#this is probably the darkest thing I've ever written

[waterlilyrose]

Hi, there. Concerning the story according to the show, not the book, what do you think would have happened if Kate had actually died of anaphylaxis after the bee sting? I think that's when, in the show, both Anthony and Kate realized they were in love (confirmed later during their first dance). So, what would Anthony have done with that information? My guess is he would have married Edwina so he could take care of Kate's family. Or at least offered, though I think he would tell Edwina they would only be married in name only and he would never lie with her and he will leave it to his brothers to continue the Bridgerton line. I mean, really, the more I think about it, I don't see Anthony surviving the mental illness brought on by having the same traumatic event happen to him twice. This is an utterly depression path to follow, but if you put on your Shakespearean tragedy cap on, how do you see this playing out?

Ooof that would have been rough. But you are probably right - there is only so much a person can take. Everyone's limits are different but once it's pushed too far, that's it.

He would be destroyed. Utterly broken. And full of regret that the time he did have with Kate was wasted playing pretend at being a perfect gentleman for a woman he only had a placid affection for and which she said again and again was a bad idea.

The house would fall into disarray. Lady Mary and Edwina's sobs could be heard echoing through Aubrey Hall, Lady Danbury would be silent because not even the quickest wit in the world could make the situation better and Anthony... He permits himself a week. One week of shutting himself in his room, refusing meals and letting the stubble build up on his jaw. He spends a lot of that time staring at nothing. And then after a week, he emerged from the study, freshly washed and shaved and went to his study to do some work.

There is no question about marrying Edwina now. It's just...not happening. And not just because of Anthony's inability to pursue it any further. Edwina will not HEAR of a marriage now. Her sister is gone and any semblance of childhood is over. And Kate had said, hadn't she, that Lord Bridgerton was a bad fit? How can her first act after Kate's passing be marrying a man she disapproved of? She didn't listen before but she must now.

Lord Bridgerton is kind and more than generous. He says that whomever Edwina marries, she will be provided for. He will pay her dowry, her Mama's upkeep, her modiste bills, whatever she wants. Her sister isn't here to do it now so he will.

Edwina starts to see, in her grief, what she would not believe - that the animosity between Lord Bridgerton and Kate might not have been pure hatred.

"I thought you and my sister hated each other?" She would ask timerously.

He'd smile sadly and say: "No...she hated me. And sometimes I wonder if she did in truth."

Eloise's season passes without a single word regarding Anthony's plans to marry. Anthony already knows he is about as likely to marry now as his mother is likely to remarry. It's just not going to happen.

The one time that the family sees almost an explosion of grief and anger from Anthony is about a year later. Violet mentions that they should travel to Aubrey Hall. Anthony doesn't even look up from his dinner when he refuses.

A year of Anthony's silent determination to work through the pain and to stop nagging his siblings on how to behave (truthfully what is the point?) means that Violet has fallen back into old habits of being a touch pushy and tries to guilt him into going. But he won't. No way. Absolutely not.

Then Violet tries to tell him that 'a few bad memories cannot keep them away'... it's nothing the Bridgertons haven't heard before but it triggers something in Anthony.

He slams down his cutlery on the table so hard that Hyacinth shrieks in alarm and silence rings out. Anthony is on his feet looking at Violet down the dinner table and, for the first time, Violet does not see her son but the Viscount. A man of power and status and influence. And it chills her to the bone.

"Bad memories? It holds a few bad memories? I lost the two people in my life that I worshipped the most. Both died in the garden; both died by a damn bee. And you want me to go back? You want me to have the servants air out the linen and plant new flowers while you start to lecture me about marriage again? I will NEVER set foot in Aubrey Hall again. And you better hope I don't. Because the house is in my name. I have the ownership. So there wouldn't be very much anyone could do...when I strike a match and watch as it burns to the ground."

Anthony leaves the room and no-one speaks for a long time.

Benedict is the next Viscount and Violet knows it. And she will never say another word about it.

[doodle17]

New Psychonauts oc just dropped fam

I'm about to show yalls the most f*cked up guy I've ever created

"Ah, Mr. Aquato. I'm glad you could make it. I've been waiting for a chance to Break Your Mind."

SO this is Tony Bridger 😬👍 that one absolutely irredeemable scumbag OC I've vaguely talked about. I guess I should get into his morals 'n backstory and yadda yadda yadda yadda

Basically, his Father created a machine that could send brainwaves or something like that, to control people. It was his life's work. Of course this was no good, so the Psychonauts were sent in to stop him. It was Sasha Nein himself in fact, who destroyed the machine. They never caught Mr. Bridger, as he took the young Tony and they went off the grid.

After his greatest invention was destroyed, the blueprints and notes all gone, Mr. Bridger went insane. It broke him, and he fell into madness. Tony tried his best to help the broken shambles of a man he knew as his father, but the poor kid was to young to be able to do anything.

Eventually, Mr. Bridger killed himself accidentally. He had stumbled onto some train tracks, got knocked out, and then a train came and ran over his unconscious body. The only family Tony had, which was already broken, was now gone. As if the insanity was infectious, Tony's mind seemed to break as well.

Its was those Psychonauts fault! It was that Agents fault! If they hadn't intervened, he'd still have a father. He didn't care if he took over the world, burned it to the ground. The only man he had to take care of him was gone, and it was all their fault.

So Tony's next plan, was to take action on how to help himself cope. In the worst. Way. Imaginable.

Since the age 14 he's been perfecting this twisted method. He somehow manged how to astrally project someone without a Psy-portal or a Brain Tumbler, and pull them into his mind. This is where the fun stuff starts

As if he's been working on it months, he's able to dig around your subconscious, find people you love, hate, respect, it doesn't matter, and twist and deform them into monsters to torment and torture you. He can create mental constructs in a matter of seconds somehow, with puzzles and monster so insane and so vile, any person who he drags into his mind...

Goes Mad.

When he was 20, he was discovered practicing this disgusting and ominous way of torment, and was thrown into one of the biggest prisons/insane asylum for Psychics ever. That thing, around his neck, is basically a psy-lock, but more powerful, and it gives you the nastiest shock anytime you try to use your powers.

He's not very worried about his position, however. In fact, he's actually quite happy he was thrown in there. Why, you may ask? Because this means he closer to the top agents. The ones who ruined his life in the first place.

Sasha, Milla, Coach, Lili and Raz have to go and try to find a way removed Tony's Brain from his body to be sedated, without having anything bad go wrong, but of course, bad things do, in fact, go wrong.

Because how do you get revenge on the very Agent who broke the one you cared most about?

By breaking one of the people they care about most as well, of course!

Oh yeah, the angst is strong with this one *rubs hands together deviously*

Yeah, I wanna try and make a fic or somthing with this guy soon. It'll be fun! Angsty, graphic, depressing and violent fun~

Sorry for the long post btw I've just been thinking about this guy's backstory a lot. Trying to make him sound evil, but with an actual reason to be

[nemaliwrites]

why did i take this PH. why am i already [REDACTED] over the minimum word count. why do i still have so many scenes to write. why do i exist

[myfanfictiongarden]

The Last Day of Violet Sedley- Dracula (1897)

Rated M just in case (although its more T)

Because we are all concerned for the pretty girl in the cartwheel hat on September 22nd.

--------------------

Violet Sedley is having a great day. Most days are great if you decide to make them so- at least, that is the way of thinking she was brought up with and so she made it her way of living too. How wouldn’t it be a great day when the soft autumn sun is caressing her face as she comfortably drives in her victoria through the finest streets of London? Her father may have startet out as a simple merchant but his clever wit and a good marriage had led him to the best circles of Society, and with it his only daughter too. And what better ways to celebrate and expand that good fortune, than with a party like the one she is to organise for today evening? It has long been planed and the scullery maid send out to the butcher first thing this morning. The cupboard had been filled with fresh vegetables and ousters, fruit and wine were waiting ready, and the whole house was made as perfect as could be. 

So now she is driving through the streets of Piccadilly, having made one social call long overdue to the good Mrs. Wallace (the old lady tended to be a bit tiresome but she had been her mothers closes friend) and stopping only for a moment at Guiliano’s for a parcel she had ordered previously to be ready for her when driving back home. She loves driving to town, it offers such a welcoming change to her usual duties, not to mention one can dress up nicely and enjoy the looks of admiration that come with it. That is why to today she wears a dress of sunny yellow and a complementary jacket embroidered with sunflowers and tiny bees, and of course her new cartwheel hat- a gift of her brother directly from Paris. She doesn’t consider herself vain, for she knows, she knows beauty alone does not bring happiness or a long life. But if the world of God´s creation was filled with so much beauty why not rejoice in it? That is another reason why she loves to go to town, for here one has an overflow of beauty in various forms, be it the stores with dresses and jewellery, shops with cakes and pastries, or simply the abundance of all sorts of people, both from the isles and those foreigners from exotic places. Her brother had invited her to join him in India, but she had immediately declined, unwilling to leave their father alone, and maybe also a little bit afraid to travel to the far unknown. There was little that lacked in her current life, her position allowing her to lead her own household without even being married, although she was very well in the age of marriage. But no, she couldn’t as yet leave her father alone. If a fine man came into her life he would need to wait. 

The merchant comes out with her parcel and she pulls out some coins from her purse and accompanies them with a smile before telling the coachman to drive on. It is a busy day in the streets, people crossing from one side to the other, always moving, full of life. For a moment her eye catches sight of a man with the looks of a foreigner like she had never seen before, hard eyes, a dark moustache and pointed beard. It is only for a moment that she sees him but she thinks that this may be an exotic encounter she would gladly like to avoid.

---

By the time the first guests arrive everything is ready. She herself is welcoming them, now dressed in an evening gown of soft blue, lace around her shoulders, her neck bare but pearl earrings swinging joyfully while her dark hair is made in the latest fashion. Her father is dressed in the best way as well, his tall thin frame having at least lost the ghastly palour that had accompanied him throughout most of the past three years, his smile warm and gentle once more. She is proud of her father for making it out through the worst of times after their loss, but sees her own accomplishment in it as well for having firmly taken care of all matters that he could not by himself. With brother away, it was just the two of them after all. 

Dinner goes smoothly and everyone is enjoying themselves, she included, for she does notice young Mr. Norris glancing more than once in her direction across the table. He is a fine man she knows, his family being well established in ship building business, his own taste in music having been a wonderful topic for their last conversation. When at last the last fork is resting she leads the women to the drawing room where the men are shortly to join them for coffee and cherry. The fire in the mantelpiece is radiating a warm glow as she leads polite small-talk, all while glancing at the door eager for the gentlemen finally to enter, only to be disappointed when Mr. Norris is immediately encircled by Mrs. Bentley and Mrs. Hunt while she has to wait for her turn, if she doesn’t want to be included in their gossipy circle. 

The day has been unusually warm for this time of year and the air in the drawing room becomes too heavy and stuffy for her. Excusing herself for a moment she makes her way out to the hallway and then out to the garden. Yes, outside it’s better she thinks as she draws a deep breath of clear fresh air. It is a clear night, with stars shining brightly and a young moon giving out a pale soft light, only a few clouds marring the skies. The scent of late autumn flowers and freshly fallen leaves in nearly intoxicating, and she thinks she will leave her window open tonight. Just as she is about to turn back and go inside, out of the corner of her eye she notices movement in the shadow of the house, before the figure moves forward and she is faced with the shape of a man. It is dark but she can see he is nicely dressed. One of fathers guests? Have I noticed him inside or did he come only later in?

“A beautiful night, isn’t it?” He speaks, and by his accent she notices that he isn’t English.

“Yes, indeed, a fine night for this time of the year, Mr. …?”

“Mr. Balaur. Forgive me miss if I had startled you. I only just arrived and needed, although the company is fine inside no doubt, a bit of refreshment.” As he spoke he moved even closer and in the pale light of the moon and lights from the house she had now a better look at him. He was tall, with raven dark hair, strong brows, a thin moustache and a pointed beard, his clothes black and elegant, the neckcloth darkly red, held together with a pin that looked very much like a winged snake. His face seemed familiar but she simply could not place it so she decided He must be one of fathers business partners from abroad.

“Yes, a fine night, a night that reminds us that Night is older than Day, and as that the true form of everything.” 

It is at moment that she registers that something is off, something is very off about all of this, for, while she wanted to go inside a minute earlier, she finds herself now firmly rooted to the ground, listening to Mr. Balaur yet unable to answer him back. Stange that my tongue and my legs are so heavy. Yet, it takes only one slight touch of his hand of her arm and her legs respond, and she finds herself walking, walking outside of the garden gate.

---

It is already late in the night and the streets are empty as the two of them walk through them, his arm firm around hers, improper in any way but even stranger as she doesn’t know why she complines. Their footsteps are the only sound heard, the world has fallen so very quiet, and she glanced up at his face, trying to remember. He doesn’t look very old, more the age of Mr. Norris perhaps, and … Could it be that I am walking with Mr. Norris? But no, Mr. Norris has curly auburn hair, while Mr. What’s His Name has long dark. What was his name again? 

They walk and walk, and vaguely she notices that they have left the inhabited area somewhere behind, wild fields surrounding them, the road not longer even but turned to rough gravel. There is a numb pain in her legs, her shoes not for walking, and it seems to her like blisters have opened up and blood is beginning to soak her thin stockings and expansive shoes. Yet she keeps walking, guided by some silent command, the pain nothing more than a vague feeling unconnected to her. 

