer me something and I shall grant you everything you desire.”

“So, what do you decide? Remember, this choice will be irreversible, so be absolutely certain.”

You contemplate the vastness of his blue eyes, hesitating with your response. Throughout the pact, you have made impulsive decisions, offering only your simple soul, despite it not being what the spirits desired. However, witnessing the tide of misfortune that has engulfed you, you finally reach your verdict.

“I accept, though I have only my body to offer, I believe it can be fair.” Your heart races as your trembling hands glide across Leon's face. You feel his skin, cool and smooth beneath your fingertips, watching him slowly close his eyes as if surrendering to a profound pleasure. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that your touch causes him to advance slowly, moving up onto your body, sliding between your legs, entrapping you.

“Somav rales o odroca, roma. Iuqa eta o otesr ed ahnim aicnetsixe.” ── ( Let's seal the contract, love. here for the rest of my existence)

He lays on top of you, slowly pulling your dress down, making you sigh with the cold touches of his fingers, which passed over your shoulders and slowly descended between your breasts, taking the fabric with it, removing it from your body each time.

“you're so beautiful” he murmurs, running his nose under your neck, gently licking the skin, feeling the vein pulsate, pumping your blood quickly.

The intensity of desire dominating every fiber of his being, making him yearn for you even more. You, completely naked, feel the cold air from the attic envelope your body. However, an overwhelming wave of heat washes over you, like mysterious flames coursing through your being. Your eyes meet Leon's, who smiles softly.

Resting your back slowly under the floor, you sigh as you feel Leon running his sharp nails slowly under your breasts, sliding down, scratching your belly until he reaches your pelvis, where his hand stops and you moan softly. He sat on the floor, grabbing the bottom of your thighs, opening you up to him. He almost moaned at the beautiful sight, your beautiful slit glistening with his essence, clit begging for his attention.

“I guess someone got excited about the idea, hmm?”

His index and middle fingers slowly separated your vaginal lips, spreading his cum across your pussy, watching her sigh and her hips roll against his hand. Leon kneels, coming face to face with her needy cunt and his tongue applies pressure to your wet clit, feeling the cum on your taste buds.

Grabbing the point of pleasure on your thin lips, he sucked skillfully, pulled your leg and brought your hips closer to his beautiful face, you didn't hesitate to clumsily grab his blonde hair and pull him closer, feeling the overwhelming pleasure manipulate your body, making your hips rub against his face, feeling the light brush of his nose.

In a brutal way, Leon pulls you and lies down on the floor, leaving you on top of his face, rubbing your pussy on his face. You move back a little, raising your hips suddenly, however, pulling your thighs tightly, making your pussy fit tightly into Leon's mouth.

“L-Leon!” you moaned shamelessly, eyes closed, mouth wide open and hands in Kennedy's hair. “yes, like that, my good girl, moan my name, don’t be shy. I want to hear all the moans you make while you ride my face . ”

Leon sucked you in an unprecedented way, hugged her leg tightly and ate you cunt desperately. Penetrating his tongue inside you, sliding between the soft, wet walls of your pussy, quickly thrusting in and out, making a mess.

Leon holds your hip bone, rubbing your cunt on your tongue as he leans in, and licks straight up your already weeping pussy.

“F-Fuck, Iー I-I... I'm going to c-um...Leon! ー you scream, feeling tears come out of your eyes and my pussy tighten around his tongue.

You cum on his face and, even though you cum, Leon doesn't stop fucking you. Sucking and nibbling on your clit, while your thighs trembled, he ignored it, just focusing on eating your luscious cunt and enjoying fucking you. He sucked you pussy, his tongue sometimes massaged your clit very quickly, sucking and spitting on her clit making your even wetter.

“Your pussy is the best thing I’ve ever eaten, baby.”

Leon turns you around and puts you on the floor, kneeling between your legs, watching your pussy spill out as he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his underwear, his cock springs deliciously out; His length was veiny, long and girthy, tip leaking with a small bead of precum.

Instantly, your legs close and rub against each other, feeling the lubrication slide down your pussy. The rough and firm hands gently separate your legs, holding both legs and placing them on his shoulder, pulling your hips closer to his cock.

Leon stuck his hard cock inside you, penetrating quickly, sliding inside your soft, wet walls, feeling the pleasure take over your body. His expression turned you on, his heavy breathing and his hoarse voice in your ear, his eyes lowered and the darkness swallowing the blue irises that set you on fire. He kissed your neck, licking the sweaty skin, avoiding biting. It would be fatal to bite you in a vital spot. Leon's cock was plunging inside you and slamming into your womb with a precision that was nothing short of bringing you to the brink of tears, fucking you hard, trying his best to ram his cock as deep as he could. to take. He lies on top of you, pressing his bare chest against your breasts, crushing them, while his mouth approaches yours, breathing heavily against your lips.

Your eyes were watering, your chest was rising and falling uncontrollably, you felt him slide into your pussy and pull out, fucking your pussy roughly, grabbing your legs tightly, stretching you and scratching your skin. You could glimpse the trickles of blood coming from your calves, you didn't care, focused on your pussy being fucked you didn't feel the burning on your skin.

“Your pussy feels so good— Damn!” he groaned, pulling away, getting on his knees, while still holding onto your legs. After seeing the flow of blood, Leon smiles at you with purple eyes, taking your injured calf and licking it then, continuing with his tongue out, showing his bloody tongue. “Apparently it's not just pussy that tastes good”

Inevitably your legs shook at his tone of voice and your hands grabbed your abdomen, digging into your shirt, scratching it in the same rhythm as his balls hit yours hard. skin, feeling your nails linger on the soft flesh of his muscles, feeling him tremble beneath your fingers.

“Leon!” you moaned desperately “p-please, I’m going to cum, stop it!, I-”

“Shit. Just take it, bae” He whispered in your ear, picking you up and pressing you against the wall next to the ritual, getting deeper and deeper, biting your shoulder and moving down your face a little more to reach your breasts where he sucked your nipples, biting, licking and sucking them, feeling the spasms of your body. Leon became more and more rough, even ignoring a scream of pleasure escaping your throat as you felt that heat in your abdomen dissipate and expand in an orgasm, tightening your legs around his hips, clawing at his back, like a desperate plea for him to keep hitting that sweet spot inside you.

You couldn't see properly due to the tears of pleasure, your eyes became increasingly heavy, but the brief view you had from the small mirror abandoned in the attic was the best; Leon's back was covered in scratches and you had marks, scratches and bites on your calves.

“F-Fuck” he grunted, pulling his dick out of your pussy, penetrating you again until he felt his base was completely inside you.

“Cum on my cock, I want to feel you” You came with a loud scream, your body shaking as Leon continued eating your wet hole, then you felt him cum, he quickly pulled out and cum on your belly, protecting it tightly , putting your face on your neck. Leon can't control himself and bites his neck hard, sending shocks through his body as thick jets come out of his dick.

“Oh! Leon” you hit his shoulder trying to get away quickly, he moves away and looks worried.

“ M’ sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”

“And cut!” The director comes close to you with his hand on his forehead and looks at Leon. “Leon, I told you not to bite really hard, it has to be superficial, like a calf injury, remember that.”

“Sorry, I ended up getting carried away” He says regretfully, wrapping your legs even more around your waist, looking more at your neck, running his hand lightly over the area. "I'm sorry, darling."

“Okay, Lee” You smile at him, running your hands through his wet hair.

“Okay, okay. Let's go again! Get ready! Lights, cameras and action! ”

#MOVIE ★ EVENT!!#resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy #leon resident evil #leon re4r #leon re6 #leon s kennedy fic #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n

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stirthewaters · 17 days

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Little with You

Summary: Cg Wednesday to the rescue after Xavier says some insensitive shit. Warnings: language, anxiety attack, heavy agere themes, blood Word Count: 2.1k A/N: uhh first time writing stuff like this, bear with me please T_T this is all completely sfw and non sexual stuff! Click away if this isn't your kind of thing :))

The hallways felt too crowded, too rough. Tight even. All you could hear was the mingling sounds of talking, laughing, shoes scraping against the floor, sounds that you didn’t usually pay attention to. now it was as if they were all you could hear. As you passed, rain pattered against the windows, a constant drum that no longer felt soothing.

Your mind felt fuzzy; like cotton candy was forming a solid barrier around your brain. It made sense after all; you hadn’t been little in at least a week. What with exams coming up you couldn’t afford to take the time to do so. Unfortunately, that was most likely what was causing you to be late to class. Again. Shouldering through purple uniforms you felt your mind fighting to release from its clutches and to sink into the comforting haven of littlespace; you couldn’t do it. Not here. Not now.

When you turned the corner into a less crowded hall, you paused and pressed your back against the wall, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ground yourself, blocking out every single thought that wasn’t anything close to a big thought. Focused on the feeling of your hands gripping the material of your backpack straps. It helped. A little.

Turning away from the small hall you headed into class; psychology. You would never know why they taught psychology at a school for exceptionally gifted students. Knocking on the door you were greeted by your professor; Mr. Hedgeworth.

“Late again, Y/N?”

Those stone gray eyes that fell on you made you shudder as you spoke up hesitantly.

“I’m sorry, sir- it won’t happen again.”

The man didn’t speak but you let out a soft sigh of relief inwardly as he stepped back, allowing you entrance to the class. You briefly scanned the room and felt yourself frown when you saw the only seat open next to Xavier. He was looking at you too; his frown almost matched yours. No, you didn’t want to sit next to him; it was always occupied by him going on and on about his artwork, how he’d gotten accepted to an apprentice program in town for doing wall art in some cafe. How lucky he was to have gotten the position.

Reluctantly you dropped your bag under the desk, sliding into the chair beside him. You didn’t make eye contact as your head fell into your hand, watching the professor scribble across the chalkboard. The silence was too short until he leaned over, muttering in your ear.

“What’s up with you? You’ve been late three times this week.”

You couldn’t help a soft roll of your eyes as you mumbled in response, “Just a lot of studying for exams; nothing special.” You felt your fists clench with irritation as he gave a soft chuckle, which came off as somewhat condescending to you.

“Come on, Y/N, be real with me. You don’t study that much.”

“Xavier just drop it, okay?”

You kept your eyes ahead, focusing on Mr. Hedgeworth and nobody else. Your whole body felt too tense, your grip on the desk turning your knuckles white. The temperature of the room felt too hot; were you going to throw up? You wished, oh you wished you could be less obvious with your discomfort but Xavier noticed. He was leaning even closer. His shoulder was touching yours. You didn’t want him touching you.

“It’s not…your…your thing?”

You couldn’t help a scowl from crossing your face as you forced out through gritted teeth, “I’m not on my period, dumbass.”

“Okay, geez! Look, I’m just trying to help you, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. Don’t make me guess.”

You didn’t respond feeling your chest getting tighter. It felt as if all the air was crashing in around you and pushing in on your lungs, demanding faster breaths, and Xavier sure as hell wasn’t helping. You grimaced slightly, feeling the walls you’d built around your mind start to crumble as you fought to stay in your right of mind.

“Ohhhh…. Oh.” Xavier’s tone morphed into something akin to irritation; maybe even disgust. You felt yourself stiffen just at the sound of it. “It’s not that baby shit you told me about last year, right?”

The hands found each other, and you automatically began picking at your skin as you tried to pay all of your attention ahead of you. You didn’t want to talk about it. Especially with Xavier. Maybe you were imagining the breath you felt on your shoulder, tickling your neck. Taking your lack of a response as confirmation, he snorted and leaned back in his chair with disbelief, scoffing at you.

“It is, isn’t it? Y/N I thought you were over that.” He leaned his elbows on the desk as he tilted his head, frowning. “You get how gross that is, right? It’s a fetish.”

Your breaths were coming faster and faster; you weren’t gasping for air but it sure as hell felt like you were. You could barely put together a retort to snap back at him as he continued, stating his disapproval loud and clear.

“I mean, what, you can’t handle the big bad world so you act like a baby-? Everyone has to deal with it, that’s so sensitive, y’know?”

You stood, raising your hand and muttering a quick excuse about having to use the bathroom as you grabbed your backpack and stepped out quickly, gasping for air at this point as you ran for your dorm, trying to get your head to quiet. The hallways were thankfully emptier than usual so you were able to go faster than you normally would’ve.

Slamming open the door to your dorm you threw your backpack aside and slowly slid to the floor, drawing in rapid breaths as you tried to remember your breathing exercises, to ground yourself and calm down, but everything was so muddled you could barely form a cohesive thought.

Frantic tapping interrupted Wednesday in class as she felt the familiar hand on her shoulder. She briefly glanced over at Thing before muttering through gritted teeth.

“What is it now?”

The raven had a bit of trouble understanding his muddled mess of frequent signs and sighed with irritation. “Slower.”

When the hand finally managed to get a sentence through clearly Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly in thought, as she paused. Eventually, she raised her hand, speaking coolly. “May I use the restroom?”

Once her permissions had been granted she was quick to gather her belongings, boots echoing against the floor as she hurried out the door and towards your dorm hall. She had known this would happen; you’d been pushing yourself too long, too far.

Arriving at your dorm rather quickly she knocked a couple of times, calling out your name. Met with no response her eyebrows furrowed and the raven pushed against the door, surprised to find it unlocked. A glance around the room proved to be fruitful as she spotted you, curled up in the corner, weakly gasping for air. Crossing the room in seconds she took a seat in front of you, hesitating for a moment as she watched you grip at her sleeves for some semblance of comfort.

Wednesday reached out, gently cupping your chin and lifting it to meet her gaze. She spoke quietly, trying to calm you.

“Focus on me. Only me.”

She watched as your scared eyes, swimming with tears, met hers and you nodded shakily at her. “In. Out. Slowly.”

Your breathing began to deepen and Wednesday let out a soft sigh of relief as her attention turned to your hands; blood streaked around your fingernails, leaking down your fingers in trails. You’d been picking at your skin, no doubt something you did when you were stressed. Oddly, she didn’t like how blood looked on you.

“Stay here.”

Wednesday stood, not making any comment on the soft whimper you gave as she did so. In a moment she returned with some wet wipes, kneeling at your side and taking your hands in hers, giving them a good gentle clean and removing any traces of blood from your skin. Once done she placed the wipes aside and leaned forward, giving you a quick and small kiss on your forehead.

“Good. Let’s get you out of this dreadful uniform, hmm?”