And when he stops and takes her hand in his she follows dutifully as if she had been asked for a dance, the same excitement in her, although she cannot phantom why. I should be home, although I don’t know where home is… her mind says but her body doesn’t respond.He leads her to a tall old oak, its breaches wildly stretching in all directions, its crown like a tent shielding everything into darkness. Her mind, her mind is so foggy and unclear, Maybe it was that one glass of punch too much, but no, everything is odd and queer, and her passiveness most of all. He had let her all into the shade of this great oak, her back resting on its bark, He towering tall above her. Bits of moonlight come through the branches as his right hand with its long pale fingers caresses her cheek, placing a silencing finger on her lips, as if to quiet a protest she cannot make herself do. She notices herself leaning her head to the other side without her will while his fingers trace her bare neck, and coming upon the lace on her shoulders He moves it down, night air making her shiver. Her gaze is locked in his, in anticipation of something she does not know, yet which makes her heart beat fast and faster until she can hear blood rushing loud in her ears. His eyes are horribly dark, his face as pale as the moon, and as his lips move into a sly smile his teeth come bare, sharp and white. He leans in as she closes her eyes, his lips on her neck, one hand on her shoulder the other on her back. And then his teeth pierce her skin and a pain, a horrible pain shoots through her body. Unbearable heat is in her veins and she is burning, burning from the inside as both her eyes and mouth shot open. She wants to scream for help but her voice deserts her, her lungs in desperate need for air. Help!, she needs help, she wants to fight and move, yet her arms hang limb by her sides. His grip on her is still firm but the burning ceases, replaced by unnatural cold and emptiness. Desperately she tries to force that dark vail from her mind, the one that’s holding her in this nightmare. A face dances in front of her, the face of an old man broken and in tears. She cannot remember who that man is, but a silent tear escapes her empty eyes as well.

This is how ends Violet Sedley’s not so great day.

[angelicsoka]

SARA, l. hughes

word count | 1.3k

pairings | luke hughes x fem!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x reader, platonic!jack hughes x reader

summary | luke’s girlfriend has suffered in silence for too long, and luke noticed the warning signs too late

warnings | HEAVY themes of suicide and suicidal ideation, mentions of self-harm and depression, underage drinking and smoking, mentions of blood. ANGST ANGST ANGST, open ending, this is not a happy fic, luke is fucking oblivious. based on the song sara by we three. no use of "y/n". lowercase intended

a/n | this is my first time posting in here so i'm still figuring out how this all works lol. this is NOT proofread. also this is probably the darkest thing i have ever really written.

little sara, you're a diamond in the rough

and i know that you don't hear this all enough

and i'm sure that's why your wrists have tons of cuts

and i'm sure that's why you think you're not enough

fingers traced over the faded scars and onto the raised ones, the urge more than she can handle. but she deserved this. she deserved to feel so shitty, she was shitty. she ruined everything good she had, her relationships and job. a repeated process, be happy for a while and then fuck everything up. “who would care if she fucked one more thing?” was the thought that ran through her head, crimson covering the sink.

your mind can only think about the things it shouldn't

your brain is filled with thoughts of wishing that ya didn't

little sara, perk your ears up, try to listen

but she can't hear a sound because she's locked in a prison

the room was loud, but the noise sounded so far away as she dazed off. she was brought back to reality by luke swinging his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. the sudden movement made her quietly hiss as her arm brushed against him, the fresh wounds in the back of her mind. she forced a smile on her face, looking to luke who gently kissed her forehead. he offered her a beer, to which she took, ignoring the concerned look on quinn’s face. she had been drinking all night  but luke didn't have to know that. it slowed the thoughts, so how could it be a bad thing?

luke began to chat with his brothers and their friends, oblivious to the smile that had dropped from her face. oblivious to the fact that she was practically chugging the beer in hopes to stop the horrible thoughts that had begun to invade her brain once more.

and she was oblivious to the concerned looks of her boyfriend and friends as she abruptly got up, walking outside. she sat down, pulling the cigarette from its box, lighting it. she took a drag, jumping when a voice spoke up:

“you’re killing yourself, you know that?” she whipped her head around to see quinn standing there with his hands in his pockets. “does luke know you smoke?”

“why do you care?” she snapped, turning to look back at the yard. it was quiet, crickets chirping being the only thing making noise. she ignored quinn as he sat beside her, taking another drag. she held back her tears, not wanting to break down in front of her boyfriend’s oldest brother.

“he loves you, you know? the way he looks at you says it all. you're good for him. i don’t think i've seen him this happy in a long time.” she forced a small smile at quinn’s attempt to comfort her. he was lying, he had to be, because who could love a fuck up like her?

all your friends they wanna smoke 'cause it's a friday

but you've been smoking straight probably since last sunday

i know you know you shouldn't say that you are okay

but you still look 'em in the eye and lie then go to use your ashtray

she was high, but when was she not? the boys passed around the blunt, each taking drags from it. they were joking around, jack and trevor wrestling beside her. luke held her close, his fingers gently running down her arm. she ignored the burning sensation that occurred when luke’s fingers accidentally brushed over her wound, a smile plastered on her face. luke seemed to be the only who didn’t notice that the smile didn’t meet her eyes. she huffed out a laugh at a joke made by cole, settling her head against luke’s shoulder. for a moment, she felt happy; carefree. 

that all ended when that singular thought crossed her mind: they hate you. such a simple thought, but she felt as though she had been sucker punched. she subtly shifted off of luke, who seemingly didn’t notice. she twiddled with her thumbs, ignoring the feeling of someone looking at her. she felt jack nudge her, handing her the blunt. she accepted it, unable to really meet his eyes. “you okay?” quinn mouthed to her when she met his eyes. 

“yeah.” she lied through her teeth, averting her eyes and grabbing the ashtray.

little sara, last night, you got it bad

in that moment, you could barely even

add up two or three reasons why you're glad

and i guess that's why you grabbed your pen and pad

it was 6:14, and you could barely even read

all the words you'd written down when it was time for you to leave

your phone was on the ground and you could barely hear it ring

couldn't even hear a sound, couldn't feel a single thing

nights were the worst. being alone in her thoughts led to serious consequences, this night no different. she did what she was suppose to, all the coping skills she had learned. still, she couldn’t come up with any reason to stick around, which is why she now sat at her desk, scribbling rapidly. she couldn’t hardly read the words on the paper, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks as she practically destroyed her desk in search of the blade. the distance sound of her phone ringing stopped her for a moment, the contact name and picture for luke clear on her phone. she pushed the second-guessing thoughts aside, muting the call.

luke swore when she once again did not pick up, the text that started this now open: i love you, lukey. i hope you can forgive me. he swore to himself, angry that he had missed the signs. as he thought about it, the signs were so clear, how could he have not noticed? he begged for jack to drive faster, dialing her number once more. luke wiped his tears as jack sped up, praying for her to be okay. he hoped he would make it in time, to be there when she needed him most.

now it's 6:15, and you're on your knees

blood is on your sleeves, and your lungs won't breathe

eyes are watering, body's shivering

and you're wondering what is happening

now it's 6:23, and they're on their knees

begging "jesus please, can you make her breathe?"

'cause they finally see what was happening

underneath their nose and underneath your sleeves 

she sat against her bed, sobs racking through her body. her chest was tight, her breaths short as she began to lose consciousness. she began to shiver uncontrollably, curling into herself to create any kind of warmth. she looked up when the door was kicked in, her vision blurring. her eyes fluttered close as luke ran to her side, her life slowly leaving her body. 

“get something to stop the bleeding!” luke yelled to jack who was frozen under the doorframe. he snapped out of it, grabbing the blanket that was balled up on her bed. he began to put pressure on her wounds as luke pleaded with her to wake up. they continued this until the paramedics arrived, luke hesitant to leave her side. for the first time in a long time, luke cried into his brother’s shoulder. and he swore to himself that he would never miss the signs again.

she can barely see the pavement

she can barely read the signs

people think she's complicated

but never wanna look inside

'cause she's a little too r-rated

and they're a little too damn blind

she's just looking for her angels

but they're a little hard to find

[babyjakes]

devils roll the dice.

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event | kinkmas 2023

prompts | sex tape + medfet

pairing | hitman!robert pronge x innocent!reader

warnings | extremely dark, the darkest thing i've ever written (we've entered dead dove do not eat territory; please heed ALL warnings.) canon-level mature themes: kidnapping, torture films, murder. implications that reader will be killed. robert is cold and ruthless. innocent!virgin!reader. filming of illicit sex tape. reader is blindfolded and gagged. restraints. medfet elements: robert's little setup is giving vintage white tile exam room, exam table, stirrups, those gd black gloves, speculum use. clit focus (puff puff content incoming.) vibrator. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. mocking and degradation. robert puts a cig out on reader's leg. written in 3rd person idk.

word count | 1,485

an | i'm kind of sitting here like wtf, ,, what is this and how did it come out of me lol. a little nervous to post, but i trust you guys to make responsible decisions about the media you consume!!! i'll probably never write something this fucked up again but for whatever reason it was just flowing out of me tonight folks, please again i'm begging you go read the warnings, like a second time through wouldn't hurt lol, and i hope you enjoy!!

Bringing its bitter end to his lips, Robert used one hand to draw in a deep breath of his dwindling cigarette, the other lazily holding a black magic wand in its designated place. He was nearly an hour into the day's filming session, and his subject was reaching a level of exhaustion and misery that made her more annoying to play with than anything else. But knowing he needed to milk at least a little more footage out of her before putting her back under and calling it a day, the man kept at the task. He tried to remind himself that he should be enjoying himself; considering the kinds of commissions he generally had to choose from, this particular case was a treat. A pretty little virgin, as soft and pure as the early spring rain, with the most stunning body the criminal had ever had the privilege of defiling. He could spend another thirty minutes at his station, watching as all the life and dignity were drained out of his poor little victim like blood dripping to the cold tile floor.

Through the musty cloth rammed between her battered lips, the poor girl's cries were escalating as her tormentor swirled the curve of the wand's slick bulb over her burning clit. Robert knew what her worsening wails meant; with a callous grin, he pulled his cig from his mouth just in time to press its smoking end to the girl's inner thigh as she came. With the howl she let out, he was thankful for the buffer the gag provided. "Noisy little bitch," he laughed as her juices sprayed out against his gloved hands. "That's it, slut. Fucking take it."

Glancing at the camcorder sitting off to his side, Robert considered his options. As much satisfaction as he derived from seeing how many orgasms could be wrung out of the poor thing before her body knocked her out as an act of mercy, his sadistic tendencies were getting bored of the monotony. Tossing the used cigarette to the floor, the man slowed the wand to a stop. He rolled away slightly on his stool, tossing the condom that was wrapped over the toy's head into the large black trash bag sitting in the center of the large room's floor. This far into his career, Robert had his methods down to a science. There was a way to keep everything clean, everything untraceable.

It was the whole purpose of his "worksite"; it provided a secure, controlled environment for the entire job to take place in, from start to flatline finish. The "set" was by far his favorite portion of the space, and understandably so, as it's where his sick imagination got to run wild for hours, days on end. And his clients were just as enthusiastic about the vivid stage he had put together for their subjects to shine on. It was somewhat inspired by a vintage gynecology office. He had the classic off-white exam table, equipped with a daunting pair of metal stirrups that were always positioned just a little wider than what would be comfortable. A sturdy set of restraints were of course a must, and to make sure the camera picked up on every agonizing detail, he had installed an adjustable surgical light overhead that could be aimed and drawn in to illuminate any area or action he chose. He hadn't struggled to gather all the tools and instruments he could ever want, either. A few of his buyers were licensed professionals themselves, opening the door to acquiring inventory from the big-name brands in bulk.

The other corners of the room had their designated uses as well: one with a filthy mattress for the unconscious victims to waste away on as heavy drugs pumped through their systems, another with large plastic sheets covering the floor, walls, and ceiling where the poor souls were hosed down (inside and out) before a bullet to the temple inevitably ended their long days of suffering. But most of their waking hours were spent on that dreaded padded table, the very spot where Robert's most recent capture was using the few moments he spent away from his station desperately trying to regain control of her breathing.

He returned to his position swiftly after switching out his soiled pair of black gloves for fresh ones, not wanting to waste any of his or his client's time. The sight of the girl's abused sex was enough to make the man drool; it had been quite some time since he had seen such a marvelous-looking cunt, so glorious in its messy destruction. Knowing he should share the beautiful sight, he took the time to adjust the camera, zooming in from a full-body shot to focus solely on the spot between the victim's legs. With the humiliating inspection he was preparing to perform, he wanted to be sure his buyer got to see each drop of come the poor girl let out, every twitch and spasm he would pull from her helpless body.

"Now let's see here," the man breathed as he brought his gloved fingers up to gently spread out the ruined-looking pussy before him. Noticing the way his subject winced as her puffy folds were pried open, he couldn't help but laugh in dark delight. He drew his attention to her throbbing clit, noting how much it had grown in size from all those unwanted orgasms he had forced out of her. Its hood was completely retracted, leaving the poor bud exposed to the open air. In a moment of perverted curiosity, Robert pinched the hardened nub harshly between his fingers, earning the prettiest sob he had heard from the girl all day. He chuckled once more, rolling and pulling at the knot of flesh for a few more seconds of additional torture before finally moving his hands away.

"What do you think? Should we try for one more?" he mused mockingly as he grabbed a plastic speculum from one of the drawers built in beneath the table, unwrapping it and tossing its trash to the side before pausing to grin deviously over his victim. Glancing up at her head, he realized it was still covered with a black hood he had put on her at the beginning of the shoot. The buyer had requested for her to be blindfolded like this for a decent portion of the film, offering the explanation that she was "afraid of the dark," and that he wanted to see her in as much pain and fear as humanly possible. The hood had served its purpose for the day, but now, Robert wanted the poor girl to see each and every way he was going to be violating her body in real time. In one swift motion, he reached up and pulled the pocket of fabric away, exposing her stunning tear-stained face. "Hi sweetheart," he greeted viciously. Just as he was hoping, her cries worsened as she saw the dreaded tool in his hands. He had a certain liking for holding up the devices he was preparing to use to see his victim's reactions; after all, he got off on fear and dread just as much as his clients did.

"Time to open up this pretty little cunt and see what kind of damage we did," the man enthused as he forced the tip of the instrument into the girl's drenched opening. By now, she had been well stretched out and ruined by her captor's horrific methods. Grappling with his usual lack of restraint and self-control, Robert had barely made the drive back with the girl tied up in his trunk without pulling over and popping that perfect little cherry on his own time, without a single camera properly rolling.

Turning the speculum as it was fully inserted, the man took great pleasure in squeezing the handle to force the tool open, each tiny click that sounded only stretching the poor thing's aching walls out to a further, more painful degree. "There," he sighed in satisfaction as the last notch was reached. Pulling his hands away, he gave himself and the camera a few seconds to enjoy the view of the girl's milky insides, so worn and sore from the days of torture she'd endured.

"Alright. One more," he finally hummed, using his gloved fingers to collect some of the plentiful slick dripping from the speculum before dragging them up to find that adorable little button he loved bullying so much. Her fading sobs were revived in an instant, her throat growing hoarse from all the screaming she'd done. But as much as she cried, Robert was determined to get one final orgasm from her before putting her back under for the day. After spending so much time making that pretty pussy as puffy and sensitive as possible, he deserved to see it coming all stretched out painfully over his instrument of choice.

[thebiggerbear]

Tom Hanniger x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Tom has taken you hostage. This is not the Tom you knew and fell in love with. Unable to escape, can you get him to trust you and maybe even reach him?

Pairing: Tom Hanniger x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. So, just out of the gate, not gonna lie, this is one of the most fucked up things I've ever written and probably the darkest. Story wise I mean. There's something about Tom and that world from the movie that I love exploring. Before I knew it, this was nearing 18K and I was like "Crap, time to wrap this up!" I still enjoyed the exploration of Tom and the reader though in the dynamic they're in during this one.

I tried my best do my research and be respectful in regards to DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) but also keep this a few years post-movie (2009) while also staying within the context the movie provided but also explore a bit, if that makes sense. Please note I do not work in the psychiatry, psychology, or medical fields. If I got anything appallingly incorrect about this disorder, its symptoms, its treaments, anything, please let me know. Also, I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway), not every single person who has been diagnosed with DID is violent or a threat to others nor are their alters violent or a threat to others. Obviously, this is just a work of fanfiction based on a fictional story where the main character had an alter that was violent and a threat to everyone. No harm or disrespect is intended with this fanfiction at all.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: explicit violence; hostage situation; mentions of knives; dubcon; sex (smut-light); explicit descriptions of murder; mentions of burying a body; explicit threats of physical violence; explicit threat of sexual violence; explicit threat of neonaticide (I highly recommend looking this word up if you don't know what it means so you can decide if you still want to read from there; I didn't feel comfortable spelling it out here to be honest); physical threat of neonaticide; explicit threats of murder; mention of past sexual violence; mention of past sexual assault; implied past domestic abuse; misogynistic language; language

Word Count: 18k+

Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Dean version | Jenny version | Jason version | Anael version | SDV Alex version

<-->

When you came to, you glanced around the cabin you were currently tied up in. Tears blurred your vision, strands of your hair matted to your face, and you could feel the gag cutting tightly into the sides of your mouth. You didn’t bother trying to yell or make noise. You knew the cabin you were in since Tom had brought you here once to see it; there was no one and nothing around for miles. The next town over where Tom could get supplies was the closest thing and that was about an hour’s drive. 

How had things gone so wrong? You tried to be a good person, you always tried to do the right thing…so how did you end up here?

You already knew the answer to that, though. Because you let him in. Literally, right through your front door.

As if your thoughts summoned him, Tom appeared from the kitchen with two plates in hand and a huge grin, despite a black eye and cut lip he was sporting. He laid yours down in front of you and you could see chicken parmesan, your favorite, surrounded by linguini and green beans. He then placed down his own plate in front of his empty chair before turning back to you with a look of determination. “Alright. Let’s get this off you. No screaming, okay?” He asked, using a softer tone than you’d heard from him all day. “No struggling. And no running.” As if there was any point in screaming or running; no one would hear you and he’d catch you before you made it ten feet. He loosened your gag and pushed it down past your chin to hang around your neck. When you didn’t scream, he graced you with a warm smile. “Good girl,” he murmured as he began working on the ropes tying your hands to the chair. When he moved down to the ones on your legs, you rubbed at your sore wrists, noting a few surface cuts around your arms. He noticed and a frown formed on his face. “Sorry, I won’t tie them as tightly next time,” he promised. You didn’t know what else to do but nod.

When he was finished, he sat up and his fingers gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His green gaze bore into yours and he tenderly trailed the backs of his fingers against your cheek, almost watching you in some sort of odd reverence that you had no idea existed until the last couple of months. He began to lean in, presumably to try and kiss you like he had earlier, but he must have thought better of it and stopped, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he got to his feet. While you were grateful he hadn’t connected his lips to yours, you had to wonder what deterred him and that made you worry. He studied you for a moment and, just as you feared, he then made his way over to the other chair being used, his soft expression immediately hardening and his warm eyes icing over as they settled on your estranged husband.

He grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him away from the table, choosing to dump him in a corner on his side, making Miles groan in pain. Tom kicked him for good measure and you heard Miles yell out against the gag in his mouth. 

“Please,” burst out of you. “Please, Tom, don’t!”

Tom’s glare snapped up towards you. “After everything he’s done to you, don’t tell me you’re still protecting him.”

You knew you had to act quickly, to cajole Tom so you could draw his focus away from Miles. You were the only reason Miles wasn’t dead yet, you knew that without a doubt. “I’m not,” you soothed. “I just want to eat the dinner you went to the trouble of making for me. It’s been hours since I last ate and I really need to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, too. Please, just come and sit down.”

Thankfully, Tom’s eyes softened a little at your pleading but he still gave Miles one more good kick that made you flinch before he came over to join you. He pulled a knife out of his jacket which made your heart start to pound a little faster but he simply smiled as he also produced a plastic fork. He leaned down and began to cut your chicken into bite size pieces for you. “I, uh, I’ve never made chicken parmesan before so I hope it’s alright,” he told you, a shy smile on his face. You marveled at how he could go from being the scariest thing you’d seen in your life one minute to being the sweetest and most humble guy you’d ever met in the next. “And I know green beans aren’t what would usually go with this dish but I didn’t really have anything else.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“I’m okay with green beans,” you quietly assured him.

He dropped his hand and smiled, looking relieved and leaning in to tenderly kiss you. You tried your best not to tense up as he did. Tom then made his way over to his seat, leaving you the fork but not the knife. Not only did he not want to chance you using it on him but he most likely didn’t want you using it on yourself either. You never would but he obviously wasn’t too sure about that. You watched as he poured both of you a glass of sparkling cider and sat down a few battery-operated candles between you.

When he handed you your glass, you were disappointed to find it was plastic. He really had thought of everything. He misread your expression and assured you, “I know it’s not the best but I wanted something nice for you for dinner. I’ll get something better though, next time I’m in town. I promise.” You offered up a thin-lipped smile and a nod which seemed to placate him for the time being. So he planned to keep you for a while then. You only hoped Miles would keep his mouth shut and that you could get Tom to start trusting you as you waited for an opportunity that might come your way with the aforementioned trip to town.

Tom took the seat across from you, smiling, and reached over to touch his glass to yours. You watched as he took a sip and after a moment, you joined him, making him grin happily.

As hungry as you were, you weren’t in a rush to eat anything that he had prepared for you out of sight. What if he was intent on drugging you? You weren’t even sure if he hadn’t before. You barely remembered how you got here. All you knew was Miles showed up, having found you, and Tom reacted, then nothing until you woke up here. The only other thing you remembered was blonde hair and so much blood— You tried to shut that thought out. Thinking about Tom again, If he planned to keep you here for a while, he’d have to sleep at some point and he could be planning to drug you then, like right now. And God only knew what he planned to do with Miles; you prayed you could somehow convince him to let the man go while you stayed behind (even though that would be just as dangerous for you). Though Tom hadn’t been wrong; Miles didn’t deserve your compassion. But that didn’t mean you wanted to watch the man you’d once shared a life with die brutally either. If Tom’s distaste for your husband was anything to go by, if he decided to end Miles, it would indeed be brutal.   

“Something wrong?” 

The question snapped you out of your reverie. You glanced up to find Tom watching you worriedly. You forced a reassuring smile onto your face. “No. Of course not.”

“I thought you needed to eat.” His eyes bored into you, flicking back and forth from the plate to you.

“I will. I’m just…taking it slow.”

He frowned at your food. “It’s not that good, is it?”

“What? No. No,” you worked to reassure him. “It’s just that…” You didn’t want to voice the words and chance angering him.

“Just what?” When you couldn’t think of a way to phrase it and kept quiet instead, he urged you in a softer tone, “Eat, sweetheart.”

You realized then that you had no choice but to take a few bites if you didn’t want to do anything to anger or upset him. You hoped to God that there was nothing in it.

Almost as if he read your mind, his jaw tightened as he went to spear more chicken with his fork on his plate. “There’s nothing in it if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that to you.” His eyes lifted to yours, that soft reverence back in them. “To either of you.” He flicked them to your round stomach in meaning and then back to you again.

You wanted to believe him, especially when he looked at you like that, but wouldn’t it be easier for him to be rid of the child that wasn’t his? Then again, he hadn’t killed Miles yet and he fancied himself in love with you, and you were currently housing said child… Perhaps he truly didn’t mean your baby harm, while it was in utero at least.

Tom let out a heavy sigh and dropped the fork, making it clatter against his plate. He was now scowling over at you, clearly displeased at your show of distrust in him. Uh oh.

Now definitely without a choice, you took a forkful of chicken and slowly bit into it. He seemed pleased with the action and after a moment, continued to eat himself. As you quietly chewed, you realized that it wasn’t half bad, and you were starving. As scared as you were, you knew you would need to keep up your energy for any opportunity to escape, to get you and your baby to safety, and truthfully, you needed to take any chance at a meal that you could. Tom smiled to himself as you really dug in. 

You had halfway cleaned your plate when you heard “So it’s okay?”

You stopped to see Tom sitting there, leaning forward and watching your every movement, the biggest grin on his face. You swallowed down the chicken you had just stuffed into your mouth and held a hand over your lips self-consciously. “Good,” you admitted quietly. “Very…good.”

Satisfied with that answer and himself, he sat back in his chair and continued to smile over at you. Though it was unnerving, you continued to finish your meal, your goal being to keep your strength up for your baby. When you were done, he got to his feet and grabbed his plate, slowly making his way over to you. Your heart pounded with each heavy footstep and it nearly stopped when he reached you. 

Tom grabbed your empty plate and slid his still half-full one in front of you, placing your fork onto it. When you turned a puzzled expression up towards him, he leaned down and pecked your lips, murmuring to you, “You two need it more than I do.” He kissed you one more time before he walked away, heading into the kitchen. You watched him go in shock, thoughts racing in your mind. Knowing he had eaten some of the food and remembering his promise, after mulling it over for a minute or two, you then dug in, your focus on the chicken and green beans. You needed as much energy as you could get.

<-->

He spooned you that night after insisting you take the only bed in the place — his bed. You felt him press a tender kiss to the back of your neck every few minutes and while that made you uncomfortable, his hands gently rubbing your belly had you absolutely terrified. You imagined all sorts of horrible things as you laid there in the dark, with only a shaft of moonlight sneaking into the room through an opening in the curtains. You kept expecting a knife to be pulled, a fist to collide with your bump, to feel the stab of a hypodermic needle — something. It got so bad that you started to shake and Tom, thinking you were cold, moved the blanket over you both a little higher before resuming his ministrations. You wanted nothing more than to throw his hands off of you and get out of the bed, moving away from him. It was one thing for him to have his hands on you, though now it made your skin crawl in the worst way, but your baby…you would give anything to keep him away from the one person you’d do anything to protect.

You were frozen in fear despite the tremors of your body. You felt the baby move and while that should have overjoyed you like it usually did, it caused tears to start rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you. How much longer would you get to feel that? How much longer would Tom allow you to keep your baby?

“Oh,” he exhaled against your neck. “She’s kicking.”

You closed your eyes, forcing more tears to fall, as your lips trembled. You thought back to the first time he’d come into contact with your baby this way. You had been such a fool — such a blind, trusting, naive fool. 

You were cleaning a wooden frame of a painting with a rag when you felt the familiar movement within your tummy. “Oh,” you chuckled, holding a hand to the side of your stomach. 

“Are you okay?” 

You glanced up to find Tom up on a ladder, watching you with furrowed brows. You gave him a bright smile. “Yeah, of course. The baby’s kicking. Come down here, quick.”

Still looking worried, Tom hurried down the ladder and approached you. 

“Give me your hand.” You grabbed the hand he offered up and placed it right where you had just felt movement. Tom glanced back and forth between you and your stomach, looking unsure for what he should be feeling.

A moment later, the baby kicked again. “There! You feel it?”

You knew he must have because an expression of surprise and awe came over his handsome face as he stared down where you held his hand. 

Another kick happened and it made you laugh. “Oh, she’s very active today.”

Tom smiled over at you. “You’re having a girl?”

“Well, I don’t really know what I’m having yet but,” You grinned, feeling yet another kick. “I hope it is.”

“Then I hope it is, too.” You glanced up to find him watching you with that soft look you’d seen before. You gently squeezed his hand in thanks and then focused again on your bump. 

Tom had been helping you restore the old house you’d moved into. You felt comfortable around Tom, he put you immediately at ease when you met. He’d been a huge help to you and when you had moments like that, you just chalked it up to him maybe having a little crush on you. At least that’s what Cindy, a new friend of yours (and the realtor who’d helped you find the place), said the first time she’d seen you two together when she stopped by to see how you were doing and how the house was coming along. But you never thought anything more of it. Tom never made a move or asked you out. He also never encroached on your personal space without invitation or pushed past your boundaries. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable. As you got to know him, you began to trust him.

But now, you wondered how you could have ever been so stupid.  

“You feel that, Y/N?” He breathed, grabbing your hand and holding it to your stomach. “She kicked again.” His tone was so full of wonder and happy surprise that you immediately started to cry. His hand traveled from your stomach up to your hair, smoothing it away from your face. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” You could hear the sudden concern. 

“Are you going to kill my baby?” You choked out on a sob.

You felt him turn you onto your back so he could look down at you. He looked less than pleased but he murmured, “No. I told you, I would never hurt either of you. I love you.” He inclined his head towards your stomach. “And her. Everything I’m doing is for you both. I wish you would believe me, Y/N.”

“I really want to,” you cried.

He wiped at your tears and stroked your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you. This time, you opened up for him when he sought entrance beyond your lips and you knew he was pleased by the little groan he let escape into your mouth. You didn’t protest when his hands roamed all over your body, thankfully steering clear of your stomach. You didn’t say a word when he stripped you of your clothes, whispering “Beautiful” as he uncovered every inch of your skin. You didn’t fight when he urged you to open up for him and his tender touch brought you to heights you had never reached before with a partner other than him that left you gasping for air. As you shivered and shook, unable to keep from crying out, and dug your fingernails into his arm, he smiled lovingly down at you. While you came back down, he pressed kisses to your hair, face, and lips. He watched you, almost if he was waiting for something, so you hesitantly reached out for the button on his jeans, thinking you now needed to return the favor, when he stopped you.