With her guidance she helped you to your feet, working with you on untying your tie and unbuttoning your blazer; she did her best to keep you from doing most of the work, occasionally glancing at the quiet expression you had on your face. You were close to slipping, that she could tell. As she worked on your belt she muttered casually.

“You know I’m perfectly comfortable with you regressing around me, Y/N. There’s no need to pretend.”

When you shook your head she gave a quiet sigh, her hands pausing as she looked at you directly, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Did something happen?”

Your little nod confirmed her assumption as she huffed slightly, snaking your belt from your pants and folding it. “Who?”

You didn’t respond, seeming to hesitate. Narrowing her eyes, Wednesday cupped your chin softly to have you look at her. “It is acceptable to sign instead of using your words.”

You hesitated, but she felt a small twinge of satisfaction as you signed “Xavier”. Of course. Sighing in annoyance over the idea of him insulting you she released you and headed for your closet, speaking as she went in an irritated tone.

“Ignore him. Whatever he said is wrong. Especially regarding your regression.”

She promptly returned from your closet, two outfits in hand. One was a plain white shirt and jeans, an outfit she’d seen you wear regularly outside of class. The other was a black onesie with a space pattern on the front, accompanied by some fluffy socks. Raising an eyebrow she watched your eyes dart between the two.

“Take your pick.”

When eventually you picked the onesie she felt her gaze soften just slightly. Oh, how your weakness softened her sharp edges; it was repulsive how she behaved around you. Stepping forward the raven wordlessly helped you into the garment, a hint of amusement filling her as she helped you with the snaps on the bottom. “There.”

Taking your hands the raven gently sat you down on the floor, trying to ease your drop comfortably. She could tell you were well in littlespace at this point; you were quiet, shy, and squirmy. It was quite amusing. Wednesday knelt by your bed, retrieving the bin where she knew you kept your little gear. Finding the dinosaur pacifier you seemed to favor she raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for your nod before slipping it into your mouth. When you began to suckle she felt her gaze soften even more. The raven could’ve gone on for hours about her dislike of children but when it came to you being little… it felt different.

After clipping your pacifier to your onesie to prevent losing it she gave your hair a little ruffle, this time unable to suppress a smirk as she felt you melt into her hand. You were always so fond of touch in this state. “I assume you wouldn’t mind a bottle?”

Wednesday saw your eyes light up and she rolled her eyes softly, heading to the small makeshift dorm kitchen you possessed. A quick search of the cabinets was met with a few choice bottles you kept on hand. Choosing a simple fish patterned design she retrieved the carton of strawberry milk you kept in the minifridge, filling the bottle to a reasonable amount; if she had any hopes of getting you to bed later she did not want you having a sugar high.

Returning she handed you the bottle, watching you let the pacifier drop from your mouth to be replaced by the nipple. She took a seat comfortably on the rug, thinking for a moment about her next move; should she offer a bit of playtime or try to calm things down further?

Her thinking was interrupted by a warmth at her side and she looked down in mild surprise to see you snuggling up against her, looking up at her with big eyes. The raven only hesitated a moment before gently pulling you into her lap despite her small frame, wrapping her arms around you and murmuring into your ear, “good bambina.”

The rain drummed against the window of your dorm as she sat there with you, perfectly content watching you nurse from your bottle, holding you loosely to give you whatever comfort she could. She would stay the rest of the afternoon with you if you wished.

#wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednesday agere #sfw littlespace #sfw age regression #agere #cg wednesday #wednesday littlespace #wednesday x little reader

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youaintnothinbuta · 1 year

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elvis - “you know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes”

Summary: You are a big Elvis fan, you end up front row at one of his concerts and when it all gets too much, you just so happen to faint…into the kings arms ;)

Pairing: elvis or austin!elvis x reader

Word count: 1087

Warnings: Fluff, fainting/passing out

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It was mid July, 1956, only two weeks passed your 18th birthday and Elvis Presley was doing a concert in your city! You’d begged and begged your mama to let you go, she decided, since 18 was a special birthday, she’d get you a ticket for your birthday, so long as you promised her you’d go with someone.

You managed to squeeze yourself through crowds and crowds of people, fighting your way as politely as possible. You hadn’t gone with a friend because none of your friends really loved him the way you did, and didn’t want to run the risk of being slowed down or held back by anyone. Tonight was your night, your night to dance and sing and scream to your favourite songs in front of your most favourite person, without a care in the world.

When Elvis came out on stage a roar erupted from the crowd behind you, everyone gravitated towards him and you got smushed even harder between the barrier in front of the stage and the people behind you. You couldn’t have cared less, though, absolutely nothing could kill your mood. Elvis got to doing his thing, talking, exciting the crowd, singing of course, talking some more. You were having the absolute time of your life, Elvis was midway through “all shook up” and everybody was going wild in the audience with him. He knelt down at the edge of the stage, scanning his face by the row of people at the front, locking eyes with you for more than a second. You felt like your soul was being released from your body, his gaze just burnt you alive. Your body temperature was steadily rising, nothing unmanageable though, until you noticed your hearing slowly fade, quieter and quieter, until silence. You felt yourself physically weaker, crying at him as he held your jaw softly in one hand. Your vision started to narrow. It kept on narrowing, black nothing taking over the picture in front of you, until you’d completely lost sight. You felt yourself collapse, sort of, there wasn’t exactly enough room to fall but, your body fell as far as it could, as your mind shut down.

Your eyes fluttered open, a cool, damp towel was placed around your neck, you were laid down on a couch, your knees bent up, you assumed to keep the blood flow directed to your brain. Alone, you were, you sat up, perhaps too quickly as your vision started to fade again. You rested your head back down, turning it slightly, peering around the room. A vanity, clothes rack, coffee table by your side, a jacket. You reached for it, laying it over your legs, exploring it.

An initial embroidered on the chest caught your eye, and made your heart drop.

E.P.

“Oh my gosh, no, no.” You mumbled, shooting up, pulling the towel off from around your neck. Of course, the vanity, the clothes, you were in Elvis’ dressing room.

“Everything okay, little girl?” A man you’d never seen before poked his head around the door, asking you.

“Yes, thank you.” You nodded, stuttering slightly.

“You hang tight, E’s finishing up his last song, he’ll be down in a moment.”

E. As in Elvis. Was going to find you in his dressing room. Before you could say anything, he’d left. You just sat there, contemplating running away, anxiously waiting, your heart dropping at the sound of any footsteps passing by the door.

After what felt like hours, you heard that voice you knew all too well. Elvis’, you couldn’t possibly have mistook it for someone else. “Alright, give me a second just gotta check up on something.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, you wanted to give yourself one last chance to wake up from this dream as you heard his voice speak and a pair of footsteps walk into the room you were sat in, only assuming they belonged to said voice. Before he could even begin to say a word, you stood up, insisting you were in his way.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t think I’m meant to be in here, I’ll just—“

“Hey, hey, cool it, sweetheart. Sit back down.” He used his body to block yours from leaving, he had a glass of water in one hand, a wet, dripping towel in the other.

“Uh, Mr. Presley, I appreciate you being so kind but I’m alright, really.” You argued, though obeying his instructions.

"You fainted…straight into my arms. Had me drop the mic and everything for ya. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes." He smiled, sitting down next to you.

“I— I’m sorry.”

“Oh, give me none, only teasing you, sweetheart. Now tell me, what’s your name, honey?” He took the towel you’d had originally away from you, dropping it on the floor, gently draping the new, cold, wet one over your neck. Your hairs all stood on end at the feeling of such temperature, making you shiver. He placed a hand on your chest, slowly pushing you back to lay against his chest, he held the glass of water to your lips, tipping it slightly, encouraging you to take a sip. You did so, pushing his hand away when you’d had enough.

“Y/N.” You spoke.

“Well, Y/N, what happened? Was it the heat? Couldn’t breathe in the crowd? Was it me?”

“What?” You asked.

“Well I’m just curious, honey, what did it to ya?”

“All three, I guess.”

“I’ll take it.” He laughed. “Have you eaten, today, honey?”

You shook your head, with all the excitement about the concert, food wasn’t exactly top priority that day.

“Mm, that’ll do it, too. Make it all four. Would you like to come with us, have dinner? I wouldn’t feel right leavin’ ya in a state like this, not til I know you’re okay.”

“Mr Pres—”

“Elvis.” He corrected you.

“Elvis, I am okay, really.”

“Stand up, do a little spin for me.”

You stood up, quickly, wanting to prove to him you were fine, instead your hand quickly found his knee to prop yourself up as the world had gone black again after standing up too fast.

“Wanna give me a different answer?” He asked, reaching out to hold you as you caught balance.

“Yes, dinner would be wonderful, thank you.” You smiled, raising your eyebrows, regaining your vision.

“Good girl, come on, you stick with me tonight.” He stood up, encouraging you. You knew your parents were going to absolutely kill you when they found out about all of this, but Elvis Presley himself had seemed to take an interest in you, so that was the least of your concerns.

Part 2 (smut) coming soon!

MASTERLIST

#austin butler #austin!elvis x y/n #austin elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #austin!elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis presley

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srorgana1 · 7 months

Text

Invocation

Paring: Vampire Kylo/Hunter Rey

Warnings: Dark Themes (apporaching Dead Dove, you have been warned), Supernatural/Paranormal, Blood, Violence, Gore, Death, NSFW 18+, Sexual Content, Psychological and Physical Torture, Kidnapping, Hatred towards organized religion, Pain, Major/Minor character death/injury, Demonic Possession

Chapter Nineteen

As they head down a darkened hallway, Kylo’s mind continues to reel. He has Rey in his arms once again. It was like they never were interrupted. The situation is different now. He had to be responsible and show Rey how to use and control her powers even though all he wanted to do is kiss and taste her.

He feels her groan and slump onto him. “Kylo what…what is happening?” “I’m sorry Rey this is my fault” Kylo says pulling her closer “but can you try something for me?” Her eyes meet his as he stops them in the hallway by the bunker door. “I need to you to focus on making a bubble around us. A protective barrier” he says as he runs his fingers across her jaw. “Can you try for me?”

She nods and focuses, her mind instantly visualizing an iridescent shield like the bubbles she used to blow on the front steps of the orphanage when she was a child. She always thought they were so delicate and beautiful. Behind her eyes, she can see the shield closing around them, dulling everything around them. “Good girl” he whispers “keep going, you’re almost there.”

His voice distracts her concentration, making it weaken a bit. “Focus cyar’ika” he says as he types in the passcode. She opens her eyes, willing her bubble to solidify. She can now physically see the shimmery shield surrounding her and Kylo. She hears him chuckle, opening the heavy door for her.

She walks in and looks around the large conference room as the mechanical locks click and hiss behind her. She had been in here once before when The Order had to lock down when she was younger. She looks around. If she remembers right, the kitchen is to the left and the studio apartments are to the right…

She feels two strong arms wrap around her torso and a pair of soft lips kiss behind her ear. Her magick swirls and peaks happily at his attention. “I can feel the shield, do you still see it?” he says, placing another kiss on her neck. She hums as she looks around. Strange. She can’t see it anymore but she can feel it.

“I feel it, but I-I can’t see it. Is that good?” she asks, turning her head. “Yes, that means it’s stable. Your magick is like your body, it craves hemostasis. Your shield stabilizes your magick and protects it. It’s one of the first things young ones learn” he says as he lightly rocks her side to side.

Her brain swirls with questions and for once she has someone to ask them to. She sniffles at the thought. “What’s wrong?” he says softly. “’I’ve had so many questions for so long and no one to ask them to. I’ve tried so many times and just got pushed aside” she says, her voice full of emotion.

He growls and squeezes her tighter to him. “That will never happen again, I promise you” he says, spinning her around. Her wide watery eyes meet his as he picks her up by her thighs, her body wrapping around his as he walks through the conference room to the lounge by the apartments. He sits down on the wrap around sofa allowing her to settle on his lap. Her legs relax as he wrap his arms around her.

“Okay go” he says, looking up at her. What? Rey was so confused as she sniffed and wiped her eyes. He smirked apparently able to read her face. “Ask me anything. Anything at all” he says as he traces random patterns on her lower back. She can feel her anxiety lessening with every pass of his fingertips.

She shifts on his lap, releasing a long breath. His face remains the same but his eyes flicker slightly. A shiver of arousal goes up her spine at the feeling of him hardening under her. She clears her throat and shakes her head, making herself concentrate on her questions.

“W-when I’m sensing other people, am I feeling their shields or their actual magick?” she asks. “It’s their shields. Now shields can be manipulated by intent but it is still quintessentially their magical signature. When you feel a spike it’s because of an intense emotional or physical response” he says, his hands skimming her sides. “Some people are easier to read then others, most often due to proximity or intimacy. You get to a point where you can read the small fluctuations.”

She thinks back, wondering if she ever experienced that. Her mind immediately goes to Jyn and the other Hunters in her cohort. She has worked with so often that she could tell their mood without having to ask. “You’ve been able to do that already haven’t you?” Kylo says, smirking up at her.

She smiles slightly, silently answering his question. “Now Rey, I want you take your shield off me. It can be taxing to hold another person in for extended period of time. I want you to take a breath and try” he says as he rests his hands on her hips. He can feel her magick shift slightly at the thought of leaving him. “Rey, just try. I’m not going anywhere.”

Rey takes a breath as she takes in the devilishly handsome man under her. Her resolve is weaning. She wants him physically as much as she wants the answers to her questions. A fun little idea pops in her head.

“Okay but once I do, you have to tell me what I’m feeling and sensing” she says, her hands slowly slide up his chest and make a home around his neck. His eyes darken a bit at her touch. “Okay” he say as his hands dip lower, his fingertips lightly ghosting her ass.

She smiles as she shuts her eyes, happy to see the iridescent shimmer reappear. She envisions the shield wrapping around her and her alone like a snug cocoon. Where no one can hurt me, a voice in her head says. She pushes past her insecurities and watches her magick listen to her command.

Before she can open her eyes, Kylo slams his lips into hers. It’s passionate and messy. Their teeth clack together and tongues fight for dominance. “Good girl” he groans as he wraps a strong arm around her back while the other holds the back of her head. Rey sighs into him, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she grinds down on him.

“Kylo you didn’t answer me” she says in between kisses. He hums against her lips, smirking. “I think you are feeling the same thing I am. Passion. Power. Magick” he growls as he kisses along her jaw and focus on her neck again. She shivers, knowing what he is saying is true. She gasps as his tongue traces one of her lines on her neck, making them spark.