“This was about you,” he murmured before kissing you. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

You nodded, not wanting to disagree in the slightest. He pulled the blankets up over your naked form and urged you onto your side again, away from him. He spooned you once more and placed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.” His hand then cupped over your belly protectively. “Both of you.”  

You bit your lip to keep the tears from starting up again. God, you hoped that was true.

<-->

The next morning, you woke up alone, feeling groggier than usual. You panicked for a moment, thinking Tom may have drugged you after all, but you remembered you hadn’t eaten or drunk anything before you went to sleep. You also didn’t find any obvious injection sites when you searched your body in the bathroom, using both mirrors to your advantage. You chalked it up to everything that happened yesterday. It had been taxing on you, mentally and physically. You were just exhausted and needed more sleep. You might even need a nap today, if only you could relax enough to take one. Though you didn’t see that happening anytime soon. You dressed and made your way out to the main room, worried about where Tom was, though you felt a little relief seeing Miles in the room, still breathing. 

You found Tom in the kitchen, making you breakfast, and he gave you a big smile when he saw you. “Morning, Beautiful.” He leaned down and pecked your lips, giving a gentle stroke to your belly with his free hand. “My two beautiful girls.” You forced a smile and hugged him from behind, laying your head against his back, just like you used to do. You hoped that the gesture of affection would keep him just like this, a semblance of the Tom you’d known before Miles ever showed up. It must’ve worked because he squeezed your arms with his free hand and continued cooking.

Thankfully, this time when you sat down at the table, he didn’t tie you to the chair. Instead, he smiled at you as he placed the plate of eggs in front of you and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Eat, sweetheart,” he urged. “And then I want to show you something.”

You nodded, immediately digging in and not wanting to displease him. 

His smile grew as he watched you and he leaned down once more to kiss your temple. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. His hand slipped down to your belly and gave it a rub. “My girls,” he corrected, before walking back into the kitchen. 

Miles, who was still gagged and tied to his chair, glared over at you from the corner of the room. At some point before you came out of the bedroom earlier, Tom had righted his chair so now he could watch every single thing you and Tom did. You weren’t exactly sure what Tom was planning but you didn’t like it. You especially didn’t like that the man who had terrorized you for years was currently staring at you with pure hatred, as if he’d like to kill you, as if all of this was somehow your fault. In a way, you supposed it was because had you not let Tom into your life in the first place, this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, had Miles left you alone and not coming looking for you, Tom wouldn’t have snapped. At least, you don’t think he would have. And Cindy would still be alive.

“Fucking crazy bitch.” Your eyes snapped to Miles who was still scowling at you. Whatever he said was usually muffled by his gag but you could hear it clear as day. You frowned and went back to your food. 

Tom reappeared just then and placed a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

He gave you a nod, seeming pleased, until he noticed Miles glaring over at you. You watched the change happen within his expression and suddenly you knew you needed to intervene and quickly. Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed his hand, prompting him to look down at you. 

“I need to get exercise. For the baby. Will you take me for a walk after I’m done?”

His eyes briefly softened while the rest of him did not. “Of course.” He dropped your hand and moved around the table, coming to a stop in front of Miles. “You keep looking at her like that and I’ll cut your eyes out and feed them to you,” he threatened with a menacing edge to his tone. “Don’t forget, the only reason you’re even still breathing is because of her.” Tom straightened up, a terrifying smirk on his face, before he punched MIles. You winced, dropping your fork to your plate.

Miles turned back to glare up at Tom, more blood seeping into his gag. “Fuck you, you piece of shit! Fuck you and that fucking crazy whore!” He yelled against the gag. Tom gave him one more punch for good measure, causing Miles to yell out in pain, before he walked away, that smirk still on his face. You watched as Tom sat down across from you and tucked into his own breakfast, seemingly unbothered by what just occurred. You quickly glanced over at Miles, seeing him still glaring but blood coming out of his broken nose.  

“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

You quickly looked back at Tom to find him watching you, not glaring so much but also not seeming pleased.

You gripped your fork tightly but forced yourself to keep a smooth expression. “It’s not sympathy, but pity. Pity that he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” You turned a glare over on your husband who more than gladly returned it.

When you turned back to Tom, he was studying you, smirking. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart, so I can show you my surprise and then we can go for that walk.”

You did as he instructed, digging into the fruit, not wanting to displease him any further. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be mollified, for now.

<-->

You stared around you in horror, your knees feeling weak. You held onto the wall for support.

Tom had taken your hand and led you to a small room in the back of the cabin that you had no idea existed, near the bedroom you had spent the night in. He smiled at you and told you to shut your eyes when you arrived at the closed door. You did as he instructed, not wanting to make him angry. He opened the door, led you into the room with his hands over your eyes, and then asked if you were ready. You nodded and he dropped his hands as you opened your eyes and looked around you, your jaw dropping. 

“Surprise,” he crowed. “What do you think?”

You were thinking you were going to be sick. You were staring at an exact replica of the nursery you and Tom had put together back in your house, right down to the crib sheet, mobile, paint colors, and night light. Everything you had purchased for your nursery, he had obviously gone and bought a double of to place here. You even spotted the same rocking chair in the corner, the same changing table, and the same toys and books you’d decorated the room with. The same stuffed animals sat in the crib. Even a double of the breast pump machine you’d bought was sitting on the changing table. 

“What do you think?” Tom asked happily as he glanced around. “Is it just like the one we put together back at your place?”

You robotically walked to the changing table, opening the cabinets underneath, and you saw the same outfits you’d bought, folded and arranged in the exact same way. You held a hand to your mouth; you felt the urge to scream but you couldn’t let it out. You started to shake. How long had he been planning this? To kidnap you and your baby and bring you both here?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said from behind you, forcing you to tense up and drop your hand, schooling your features before you turned to look up at him. He was watching you worriedly. “I only did this as a back-up. In case we ever had to come out here. If that bastard out there ever tracked you down and we had to leave quickly, I wanted to make sure you and our daughter had everything you needed.”

Our daughter. It felt like you were falling into an endless void and you would never wake up from this nightmare. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to ask.

He framed your face with his hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. And I figured it would be a nice surprise if we ever did have to come here. A little piece of home.” He gave you a soft smile. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, not sure what else to do, not able to say anything right then. He grinned and kissed you, happy that you liked the surprise. You thought you’d been in trouble before when he tied you up and brought you out here where no one could hear you scream. Now, you realized, you were in so much more trouble than you’d even imagined.

<-->

Tom held your hand as you both walked the property. Thoughts were racing through your mind but you did your best to pay attention to every inch of the land that he took you to. 

“You’ve been quiet.” If you closed your eyes, you could swear you could hear the Tom that had become your friend and confidante over the months you’d worked on your house together. 

“Just…overwhelmed. And tired.”

Tom stopped in his tracks and your heart rate picked up, worried you had somehow said something wrong.

He turned to you, staring into your eyes, a layer of concern shadowing his expression. “I know this has been a lot and it’s an adjustment. But I promise you, Y/N, all I want is for our family to be together. Without having to worry about sick fucks like the one in there,” He inclined his head back towards the cabin. “Who want to threaten that, who want to hurt you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “And Cindy?”

His jaw tightened and he looked away. “She wasn’t your friend.”

“She was,” you choked out. “And she was a good one.”

His gaze snapped back to yours and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “No, she wasn’t, sweetheart. How do you think he found you?”

You shook your head, shaking a few tears loose. No, you refused to believe it. He was just trying to trick you into believing it so you would see things his way. “No. She wouldn’t do that. No.” 

Tom wiped your tears away and you could see pity staring back at you. For a cold-blooded killer, it threw you for a loop that he could feel anything like pity or worry for you or concern for the baby or any other emotion besides anger, jealousy, and hatred. “When he showed up in her office, he asked where you were and she told him, point blank. No hesitation, just ‘here’s the address’. He even admitted it.”

“No, he lies. He probably showed up in uniform and that’s why she—”

“She knew better. You told her that was a possibility, you told her his name so she could be on the lookout. And still, she didn’t think twice about it and sent him over to find you.”

“No, she would’ve called me to warn me if that happened, if she had no choice. Maybe that’s why she was there…to warn me.”

He gave you a look. “She wasn’t your friend, Y/N. She gossiped about you behind your back. She came onto me at the Christmas party, though I had gone there with you.”

That revelation surprised you but honestly, you didn’t know what was up or down anymore, never mind the truth.  “We went as friends. We weren’t together then.”

“She knew I liked you, that I wanted to be with you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.

You waited until he straightened back up. “That’s still no reason to kill her,” you gritted out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

He looked at you sadly, wiping the tear away. “I know.”

Your brows drew together in confusion. You hadn’t expected that response. 

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead and tightened his grip on your hand. “It’s pretty cold out. Let’s get you back inside where you can get warm.”

You let him lead you back to the cabin, turning that last part of the conversation over and over in your mind. From the sound of it, he knew his killing of Cindy had been wrong. A spark of hope started up in your chest though you were afraid to trust it. He still had you and Miles captive here, after all.

<-->

That night, as he spooned you from behind in his bed, he was kissing your neck, his hands moving all over your body. You could feel his erection digging into your back. “I love you so much,” he murmured to your skin. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart. You and me. And our little girl.” He placed his hand on your belly, trailing his lips up to your jaw. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, and you tried to imagine the Tom who had first made love to you nearly a month ago, who had sweetly kissed your baby bump every time he left the house and every time he came home. You held onto that Tom in your mind as he undressed you, then himself, probed you to make sure you were ready, and slid into you from behind, sighing happily into your neck as he did. He gently pumped his hips into yours and you could feel his hand making its way down between your legs, touching you in a similar way to how he had touched you last night, with complete tenderness. “We were meant to find each other,” he grunted into your ear as you arched your back and laid your head against his shoulder, reacting to his touch. “Be a family.” You tried to ignore his words and only focus on the pleasure coursing through you. He’d said these things to you before, back when he was your Tom, and you’d believed him. 

You could hear the old bed creaking beneath you and you could feel his rhythm increasing, the moans and sweet whispers in your ear picking up in frequency. You knew he was close and you squeezed your eyes shut harder, trying to imagine you and him back in your bed at your house, as if nothing had changed between you. That image helped bring you closer to the edge and you reached an arm back, gripping his hair, crying out as you got even closer and closer. His pace increased and the headboard was knocking against the wall now, his groans sounding out in rapid succession, almost tangling with your cries in midair, joining together in an almost impassioned chorus. Lost in your fantasy and the sensations you were feeling, you moaned out, “Kiss me.” Tom’s mouth was on yours, his tongue sweeping against your own, and that pushed you over the edge. You stiffened and he swallowed your cries, grunting loudly himself and intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing as he fell over his own edge. You were still shaking a couple of minutes later when he slipped out of you and gently rolled you onto your back as you caught your breath. 

You could see him beaming down at you, still panting himself, his hair messy from your fingers, eyes bright and full of adoration for you. The same way he’d looked the other times you’d had sex in the past. It made your heart soar but also break mid-flight. “I love you.” You saw how much he meant it and your heart completely shattered.

Your eyes filled with tears as you reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I love you, too,” you whispered. And you did, this version of Tom, anyway. His smile grew and he laid his head down on your chest, sighing in contentment as you ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you held him, wondering how the universe could be so cruel as to send someone to you that loved you and your baby so much only to have him turn out to be a cold-blooded killer. 

<-->

You woke up alone again, even groggier than the day before. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Tom was actually drugging you in some way once you fell asleep. You had held him until he fell asleep himself last night but obviously, at some point, he must have woken up after you passed out.

You felt irritable, which was most likely a side effect of the grogginess you felt and possibly whatever Tom was drugging you with, as well as typical pregnancy hormones. It was so bad that you couldn’t even be bothered to drum up a smile for Tom who was looking at you like you were the best thing that existed on the planet. You took the food he gave you and dug in, not even thanking him like you usually made sure to do.

You felt off and when he spoke softly to you, “Eat, sweetheart, and then we’ll go for another walk”, you nearly snapped at him, demanding to know what he’d been drugging you with and why. You’d only just held yourself back, reminding yourself you weren’t supposed to say or do anything that would anger him.

Miles, though, was fair game. 

He had called you names, though muffled by the gag, the minute Tom stepped out of the room. You ignored him as best you could, though it still got under your skin. Who the hell was he to sit there and call you things like “whore” and “slut”? Even if he had heard you and Tom together last night? Was he so stupid that he didn’t realize the predicament he was in, that you all were in? Had Tom’s threats and beatings not made it clear enough? When Tom got up to get you more decaffeinated tea, Miles threw more insults your way and you decided, yes, he really was that stupid. Nothing you hadn’t already known, you supposed.

Tom placed the tea in front of you and you gave him a nod. His brows drew together for a moment before he smoothed them out, taking his seat once more. He glanced between you and Miles. “Everything okay?”

“Terrific,” you snapped. It didn’t hit you until you said it what you had done. You quickly glanced up at Tom who didn’t look displeased at your attitude (thankfully) but was studying you intently. “Sorry,” you offered more gently. “I’m not having a good morning.”

He nodded, his brows still drawn together. “Well, finish up and we’ll get out of here for a while, stretch our legs, and get some fresh air.” He gave you a patient and understanding smile.

You gave him a wan smile in return, realizing how lucky you were that he was being so understanding and hadn’t gotten angry with you. You were picking up the plastic butter knife to spread jam on your toast when Miles said something nasty to you both, once again muffled by his gag. 

At that point, you’d had enough. You dropped the knife and pounded the table with your fist, making the plates shake. “Shut. Up!” You yelled over at him. He scowled at you but did indeed shut up. You realized what you’d done and you worriedly glanced back at Tom. His eyes were flicking back and forth between you and Miles before getting to his feet. Your heart leapt into your throat. Oh no. Now you’d done it.