She grips him hard, her nails digging into his flesh as he continues to trace her lines. “Kylo” she whimpers as her hips rub against him. “You want me here cyar’ika? You want me to take you like this?” he whispers into her ear as he grabs a handful of her ass.

She moans out a yes, her body reacting both physically and magically. She’s never experienced anything like this before. She growls as she pulls off her sweater, exposing her thin bralette. “Please Kylo” she says desperately.

His resolve seems to snap at her plea as he all but throws her onto the cushions. He crowds her capturing her lips as he rips off his shirt and flings it backwards. He’s so big. Her hands instantly go to his back, her nails pressing into his pale skin as he kisses and nips at her.

Rey moans again when she feels his hand snake between them and tug at her pants. “Needy lil Fae” he mumbles as he kisses down her neck. He nips at her collarbone as she lifts her hips allowing him to pull them down past her ass and thighs. She shifts them off along with her now useless panties as he turns to his attention to belt and zipper.

She is quickly pulled up again and place on his lap again. She groans along with him as the head of his cock rubs against her wet core. She grips his hair, shifting herself over him. “Fuck” he growls, hands clamping down on her hips as she brushes against him again.

She doesn’t get a chance to move again because he slams her down onto him. She lets out a scream of pleasure and pain as her body reacts to the intrusion. He is so big. She is so full of him. “Fuck Rey” he moans into her neck. She shifts her hips in his hands, whimpering at the delicious feeling of him.

His hips rock in response, allowing her to feel every glorious inch of him as he laves at her neck. It’s a dangerous combination and she wants more. “Harder Kylo” she whimpers. He growls lowly against her neck “Is that what my little Fae wants? To be fucked hard?” She keens as she nods, biting her lower lip.

The pace he sets is punishing, hand clutched to her thigh and fingers beginning to stray towards her dripping center. Her mouth drops open, panting and moaning as his angle hits her g-spot perfectly. She feels her lines raise as his fingers brush against her clit.

“Kylo, yes” she gasps, digging her nails into his back as she begins to meet his thrusts with her own. He looks up from her neck, reveling in the beautiful faces of pleasure she is making. “Look at you” he grits around his fangs as he slams her down once more. He can feel her fluttering around him. He wraps an arm around her, holding her in place as he changes the angle.

Her cries increase in frequency and volume as he readies the spot on her neck. “Rey I need to” he huffs as he fights off his impending orgasm. He needs to feel her fall apart before he bites.

“Yes Kylo do it please” she keens, squeezing her eyes shut. “Let go Rey, come for me” he says, nipping lightly. Her body instantly seizes up in bliss as his teeth break her skin. She screams as she climaxes, her magick explodes around him.

It's a mind altering experience for him. Their magick pulses in sensual waves around him. Her blood fizzes and pops on his tongue as he swallows it down. He’s never had anything like it. He moans, clutching her closer to him. He can hear her continued gasps and moans of bliss as he presses his tongue down, allowing more blood to flow to his month.

He swallows another mouthful. Her hands are everywhere. She grips and pulls the hair on the back of his head with one of those perfect small hands. She’s pulling him towards her not away. She wants this as much as he does. He groans as she babbles nonsense, her body squeezing him like a vice. He grunts as he fucks and feeds off her like he had dreamt of so many times.

A soft gasp in his ear is what ruins him. He groans loudly, releasing inside of her. His hips slow as he shifts back onto the couch cushions, allowing a fully fucked and blissed out Rey to lay on him as he removes his fangs gently. She hums as he kissed the spot clean, closing it up with a couple licks.

He nuzzles her hairline as she does the same on his chest, his cock softening inside her. “How do you feel?” he says into her hair. “Hmmm happy” she slurs, laying her head fully on his chest. He smiles because he can feel it in her magick. It dances happily in the air around them.

“Rey do you want to sit up so you don’t get dizzy?” he says softly. She hums again, but doesn’t move. He smiles as he sits up, supporting her weight as he stands. She groans as he slips out, their combined fluids soaking his thighs. He doesn’t mind though as he holds her tight to him, turning towards the apartments.

He reaches the first room, opening the unlocked door. It’s simplistic but enough. A king sized bed and a modern looking bathroom. He heads to the bed and deposits her onto the soft sheets.

She immediately relaxes into the bed curling up on her side. He smiles as he rounds the bed, climbing in behind her and pulling her close. He hears her hum again and melts into his chest. Sweet girl, he thinks, kisses her temple as he covers them both with a blanket. She’s so warm. He shuts his eyes, allowing himself to drift off to sleep as their magick swirls softly around them.

It's offically spooky season all 🦇☠️🎃 my favorite time of year 😁😁

A huge thank you to everyone for taking the time to follow/read - I appreciate you for the bottom of my heart ❤️❤️❤️

As always huge thanks to my Beta @mrs-zimmerman for dealing with me lol ❤️

#adam driver #knights of ren #kylo ren au #kylo ren #vampire kylo #vampire au #kylo x rey #kylo ren x rey #hunter rey #reylo #reylo au #reylo smut #reylo fanfic #star wars au #Spotify

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oliverreedmasterass · 8 months

Text

Chapter Summary: Jake and Kelly but heads. Rae is like 98% sure she's gonna die.

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: blood/wounds, violence

Notes: Thank you to @infinisonicosm for the fic idea! Also so sorry for the shorter chapter, I'm hoping to post a lot more this week because things are heating up!

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Rae looked at Kelly in fear from her knees, and Jake held a hand down to help her back to her feet. As Rae shakily stood upright, Sam leaned into her side.

“Tell him you’re a fairy,” he whispered. Rae knew that Kelly would see straight through that lie and didn’t feel like testing her luck, especially since she was so numb to everything around her. Kelly looked at her expectantly, an eyebrow raised with his broad arms crossed over his chest. Rae opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“She's a friend of mine,” Jake answered for her. Rae was grateful that he spoke up, but she was nervous by how soft his voice was when he addressed his father. It was apparent that this was something that didn’t come naturally to Jake, and he was terrified out of his mind. That, of course, didn’t make Rae feel great.

“A friend, huh?” Kelly cocked his head to the side. He took in a deep inhale and Rae winced. The truth was going to come out whether any of them liked it or not. “A human friend,” Kelly concluded, his face crestfallen. “How much does she know?”

“She knows what she needs to know,” Jake said to his feet.

“Jake,” Kelly growled, “Don’t tell me you did it again.”

Jake’s eyes remained glued to the foliage laying limply on the ground.

“It’s mistake after mistake with you, you should know better at your age, after all you’ve been through, after all you’ve put your pack through,” Kelly continued, his face growing progressively more red. The more Kelly talked, the more Jake retracted deeper and deeper into himself, practically folding into a ball to hide away from his father. “When will you learn?” Kelly demanded.

Jake shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, unable to utter a word.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” Kelly continued. “I really don’t. I wish you knew the troubles you’ve caused me, all the sleepless nights.”

“Kelly, ease up,” Karen tried to tell him, though her words didn’t reach Kelly. He was now facing Rae, which made her heart thunder in her chest. If he had passed Rae on the sidewalk, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but having his piercing green eyes focused on her sent shivers rattling through her body.

“I’m sorry it has to end this way, but it will be fast,” Kelly told her, his voice gruff and frustrated, like he had to complete a tedious task. “I sincerely apologize for my son’s carelessness.”

“Dad!” Jake yelped out in horror.

Faster than Rae could react, Kelly transformed. He bent over with a grunt and, as he straightened back upright, Rae watched patches of fur unravel from his skin, expanding outwards with his growing muscles. By the time Kelly was done, Rae was gaping up at a 10 foot tall wolf, standing on his hind paws, glaring down at Rae with red eyes.

“Oh fuck,” she whispered. This was the first time that she was really and truly feeling over her head.

Beside Rae, Jake sprung to action. His newly hairy body leapt in front of her and stood like a barrier, separating her from his bloodthirsty father with his claws out and ready.

“Jake, move,” Kelly growled in a low rumble. Jake silently held his ground.

Beside Rae, she noticed that Sam was keeled over, grunting and panting.

“Hey, no need to force it, kid,” Josh told him.

“I need to help Jake,” Sam sputtered out, still trying to change.

“You need to stop or you’re gonna burst something in your brain,” Josh countered.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Jake, get out of the way,” Kelly said. “You know this has to happen.”

“Kelly!” Karen hollered, rushing to stand in front of Kelly with her arms up. “It doesn’t.”

Kelly had a gargantuan paw held up, ready to swipe through his son in order to get to Rae, but he held it in place the moment he noticed Karen in front of him.

“Drop it, Kelly,” Karen told him with a level of authority that even Rae felt she had to abide by. Kelly continued to hold his arm up in the attack position, but stood stiff, unable to move, his ears focused on Karen. “The girl deserves to live, she’s as much a part of this problem as we are now,” Karen spoke firmly. “Our pact with the town leaders no longer matters. They have punished us, so there is nothing at stake. We need to focus on saving our nest, our pack.”

These words finally reached Kelly because, in a whoosh, he was back to his human form, his face scrunched, deep in thought.

As everyone waited to hear his response, Rae finally took in Jake’s wolf form, which was still stationed in front of her. Though she couldn’t see the front of him, his frame had grown significantly, impressively toned and wide-shouldered. His coat was a similar caramel shade to his normal hair color, and the gashes and wounds from his run-in with the mysterious beast were still visible, appearing as rivers and canyons in his thick fur.

“You’re right,” Kelly sighed. “We have bigger fish to fry.”

With that, Jake turned back to give Rae a reassuring smile. It was strange to see on the face of a wolf with razor sharp teeth, but his eyes were familiar, and Rae smiled back. Jake tightened his fists together, squeezed his eyes shut, and then shrunk back down to his human size.

“Are you okay?” he whispered to Rae. Rae definitely wasn’t, considering that she had nearly been killed by a werewolf, there was a murderous beast wandering through the woods, and her brother had been taken, but she nodded back at him. Jake glimpsed beside Rae at Sam and frowned when he saw his younger brother still struggling to turn.

“Hey, don’t force it, Sammy,” Jake called to him.

“I should be able to transform!” Sam grunted back, still trying. “You could turn when you were my age, I can feel it within me, I just need to push it out.”

“Please don’t do that,” Josh looked down at Sam in worry.

“It’ll come when it needs to,” Jake assured his younger brother. As Jake went over to comfort Sam, Kelly looked at Karen with a glimmer in his eye, which Rae found to be odd.

“You’ve still got it, huh?” Kelly asked as he bumped shoulders with Karen, who was smirking back at him. “You still know how to work your charm on me. Was that some hypnosis you threw in there?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Karen replied with a small grin. Rae looked over at Josh, who was watching the same interaction, and they both exchanged confused glances. From everything that Rae had heard about the vampire nest and werewolf pack in Frankenmuth, they weren’t exactly chummy with each other. Vampires had killed Jake and Sam’s mom, and Rae could only imagine what other conflicts the two groups had. Therefore it was peculiar that Kelly and Karen seemed like they were pretty familiar with one another.

Kelly and Karen shared an extended look at one another which finally caught Jake and Sam’s attention. Jake had been giving Sam a comforting rub on the back but stopped and stared at his father with wide eyes, like he was committing some kind of crime. Sam, on the other hand, watched his father and Karen with deep fascination and then, to Rae’s surprise, seemed to light up as if something had struck him. He watched between them with a newfound grin.

It felt as if they could have continued standing in place like that forever, trapped as a tableau, but a sound began to grow beneath their feet as the ground trembled. They all snapped their heads down to study the earth, which was shaking more violently, the dirt expanding and contracting around them. The deep groan of the soil grew louder, and then they looked around at each other in panic when an animalistic howl sounded from the hole Jake had dug.

The thing that had taken Morgan and Danny was close by.

“We need to break through the ice. Now,” Jake was the first to speak, pointing back at the hole.

As a group, they stumbled over the moving ground to the hole and stared down into it. It seemed as if it had gotten deeper since Jake was last in it, like a tunnel leading down to nothingness. Rae’s stomach turned in worry, but then Morgan’s face flashed in her mind. Whatever it took, she was going to get him back.

Whatever it took.

****

Taglist:@lvnterninthenight, @writingcold, @myownparadise96, @i-choose-the-road, @psychedelicsprinkles, @mama-likes72, @ascendingtothestarssasone

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #the frozen light #gvf werewolf au #gvf vampire au

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yuurei-20 · 7 months

Text

GOJOHIME DRABBLE 6.0

Note: this was set after chapter 356. A self-indulgent drabble and headcanon after learning the news of this chapter. I don't know how Japanese funeral works and I wasn't able to research it, so I don't know their way of blessing a funeral and just rely on my imagination that they might be blessed in a shrine (like how in my culture are blessed in the Church by a priest during the ceremony).

Gojo's body was brought to the shrine altar and Utahime performed a ritual. Everyone were watching - watching his body be blessed to avoid turning into a cursed spirit, before the actual funeral. Suddenly, blood pooled down from Utahime. Shoko was shocked and called her out of worry. She tries to approach her but was stopped by a barrier. Why is there a barrier? Anxiety and confusion, Utahime's students also tried to pass through the barrier but was also stopped. They were shouting her name, but she still keeps going, blood still flowing out. It runs directly to where Gojo is. All of them were shocked. Shoko, still wide eyed and tears starting to apepear, was about to destroy the barrier but Ichiji stopped her. Ichiji explained to Shoko that he was the one who put up the barrier because Utahime requested it. She asked him to make it counter everyone so they won't be able to enter. Shoko told him to take it down then, but Ichiji said no. He made a binding vow with Utahime as an alternate way for him to keep him out the veil too. "WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING?? WHY IS SHE DYING??" Ichiji gulped and took a deep breath before answering Shoko, who is now enraged. "She's doing a ritual by giving her life as a way to boost Gojo-san extremely slow RCT, so that he woullld return back alive...I-I'm sorry." As Ichiji finished his sentence, Utahime's body suddenly enveloped in flames. Her body's burning.

In exchange of her life, her technique will boost to surpass its limits, to help Gojo's brain increase its RCT output.

Utahime starts to disintegrate, and said her farewell to everyone and told them to take care of him. And she turns into dust - leaving only a single bell that fell from her wrist. Its sound felt like a last farewell from her.

In the airport, Gojo stood up making his decision where to go and said "See you guys later!" As he is about to pass through the entrance of his choice, he saw a glimpse of a familiar hair color. He turned to get a clear look from it but it disappeared. He shrugged and continued his way.

The ones left in the waiting area were surprised to see who the new person that came. Geto chuckled and shakes his head, "Senpai, how can you be so cruel." Everyone around him agreed to him. She gave them a soft sad smile, "It's okay...for the sake of everyone, it has to be done. I bet he'll get himself up eventually, cause he's the srongest."

#gojohime #gouta #五歌 #late post 6.0 #this drabble is somewhat connected with drabbles 4.0 and 5.0 #because they're done chronologically

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theretirementstory · 1 month

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My goodness, how has the last day of March come round so quickly? It is Easter Sunday too, the traditional day for giving Easter eggs, all those children running around “hyper” from too much chocolate!

I was hospitalised on Monday, had a catheter fitted in my femoral artery and had an early night as I was to wake up at 4am, washed breakfasted and be ready for the taxi to pick me up at 5am to take me to the hospital in Paris. Once again I was having cells collected, not stem cells this time but cells which will be engineered to fight the cancer cells in my body. Oh well will find out more as the procedure rolls along.

It was a grey day for the journey, which was a shame as the chauffeur drove me alongside the Seine, there were some gorgeous houses.

We went through the commune of Vincennes, where I spotted the Hippodrome de Vincennes (the Racecourse) recognised by the white railings as seen at Redcar, The Knavesmire etc. We then passed the Château de Vincennes, it was difficult to photograph through a rain spattered window. Then in the distance I saw the Barriere du trône we drove right past them too. I love these trips into Paris where the chauffeur always wants to highlight some of the lesser known sights.

When I arrived, on foot, at the hospital the nurse tutted! I should have been on a trolley (I knew this from before) but was pleased that my taxi company had sent a car. However, as he was unsure where I wanted to be, we parked up, walked to one place then had a longer walk to where I needed to be. She asked if I had had breakfast, said yes at 4am, so she brought me another breakfast which I thoroughly enjoyed.

My blood was collected, the nurse kept asking if I wanted the tv on, don’t know why as I slept almost all day. I was concerned about the chauffeur, how was he filling his day? How tired would he be for the journey back? I needn’t have worried, they cater for this at the hospital, he too had slept and was refreshed for the journey back. There were more sights to see on the way back through Paris, no good trying to get photos, but I did see “Eglise du Saint-Esprit de Paris” and the “Fontaines aux Lions” which is very impressive albeit being used as a roundabout. Our homeward journey was in torrential rain, you couldn’t see tail lights until you were almost on the vehicle! However he kept the speedo on 141 k/hr in the 130 zone and we made good progress 😂😂.

The chemo they had given at the end of February had done what was asked of it, so the Doctor in Paris said another session of chemo would be given. This was done over three days and I gave up pestering to be allowed home as I realise that by keeping me here any transfusions or injections that need to be given can be administered promptly and they are just safeguarding me. Although I had an injection to boost white blood cells yesterday, I was surprised when the doctor said this morning that it had risen from 2,000/? to 20,000 in one day. I told her I had had pain in my bones, shoulders, back etc and she said that was as a result of the white cells, not that I am a doctor, but it may have something to do with bone marrow. She said I should have asked for pain relief, I said it wasn’t that bad, I managed to sleep, but I know in future. The nurses are always checking with me for pain but I think I am on enough flipping meds so will only request it if it becomes too severe.

The catheter came out about three days after it was put in, certainly comes out easier than going in! I have had to have a test on my brain functions, it was ok, painless and listening to music at one point I was trying to think of the English words to a song and almost missed the commands to open and close my eyes. I have the date for an MRI scan and another PET scan, all of which are needed by Paris before the reintroduction of the cells.

I feel a little like Lyndsay Wagner in “The Bionic Woman” or maybe I will do when they put these engineered cells back into me!

I have had platelet and red cell transfusions this week and all I can say is “thank you” to the people who donate these.

Friday the food was abysmal, I hardly ate anything! Monique messaged, she would buy foodstuff and bring it to the hospital. I asked for cheese and ham baguette and a tuna salad sandwich, unfortunately she couldn’t get the tuna sandwich so brought three quiche, tuna and tomato, goats cheese and spinach and a leek one. I ate thé goats cheese one, ate half of the tuna and tomato and have the leek one to have at lunchtime if I fancy it. She also brought me a gorgeous cake, sponge with patisserie cream and fresh raspberries it was delicious! Plus, apples, pears, bananas, oranges and mandarins I certainly have plenty of fruit to keep me going!

The music choices this week start with Elton John, my personal favourite is “Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word” but as a family we loved to sing along to a track first released in 1979 then made Number 1 in 2003, it is “Are You Ready For Love”.

I really hope that I haven’t had this Fleetwood Mac track before as it was a toss up between “Big Love” and this track “Go Your Own Way”, which is from the “Rumours” album of 1977.

So the long Easter holiday break in the UK usually sees people spending their time sorting out the garden, doing DIY etc and for “The Trainee Solicitor” and “The Reconnect Navigator” they have really taken this on board. One of the hedges has been successfully trimmed back, there has been a massive clear out, floors washed and everywhere given a big spring clean. It could be the turn of the partially blocked drain today (weather permitting) I am also wondering if the hydrangeas from last year are putting out leafy buds? There was a friends birthday to celebrate yesterday, so hope there are no sore heads this morning.

“The Photographer” and “The Jetsetter” snapped a photo of one of my old homes. Memories flooded back and I was surprised I could remember so many names of school friends and other friends from the mid to late sixties. Some of these friends I even remembered their addresses! Just goes to show I don’t have a lot to tax my brain at the moment 😂😂.

The weather here is grey, damp and cold, it looks as if the North East of England has had blue skies and some sunshine even if it has been cool too. I have had messages from the US, one from my friend who has had treatment for breast cancer, she is thrilled that her PET scan is clear, I am thrilled for her too! Hopefully, she will return soon to her beautiful home in Bar-sur-Aube. The other friend had been to see Billy Joel in New York, his special guest was Gordon Sumner better known as Sting! This was a lovely surprise as my friend is from North East England so a “local lad” on stage was a bonus.

I am going to finish reading my second book today (only brought two with me) then no doubt I will just read social media and news on-line although that just seems to be full of doom and gloom. I can also listen to some music although don’t think I will be jigging about as I am getting plenty of exercise visiting the bathroom regularly!

So I wish you all a Happy Easter Day, don’t eat too many chocolate eggs, have a good day tomorrow too before the start of another four day week.

Until next week!

#barsuraube #Troyes #paris france #Parisiansights #photography #70’s music #nycity #family #friends #easter

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emmylous-world · 1 year

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Inferno - pt.1/?

《SUMMARY》

♤ Jason has a crisis ♤

Devil!Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1k

A/N: This is so short I'm sorry, but life yk, This has been on my mind for a while now, just Jason sitting on hell's throne all sexy and stuff. I wanna thank my good friend Serv, for helping me with this *Disclaimer: Due to ADHD, the chapters are going to be short, but the series will be long and not edited or proofread*

Warnings: swearing, violence, blood, mature subjects

•♤♡♤•

Jason sat in the dining hall, alone and in silence, the room was grand and dark, with pillars of black marble all over the room, and the floor was shiny black tile, matching the king's dark soul. Tall, brightly lit candles and upturned animal skulls full of wilted roses were arranged along the long dark wood table. Sat before him was Jason's dinner; Lamb, a joke, a reference to the saying of the devil feeding off of virgins, and since humans were gods' sheep and he was their shepherd, the lambs were the virgins. He picked up a shiny set of utensils and cut through the steak, he sat in silence, simply allowing him to wallow in his thoughts.

The day started with Jason waking to a knock on his door and then one of his servants calling him done to the grand hall to access the recent events, a ward barrier on the far east side of Hell was cracked and was being invaded by creatures of unknown kind. He sent patrol groups out to scout the invaders, which caused Jason to go into a frenzy, barking orders and losing his temper, maybe after dinner, his lover Emma would help him get his frustrations out, with soft touches, her whimpers, and moans. Jason got up after drinking the last of the red wine and wiping the lamb sauce from his lips. He headed towards his chambers, hopefully, to fuck the brains of Emma, but right now, tonight, he had to take, to feel like Hell, his kingdom isn’t falling apart, and he was desperate for it; control.

“I need Emma?” he snaps on his way out. His black robe drags on the floor behind him while he makes his way down the halls. Once at his chambers, he threw off his robe and shirt, letting the chilly air hit his skin, he sighed, he liked the cold, the feel of the chill down the spine and into the bones. But Emma hated the cold, he knelt down and lightly blew on the logs, putting them ablaze. He poured himself a glass of scotch and sat at his desk, flipping through letters and files, nothing appealing or interesting showed themselves to him. He pulled out a pen and a slip of paper, jotted down some notes, and his thoughts about the day; well what the underworld considers a day. He put down his pen and sat back in his chair, rubbing his hands down his face with a huff and a groan. He got up from the desk, threw back the last of the scotch, and walked over to the fireplace. He poured himself another scotch and sat down in one of the armchairs, waiting for Emma. A half hour or so had passed when a soft knock on the door and his

“Come in” he gruffly spoke.

“My Lord, you call?” Emma’s voice sang, she then gracefully walked over, standing before him, in all her glory. In her light blue nightgown, her golden curly hair was pinned up, strands falling down the sides of her face. She shone so brightly making the glooming place of the underworld not seem so gloomy.

“I heard about the wards in the south,” she ran her hands down his biceps “Any news, what has the council have to say?” He looked up at her, you could almost see him crack, the sear pressure of his world falling apart put on his shoulders. Instead of responding, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her deeply, He felt it down to his bones, his shoulders released and he ran his hand up her back and took out her hairpin, letting the bronze curls fall into her his. He could smell her soap, lavender, and honey, where she got it in this damned place, he didn’t care, her scent drove him mad with desire. He pulled her in closer to him, her breasts flushed against his chest. Gasping her name over and over again.

Jason sat against the headboard, a book in his lap and a cigar between his lips. Emma was sound asleep beside him, all wrapped up in the blankets, soft snores falling from her lips. The room was dim, the only light coming from the lamp on the nightstand, the walls were dark mahogany, the curtains were black and the floor was black marble. On the other side of the room was a set of french doors leading to a balcony, they were opened, letting a breeze in. He wished he could stay there forever, in peace. he took a drag, from his cigar, filling his lungs with smoke, he closed his eyes, relishing the moment.

Jason closed his book, and softly brushed his hands through Emma's hair. He got up and walked over to the balcony. The view from above was magnificent, the rugged fire rock mountains, spitting ash and hellfire surrounding the fields, and the castle itself was black stone, it was old, it had sat in the valley for hundreds of thousands of years. Jason put his hands on the railing, it was rough under his palms, and the wind was cold on his bare chest. Goosebumps rose all over his arms, making Jason shiver, the stone was rugged under his bare feet. Jason ran his hand over his face, he was restless, sleep wouldn’t come no matter how much he tried, because dark things haunted his mind, putting him in a place viler than his kingdom. He wanted to scream, he pushed off the rail and went back inside. He went to the closet and changed into a pair of sweats and a black tank, once changed he filled up a water bottle and headed to the gym.

The gym was big and dim, just how Jason likes it. He went straight to the punching bag, wrapping his hands in boxing tape, and went at it at the bag, letting the pent-up frustration and rage onto the bag. Hours spent at the bag, knuckles bleeding until the nonexistent sun rose.

#jason todd fanfiction #jasontodd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd angst #jason peter todd #redhood #dc characters #dc comic #devil!jason #red hood imagine #jason todd x you

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cleric-posting · 4 months

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Aw, your sick today?? Let me play you the world's smallest violi- OW! SHIT! It slipped under my fingernail! FUCK! GODDAMNIT!SHIT!FUCK!OW!...

...yeah it just passed through the blood brain barrier.

#worlds smallest violin #cleric posting

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rlyehtaxidermist · 1 year

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fuck it, midgley discourse in my notes, we ball.

Time to talk about one of my favourite regulatory archdevils, Dr. Robert Arthur Kehoe.

I love that this is his Wikipedia photo. The slightly raised eyebrow. The faint but noticable cheekbones. The level, slightly superior expression. Even just the angle of the shot. This is a man who’s about to give a gloating monologue to James Bond.

Kehoe was a medical doctor with a specialty in toxicology and one of the early lions of what we now call “occupational health” - that is, what does and doesn’t make a workplace a safe place to work in. At the time, this was basically an open question - the first worker’s compensation laws only went on the books in the 1880s, and were often scrambling to respond to health risks. OSHA isn’t even a twinkle in the eye of the ten-year-old and politically uncomplicated Richard Nixon, whose family lemon plantation just failed.

The Background

This lack of occupational health standards is rapidly becoming a big problem for a “little” company called the Ethyl Gasoline Corporation (actually a corporate chimera of General Motors, Standard Oil of New Jersey - who you now know as Exxon, and DuPont - who you now might still know as DuPont but is also a few other companies, it’s complicated). Workers at Ethyl’s plants were suffering from neurological disorders, which culminated in the deaths of five workers, injury to many more, and at least one worker, Joseph G. Leslie, being secretly committed to a psychiatric institution by the company, who publicly declared him dead.

See, Ethyl (through GM) owned the patent to a little chemical called tetraethyllead, which was being promoted as the solution to engine knocking - a performance issue in older automobiles. Ethyl’s CEO, Charles Kettering, had previously been GM’s head of research, where he had tasked a talented but retroactively very unfortunate chemist by the name of Charles Midgley, Jr. with developing a compound to combat knocking.

Midgley first figured out that a blend of ethanol with the gasoline would help solve the problem. GM did not like this, because ethanol was so easy to make that they’d never turn a profit on producing ethanol-blended gasoline. So Kettering told Midgley to try again, and he did - he found a tellurium compound that would work great for solving knocking. It stank to high heaven, so GM said no, try again, and finally Midgley settled on tetraethyllead, and GM immediately patented it for use in fuels.

Tetraethyllead had some downsides. It is mostly known today for its environmental effects, particularly the massive scale of lead poisoning from lead and lead oxide emissions caused by TEL combustion. These weren’t really in the picture in the 1920s, where concerns about large-scale environmental impacts of industrialisation were considered a fringe view or even outright pseudoscientific. Instead, the issue was the toxicity of TEL itself - it was already known to be far more poisonous than lead or lead oxides, as the organic structure of the compound allowed it to pass the blood-brain barrier, where it would then break down and cause lead poisoning to set in extremely quickly.