He made his way over to you, glaring at Miles as he did. When he stopped in front of you, he held out his hand which you warily took. He pulled you to your feet and gripped your chin between his fingers. “I think we should go for that walk now. Okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what was going to happen but you noticed him shooting a terrifying glare in Miles’ direction. You remembered you needed to keep your strength up so you picked up the piece of toast you had been intent on eating and took it with you as he led you to the door. He saw and chuckled, squeezing your hand, as he opened the screen door for you both to walk through.     

<-->

“You feeling a little better?”

You turned to look at him, wondering how to answer that. Yes, you weren’t as edgy, but no, you didn’t exactly feel better. You finally settled on “A little.”

He gave you a hint of a smile and nodded, averting his gaze to the path in front of you. 

After a minute, he spoke. “You know, if he’s becoming a problem, I can take care of it.”

You froze, stopping in your tracks, your eyes wide. This was exactly what you didn’t want.

He noticed you had stopped and glanced back at you over his shoulder with furrowed brows. 

You didn’t want to anger him but maybe you were too tired, too scared, or too irritated — you couldn’t help but finally speak your mind. “I don’t want you to kill him.”

Instead of angry, he appeared confused as he spun around to fully face you. “Why? He’s obviously upsetting you, which isn’t good for the baby or you, he’s stinking up the place, he refuses to eat anything. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve to live after what he’s done to you. No one’s even going to miss the guy. Not to mention, it would keep you and our daughter safe... What’s the point of keeping him around?”

Tears started to blur your vision as you finally admitted the truth. “I can’t… I can’t kill someone, even him.”

Tom stared into your eyes before licking his lips and looking away. “That’s why I’m offering to do it.”

It terrified you to say this next part but you had to say it. “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” His eyes snapped to yours and your heart began to pound harder in fear. “You can’t kill and I can’t order someone’s death. Even his.” Tears made their way down your face and his gaze softened a little, seeing them. 

He reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling you into him, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Okay,” he murmured to you. “Okay. We’ll figure something else out for him.” He embraced you tightly and you closed your eyes, relieved. “And then it’ll just be us, the three of us, our family.”

You nodded against him, though you secretly knew you still had to figure out a way to escape. Perhaps once you were able to figure out what to do with Miles, then that would leave just the two of you. And then either Tom would be forced to take you into town for supplies which gave you more of an opportunity to escape or get help, or he’d be forced to leave you here. Based on the two walks you had so far, you were starting to get to know the property. Even though there was nothing but woods surrounding you, perhaps you could make your way at least to the property line. From there, you could figure out your next move.

He released you, kissed you, and took your hand again to start heading back. 

“And Tom?” 

He glanced over at you. 

You didn’t want to push your luck but since you had already spoken up about Miles and the killing, you were going to speak up about this, too. Especially since your child was at stake. “Whatever you’re drugging me with at night, you have to stop. It could be hurting the baby.”

He furrowed his brows again. “Sweetheart, I’m not drugging you. I told you, I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you. I would never put either of you at risk like that.”

You wanted to believe him but you also knew what you felt. “Then why do I feel so groggy when I wake up in the morning? And it’s gotten worse each time?”

He studied you, looking as if he wanted to say something, when a sudden realization dawned on his face. A smile crept along his face. “You’re probably tired because I’ve been keeping you up at night. You probably just need a good night’s rest, that’s all. I’ll tell you what, tonight you take a nice, hot shower, we’ll go to bed a little earlier, and we’ll just sleep. How does that sound?”

You didn’t want to appear too eager for him not to engage in any sexual activities with you so you just nodded and hugged his arm, whispering, “That sounds good, thank you.”

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him, leading you both back to the cabin. His smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn’t resist you, but don’t worry, I promise to keep my hands to myself. Your rest is more important, especially for her.” He laid a hand over your bump, patting it gently, and you tried not to cringe under his arm.

<-->

Two weeks had passed and truth be told, you were surprised no one had come looking for you yet, considering you, Tom, and Miles were missing, you were pregnant, and Cindy’s dead body had been left in your house. Your due date was little more than a month away, and you were starting to worry you might have to deliver at the cabin if you weren’t found soon. 

Miles was still with you both, alive, as cantankerous as ever. He eventually started to eat the small amounts of food Tom let him have when he realized Tom wasn’t going to kill him and he obviously wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still threw insults at you every chance he got but for the most part, you ignored him to the best of your ability. If Tom overheard, which was rare, he beat the crap out of Miles until either you begged him to stop or Miles lost consciousness. You and Tom were still trying to figure out what to do with him, but short of taking him somewhere deep in the woods and dropping him off there with the hopes that a bear might get him, you didn’t really have any options. And since you asked Tom not to kill him, a hostage Miles remained.

Tom had kept his word and kept his hands to himself at night. He still spooned you, still kissed you and caressed your bump, but he let you sleep. You still woke up groggy sometimes, as if you hadn’t slept a wink, but it had gotten a little better. Tom blamed those mornings on the old mattress. He swore he’d buy a new one the next time he was in town (which thankfully was coming up soon). You had taken to showering before bed every night, hoping the hot water would relax your body enough that you would drift off into a deep, restful sleep. You had actually gotten used to Tom cuddling you and you no longer feared for your child’s life when he touched your belly. He talked to the baby sometimes, something you heard while you were falling asleep, and his tone was so gentle and loving and reverent, that you couldn’t help but think he really meant it when he said he wanted all of you to be a family. He had even taken to kissing the bump again throughout different parts of the day or if he had to go outside to chop wood. He cooked for you every day without complaint, though you’d offered to pitch in to help (hoping he would trust you completely and you could get access to knives and other cooking tools that could be weaponized at some point if needed). He’d given you a knowing smile and thanked you but told you that he was fine with the arrangement, he didn’t mind. You mentally cursed yourself at being so transparent but you were also thankful he hadn’t gotten angry. 

For the most part, though, you’d settled into a sort of routine with Tom every day: breakfast, walk, you were free to move around the cabin as he chopped wood for an hour, he’d take you into the nursery to sit in the rocking chair for a bit to either go over possible baby names or to sit and read to the baby or to play music (he had gotten the same pair of fetal headphones you did), lunch, a nap he insisted you take each day to help you rest better while he fixed things up around the cabin, a free couple of hours to do whatever you wanted, dinner, another walk, shower, and then bed. 

You were following this routine one such day when Miles appeared to have finally lost his mind altogether. 

It was dinnertime and you had come into the main room with a book in your hand. When setting up the nursery here, Tom had bought the same books you had to prepare for the pregnancy. You were able to pick up where you left off in What To Expect When You’re Expecting. You sat down as Tom came in with a plate of carrots for you to snack on. He smiled when he saw your nose in the book, mindlessly reaching out for a carrot, and dropped a kiss on your head. “What chapter are you on?”

“Still on the eighth month,” you answered without looking at him, taking a bite out of the carrot. 

“Mmm,” he hummed against your hair. “Maybe you’ll finish it by the time we eat. I’ve got about ten more minutes left and then we’re good to go.” 

“That’s fine. I’ve got carrots to munch on and plenty to read in the meantime.” You held the book up in gesture. 

He chuckled and dropped another kiss to your head before walking away. You immediately got back to reading. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tom loosen Miles’ gag and then shove two pieces of white bread in his mouth. “Here, dipshit.” He slammed a small plastic cup of water on the arm of his chair, spilling most of it and not really caring. “Enjoy.”

Tom left the room with a glare over his shoulder in Miles’ direction. 

Miles spit out the bread and turned furious eyes on you. You ignored him, choosing to go back to your chapter. 

“You stupid, crazy fucking whore.”

Your jaw tightened but you remained silent, picking up another carrot to snack on.

“You hear me? You’re so desperate for dick you’re playing house with that crazy fucker.”

You could feel yourself tense up but you simply turned the page. 

“You’re a stupid fucking crazy whore and I always knew you were.”

You rolled your eyes. “Careful, Miles, you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

That had been a mistake to say. A shark-like grin appeared on Miles’ face — well, as much as it could with his face beat to hell. “You want to hear something different? Alright, how about this? When I get outta here and I will get outta here, I’m going to kill that motherfucker right in front of you. I’m going to bash his skull in while you watch. Then when I’m done with him, I’m going to come for you.” You tried not to show it but you could feel an age-old fear creeping up on you. “Since you’re such a whore, I’m gonna use you like the whore you are, over and over again, until you’re crying and begging me to stop. And just like old times, I won’t.” You could feel the tremors starting up. “I’ll even fuck you right next to his corpse so you can cry all over his brains on the ground. And then when I’m finished with you, good and finished, I’m going to beat the hell out of you but not before I cut that baby out of you and strangle it with its own cord right in front of you. Then if you’re somehow still alive after all that, I’m gonna kill you. And I’m gonna get a medal for it. ‘Hero cop stops modern-day Bonnie and Clyde from continuing their killing spree.’ You just wait. The governor will be shaking my hand and I may even get a call from the goddamn President, thanking me for my service. I put down three rabid dogs, all for the price of one, the one I was tracking down in the first place. I’m gonna be a goddamn hero for this, for ripping you and your evil spawn from this world. How’s that for a new record, you crazy whore?”

A tear slipped down your cheek and he laughed. 

“I should’ve fucking gotten rid of you when I had the chance. Now, I’ll have that chance and I’m going to enjoy it.” He laughed again.

You wiped your cheek just in time for Tom to walk in with a bow of mashed potatoes. You noticed that for all of Miles’ bravado a moment earlier, he sure got quiet when Tom walked into the room. 

Tom placed the bowl down on the table. “Just give me five more minutes.” He glanced up and immediately knew something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You gave him a thin smile. “Nothing,” you assured him. “Looks like I’m not going to make it to the ninth month chapter after all.” You placed the book down; you had lost your appetite for both knowledge and for food. “I’m actually not feeling well so I think I’m going to go to bed early.”

He tilted his head, confused. “But you were feeling fine a few minutes ago. Was it the carrots? Or something else…?”

You shook your head, ignoring Miles’ chuckling under his breath. “I just need to lay down. I’m sorry, I know you worked hard on dinner. Can you save me some for tomorrow?”

Tom’s eyes darted to Miles, his jaw tightening. “Of course. Get some rest and feel better, sweetheart. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” You turned and left the room, wincing when you heard Miles yelling out in pain presumably from Tom hitting him but you refused to turn back and look.

<-->

When you got out of the shower and dressed in the sleeveless maternity nightgown Tom had thought to buy for you, you wiped the condensation off the mirror with a hand and stared into it. You couldn’t believe the things Miles had said to you but then again it was Miles, so you could. A part of you wondered if Tom was right; would it be safer for you and your baby if Miles was gone for good? You shook the thought from your head, not even wanting to entertain it. No matter how horrific Miles was, no matter how dangerous, you weren’t a killer. Even if he was killed by some other means, you didn’t want to be the one responsible. You were better than that, a better person. You wouldn’t become like Miles and let him win.  

You heard a soft knock on the door. “Y/N?”

You nervously licked your lips and went to open the door. You hoped Tom wasn’t upset with you for missing dinner. But when you opened it, all you saw was concern and worry staring back at you.

He ducked his head, meeting your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

You tried to smile but it probably came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”

Tom studied you for a moment and then held out his hand which looked remarkably clean considering what he had done to Miles recently. “I want to show you something.”

Thinking it might have to do with Miles, you started to shake your head. “No, I don’t—”

“It’s for the baby,” he soothed. “I have it right here on the bed.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief and took his hand. He kissed your forehead and led you over to the bed where a box sat on top. He urged you to get closer and take a look at it, releasing you. 

You gazed down at the box, picking it up and looking it over. “A home fetal heart monitor?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the bed, taking the box from you and opening it. “I know you haven’t been able to go for your usual checkup due to our…situation at the moment.” He pulled everything out and laid it on the bed. “I bought this long before we came here, in case we needed it. You said the baby is pretty active every day so I didn’t think it was needed. But, you know what, maybe it’s not a bad idea to check in on her. What do you say?”

You were honestly floored at the gesture and you wondered if he had gotten Miles to confess what he’d said or if he overheard again. Either way, you were touched. “Um…” You bit your lip, trying to keep from crying. Damn these pregnancy hormones sometimes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed, a tear slipping out as you reached for the wand. 

He read the instructions and you both figured out how to use it. He urged you to sit back against him as he lifted the hem of your nightgown over your belly. He applied the gel and you used the wand, moving it around until your baby’s heartbeat started to sound from the speaker. You couldn’t help but smile.

“There she is,” Tom whispered into your ear in awe. “There’s our little girl.”

You felt your eyes welling up again, joy and relief flooding through you as you listened to your baby’s steady heartbeat. You turned your head to look at Tom, seeing the same emotions reflecting back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Somehow he knew just what you needed. The louder and steadier your baby’s heartbeat was, the more it drowned out Miles’ words. 

You felt completely at peace and able to drift off to sleep soon after, with Tom wrapped around you. Your baby was okay and she was going to be safe.

Perhaps Miles was right. Maybe you were kind of playing house with a “crazy fucker” as he claimed. But you’d take that crazy fucker over Miles anyday. That crazy fucker cared more about your child than he, the biological father, did. Tom cared about her, wanted her, and would do whatever it took to keep you both safe while Miles had threatened to hurt her, hurt you both. So yeah, you’d take the “crazy fucker” any day of the week.

<-->

A scream startled you awake. You sat up as best as you could, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. You could see the first shafts of morning light peeking through the windows. You were alone in the bed. “Tom?” You called, scared when you didn’t see him. You didn’t know what you’d heard but you were frozen in terror.

Another pained scream erupted out of nowhere and it sounded like it was coming from outside. Miles’ words came back to you and you hurriedly got to your feet, realized you were nude (Tom must have taken your nightgown off to be skin on skin again; he liked that), and dressed. Your hair was still damp from your shower last night but you had no time to throw it up in a bun or ponytail. You felt sore and you noticed a few cuts on your fingers. The sight terrified you especially given how sore your body was and how you had woken up nude but Tom was nowhere to be found. Especially when you remembered Miles’ threats. “Tom?” You cried but you still got no answer. 

You made your way to the main room and gasped when you saw blood in the corner where Miles had been, partially covered by a sheet. You noticed there was blood spatter all over the walls, in almost every nook and cranny. Some of it had even landed on the table, the opposing wall, and the area of floor you were about to step on. “No. No!” You weren’t sure if you were more scared of Tom at this moment, or for him. You belatedly realized he must have overheard Miles threatening you and the baby last night and that was definitely why he brought out the fetal monitor to assure you. You’d had such a sweet moment with it; how did you go from that to this within a matter of hours?