It’s this exposure to TEL that caused the initial controversy, and lead to things like the infamous publicity stunt where Midgley dunked his hands in leaded gasoline and took a big ol’ sniff to prove how safe it was, never mind that he had just been recovering from lead poisoning weeks earlier. Even if TEL is dangerous, claimed Midgley, finished Ethyl gasoline was perfectly safe for consumers - officially, the problem was that workers weren’t following adequate safety standards. He would also repeatedly deny the existence of any appropriate alternatives to TEL, including the two that he had previously suggested to GM and the several other alternatives used by rival fuel companies domestic and international.

Kettering and Midgley’s public statements are contradicted by private correspondence, which detailed several alternatives including ethanol. That said, these concerns were all about the toxicity of tetraethyllead, not the combustion byproducts which would later give it its infamy. There is some also dispute as to the extent that Kettering and Midgley viewed TEL as the ultimate solution to knocking, or an intermediate fuel to allow the economic development of high-compression motors that could be converted to run on ethanol - though this was motivated not by environmental concerns, but the growing belief that gasoline supplies would soon be depleted. (Of course, that wasn’t the case.)

My general view of Midgley as a scientist is that he came up with genuinely brilliant solutions to the problems he was posed, that happened to have large-scale ecological effects he couldn’t have anticipated. But he certainly wasn’t some hapless victim in this either, and was at the very least the direct architect of TEL’s version of the “no alternatives” narrative, which helped shut down early investigations into the dangers of TEL.

But this isn’t about Midgley. Let’s introduce our main man.

The Safety Doctor

“During the entire history of man on this earth, he has had lead in his body. He has had lead in his food, he has had lead in his drinking water... the question is not whether lead per se is dangerous, but whether a certain concentration of lead in his body is dangerous.“

- Robert A. Kehoe, Antiknock compounds and public health.

If the official line at Ethyl was that the workers were to blame for everything, the private line was clearly that they needed better safety standards. To this end, Kettering hired a toxicologist named Robert Arthur Kehoe as the company’s chief medical consultant. Kehoe’s job was to research the impact of TEL on workers and improve safety procedures - which he did. This made him a leading figure in the emerging field of occupational health - working for a major chemical company was less a conflict of interest and more proof of expertise.

Kehoe would found the Kettering Laboratory of Applied Physiology, touted as the “first university-based laboratory devoted to toxicological problems peculiar to industry”. Named for Kettering, it would be financed primarily by Ethyl, DuPont, and GM, and it would come to define the early approach to science and occupational health.

After Kehoe’s changes were implemented, experts studied garage workers who were expected to be exposed to TEL. The review found some concerns with blood health, but no major signs of lead poisoning; while the question of environmental exposure was raised, the study was grounded in Ethyl’s own laboratory results, which claimed that only 15% of the lead in gasoline could be found in emissions (with another 15% being found in engine oil, and the remaining 70%... assumed to stay in the engine). This was accepted at face value without any independent sampling of street-level lead.

The committee concluded there was no reason to ban leaded gasoline - however, they called for continued investigation, as well as research into alternatives to tetraethyllead - particularly ethyl alcohol. These requests were ignored.

Kehoe soon became the go-to expert for the lead industry, and developed the early doctrine for testing dangers of exposure in the workplace. Kehoe worked from the baseline assumption that, if a compound existed, people would naturally be exposed to it in some capacity - the burden then lay on determining the dose where this became a problem.

The origin of this doctrine is sometimes attributed to Midgley, but its application in a legal and regulatory sense would become known as the Kehoe Rule: regulation is appropriate “if it can be shown that an actual danger is had as a result on the basis of fact”, but that technology should not “be thrown into the discard on the basis of opinions”. Kehoe’s “facts” were rooted in a simple chain of deductions:

As lead exists in nature, people are exposed to it naturally.

As people do not all have lead poisoning, the body must then have means to counteract lead poisoning.

Thus, there is some baseline level of lead exposure which the body is capable of handling without lasting harm.

Thus, leaded gasoline is only a risk if it can be shown that emissions exceed that baseline level.

Environmental samples seemed to support Kehoe’s argument. There was a baseline level of lead in the environment, even using ice and soil samples deep enough to predate industrialisation, and people had greater exposure to lead from food or drink than from the atmosphere. Kehoe and his colleagues conducted studies on human subjects to determine the “safe” threshold - defined as the blood lead level when a physical examination could detect symptoms of lead poisoning.

Kehoe’s group dominated the discussion of lead in the medical field to an almost unprecedented extent. His laboratory - named for Kettering and funded by Ethyl, GM, and DuPont - essentially monopolised peer review of lead-related health research, allowing them to reinforce their results and dominate the medical field, including redefining the medical definition of lead poisoning to match the blood lead thresholds set by Kehoe’s lab.

The lead industry owned lead health, and it wasn’t even a secret.

Clair Patterson With A Meteoric Iron Chair

“It is not just a mistake for public health agencies to cooperate and collaborate with industries investigating and deciding whether public health is endangered - it is a direct abrogation of the duties and responsibilities of those public health organizations.”

- Clair Patterson, addressing the U.S. Senate

Modern academia prides itself on the self-correcting nature of science. There’s a lot of things that could be said about this principle in practice - I keep telling my mother (a research quality expert in her field) to write a book on it, now that she’s retired and the university couldn’t do anything about it. But Kehoe’s research wasn’t challenged from within medicine. Or biology, or chemistry. The challenge to Kehoe’s medical Mordor came from the humble discipline of geophysics.

Clair Patterson, a researcher at the California Institute of Technology, set out to answer a relatively simple question, and one nominally unrelated to issues of occupational health and fuel use: how old is the earth? What about the Solar System?

Patterson’s approach was simple: using samples of uranium taken from meteorites, use the ratio of lead to uranium isotopes in the sample to determine the age of the rock (and from this, the cosmic time frame between it being released by supernovae and landing on Earth). The problem was that Patterson’s data kept coming back wrong: there was too much lead in his samples. He had to develop a whole new clean room paradigm to avoid lead contamination - and in this clean room, he found something he wasn’t looking for.

The same contamination - in the air, in the water, even in Patterson’s own hair - that thwarted his study also influenced the studies of pre-industrial environmental lead concentrations. The assertion that “lead exists in nature” which was the foundation of Kehoe’s entire medical and regulatory paradigm was rooted in flawed data. The industrialised world didn’t have a natural baseline level of lead - it exceeded that concentration by over one thousand times.

In 1965, Patterson published his findings. Of course, Kehoe - a leading expert on lead exposure - was called upon for peer review. Kehoe didn’t squash the findings - actually, he supported Patterson’s paper, though not out of respect for his findings, but because he believed they would be of scientific value as an example of just how wrong a researcher could be. He told the journal to publish the paper so that he and his team could “face and demolish” it. (Seriously. I’m not joking about the Bond villain thing.)

Patterson’s work would see most of his research funding withdrawn, and the oil industry would attempt to influence CalTech’s board to get him fired. But the same meticulous procedures that he needed to build his cleanroom were reflected in his research notes and data, and reviewers outside Kehoe’s group of lead experts validated Patterson’s conclusions. New samples were taken from Arctic glaciers and the depths of the ocean, and when protected from contamination like Patterson’s meteorites, they supported him, not Kehoe: lead concentrations increased dramatically with industrialisation.

Patterson and Kehoe would face off before the U.S. Senate in a 1966 hearing. Kehoe was called as the medical expert on lead poisoning, while Patterson spoke for the new conclusions - and denounced Kehoe’s monopoly on lead research and the government’s sometimes-tacit, sometimes-explicit support for his findings.

Afterwards

If this were a morality play, this is where Kehoe’s career would end, but it didn’t. Kehoe retired from academia in 1965, a year and was granted the title of Professor Emeritus of Occupational Medicine by his long-time employer, the University of Cincinnati. He would withdraw from public life in 1979, but not before championing the unproven-but-not-disproven safety of another Midgley-made environmental disaster, Freon.

Patterson’s work shook faith in tetraethyllead, but it took another, ten years for the government to finally regulate it. Pediatrician Herbert Needleman found a link between neurodevelopmental damage in children and elevated lead levels, which was soon linked to air pollution. Despite a lawsuit from the Ethyl Corporation, the U.S. government officially began phasing out the use of leaded gasoline in automobiles in 1976. Ethyl Corporation shifted to international markets, and lobbied many governments in the developing world against banning leaded gasoline.

While the United Nations declared that leaded gasoline was eliminated worldwide in 2011, it remained available for purchase until 2021, when it was officially removed from sale in Algeria, the last country to produce it. The United Nations once again declared that this marked the worldwide elimination of leaded gasoline. Tetraethyllead is still produced in the United States and China for use in aviation fuel.

The Kehoe Rule’s stranglehold on public health discourse was shaken by the erosion of its namesake’s work, but it lingers, especially in the United States. The example set by Kehoe became the scientific shield for much of the scientific malpractice of the mid-20th century, from the proliferation of asbestos to the U.S.’s use of defoliants as chemical weapons in Vietnam. In many ways, it remains active today, as Monsanto (now Bayer) relied on a variation of the Kehoe Rule as their primary defense against lawsuits regarding their Roundup pesticide’s possible status as a carcinogen.

Endings

Perhaps the ironic symbol of Thomas Midgley’s career is his death in 1955. Suffering from polio, Midgley developed a sophisticated system of mechanical mobility aids, only to be killed when the device malfunctioned, making him one of the unlucky few to have invented their own cause of death. He was 55.

Clair Patterson died on December 5, 1995 at age 73. The cause of death for the champion of air pollution regulation was a severe asthma attack.

Robert A. Kehoe died in 1992, shortly after his 99th birthday. The University of Cincinnati’s archives house a collection of his papers, though none I could find had been digitised (at least for public view). In the archive’s introduction, they describe him as a “renowned occupational health expert”.

There is a private university in Flint, Michigan named for Charles F. Kettering. Yes, that Flint.

#science history #midgleyposting

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flowersarefreetherapy · 1 year

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You Are My Sunshine: pt. 9

CW: Self-hatred, implied past violence, negative internal dialogue, past conditioning

(takes place a few days after this piece)

They had already talked it out. Robin said it was fine, Thad assured them it wouldn’t happen again, and they went to talk with the young man. Star. That is his name. Robin went to talk to him and everything was supposed to be fine. That’s how it’s supposed to work out.

But as Thad sits there, staring at his students as they laugh about something, he can’t stop thinking about the kid. And not just him, but the others they have taken in over the years. All Romantics, all pretty faces and perfect voices and calculating movements. He loves them, he really does, and he wants to help them, want them to get out of the training and the walls that have been placed around their lives, but there's always something when he looks at them. Their beauty which has kept them alive this far is a glaringly obvious difference to his scarred skin and missing hand.

“Mr. Castillo?” Philipp runs up to him, holding up his worksheet. “Lilia drawed on mine!”

Thad forces himself back into the moment and kneels down so he is on the same level as the young boy. “I’m sorry, Philipp.”

“I looked away and then she drawed on mine!”

Thad takes a deep breath and lets Philip lead him to where the other kids are sitting. The rest of the day is spent with reading and addition and no time to think. Normally he enjoys the time, but he can’t do that now. He can’t have his brain spiraling.

When he gets home, there is a pot of rice on the table, the air thick with the smell of curry. He smiles and hangs up his jacket and keys.

“I’m home, sunshine!”

“Hey,” Robin walks into the hallway. Their hair is up in a messy half bun, a few strands falling around their face. Thad recognizes the button up they’re wearing as his own; a light blue plaid. “Dinner is ready.”

“Thanks.”

His smile doesn’t last. It drops and Robin’s follows. They step forwards, gaze darting between his eyes.

“Thad? What happened?”

“Is Star here?”

Robin frowns. “He’s in his room. Why? Thad, what happened? You’re scaring me.”

“It’s nothing,” Thad says. “Well, nothing important. It’s just stupid.”

Robin reaches out and takes his forearms. Their thumbs rub across his skin, passing over scars long devoid of feeling. Thad rests his forehead against theirs, letting out a long sigh. He closes his eyes and rests in safety, allowing his muscles to relax. Whatever he is struggling with means nothing when he’s with his partner, when they can take it on together.

“Thad, honey, what’s wrong?”

“I–I’m not them.” Their question is all it takes for his barriers to come crashing down. His voice cracks on the words, his hand starting to shake. “I’m not pretty and I’m not desirable and the only thing I’m good for is fighting and killing and I don’t know how to make you happy and–”

“Thad, what-what are you talking about?”

“Them,” Thad whispers. “The others.”

Robin’s eyes widen. They’ve drawn the connections and he can see the wheels of their mind start to turn, picking apart whatever arguments he is about to throw at them.

“They were wanted,” Thad breathes, holding onto Robin’s hand to keep from drowning. His eyes burn. “They were wanted.”

He remembers seeing them through the bars he can never forget, in that dark room where the smell of blood and urine burned his nose and eyes. Grinding his teeth behind the tight muzzle they clamped around his face, watching with hatred as the pretty, clean Pets fawned over their owners, got to have fresh water in little cups, ate bright food that wasn’t mush. He hated them, hated when he looked up, standing in the middle of the ring, covered in blood and sweat with a body at his feet, and there they were, sitting there in laps, kneeling with smiles on their faces. They were loved, they got to go home to soft beds and warm blankets and a master who loved them, not threw them away at the first sign of weakness.

Then there were the ones he saw even further back, the ones he doesn’t like to think about. Surrounded by white walls and white floors and white uniforms. They were the ones all the handlers wanted to have. He remembers them standing over his body, warm blood running down his face as they talk about one of them. Words he doesn’t like, describing things he doesn’t want, all while he struggles to breathe through cracked ribs. They were the ones who got candy and gifts and their training was always better, always leaving them breathless and smiling, not screaming for mercy he will never receive.

“They are always wanted,” Thad chokes out. Blinding pain stabs into his temples. Phantom pain lances up his arm from where his hand once was. “Always! No one wants the ugly ones, the stupid ones, the dumb mutts.”

Once a dumb mutt, always a dumb mutt. You know that. Stupid, thinking you could be anything else.