You ran out the door, the screen door slamming back against the house. You didn’t see anything or anyone in the distance. You heard the screaming again and it seemed like it was coming from the surrounding woods to your right. 

“Tom!” You screamed. 

You ran back inside, looking for anything you could use as a weapon, maneuvering as best you could with your stomach but not finding anything, and hurried back out to the porch. You had to stop Tom. Miles had been horrific to you and didn’t deserve your intervention but you couldn’t let this happen to him. He was a human being, a horrible disgusting human being, but a human being nonetheless. You were about to hurry down the stairs when a bloody Tom appeared in front of you, a pickaxe in his hand. 

You froze, unsure if you should run back inside or if that would even make a difference. You held a hand over your mouth and your eyes filled with tears when you noticed something hanging from one side of the pickaxe’s blade that looked suspiciously organ-like.

He came to a stop in front of you, near the bottom of the stairs, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Is it the baby?” He asked worriedly, panting. 

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from yelling in terror. You couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down your face, though. 

He saw and his brows drew together until realization dawned upon his face. He dropped the pickaxe to the ground and spoke gently. “I’m okay, sweetheart. This isn’t my blood.”

Tom actually thought you were worried about him, that somehow Miles had gotten a hold of him like he’d threatened and was doing horrific, unspeakable things to him. A voice deep down told you to play along. “Will you please come inside then and let me clean you up?” You fought hard to keep the wobble out of your voice.

His eyes softened and he climbed the stairs to stand before you. The sight of so much blood made you want to vomit. You weren’t squeamish by any means but the amount of blood covering Tom from head to toe… If Miles wasn’t dead already, he soon would be. 

Tom went to reach out a hand to your cheek but then saw the blood and thought better of it, dropping it to his side. 

“Y-You promised,” you forced out.

“I did.”

“Why then? W-Why did you break it? We were…we were doing so well,” you sobbed out.

His jaw tightened but his eyes saddened. “We still are. Let me go finish…that. I’ll come back, clean up, and then we’ll talk.” He said it as if he was simply going to finish chopping firewood and then come back for lunch. 

“Tom,” you gasped, trying to breathe through the sobs tearing out of you. “If you continue ro torture him, I can’t be with you.”

His brows furrowed again and you waited for the terrifying expression you’d seen all too often to make a reappearance. Instead, he looked more confused than ever. “I’m not torturing him, Y/N.”

“Yes, you are. I heard him screaming.”

His lips parted in shock and he went to reach out for you again. This time, you flinched and moved backwards on reflex. He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist. You were scared that you angered him but God, how could you live with yourself if you let him go continue killing Miles slowly and brutally? 

“Sweetheart,” he spoke gently. “No one was screaming. Except you.”

“I know what I heard, Tom!” Was he seriously trying to gaslight you right now into believing you had been hearing things? The bloody pickaxe was still on the ground, with whatever attached it, for crying out loud. “It woke me up!”

His eyes softened then. “Miles was dead before I dragged him out here. You saw…inside…no one could have survived that.”

You felt like your heart stopped. The way he talked about murdering another human being so casually made your blood run cold. 

He took another step closer and you took another step backwards. He held out a placating hand but all you could see was the blood caked on his skin. “Y/N, look at me.” You lifted your gaze to his and only then did you notice how badly you were shaking. “I need you to take some deep breaths and relax.”

“Relax?” You laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“You need to stay calm for the baby.”

You huffed out a snort in disbelief but after a moment, you realized he was right. The last thing you needed right now was for labor to start early or for there to be any complications when you were this remote. You forced yourself to take deep breaths. 

“Good.” He gave you a tiny smile. “Now, I need you to listen to me.”

You focused on your breathing, not wanting to listen to him but you had no choice.

“I need you to go inside and pack your things. There’s a bag under the bed you can put your clothes and the baby’s clothes in. When I’m done, I’ll come in, clean myself up, and get the rest of what we’ll need.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re taking me somewhere else? Are you serious?” You felt like your mind was unraveling. “What about— What about the nursery?” You could care less about the nursery right now but it was what your mind grasped onto, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. 

“We’ll take most of it with us. Don’t worry. I can recreate it in the new place. Quickly, too, before she comes.”

“Another remote cabin?” You snapped.

He shook his head. “A home. For us, for our family. There’s a swingset in the backyard and everything.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just how long have you been planning this? First this cabin? Now a house? How long, Tom?” You demanded.

He seemed unsure how to answer but he said, “As long as I’ve had to. Now, please, go inside and pack. If you hear anything, just know I’m okay and he’s already dead. Alright?”

You kept focusing on your breathing, not answering him.

“I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re on the road.”

The road? Depending on which road he planned to take, there may be other cars on that road, places he needed to pull over for gas — people. You could possibly flag someone down for help or even make an escape attempt that might be successful. The road was good. It meant opportunity. 

You took another deep breath and nodded, opening the screen door and walking inside, refusing to look back at Tom or the massacre-decorated corner of the main room. 

<-->

You had packed everything Tom had told you to: your clothes, the baby clothes, your book, any necessities. After a while, Tom had come back, spent a few hours attempting to clean the blood from the main room which he urged you to keep the bedroom door shut for with the bedroom window open in case, jumped in the shower, and then urged you out the door. He packed everything else up into his truck. He’d even disassembled the crib and tied the rocking chair down securely in the truck bed. The changing table was being left behind as well as the cubbies he’d stored the books and toys in but everything else came with. He also managed to quickly pack a cooler of food and drinks, and took whatever he could from the cupboards. It was an odd sensation, standing by the truck as he did all of this, not offering to help. A part of you wanted to but the other part was still angry with him for killing Miles and breaking his promise to you. Another third smaller part was scared to death that you were about to share the same fate, or at least you would once the baby was born. Tom wanted your baby; that was crystal clear to you now as you noticed the larger percentage of what was packed had more to do with the baby than anything else. While he had told you he wanted you all to be a family, perhaps he was just waiting for you to give birth and then that would be it. For you.

You focused on maintaining your breathing and told yourself you would get away long before that could happen. 

Once everything was packed up and the cabin was closed up, Tom opened the passenger door for you and helped you up into the seat. You wouldn’t have accepted his help if you thought you could get up there yourself but a very big belly tended to offset everything. He got into the driver seat, slipped a baseball cap on, and pulled away from what had been your temporary home for a few weeks. 

It was about fifteen miles on the highway or so, with nary a car in sight, that you finally turned to Tom (who you had been ignoring this entire ride so far) and asked the question that had been sitting in the back of your brain. “You heard him last night, didn’t you?”

Tom turned a confused expression onto you. 

“When he threatened me.”

His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, turning back to the road ahead. “No. I didn’t. I knew he had probably said something to upset you but I didn’t know he did that. Had I, I would’ve…” He shook his head, angry, clenching a fist. “Makes sense, though.”

“What makes sense?”

He nervously licked his lips and reached over to pick up your hand. You went to yank it back but he tightened his grip and placed a kiss to your skin. “I promised I would tell you everything and I will.”

“Now seems like a good a time as any,” you seethed, still trying to pull your hand back but he wouldn’t let you.

“Let’s get some driving out of the way first. We’ve got a ways to go and I’d rather we put as much distance as we can between us and that cabin.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered. 

He seemed displeased with your reaction but he let your hand go and continued focusing on the road. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. That worried you a bit because you should be trying to keep him happy, calm, trusting, and instead you were doing the exact opposite. But the anger and betrayal you felt seemed to be overriding everything at the moment.

<-->

“Hey. Y/N.”

You were being gently shaken awake and you opened your eyes, glancing all around you. You were still in the front seat of the truck and the sun was starting to go down. You turned to see Tom rubbing your shoulder. 

“You need to use the bathroom, sweetheart?” He murmured. 

Almost as if on cue, your bladder started to hurt. You nodded, rubbing your eyes. 

“Okay.” 

He jumped out of the truck and made his way over to your side. He opened your door and lifted you to the ground, grunting in the effort. Had he been someone else, you would’ve felt bad for the strain he was putting on his body in doing so. 

You were at a rest stop where other cars surrounded you. You saw families milling about, couples, friends traveling together — people.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly. “Stay close to me.” Of course he wanted you to stay close to him. He didn’t want you running off for help after all.

You let him lead you into the building as you tried to formulate a plan to escape him. He held you closer as he pushed his way through people waiting in line for the various food vendors available and brought you to the women’s bathroom. Thankfully, there was no line. You were just waiting to get in there and lock the door behind you. But as luck would have it, he opened the door himself and ducked his head in. When he determined it was clear, he urged you in ahead of him and locked you both inside.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You glared at him and went to find a stall, realizing he’d already anticipated your plan. When you found one, you relieved the pangs of your bladder and tried to think of a new plan. You heard him checking the other stalls around you as a precaution. 

Technically, there were a lot of people around. If you screamed in the middle of the crowd, he couldn’t do anything about it. You smiled to yourself. Yeah, you liked that plan.

You finished doing what you needed to do and exited the stall to wash your hands. While you were drying them, arms came around you, a hand tenderly placed against your belly, and you heard Tom whisper in your ear, “I love you. I love both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what he said. If I had, maybe I could’ve done something to keep this morning from happening.”

You refused to look at him, in the mirror or next to you. Too little, too late. “You broke your promise to me, Tom.”

“I didn’t break my promise to you, sweetheart.”

“Really?” You spun around, glaring up at him. “And what do you call this morning? Look, Miles was a despicable human being who did the most horrific things to me a long time ago and threatened to do even more horrific things if he got loose, but he was still a human being. You know what? It’s not even about him. I didn’t even ask you not to kill him for him, I asked you not to kill him for me. Not because I cared in the slightest what happened to him, but because I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can! I have a baby to think about, Tom! What if she cries too loudly or she doesn’t put her toys away when we tell her to? What then?”

With each word you said, he looked more and more pained. “I’m going to be a good father to her, Y/N. I’m really doing the best I can to keep…certain impulses in control. It’s not easy. Even when there are certain risky things going on that are tempting those impulses.”

“What?” What was he talking about?

“I didn’t want to have this conversation until we got to the house but if you need to hear it now so you know how much I love you and the baby, then so be it. Y/N, I—”

A loud pounding sounded on the door. “The door’s locked!” Some woman yelled. 

“Shit,” he muttered before turning to look down at you pleadingly. “Look, I get that you can walk out that door, scream for help, I would have to run, and then you’d never see me again. But Christ, Y/N, I’m asking you to please give me a chance to explain. Just one. If you don’t want to be with me after that or allow me to be her dad,” He swallowed compulsively at that part. “Then you two can stay in the new house and I’ll move on. I promise.”

“Hey, some of us have to go to the bathroom, too! Open up!”

You gritted your teeth and glanced up at him skeptically. “Another promise?”

 “I haven’t broken the last one I made to you yet.”

You shot him a look. 

“Open up or we’re going to report you!”

“Report me to who?” You snapped at the door. “The bathroom police? Please.” You turned back to Tom who was smirking down at you. “What?”

He only smirked wider and offered you his hand. You realized you must definitely be nuts because after a moment, you took it. He leaned down to kiss your nose, whispering, “Thank you.”

A second later, he gripped your hand tightly. “No matter what, we keep our heads down and just get back to the truck. Deal?”    

You gave him a hesitant nod and moved closer to his back, so he could break through the crowds for you both.  

He unlocked the door and opened it, rushing past a couple of women standing sentry at the door. The loud one yelled at you as you passed, “Really? That’s what we were waiting on? Disgusting! I should report you both!”

You had the strongest urge to yell something back but Tom squeezed your hand and hurried out of there, ignoring any onlookers. 

You were just about to step into the parking lot when you heard a feminine giggle to your right. You glanced over and saw a young woman flirting with a young guy. She was touching his jaw with the tip of her finger, and he was smirking down at her.  

She giggled again and the images in front of you began to swim. Suddenly, another image overtook it. 

You were back in your house, at the top of the stairs, watching as your friend Cindy was all smiles at Tom. He was coming down off of the ladder from installing the light at the top of the foyer. He gave her a polite smile and when she asked where you were, he said you were upstairs resting, the baby had been really active that morning.

Cindy watched as he wiped his hands on a rag and she sidled up to him. “Tom, what are you doing? Playing house with the new weird pregnant girl who won’t tell anyone where she’s from, and stepping in as Daddy? It doesn’t suit you. You’re young and strong and full of life. Don’t let her suck it out of you.” Your grip on the railing tightened.

Tom had politely pushed her away. “I love her, Cindy. I love them both. They’re my life. Now, if you can’t accept that or even speak nicely about her in her own home, then I think it’s time for you to leave.” He gestured towards the door.

Cindy tried once more. “But, Tom, we had some fun times together, didn’t we? Wouldn’t you prefer that to whatever this is?” She gestured around the foyer in disgust.

“Yes, we did. And no, I don’t. Like I told you at the Christmas party, I’m not interested. So, please leave.”

“Ugh, fine. Call me when you get bored of the fake family routine.” She was walking towards the door finally. You could see Tom’s jaw tighten as he watched her go, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

You quietly hurried down to the last few steps, plastering a big smile on your face. “Cindy, is that you?”

Tom’s gaze snapped over to you and Cindy spun on her heel with the biggest fake smile. “Y/N! I was just asking after you. Tom told me you were getting some rest so I figured I’d drop by later to see how you were doing.”

You made your way down the stairs, Tom holding out a hand to help you. You gave him a smile of thanks and laid a hand on your belly, rubbing. “Yeah, she was being a little overactive this morning and tired Mommy out.” You then placed your hands on your belly as if you were blocking the baby’s ears. “Usually happens after a great night of sex,” you said in a more conspiratorial tone.

Tom grinned down at you. “Damn right it does.” He pulled you to him, kissing you.

You chuckled against his lips, playfully pushing away from him, your cheeks warm. “Tom, we have company.” You inclined your head in Cindy’s direction who still had the fake smile going. 

Tom shrugged. “She was just leaving.” He leaned in to kiss you again when you laughed and turned to let him kiss your cheek instead. 