“Thad, you are none of those things. You are brave and smart and funny and handsome, you are so handsome.”

Robin’s hand cups his face and Thad leans into it. He can’t remember the last time he has spiraled this far. He meets his partner's gaze, holding it as he tries to match Robin’s steady breathing.

They would make a beautiful Romantic.

Thad recoils. Where the hell did that thought come from? Bile burns the back of his throat as he struggles to recover, but he knows the truth. Their auburn hair and hazel eyes would have been enough on their own, but once their easy grace is factored in . . . Thad shakes his head, pulling his mind away from that very dangerous path. His palm sweats, his skin crawling with the sensation that he has been defiled.

“Thad, look at me. What happened?”

Thad shakes his head. It’s the most he can manage. How can he explain that to Robin? How could he ever explain the full darkness coiled inside of him to the person who loves him the most? Robin, for all their beauty and love and kindness, could never know. They know how horrible the world is, but they can never understand all he has done, all that he is capable of doing.

He looks at them and sometimes, instead of seeing his partner, he sees the fifty ways he can kill them without a weapon. He looks at them and sometimes he knows he can take whatever he wants without asking and they won’t be able to stop him. He looks at them and sees a beauty who never deserved a beast.

“Come on.” Robin leads him to the couch and they pull him close. Thad presses his head in the crook between their jaw and shoulder, tears burning his eyes. “Shh, love, I have you. You’re home, you’re safe, you’re loved. You aren’t there. You’re with me. Do you remember your name?”

He nods. He hasn’t forgotten, he just remembers more than he wants. It isn’t the answer Robin is looking for, so he forces himself to swallow back a sob and whisper, “My name is Thad Castillo. Your name is Robin. You’re my partner. I love you.”

Good mutts speak when asked questions.

“I love you too,” Robin responds. “You’re safe, Thad. And whatever is going on, whatever lies they told you, they’re just that. Lies. You have value and you are not the lies they told you.” They rub circles across his back, forcing his tensed muscles to relax. “You are not a mutt. You are a man and you are my husband.”

Good mutts have owners. Good mutts belong to their masters.

Thad clenches his hand into a fist, sharply exhaling. His wedding ring digs into his finger, pinching the skin. The moment of pain brings clarity. Robin shakily exhales, their breath ghosting across his face.

“I love you,” they whisper in his ear. “Nothing will change that. I love you, I chose you, I want you by my side for the rest of my life.”

Good mutts stay with their masters. They protect their masters.

Thad nods. It’s easier than trying to combat the lies. He nods and can feel the tension training from Robin’s body. Good. They aren’t panicking. He hates when they panic and he doesn’t know what to do.

Stupid mutt. They don’t want you. They’re smart. Why would they want a stupid creature like you?

Tagging: @pigeonwhumps @blood-is-compulsory (let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

#implied past violence #angst #conditioning #negative internal dialogue #self-esteem issues #bbu universe #self-hatred #bbu #pet whump #Thad #Robin #sunshine house #amputee character

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daegulinekush · 1 year

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The death of peace fo mind

~ a Kim Taehyugn Fanfiction

Chapter two: ★ It scares me sometimes. the emptiness I see in my own eyes ★

Contains: trauma, we getting OC backstory, minor character death, mentions of bullying, generally sad and angsty chapter

The pounding of my head is something I can’t get over. It feels like my head is split in two, like all of the regrets in my life are coming back to me to entirely shatter my brain, breaking the chains I so forcefully put on them, just to grasp at me with their sharp as knives claws, shadow like demons, with no clear nor touchable form, yet oh so real that they make blood come to the surface with just a mere brush of their claws.

I always hated getting drunk. After the adrenaline seeps away from the veins and the euphory of never-ending laughter leaves my body, there is nothing but my joke of a soul left behind, trimmed to shreds of the person I could have been if things were to be different.

It’s morbid, really, the place my mind can become. I don’t like the way self-pity tends to swallow me, the way heavy clouds are pulled as thick curtains over me and burn my lungs as I try to breathe.

Life is a joke and it should be treated as such: light-hearted and fun. The moment should be lived to the max and, above it all, taking life too seriously will always lead to suddenly realizing we have just one life and we’ve been wasting each breath with worries instead of taking things as they are. Life passes and worrying about everything has never been benefic. Regrets are useless as you can’t change the past.

Yet, in moments like these, I can’t help but mourn the person I could have been. Would I have been better? Would I be less snappy, would my life lack so many hardships if she was there?

The ache and emptiness in my chest feel way too common, too known. A deeply etched wound, one that refuses to close, to heal, one that will always keep a part of me hollow, empty. It is inevitable, a constant mourning I can merely push at the back of my head and ignore. One that will never truly stop, not until my last breath, maybe not even after that.

Ah, the way my head feels like it’s gonna split in two.

With a heavy breath and aching eyes from the very back of my head, I rub at my face, vaguely surprised to remark no remains of my makeup from yesterday on my palms. Tae probably cleaned my face after I basically blacked out from tiredness. It makes warmth and fondness bloom in my heart inevitably, always so tender, always so careful. He’s truly the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Reaching for my phone, the light up of the screen makes the pain in my eyeballs even harsher, forcing me to blink owlishly. The text from him is what makes me stubbornly focus on my screen.

“Taebear: Good morning, bestie <3 I’m at Chim’s. Bet your head is pounding. I truly should stop both of your stubborn asses from drinking together ever again. Y’all never know when to stop”

It leaves a faint smile on my lips inevitably. He’s truly the best thing to have ever happened to me. He’s been there for me when not even I could be there for myself, believed in me when I couldn’t see even one good thing in myself.

It brings memories back, forces them to seep through the too-thin barriers I forcefully raised, my brain too tired, wires too entangled to be able to push them back. The kind of memories that make your eyes sting, the type of memories nobody should have.

It feels so heavy, the press and burn of my lungs, the way I can still feel the metallic scent of blood, so unfit for the one of camellias she wore, as if I was still there, as if years have not passed at all, as if I remained a mere not even 14 years old all over again.

Closing my eyes on instinct makes it even worse.

In moments like these, with new starts, it truly feels inevitable to not wonder, to not live again that moment when my life changed irremediably.

Most of my memories are blurry while also having moments of concerning clarity.

There had been too much going on. I was barely starting my rebellious phase, the one every teenager should have the luxury of, one so important for simply discovering yourself as a person.

My mom had never been the type to keep a tight grasp on me. She was just like me while also being so different, with her small smile that feels so blurred at the corners of my memories, with the warmth she always carried, with the harsh lines over her face when she frowned, somehow her eyes so tired, the worries so deeply etched onto her features.

I was just 13, almost 14. I needed her more than I could have ever anticipated, needed her safety, needed the ridiculous fights every teenage girl should have with her parents.

Life had never been easy but maybe I was too stubborn to truly understand her words, just to later hang on so heavily onto each and every one of them, wishing for more, wishing the times when she would scold me could be there again, wishing for things that are impossible, like being able to remember her better.

It’s getting close to that time of the year again. The time when leaves fall, the time when green turns into yellow and burning dark brown. With time passing, inevitably the wound forces its ugly roots to pump poison into me all over again, forces me to grieve all over again, forces me back to that clueless and scared 13-year-old.

I can still hear my distorted screams, somewhat clogged, the images of my memory carrying blurred edges and even more blurred little spots along my vision.

I can feel and see it just the way I’ve lived through it.

The way her trembling hands gripped onto the counter of the kitchen, her back for the first time in my whole life not being straight shoulders and intimidatingly perfect control, but a weak hunch, bowed and looking more like a fragile leaf than the woman who has raised me with such strong beliefs. The one who's been the very example of how I wished to be, even if right now I know I can't hold a mere candle to her, the one who somehow in all of the chaos that was our lives made it home and safe and the best I could have asked for.

It's heartbreaking, truly. The way I have so many memories of her, so much warmth to remember, yet my heart becomes hollow just thinking of her, the memory that pops in my mind when I think of her is the warm feeling of blood and her body becoming cold, it's the way her eyes became more and more unfocused without becoming glassy and the whisper of "I'm proud of you", words I will forever cherish, but will probably never be able to agree with.

In all of the chaos of a father who wasn't a dad and not just gave up on both me and her, but also forced her to make a home out of chaos for the both of us, made us run and hide, unwilling to even admit to his mistakes and instead trying so hard to get rid of every evidence that could point to the obvious.

An unwanted child. This is what I was for him and not even that. I was a problem, the fact that I was the only person carrying his cursed DNA.

Yet, I was kept so tightly in the grip of her, a woman better than I could ever be, even if she herself raised me, more or less struggling, more or less alone.

The only thing I know is that it could be worse. That on that day, four years ago, I could have had a worse fate, one less mercyful, one that would have made the mistake of my genes my supposed legal guardian and not guard me against anything but leave just a shell behind, one that wouldn't have lasted long before rotting and turning to ashes.

The police station is the thing I remember in a blur after calling the emergency number desperately, refusing to believe the obvious that had not been obvious at all until it was too late and it hit me in full force.

The worst day of my life, the reason for most of my nightmares. One that I remember just in uglily cut parts, like a bad old movie I wasn't somehow part of, not in the true sense. A tragedy with no meaning, lower than any character changing, a mere filler put there to fill an episode for more money in the pockets without any regard for how it will affect.

The thing about being at the police station while in shock is that you have selective hearing. Or so I wish to call it. The automatic responses to the questions, the narration but yet not enough settled memories to process them, the refusal, the unbelief of what has happened. I refused to believe it that night.

Someone normal might have cried, maybe. This is how people show their sadness, their anger, their deepest emotions. And yet, I was empty. I couldn't feel anything or I felt so much to the point I became numb.

I remember being cold, I remember it being late November, I remember voices blending in the background and questions flying above my head as soon as I responded. I couldn't process anything.

I remember the way the place felt so much like a hospital or any other institution associated with such pain and loss, loss of yourself even, of your time, your mental health, your very soul sucked from you, the hallways endless, the floors as clean and as dirty as any other place of such, the walls so light they make your eyes burn and wish they’d rather kill themselves. It’s just something sickening about those common yet so rare places, something that simply screams at you to get out while feeling timeless. Maybe this is exactly the reason one feels like being driven insane by them. Or, at least, I did.

Then, somehow, a little bit of emotion, of mercy came in a form I didn’t expect, I didn’t even think about, but I should of have in all honesty.

It was the walk of a small, delicate-looking woman at first, her long hair and the way she walked, always hurried and always seemingly needing to be somewhere. The second giveaway was the way she gasped when her warm eyes gazed upon me, arms already open, already reaching for me.

She was beaten by a mere hair by the only one man I could say has never disappointed me, the one I trust my very life to, the one I would put my heart in the hands of and would be sure he wouldn’t be so cruel to claw at it.

Warm, Taehyung has always been so warm, since we were kids, even if we never got to stay more than a month together at a time before that moment. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, such a tight grip, and he was pulling me closer as if I would crumble if he didn’t, like this was the only way to keep my supposedly broken pieces together. He was sniffling already, eyes red and bangs falling into his eyes, wide and with so much emotion in them, so much that maybe, maybe just at that moment, the switch that has been pulled within me had been finally gently switched by his fingertips, because after so many hours, I could feel my cheeks becoming wet, the heartache I have been forcing down unknowingly, sobs threatening to rip through my lips. I tried so hard to keep them down, bit my lip until I almost drew blood, and yet, they were trembling so bad, I was trembling so bad that I simply couldn’t stop them.

I remember the blinding lights becoming less blinding, my face hidden at his chest. He was wearing a light brown hoodie, and I haven’t properly seen him in two years, to the point I almost couldn’t recognize him, how much he’s grown, lanky long limbs and slowly sharpening features. He became even taller, as if he wasn’t already taller than me since we were ten, to the point where I reached his shoulder.

Yet, he remained unexplainably Taehyung, my Taehyung, my childhood friend. The same friend I ran from dusk till down with at the farm, the same guy who carried me on his back and stumbled when we were just five because I scratched my knees badly and was crying, the same friend I slept cuddled with in the same bed for so many nights.

At that point, it was everything I needed: the way he held me so tightly, the breakings of his in transformation voice and weird way it sounded when he whispered it’ll be okay, that I’m not alone. It was even more ridiculous considering we were standing on two very uncomfortable chairs or, better said, were almost entirely crumbling them with our fussing.

The blanket wrapped later around my shoulders was the same light brown, soft and warm, his mother handing it to him and going to talk to the police officers.

Maybe just then did it hit me how actually dangerous this situation was for me, for my future. I couldn’t end up in my father’s hands, not when he’s already caused so much pain to my mother, not when everything I knew regarding him was closer to a monster than a human, not when I knew he had a wife home, not when I knew of the harsh words he had told my mother, not when he was already such an absent figure from my life, one that I didn’t and couldn’t trust.

Fear. I could feel it all through my body, the trembling, the shivers, the anxiety building within. Would I even be listened to? Would they even ask me where I wanna go or will I be forced to just go with him as supposedly my only parent alive? Did I truly have no word to say and they’ll just decide for me, will make such an important decision and shove it down my throat as if I’m simply supposed to just accept living under the same roof with someone I can’t suffer, someone who has literally told my own mother she should have aborted me, someone who acted as if I decided to ruin your life, as if I decided to exist, as if he didn’t have any fault in all of this story, as if he didn’t have a whole relationship with my mother without ever telling her he’s married?

It was a concept I couldn’t grasp, I refused to. But me and Taehyung, knowing each other for so long, had a special connection, knew how to read each other, or maybe he’s always simply had this talent, the one where he can tell what I’m feelings, the one where he can anticipate what I’m thinking about in some moments.

“We won’t let him take you. Mom would drag this whole police station to hell before she’d let any of them get their hands on you, dear. You’re gonna come with us. You have to. There’s no other way”

He was so sure, so sure I will go back home with them, with him and his mother.

Two days. It took around two days for all of the mess to merely be talked over so I could at least get out of that depressing place. The flight had been long and very sudden for them too, but they were here, for me.

Another two months went in a blur, but I was let to stay with them, at least.

It was a whole another level of hell. To have to face my father, to prove he’s got not right over me by my mother’s signature, which I didn’t even know in the first place was already arranged between those two women, but God bless their anticipation and planificatory skills.

Things ended up the best it could have happened for such a context, with me going to Korea with Taehyung and his mom, even as I didn’t know much words of the language as we were so used to communicating in Japanese.

Everything was new, but at least I wasn't alone. Even if it wasn't easy, even if many times I wondered if it's even worth it in the first place, if I can continue.

Many things have happened along those four and a half years we've been living together. It didn't feel like I was an outsider, like I didn't belong. It took time to adapt, to interact properly with Taehyung's siblings, to get used to the life here. We had our ridiculous fights, more or less serious, more or less dramatic. His mom feels like my own too, always so warm and yet knowing exactly when to be stern, when to get a tighter grasp on us, when to be our friend and laugh with us and when to shake us to reality.

It's not like I didn't have the time to mourn. I guess I just simply never felt ready to do it properly.

Maybe this is exactly why even when I feel like there's no hope, there is still a part of me that betrays me, that lets it linger. Because I've always had Taehyung. Because we got each other's back when people were bullying us, because my temperament had always spiked when someone targeted him, because I simply couldn't let him all alone. Many times had his mother been called and asked to come to highschool, been repeated I have problems with my behavior and that I become violent.

She tried, she truly tried to instill the gentleness within me. Her and my own mother were very different on those sides.

To say it didn’t work was an understatement. Especially when it was the period where I finally met Jimin, who was just as mad as me at the world when Taehyung was being mistreated and we more or less formed a protection squad around him.

It had been just me and Taehyung at first, but I have always been happy about him having other friends than me. When Taehyung had told me over the phone he met Jimin, I was happy. When he told me they’re soulmates, I have been not so sure, as I didn’t want him to get hurt if things go the wrong way. Then, I met Jimin myself, who’s so different, whom I have totally another type of interaction with. Yet, no matter how much we bully each other, I know he’s always got my back. I know this man will not hesitate to entirely make someone regret their lives if necessarily.

Taehyung will always remain my best friend, my childhood, my support person and everything good in my life. Maybe it’s just natural to be like that, for him to be everything for me considering he’s always been there for me, like a brother I could simply always count on, no matter how far away.

Jimin was… my biggest critique. In the best of ways. The type to realize I’ve got enough sugar coating, the type to balance it out, the type to tell me I actually look like shit when I do, to grab me by the shoulders and entirely restyle me, refusing to let me out of the house until I look jaw dropping. He’s a big supporter, somehow sweeter, but he’s also rougher in that way that simply fits. Because he’ll be there to wipe my tears away and would know to choose his words carefully, but he’d also call me stupid when it’s needed. The same guy who taught me how to throw a punch properly, the same guy who taught me how to fight even when Taehyung was so against it, knowing I’ve got the spirit in me, knowing I needed the knowledge as to not hurt myself.

Jimin is someone I didn’t think I needed in my life, but also someone I would not let go of and I’m very lucky to have as a friend. Someone whom I’ll always be happy that met my very soul and keeps taking care of it, the only person besides me whom I trust entirely to care for Taehyung, maybe even more, because I won’t be enough of a fool to lie to myself that it’s not different. Guys will always talk and understand each other differently, which is completely natural and normal.

Yet, as much as I adore my actual life, I can’t help but wonder sometimes if it would have been different if she was still there. I can’t help but mourn the kid I could have been, can’t help but mourn for all of the memories I could have and the ones I lost and lose with each day.

With each year I forget details about her and it’s disheartening. Who will remember her if I don’t?

Tagging: @parkdatjimin @pamzn 🥰

Author note: This chapter feels quite bland to me and it definitely didn't end the way I wanted but I guess we can't do things the way we wish for everytime 🥺

#bts fanfiction #fanfiction #bts fic #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic

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cxlxrx · 2 years

Text

Pinky Swear

Warnings: canon typical violence, PTSD

WC: 2.072

A/N: thanks to my beta reader @whoopsitswhump ♡

(still tagging @ginwicche <3)

Chapter 6

One week has passed since their short trip to the city. When they were back home Hughie tried to made everything as easy as possible for Ben. The poor guy looked like he was hit by a train, with sleepy eyes and a constant exhausted expression on his face. Butcher considerd their trip into the city as a success, nobody had gotten hurt or died. That was true, but Hughie's hand had hurt for two days. Hughie knew Ben was powerful but he didn’t know exactly what Ben was capable of. He could explode, but it seemed like he also had super strength, and was probably bulletproof too (back at the lab where Hughie had found Ben, he had walked out of the shooting without any scratches).

Sometimes Ben sat under his table and just stared. He didn't look at anything in particular, it was like he just checked out of his body. When Hughie touched his shoulder he would immediately snap back to reality and wince like Hughie had hit him. That was a bit concerning for Hughie. Ben hadn't done that before their trip to the city, it was like he had been triggered by something which caused this kind of reaction out of nowhere.

It also became more common for Ben to want to communicate with Hughie. Sometimes he sat besides Hughie on the couch and stared at him with such concentration it looked like it pained him. Hughie tried speaking, but Ben didn't try to talk back, he just listened to Hughie. It was like Ben had a barrier in his head that made it impossible for him to communicate.

One evening, Hughie was watching Supernatural (one of the main characters looked a lot like Ben) and again Ben sat next to him and stared at him and sometimes opened his mouth only to close it again. He only payed attention to Hughie and not to the TV (he never payed attention to anything Hughie watched).

"He's fuckin creepy" Butcher said from across the room, where he was eating spaghetti. "Teach him some fuckin' communication.” His words were muffled through the pasta. "That staring is fuckin' creepy and it's pathetic to see him like that. He's a fuckin' bomb, he should at least talk a bit."

Hughie looked away from the TV (even when it was hard, the ghost hunt was really thrilling), and towards Butcher. "Oh really. I never had this idea before. Did you know what I’ve been trying to teach him for over a month? Communication, right. And it's fucking hard." This topic made Hughie salty; no one wanted Ben to communicate more then he did, and he tried to make it happen. He tried his best, but it was so hard to overcome Ben’s years of brain washing and torture. At least Ben could nod and shake his head, and was slowly relearning what wanting and needing was. This was something Hughie considered as a huge step for everyone.

"I texted Kimiko", Butcher said, "She'll be here in half an hour, and then you two get start to teach him some fuckin' words. I can't handle this creepy staring and lost puppy gaze anymore."

Hughie signed, "You couldn't have asked me before texting her, right?"

30 minutes later Kimiko arrived. She smiled at Hughie, then hugged him after hesitating briefly. Ben sat under his table, his gaze fixed on them. Kimiko waved to Ben shyly. Ben bit his lip.

"Okay", Hughie said and clapped his hands together, "I think you know why you're here." Kimiko nodded. "I'm sorry Frenchie couldn't come, but he doesn't do well with... men..." Hughie said while guiding Kimiko to Ben. They crouched down in front of the desk and Ben slipped back to the wall behind him.

"This is Kimiko,” Hughie said in introduction. Kimiko smiled and nodded. "She's a Supe like you." Ben's eyes widened. Once again, Kimiko nodded. She pulled out a knife and carefully cut her hand palm. Blood slowly dribbled out and fell to the floor, and the cut immediately began to close. Ben looked at her, then at Hughie. "Like I said", Hughie nodded to Kimiko, "She's a Supe like you." Slowly Ben raised his hand, his gaze literally bored at Kimiko's eyes and touched the palm of her hand. The cut was perfectly healed. Ben tilted his head. Then he took his hand back and touched his chest instead. The lighting was a bit brighter than usual under his shirt. Hughie smiled at him, "Yes, like you."

Kimiko wiped her bloody hand on her trousers and then put out her phone. She typed, then she hold the screen to Hughie. 'I thought we should start with the baby ASL, it's easier to learn for him.' Hughie nodded, he already learned some baby ASL from Kimiko. He would learn every word Ben would learn, and they might eventually be able to have a conversation together. This would be Hughie's new ultimate goal.

Kimiko looked at Ben, who still had his hand over his shining spot. She pointed with her forfinger to her chest and then crossed her arms and touched her upper arm with two little tips. Kimiko. This was the sign for her name. "It's Kimiko", Hughie translated. "She said, I'm Kimiko." Ben tilted his head. Kimiko pointed at Ben and traced a big question mark in the air.

"Who are you?", Hughie translated. Ben looked at Hughie. Right, Ben didn't know who he was. Hughie didn't address Ben with his real name or his supe name. He was afraid it would stress Ben too much. Hughie made a circle at his chest with his forefinger, "Ben."

Ben narrowed his eyes. "That's your name", Hughie said calmly, "Your name is Ben." Ben bit his lip, didn't move. He processed. Hughie repeated the sign for Ben, "That's you. Ben." It seemed like Ben didn't even know his own name. Hughie always thought Ben knew his name but couldn't say it because his communication barrier, but apparently Ben didn't know his name at all. Hughie should've known better.

Hughie made the circling motion on his chest with his forefinger again, "Ben."

Ben still had his hand on his chest. Hughie made the motion again. "Imitate me." An order. Ben could work with that. Ben imitated Hughie, probably without thinking. That's not what Hughie wanted but Ben probably needed some clear instructions first.

"You're Ben", Hughie said, and made the circling motion on his chest again, "Ben."

Ben looked concentrated at Hughie, imitated him, and nodded.

Together with Kimiko Hughie taught Ben a few signs. But if Ben would actually use them... Hughie didn't know. He hoped. They taught him yes, no, water, food, and toilet. The five words took two hours. Ben was a very slow learner. After the learning Hughie and Kimiko started a movie while Soldier Boy curled up under his table. In the middle of the movie Kimiko poked Hughie in his shoulder and he looked up. I feel sorry for him, she signed.

"You mean Ben?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, me too. The guy went through a lot. I think he likes you."

Kimiko smiled and touched with her fingers her chin and brought them forward again. ‘Thank you.’

"Maybe you should come around more often."

Hughie knew Ben coped better with woman, and that Kimiko had gone through the same kind of things that he had was another plus point.

Kimiko seemed to consider this proposal for a short time, then she smiled again and moved her forefinger to her mouth and then a few inches forward again. Sure.

Two more days passed. Ben slept a lot under his table (far more than usual, he remained Hughie of a cat). He slept up to 12 hours a day, his sleep had more than doubled since their first learning session. Ben learned slowly. Like, very slowly. He could recognize the words Hughie signed but only managed to sign yes, and he never actually used it. It was kinda frustrating, Hughie had to admit. Nonetheless, Kimiko came up every two days to teach Hughie (and Ben, but mostly Hughie) more signs.

After four learning session they only made little progress. Sure Ben knew all the signs and could recognize them perfectly he just didn't sign them by himself. Hughie was starting to get a bit frustrated about it. He desperately wanted to communicate with Ben, wanted to know things about him, wanted to asked him what BEN wanted and needed. What he liked, what he disliked. Hughie desperately wanted to know it. Ben was a walking riddle, and Hughie really wanted to solve it.

Ben followed Hughie to the front door to say goodbye to Kimiko. They had learned for 2 hours together (Ben's absolute limit) and Ben had stared at them, listened to them and repeated every sign, because Hughie had asked him to. Success looked different from this, in Hughie’s mind.

Kimiko waved and made Ben's sign. She always did this before she left, a little ritual. Suddenly Ben also raised his hand and waved, then he crossed his arms to his upper arm and tapped twice.

Goodbye Kimiko.

Hughie's mouth fell open. Kimiko smiled, waved again and turned around.

When the door closed Hughie threw his arms in the air. "That was so good, actually it was great! You did so good, Ben." Ben looked at him, biting his lower lip again. "I'll make some dinner", Hughie said, suddenly in a very good mood. "You can sleep if you want to."

Ben made a fist with his right hand and shook it. Yes. "Perfect.” Hughie smiled and went to the kitchen. They would eat burgers. Ben's reward.

Hughie made his way back to the living room once dinner was ready. He had expected to see Ben under his table but he wasn't, instead he sat in front of the TV. Ben bit is lip and fiddled with the end of his sleeve. His eyes glued to the TV. Scooby and his friends flickered across the screen. They talked about a ghost in a haunted mansion (probably even a witch). Slowly Hughie went to the couch didn't want to interrupt Ben's concentration to the screen. Silently they watched the entire episode. In the end it wasn't something supernatural (like always) and the gang solved the case. Ben turned around to Hughie with a frown, he looked at Hughie in concentration and then he flattened out his right hand, bended his left hand at a right angle and then tapped it against the middle of the palm of his flattened out right hand. Again. Hughie would have dropped the plates if he hadn't already put them on the table. "You wanna watch another episode of Scooby Doo?", he said with a big smile of his face, his voice a bit higher than normal. Ben shook his right fist. Yes. "I still got some old DVDs of Scooby Doo I'll get them!", he jumped of the couch and hurried to find his DVDs. Actually he thought about to throw them away but he couldn't bring himself to clean his childhood memories out. Thank God he didn't clean the DVDs out.

They watched several episodes Scooby Doo this evening, it was almost 11PM and Hughie thought about watching Scooby Doo all night. The last episode on the DVD in the recorder ran out, and the TV went silent. Ben turned around and looked at Hughie, tilting his head. Slowly he raised his hand and pointed at Hughie, "Y... Y.... ou." Hughie stopped breathing for a moment. Ben made the sign for Hughie's name. His right into a fist, pinky stretched out and moving it down to his flattened left hand. Hughie felt like he could cry any moment. Ben had said something. He actually had. His voice sounded rusty and more deep than Hughie thought it would. Every letter he had said had been spoken with such an effort. Ben pointed at himself and signed his name.

Hughie nodded, "Yes, you're Ben and I'm Hughie."

Ben made the sign for again and then for name, pointed at Hughie. "You want me to say my name again?", Hughie asked. Ben shook is right fist.

"My name is Hughie."

Ben opend his mouth, but no sound came out. "Hughie,” Hughie said.

"...u...ie..." Ben said, nearly choking on the word. "U...g...ie. U...ghie."

Hughie nodded, "Yes, that's my name." Ben made the sign for Hughie's name.

"U...ghie."

#the boys fanfiction #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy #hughie campbell #billy butcher #the boys #fanfiction #fanfic

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borathae · 11 months

Note

The development jungkook has had is 🤌 his confidence is soaring and I love it. I also get momentary kicks everytime taehyung spots them getting lovey dovey. I know jimin broke them up bcz he feels a wierd possessive hold over tae and can't stand anyone else sharing that attention but honestly this menace will end when tae stands up to jimin and tells him to act right.

At this point it is his choice that decides the direction of this relationship.