“Oh my word, you two are just too cute together. Like a Christmas card without all of the…Christmas,” Cindy let out in a laugh.

Tom moved and slipped his arms around you from behind, pressing kisses to your cheek as he rubbed at your belly. 

“So, Cindy, what did you drop by for?” You asked, playfully slapping at Tom’s hand that was subtly moving above your belly. He snickered into your ear before nibbling on it.

“You know what, you seem a little busy right now, hun. I’ll drop by later so we can talk.”

You gave her a bright smile. “That’d be great. I’ll put coffee on for you and tea for me, and we’ll chat then.”

“Absolutely! See you then!” She wiggled her fingers in a goodbye and then was out the door.

Your smile dropped as soon as the door closed. Tom saw and placed his lips at your ear. “I take it you heard all of that before you came down?”

You turned a stone cold expression on him. 

He sighed and laid his forehead against yours. “I love you and want to be with you. Only you. You know that.”

“But you’ve been with her?”

“It was only a couple of times, purely casual. It was done before you even came to town.”

You gripped his chin tightly. “Are you sure you want to give up fun times together and play Daddy?”

His brows drew together, studying you. “Yes. Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be here.” 

Your expression softened and you released him. “You mean that?” You whispered.

He gave you a soft smile and kissed you. “We could be up in the mountains somewhere, just the three of us, and I’d be happy. So, yes, sweetheart, I mean it. We’re a family and nothing is going to threaten that. I promise.”

You hugged his arms around you and leaned back against him, relaxing and smiling. You really had no idea what you had done to deserve Tom coming into your life when he did. 

Which is why you were so desperate to keep him with you, to keep your family together. When Cindy walked into your kitchen a few hours later, you were determined to lay down the law. To let her know that you overheard her earlier and while you appreciated her helping you find this house (and Tom by extension), she was no longer welcome in it. Instead, though, she ended up dead. She made a comment to you about Tom that was heavy with implication and before you knew it, you attacked her. Multiple stab wounds to the body after a smashed coffee pot over her head that caused third-degree burns. She just wouldn’t stop screaming.

Tom arrived back from a trip to the store and found you in the kitchen, still stabbing her long after she finally stopped screaming, his eyes wide. He wrestled you for the knife and tossed it before gripping your face and staring into your eyes. “Y/N, it’s me! Look at me! Y/N!”

You both heard your backdoor opening, and in walked your estranged husband who you had been running from. Miles’ eyes were wide as he took in the bloody scene in front of him and he whistled, chuckling. “Always knew you were a crazy whore.” Tom immediately recognized him from the picture you’d shown him and he let you go, fury filling his expression. 

Tom attacked him and they fought. Miles had somehow managed to best Tom at one point and he was about to go to town on him when you hit him with a frying pan. It gave Tom the opportunity he needed to get out from under him and before Miles could even try to attack you once he recovered, you held a knife to his throat as Tom grabbed another one, that same fury in his eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you told Miles. “One move and you die.”

“You stupid bitch, I’ll fucking kill you,” he spit. You pressed the blade into his neck a little more. 

Tom rushed him, ready to kill him when you held a hand up, stopping him. “No. He lives.” Tom glared up at you, unsure of why you were stopping him. “We take him with us, make him watch and hear everything, and we have some fun.” You gave Tom a wicked smile and he returned it, turning it down onto Miles who was bleeding from where you’d cut him. “Do you know a place?” You asked Tom.

“Yeah.” He glanced once again at Miles, his smile widening. “I know a place.”

You were suddenly at the cabin, waking up in the middle of the night. Not caring if you were dressed or not, you slipped out of Tom’s arms and padded into the main room. You stood there, watching as Miles slept, or if he was awake like he was the night you and Tom had sex, you stood there with a knife, fucking with his head. Would you kill him? Would you not? You made sure to let him know the child you carried was biologically his but he would never see it born. Tom was its father now and he was much more of a man than Miles, as he must have heard earlier. There was even one night where Tom woke up and found you in the kitchen in the dark, holding a knife over your belly, as if you were going to stab yourself. He knocked the knife out of your hand and asked what you were doing. You said it was Miles’ child and you wanted Miles out of you. Tom held your face in his hands and assured you that the child was his and his alone.

“No, it’s not,” you murmured. 

“Yes, it is. Listen to me, that’s my little girl inside of you. She’s both of ours. He has nothing to do with it. Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you love this baby and you love me. You want our family to stay together. You told me that! Please! Don’t let her hurt our baby!”

“It’s our baby?” You asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s ours. Just ours.”

You allowed him to carry you to bed and hold you there, shushing you soothingly and rubbing your belly, using your hands with his.

And then came the night Miles threatened you. This time, you stood over him with the knife.

“You dumb whore, you don’t have it in you to kill me. You won’t even let your crazy boy toy do it.” 

“Yeah, because I want to be the one to do it.” A big smile spread across your face and you slashed at his cheek, making him curse.

“Go ahead then! Even if you kill me, you’ll never be rid of me. I’ll always be a part of you, inside you, in that kid. Know that, you stupid bitch. I should’ve fucking killed you when I had the chance!”

You started slicing and then forcefully stabbing and never really stopped. You took pieces off of him (including what could be construed as what he thought was his manhood) and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Tom woke up when the screaming started but you didn’t stop. He tried to get you to, telling you he would take care of the rest for you, that he didn’t want you to hurt yourself or the baby, but you told him no, you wanted to do this yourself. You’d earned it. Instead, he stood there, waiting, in case you needed him. He nervously watched as you took Miles apart, his eyes repeatedly flickering to your stomach. At one point, though, you could have sworn you noticed a faint smirk on Tom’s face when Miles screamed particularly loudly and his eyes were hard but proud. Only when you were done, though Miles had been dead for a while by this point, did you turn to go back to the room. Tom stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head. “Our baby?” Another shake. He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then get into bed? I’ll clean this up.”

“Thanks, baby,” you’d whispered, gripping his face and lifting up on your toes to kiss him. You left Miles’ blood all over his cheeks but he still looked at you with that same reverence he always had. Once you were out of the shower, he was there to run clean hands over your belly, checking for any injuries but not finding any. You’d smiled and kissed him, not caring about the dried blood on his face when you’d crawled onto his lap and urged him to take off his shirt.

You saw more flashing Images of you in his lap, arching your head up in pleasure, him kissing down the column of your neck, some of the blood from his face transferring onto your skin.   

The screams and moans echoed in your ear as you came back to yourself. You felt as if you were losing your balance and you started to fall until Tom caught you in time.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not looking at him, tears streaming down your face. 

“Hey, she alright, man?”

“You need me to call for an ambulance?”

“No,” Tom assured the onlookers. “Thank you but she’s fine. She has low blood sugar and this happens when she forgets to eat. Let me get her back to the car so I can give her a juice box. Thank you but she’s okay.”

He lifted you in his arms, grunting, and slowly began the trek to the truck. “I thought we had a deal, sweetheart. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not gonna leave you or our little girl behind at a rest stop. Not happening.”

‘Tom, I… I killed them,” you sobbed, staring up at the sky. 

He stopped short for a second but then kept moving. “Shhh. Just hang on, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

“I-I-I killed them.” You started to break apart. “I even threatened my baby.”

Tom picked up speed slightly and did his best to get you both back to the truck. Once there and he had you in the passenger seat, you were already hyperventilating. He gripped your face and forced you to meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, we need to get your breathing under control. Let’s slow it down together, okay?” He took your hand and placed it on his chest and he placed a hand on your chest. “Follow me.”

He eventually got you to calm down a little, taking nice deep and even breaths, but it wasn’t enough to make you forget what you had seen, what you had done. You thought back to what you had said to Tom. “I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can!” “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” You’d blamed him for Cindy’s and Miles’ deaths!

“What do you say we go someplace and have that talk now?”

You nodded, more tears falling down your face at the action. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed you before settling you into your seat. Within two minutes, you were back on the road again, his hand in yours, and you stared blankly out the window. You were a killer and Tom, even your own baby — they weren’t safe. 

<-->

“I’m so sorry, Tom.”

He turned an inquisitive gaze on you. 

“I blamed you when it was me.” You wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry.”

You both were sitting at a picnic table in a nice parking area off the shoulder of the highway that he had managed to find. Thankfully, no one was really around. The stars beginning to come out might have something to do with that. 

He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, kissing your skin. “I knew why you were saying it. You didn’t remember what you’d done. Truthfully, I didn’t want you to remember it.”

“It’s no excuse,” you choked out. “And my baby…” Your eyes welled up again. “Even she’s not safe with me.” 

He cupped your chin with his free hand and turned you to look at him. “Yes, she is. Your ex was the trigger. Now that he’s gone, that lessens the trigger.”

“But what if she looks like him? Or sounds like him? Or what if she does something like Cindy did and says something to trigger me? Or what if like I told you, she cries too loudly or doesn’t put her toys away? She’s not safe.” Your eyes hurt from how much crying you’d been doing, you were surprised there were any tears left, but there were. You cried over Cindy. Sure, you didn’t care for her after overhearing her that day and finding out she’d been with Tom, only teasing you about his supposed crush on you because she never thought he’d give you the time of day and it allowed her to tease and flirt with him as well. But she didn’t deserve to die over it and certainly not like that. You didn’t cry too much over Miles but what you’d done. No human life deserved to be taken the way you had taken his. But you cried the most over what you’d almost done to your baby, what it meant, and how you’d have to let her go once she was born — if she was born. 

“Listen to me, I’m going to keep you both safe, okay? Just like I promised.”

“And you,” you sobbed. “Why would you want to be with a murderer? A cold-blooded killer like me? What if I’d killed you? Or what if I do kill you? Tom, what I’ve done is bad enough but if I did something to you, I don’t think I’d ever come back from that. Or if I did something to my baby.”

He pulled you into his arms and you cried against his shirt. He moved in and gently nuzzled you despite the wetness and sniffling. “Because I know what it’s like.”

“What are you talking about, you know what’s like? Fearing going to sleep that you may not wake up from because your significant other might kill you? I know all too well what that’s like and I don’t want that for you.”

His jaw tightened but he shook his head, bumping his nose gently into yours. “No. I mean, I know what it’s like to have a trigger and not remember what I’ve done half the time, while leaving bodies trailing behind me.”

You hiccuped and pulled back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He placed his forehead against yours. “Remember I never wanted to talk about my past?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you said it was too painful and I didn’t want to push.”

Tom let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. But I’m going to tell you everything, even when you don’t want to hear certain parts. I don’t remember a lot but I’ll tell you what I can. And I’m only going to gloss over my trigger, not go into full detail. I’m sure it would be fine, but I don’t want to even risk it. Okay?” 

You took in a ragged inhale and buried your fingers into his shirt. “Okay.”

He smiled at you reassuringly and tenderly brushed hair out of your face. “Okay.”

<-->

Tom kept an eye on you while you slept, hugging onto his arm. Today was a big day for you in various ways and he wasn’t quite sure if you’d be triggered again.

He’d been completely honest with you, opening up to you about Harry and how trauma led to this other identity he had no control of. Truthfully, he’d been scared to even mention the name, afraid it would draw the other side of him out. During this whole time with you, from him finding you stabbing Cindy to death in your kitchen to now, he’d felt as if Harry was fighting to come to the surface and join in the fray. Of course, that was something the therapists he’d seen had told him wasn’t possible, but even burying Miles’ mutilated corpse and using the pickaxe again felt as if he were approaching a very dangerous line. 

At some point after Harmony, he wasn’t quite sure how long, but he was in control again and Harry was nowhere to be found. He had a healing bullet wound as well as other scrapes on his head and face. He knew he could never go back to Harmony or even be Tom Hanniger again (especially after one internet search on a library computer), so he was forced to become someone else: a different Tom. He probably should have changed his first name, too, but he already had another identity waiting in the wings to take over again, he didn’t want another one he needed to worry about becoming, too. Even if it was only for paperwork reasons.

He moved to a new small town, far away from his old life, and began again. He stayed mostly to himself, kept under the radar as much as he could. He was able to find work, doing small odd jobs at first, and then finding work in basically being a handyman of sorts. He had gotten to know the townspeople that way as well as the town itself. He’d even sought help from a local therapist in the next town over whose resume boasted they specialized in DID. There, the therapist was able to help him understand the disorder better than any doctors in the institution had. He learned about triggers, working to reduce switches (as they called it), and how to overall take control of his life in more ways than one. He had been doing much better and there were no instances where he felt like he was missing time or there was something on the edge of his memories that he couldn’t quite remember. 

And then he’d met you, completely by accident. He’d bumped into you in the hardware store, literally. You’d dropped what had been in your hands and seeing the slim curve of your stomach, he’d immediately crouched down to pick them up for you. He locked eyes with you and he could swear you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat when he realized he’d been staring at you a little too long. He immediately apologized for bumping into you and you apologized, too. He noted what you had in your hand: spackle.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you’re not planning on doing any painting, are you?” 

You glanced at the container in your hands. “Oh, this? Oh no. I can’t.” You gestured to your stomach. “But I read on a forum online that spackling is okay.”

He arched a brow at you. “Forum online?”

Your cheeks turned adorably pink. “Yeah,” you defended. “As long as it doesn’t have high VOC’s I think it said, I should be fine. Plus, I plan to wear a mask and open all the windows, air it out properly.” 

“Uh huh,” he chuckled. At your frown, he held up a placating hand. “Sorry, I just…can’t your husband or boyfriend do that for you? So you don’t have to?”

Your cheeks turned red now. “Are you saying that I can’t do what they can?” You challenged.

“Nope. I’m implying that there are certain things you shouldn’t be doing while pregnant. That’s all.” You went to say something else but he cut you off. “I’m the local handyman, a fixer upper basically. If your other half is too busy, I can swing by and help you out.” 

“Oh.”

He handed you his card, noting no ring sitting on your finger. That answered that particular question. “My cell phone number’s on there so call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll come by. Are you new in town?”

You studied his card. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckled and held out a hand. “I’m Tom.”

You took it, smiling, and shook it. “Y/N.” Not only did he suddenly love that name but he loved the feel of your soft skin against his. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You ended up calling him two days later to ask him about the spackling and his rates. Ever since your conversation with him in the store, you couldn’t get what he said out of your head and now you were worried the online forum was wrong. What he didn’t tell you is that he couldn’t get your conversation with him out of his head, but for a whole other reason.