Hobi and the witch getting cosy 😻 hobi needs himself a happy love interest 😂 I need someone else to throw his sex life in his face now.

Yoongi getting flustered after being the hottest giving most romantic mfer is the most awkwardly cute thing 🥺🥺 he really is a boongie🥺🥺 she picked him up🥺🥺 (war flashbacks to the yoongi drabble getting his ass ate in the kitchen bcz was small and cute) (have you seen yoongi recently?? He's so hot😐😐😐..)

What was that ash that he gave her? Did he suspect some foul play already? Kudos to OC to listening to her intuition and killing the witch. This really reminds me of that TVD scene where all the vampires dropped dead /passed out bcz of the witch council mystic falls council😁 even the mind boiling his blood scene. Bonnie used to do that a lot 😁😁😁

OC literally gets her share of best sex and trauma side by side. My sis needs a long island vacation and skinny dipping.

The development jungkook has had is 🤌 his confidence is soaring and I love it.

this this this this this :(((

Hobi and the witch getting cosy 😻 hobi needs himself a happy love interest 😂 I need someone else to throw his sex life in his face now.

ISTFG and you gotta know that all these witches are major secret kinksters FADJFAJ Hobi is in good hand with Dragana OHOHOHO

Yoongi getting flustered after being the hottest giving most romantic mfer is the most awkwardly cute thing 🥺🥺 he really is a boongie🥺🥺 she picked him up🥺🥺

"he really is a boongie" JFJADJFJA PLEASE WHY IS THIS THE CUTEST SHIT I EVER READ FJADJFJA 😭😭

war flashbacks to the yoongi drabble getting his ass ate in the kitchen bcz was small and cute

*passes out* THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME THINK OF THIS AGAIN FADJFAJD I was on such a rush when I wrote that afjadjfja 😩

have you seen yoongi recently?? He's so hot😐😐😐..

he's been running through my mind 24/7 no joke whenever I'm having a quiet moment my brain switches to "yoongi yoongi yoongi" mode JFAJDFJ

What was that ash that he gave her? Did he suspect some foul play already?

It was magical ash, which serves as a barrier, but there will be more information on it later in the story. And yes he suspected something was wrong the moment he saw those cuts on Sophie's & Shirley's hands 👀

OC literally gets her share of best sex and trauma side by side. My sis needs a long island vacation and skinny dipping.

HAHAHHAHAH she really goes from "nice fuck" to "what the fuck?" constantly ahah protect her soul JFAJDSF ALSO SKINNY DIPPING WITH YOONKOOK I SAID WHAT I FUCKING SAID FNADNF

#asks: magnus venatio #asks #afangirllikeme blog

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thirsty4villains · 2 years

Text

Rating: E

Warnings: Eventual smut, human sacrifice, torture, blood and injury, violence, angst

Tags: sharing a bed, slow burn, eventual romance, fix-it, canon divergence of Avengers Infinity War/Endgame, humor, limited use of Y/N, action and adventure

A/N: I don’t want to clog up the tag, so if you can’t wait to read more chapters, chapters 1-15 are on my AO3.

Summary:

A year has passed since the Snap. As you look to find a fresh start in life, you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. A small cult dedicated to the newly revitalized Norse religion chooses you as a sacrifice with the belief that this will give Thor and the other gods the strength to undo what Thanos has done. What you don't know is that human sacrifices come with a powerful magic — those who are sacrificed become linked with the god they have been given to.

It's been a millennia since a human was sacrificed to one of the gods. You've been bound to Loki.

CHAPTER 9

You stepped through to the other side, you glanced up in awe at a forest that led to a massive structure up on a hill on the horizon. It could have been mistaken for a forest on Earth had the vast castle not been up ahead. Its architecture was reminiscent of the palace in Folkvangr but Valhalla glittered almost. Bright silvery rays reflected off the enormous monument. Was it magic, or was it simply that beautiful?

The forest above and ahead towered over you, a thick, green canopy. The canopy blocked out most of the sun’s rays, causing the forest to trick the eyes into thinking evening had descended. By looking at Valhalla up ahead, one could see that it was hours still before sunset.

In the midst of your awe, you noticed an unusual silence from Loki. This was because he wasn’t behind you at all. When you turned around he was still on the other side of the portal. His eyes locked with yours and his fingers reached out to cross the portal threshold, demonstrating the problem. Instead of coming through, his fingers were halted at an invisible barrier.

“You can’t get through?” you asked, eyes wide. “Okay, I’m coming back.”

You crossed back over. Loki was pushing his fist into his forehead and his eyes were shut. You could practically see the cogs in his brain turning.

“I thought if you created the portal, we both should be fine to cross.” He frowned. “Freya really thought of everything, didn’t she?”

“There’s got to be a way.”

“Yes. Be silent, I need to think.”

Loki came up with various theories of how he might be able to go through the portal. None worked. In one he tried disguising himself as you to see if perhaps he could trick the magic of the realm. It didn’t work, and you were thankful when he reverted back to his own form as seeing yourself from an outsider’s point of view was disorienting at best. With each failed plan, Loki’s agitation grew.

“I have an idea,” you said.

“At this point, I’m all ears,” he said gruffly.

You stuck out your hand. “Hold my hand.”

“What?”

“Hold my hand, Loki,” you commanded.

The god quirked an eyebrow but gave no quips as he held out his hand and slipped it into yours. After your lead, you walked with Loki beside you through the portal. On the other side, Loki’s hand was still entwined with your own.

“How did you know that would work?” he asked.

“I didn’t,” you replied, giving a small laugh of relief. “Maybe magic just isn’t the solution to everything.”

The god said nothing. He looked at you with fascination.

“Clever,” he finally said.

His eyes parted yours and Loki took a moment to take in the scenery

“Valhalla,” he said with an emotion you could not identify. Whatever it was, it had a twinge of sadness in it. He looked directly ahead at the castle in the distance.

“I do not think it would be wise for me to teleport us directly into the hall of the fallen warriors. Judging from how far it is from our current location, it will take a few hours to reach. Let’s move.”

Loki released your hand. While you hadn’t forgotten that you were holding hands, the sudden absence of his disappointed you. And knowing him, calculating and perceptive as he is, there was no way he had forgotten your hands were entwined.

The walk was relatively quiet except for the occasional “Hurry up, human.” Beneath your feet crunched moss and fallen leaves. There was no real path to follow out of the forest. Loki cut through brush to forge his own toward your collective destination.

When the forest began to grow darker, insects resembling fireflies lit up the sky except their abdomens glowed baby blue rather than yellow. You tried to catch one in your hands with no success. The little bugs were fast.

“I suppose we’ll stop here for the night,” Loki said when you reached a clearing. Valhalla appeared closer but was still a few miles away.

Loki magically lit a campfire with sticks you gathered for him. Soon after, he had tracked down an animal similar in appearance to a rabbit. That was dinner, and after initial protestations of eating something that looks like a cute little bunny, your stomach won out and you took the cooked piece of meat meant for you. Loki rolled his eyes and wondered how your species evolved as much as it did. You replied with a jab about his own pickiness with food.

Darkness descended some time before finishing your meal. As you sat by the fire, Loki conjured what appeared to be an Asgardian-style sleeping bag. After inquiring about it, Loki said that’s exactly what it was. What set it apart from every sleeping bag you’d ever slept in was that it was much cozier. There was also only one.

“So conjure your own if you are so opposed to the idea of sharing,” Loki said.

You weren’t opposed. You were surprised that he wasn’t.

A howl cut you off. The sound echoed through the trees of the forest. Whatever it was, it was near.

“What was that?” you asked.

“Must be a wolf.”

You dreaded that would be the answer.

“Shouldn’t we cast some sort of protective spell so they don’t attack us in the middle of the night?”

“Are you scared?” his voice cut through the darkness. He was under the cover of the sleeping bag already, watching you weigh your options.

“If they’re anything like wolves on Earth then yeah, I’m scared.”

“From what I know of Valhallan wolves, they are twice as big as Midgardian wolves, but as long as you do not fear them you have nothing to worry about.”

“They can smell fear?”

“Not smell, per se, but they can certainly sense it.”

Another howl rang into the night and this one sounded closer than the first.

“Are you coming or not?”

The last thing Loki needed was his ego being bolstered by sliding in next to him. Another howl came from another part of the forest. There were more than one prowling around.

Conjure your own sleeping bag.

Get in with Loki.

If they really did sense fear and they came sniffing around your camp, you and Loki could easily fend them off by throwing a spell their way.

Or by getting in with Loki you wouldn’t have to worry about fearing them at all.

It was also getting cold.

Fuck.

“Move over,” you said.

You lifted the cover and slipped into the bag that was already warm thanks to Loki’s body heat. It was certainly large enough for two people, albeit snug. The dying campfire allowed just enough light for you to see the smirk playing upon the trickster’s lips. You laid on your back and Loki turned so that he was facing you.

“Still thinking about the wolves?”

“No.”

“I’m glad you feel that I can protect you.”

“Oh, shut up.”

You turned your attention to the swaying of the tips of trees above you. The canopy was thick enough even here that it acted as a blanket covering the constellations. It was uncannily dark. You turned your attention to the breeze, using your ears to follow it as it danced through tree leaves. It was an effective way of lulling you to sleep and a decent distraction from the fact that Loki’s body lay inches from yours, under sheets, and you were ninety-nine percent sure he was still looking at you.The hardest to ignore was the very present feeling of the magical bond in your body making you even more aware of him.

Two more howls in the night reminded you of why you were sharing the sleeping bag. You turned on your side, away from the dangers and toward Loki. As you scooted in closer, the tips of your feet touched his.

“So modest even in such a vulnerable state. You should know by now that I do not bite. Well.. much.”

After a minute’s silence, you whispered. “I can’t.”

“Can’t..?”

“I can’t allow myself to get tangled up with you. You’re the god of mischief, I know how it ends.”

You were sure that was the end of the conversation.

“And how does it end?” his voice deeper than usual from drowsiness, inches from you, spoke.

His eyes glinted at you, reflecting the campfire within his green irises. Even when you could barely see him he was heartstopping.

“With me getting my heart broke.”

“Is that so?”

“Isn’t it?”

Gently, Loki removed a strand of hair that had fallen in your face. You were sure you were about to burst into tears in front of him. He knew you liked him and that made it all the more easy to play games with you.

“You’re shivering.”

“It’s cold,” you lied.

Before you could protest, Loki hooked a hand around your lower back and pulled you close to him. At least if you actually did start crying, you could bury your head in his chest so he wouldn’t see. He smelled like campfire smoke and he was warm and alluring and so handsome that you hated him for it. When he retreated his hand to his side you wanted to pull it back around you, then you scolded yourself for thinking so. You wanted him to hold you because being pressed up against him wasn’t enough but at the same time it was all too much. The darkest parts of your mind wanted him to touch you and kiss you, attend to the desires you found yourself having more and more. Maybe you really did die and this was the devil meant to torture you in the delightest and cruelest fashion.

“Your skin is soft,” the god’s voice tickled your ear.

“Is it?”

“Yes, dove.”

Those were the last words spoken before you both fell asleep. With all your conflicting thoughts you’d never slept sounder. You awoke to Loki shaking you after a few unsuccessful taps on your shoulder. You blushed when you realized your hands were pressed against Loki’s bare chest.

“You were wearing a shirt last night.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

You reminded him that he still had not answered your question.

“Both our bodies together in this confined space became too warm for my liking. It was this or my pants, which I do not think you would have appreciated.”

You didn’t give him the benefit of a response. Half of the reason why Loki said these things was just to see your reaction. However, you had to turn away from him because it was hard to stop the giggle bubbling in your chest.

“Use the restroom, make yourself presentable, do what you need to do. We leave in five minutes.”

You nodded and did just so. Five minutes was hardly enough time for your brain to wake up to start hiking again but Loki seemed impatient. It was also jarring to wake up in a forest that let in so little sunlight when it was supposed to be morning. The light shining down on Valhalla up on the hill ahead however made it look like silver was bathing the hillside. It was almost blinding to look upon even from miles away.

Unlike yesterday’s walk, Loki seemed more talkative this morning. He regaled you with a story about an adventure he and his brother had once when they were boys. They were in a forest much like this one back on Asgard, miles away from the palace. The adventure ended when Loki harassed a boar and he and Thor were chased up a tree. The boar finally abandoned the tree when sunset came round and when Loki and Thor came home hours after dark they were grounded for days.

“I bet your parents were worried sick,” you said when Loki finished.

“My mother, yes. My father on the other hand gave us a long lecture on duty and maturity, then returned to his own duties.”

“Well, I’m sure he was still worried about your safety while you were gone.”

Loki shrugged. “Perhaps. He never was much of a father figure. I expect nothing will have changed when we see him.”

“We’re going to see your father?”

“Yes. Odin rules Asgard as well as Valhalla. Well, he rules only Valhalla now since there is no Asgard any more.”

“I see.”

Valhalla was in clear view now. It towered at the top of the hill it resided, cutting through the clouds above. Looking at the inhabitants however, it was as if you never left Folkvangr. Vikings here were just the same as Vikings there. You wanted to look more, explore the different areas of interest of Valhalla but Loki was insistent on meeting his father first. You hustled behind him, trying to keep up with those long legs especially while traversing up the hill.

The grand doors of Valhalla were decorated with a silver depiction of Yggdrasil. Each of the realms was symbolized by a large gemstone. Asgard, a diamond; Midgard, a sapphire; Vanaheim, an emerald; Helheim, a black tourmaline; and so on. Loki didn’t seem to give the intricate artwork a second thought. He marched up to the large ornate doors and pulled on the handle. They didn’t budge. Loki lifted up knockers in the shape of the world serpent against the oak. A few minutes passed and he struck them against the doors again, harder.

Finally, a tall, middle-aged man with full Viking armor answered the door. For a Norseman, his hair was rather short.

“Yes?” The man’s eyes shifted between the two of you.

“We’ve been waiting here for minutes.”

“Wha’d you knock on the door for?”

“We could not get in.”

“You probably en’t supposed to be here then, if the doors won’t let you through normally.”

“An astounding observation. I need to see Odin. I am Loki, his son.” There was a long pause, almost a hiccup when he said ‘son’.

The man scratched his salt-and-pepper beard and looked between the two of you. He seemed to be deciding which of the two of you he found more out of place. After his consideration, he pulled open the door and stood aside for you.

“Follow me.”

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