After an agreed rate over the phone (he’d given you a break, calling it the newcomer discount so you wouldn’t question it or feel badly), he stopped by your house and you showed him where you needed the spackling done. There was a large crack in one of the walls of the living room high up. He couldn’t imagine you on a ladder with a mask trying to get this crack spackled — more like he didn’t want to imagine it. Cindy had been there, shooting him flirtatious smiles every time you turned your back, which he ignored. Cindy had been fun a time or two but he wasn’t interested in anything more than that, something he’d already told her long before he met you. Besides, he’d trade twenty of those flirtatious smiles for one of your warm genuine ones anyday. He’d thought you very pretty in the store but now he knew he’d been wrong; you were beautiful. And living all alone in this big, old house. It seemed like a crime to him though he was a little happy that you were single. 

He got vibes early on that there was something in your past that you were running from. You were jumpy, slow to trust, and he could tell it took a little bit for you to feel comfortable with him alone in the house. He didn’t push and he appreciated your not pushing either when it came to his own past. But he liked being around you and he definitely liked you. It took some time but you eventually got to know one another and he was helping you slowly restore your home (mostly for free at this point, what he referred to as the friend rate which made you smile and shake your head, still insisting on paying him which he would refuse). You never talked about who the father of your baby was or where he might be, but it was obvious you were going about things on your own. He admired you for that and he loved watching you walk around, lovingly rubbing your bump that was getting bigger each week.

And then, on New Year’s Eve, after circling each other for months, you kissed him. From then on, he was yours. Even when you opened up to him about your past, all he wanted to do was protect you and the baby, be good to you, and be there for you both. He loved you well before he said it, which was after you had said it first because he hadn’t wanted you to feel any pressure whatsoever. Soon enough, you both had started talking about the future — particularly, the very near future. Tom wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a parent or if he’d even be a good one but he knew one thing: he loved you and your little girl very much. He’d do anything for you two and that was good enough for him.

Then came the day Cindy made the fatal mistake of setting you off. He still wasn’t sure if it was what Cindy said in the foyer or if she said something else to you when she came by later, but something caused you to snap. Tom had returned from the hardware store and had been shocked to find you covered in blood, violently stabbing the woman who appeared to already be dead. You weren’t a violent person by nature. You two hardly ever argued and if you did, it was resolved within minutes. He’d never seen you argue with anyone else. Even when you got moody occasionally, sure, he knew to tiptoe around you, but you didn’t even get mean. So he had no idea where the hell this had come from. But before he could get through to you to find out if you and the baby were okay, your piece of shit ex showed up. That had been the first night Tom had felt Harry swimming dangerously close to the surface, waiting to take over. No matter what any therapist said; he knew Harry was there, he could feel him, doing his best to take over though Tom fought it. If Harry took over, he would kill every living being in the room, and that Tom would not allow to happen. Especially not when you and the baby were in the same room.

Tom let you make the call on your ex (even though he didn’t completely understand it) and got you out of there. Later that night, when you passed out, he’d checked you for injuries as well as the baby. He didn’t find any except some shallow cuts to your arms. He gently cleaned them and he was determined to keep a close eye on you. When you finally came to the next day, he’d had no choice but to tie you up much like your ex to wait and see what you would do. He noticed you were you again though you were looking fearfully at him. He hated to see it but he also knew it could only mean one thing: you hadn’t remembered what you did. He didn’t need to be a therapist to realize that you might possibly have the same situation going on that he did. When you accused him of killing Cindy, it confirmed it, though he wondered how you knew she was dead. He chalked it up to you starting to switch back and seeing the carnage before he’d been able to get you out of that house.  

So while Tom wasn’t a fan of it, he dangerously walked the line between himself and who he knew Harry to be. Your ex got the worst of Harry’s qualities: the violence, the ruthlessness, and the fury. You got the lower end of a few displeased glares and the raised volume of his voice once or twice. He didn’t know what he was dealing with just yet, though he suspected, and he hoped if he kept you you, even if you were fearful of him, he’d be able to figure out how to help you.

He didn’t agree with keeping Miles alive, especially since Miles was a threat to you and your baby and he had also seen what you’d done to Cindy. It was better to take care of him before he became an even bigger problem. While Tom didn’t relish taking a life, and he didn’t want to wake up Harry, it was clear that Miles needed to go. It was obvious that he was a trigger for you.

While he had been confused at your claims of grogginess, it soon became clear why you were really tired. You’d worried Tom the nights he’d woken up in bed, alone, and found you either hovering over Miles, taunting him, or watching him sleep. You’d even insisted he sit Miles up from where he’d left him in the corner the first night so the asshole could watch and listen. Watch and listen to what Tom hadn’t been sure of but when you told him to make love to you the next night, to be loud while loving you, he got a pretty good idea on what the listen part was. The following morning, he realized you wanted Miles to watch what was happening before his very eyes: you were being well taken care of, you were creating a family, and you were loved. EVen though you didn’t remember it most days, he tried to do right by you — both of you. The other side of you hadn’t told him her name yet, but he was waiting for it. The switches were only too obvious now. 

You’d scared the hell out of him, though, the night he found you holding a knife over your stomach. He had already been assuring you that he loved your baby and you, that you would be a family, that your little girl was his. After that, he stepped it up while also hiding all of the sharp objects and anything that could be used as a weapon against yourself (or him) all over the cabin. Each morning, you’d never remember these incidents, though you’d held clear conversations with him and sometimes your ex.

Then you’d brutally killed Miles that night, another night Harry had been simmering on the edge. As he watched you take your revenge, when you kissed him, covering him in blood, then making love to him — that had been the closest Harry had come to breaching the surface since the night Miles showed up in your kitchen. The only thing that kept Harry back, Tom believed, was the recurring thought of you and the baby. 

Miles being dead forced him to move up his timeline. He had this cabin for a while, only bringing you once to show you around, in case he had to ever grab you and run if your ex showed up (though he didn’t tell you that because he didn’t want to worry you). That was why he had replicated the nursery down to every single detail. You had worked so hard on that nursery, you were so excited when it was finished, that he hated for you to lose it should you have to run. So he slipped up to the cabin a couple of days a week when you weren’t with him, and worked on getting it set up. He had even stocked the kitchen in case (only buying perishables on your second trip up there when you were truly on the run). He’d also made sure to put a down payment on a small house some ways away in case you both needed a fresh start elsewhere. And that was where he was driving you now.

He’d meant what he said, if you wanted him gone, he would be, but he hoped you’d keep him with you. He was already worried about your breakdown from earlier today and your constant worry for your baby’s safety. Not to mention, your ex had been a cop. While they would most likely never find his body, they would associate his disappearance with you and you would always be sought after. And since Tom had disappeared with you, they’d either think you killed him as well or that he’d helped. So he’d alway be sought after as well. That had been one of the reasons he wanted to get out of Dodge as soon as possible but also, he wanted you as far from your main trigger as possible. And he also wanted to get you help, the same help he’d gotten (though he’d have to find another therapist now). Though he was pretty sure the baby was safe, like he kept assuring you, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, an official one. 

He glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he took you in. He loved you deeply and he wanted to be with you. He loved your baby and he wanted to be there for her, stepping in as her dad if you’d let him like you had both originally planned. You had one more month to go until the baby arrived. He hoped this new house, this new life he was bringing you to made you happy. He was going to set up the nursery again for you and this time you’d have a real living room and dining room. The kitchen wouldn’t be so cramped or outdated and you would have a nice, comfortable mattress to sleep on at night. It may not be what your old house was but he would still make it as nice as possible for you. Once he sorted out your paperwork through an old contact of his, you would have access to doctors, the hospital — whatever you needed. The house had a nice backyard for kids to run and play in and the swingset came with the deal which was nice. Tom had even checked to make sure it was in a good school district and a safe neighborhood.

You moved in your sleep, cuddling his arm more and murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He smiled down at you and leaned over to drop a kiss onto your head before glancing back at the road.  

He was going to take care of you. Both of you. And the baby. He would keep you all safe. Just like he’d promised.

[bluehwale]

okay so idk if you’re taking requests or not, BUT BUT BUT could u please write ateez as chb demigods (kind of like the jongho one), the scream i let out when i read demigod on the post was a bit embarrassing tbh

also hi new follower 👋 gonna go stalk ur masterlist/s don’t mind me :))

the rainbow thief | demigods! poly ateez au

02 / ‘the rainbow thief’ masterpost / prev / next

summary. eight demigods find themselves ecstatic over finally mustering up enough courage to let you know about their unbridled feelings for you, only to find a threat looming upon them; a rainbow thief that's set out to steal you.

or alternatively,

your best friends are oblivious to your reciprocating feelings.

pairing(s). ot8 demigods! ateez x daughter of iris! reader (son of hades! hongjoong, son of athena! hwa, son of apollo! yunho, son of poseidon! yeosang, son of zeus! san, son of aphrodite! mingi, son of dionysus! wooyoung & son of ares! jongho)

word count. 3.1k

genre. pure crack, angst if you squint real hard until ur eyes close, tons of fluff, literally the dumbest thing i've written help, basically idiots2lovers, ateez are chronic simps to the point where it's hard to watch, borderline unhinged behavior, they are also himbos!

warnings. alcohol intake (wooyoung and his wine), cursing, not proofread sorry </3

note. hi! this has been sitting in my drafts for a long while and i'm so sorry it took so long to be posted (almost d worded bc of my assignments) anyways, i kinda added a spin on this req by making it a poly fic, i hope you don't mind! thankyou so so much for being my first ever request<3 hv a great day!! ily ^3^ ++ feedback would be greatly appreciated pls i need to improve my writing

masterlist

San thinks this is definitely a level nine code red.

To give you an understanding of San’s Catastrophe Indicator, here’s some scale to context; a level eight would be Wooyoung somehow finding out his deepest darkest secret— that he still sleeps with his plushies every night; and a level ten would be getting zapped on the ass by his dad’s lightning bolt (and potentially having to stay in the infirmary for a week). So yes, a level nine is alarming, if not, exceptionally lethal.

It’s been exactly 53 minutes and 46 seconds since San has been watching you enthusiastically converse with an unfamiliar boy who’s sitting a little too close to you for his liking. His heart aches at the way you throw your head back as you let out your endearing giggles and how you teasingly shove his arm while the boy looks over to you with a grin, probably proud of a joke he told that made you laugh.

(It has also been 53 minutes and 46 seconds since the pink haired boy remains frozen behind a tree— the perfect hiding spot, he mused— all the while trembling like a leaf as he struggles to resist the temptation of flying in your direction curled up as a ball to hopefully cannonball the boy off the bench beside you.)

San huffs, he won’t let this be! It’s supposed to be the special day where he and the boys finally let you know about their feelings, and he would rather backflip off a cliff than let this undeniably handsome, seemingly perfect, flawlessly flirty guy who looks like he jumped out of a popular romance anime seduce you!

He falters, however, when he sees you stand up and grasp the boy’s hand to rise along with you. 

The poor boy’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he sees you inch closer to the blue haired boy, a pretty smile evident on your face as he then wraps an arm around you, pulling you close while whispering something into your ear that makes you blush. 

This can’t be happening! 

San’s hands turn jittery as he unconsciously moves away from his hiding spot, needing to get closer to you, his best friend that he’s been hopelessly in love with for years, but he can feel his heart finally breaking when you excitedly pull the boy into a warm embrace.

Snap!

Your head looks up to see San pausing his steps after accidentally stepping on a tree branch with eyes as wide as a deer caught in headlights. You innocently wave at him and San prays that the ground would swallow him whole.

He feels his hands grow clammy as he ungracefully dives behind a trash can to (unsuccessfully) hide himself from you and the unfamiliar boy walking together towards his direction. But of course, with the unmistaken pop of his pink hair, it’s hard not to notice him— especially for you.

“San!”

The demigod curses under his breath when he sees you in front of him and sheepishly stands up to meet your amused eyes. The blue-haired boy beside you stifles a laugh with an unconvincing cough and San thinks he hears the male mumble, “Oh, is this one of them—” before you elbow him on the stomach, cutting him off as he groans.

You pay no attention to the boy beside you as he doubles over in pain to clutch his gut, you turn to brightly grin at your best friend instead. “Meet Yeonjun! He just got here yesterday and, oh, he’s an Aphrodite kid! I think you both would get along pretty well.”

San feels his eye twitch. He tunes out your voice that rings throughout the air as you introduce him to your new friend.

A son of Aphrodite. Your new friend.

Aphrodite. The goddess of beauty and love. 

His heart sinks into his stomach.

This might be even worse than a code red level nine.

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“There better be a good reason for San to drag me here in the middle of drafting up my Capture the Flag strategy plans.” Seonghwa, the brain and only hope of the group, crosses his arms and tsks. 

The state of an emergency calls San and Mingi (an Aphrodite kid and the first San ran to for consultation) to round up everyone in the infirmary, an unfitting spot to hold their “emergency meeting” but the two boys couldn’t wait for Yunho’s healer shift to end. Mingi taps his feet anxiously when it looks like San’s unwillingness to speak due to his sullen mood means that he will have to be the one to break the news.

Ever the poster child of rationality, he slowly starts, “We think… _____ might be interested in someone.”

“You mean some people,” Wooyoung cackles, sipping his wine from an ‘I LOVE DIONYSUS’ mug as he gestures to his best friends sitting around in a circle. “There’s nothing to worry about, everyone in camp told me she’s 100% gonna accept our confession. They even think we’re all already dating.” The boy proudly smiles, taking another sip of his wine as his stomach flutters at the thought of you.

“She’s in love with an Aphrodite kid,” San blurts out.

Splatters of red wine burst out of Wooyoung’s mouth when San’s words finally registers in his mind, leaving him to stammer and gape wordlessly as chaos ensues with the rest of the boys.

“What are you talking about?!” gasped Seonghwa, any previous thought of his strategy plans immediately forgotten.

“But— but we were supposed to tell her today!” Yunho, ever in tune with his emotions, wails while his hands slap his face to cover his already leaking eyes. “What are we gonna do with the humongous bouquet I requested the Demeter kids to make last night?!” He reaches out a shaky finger to point at the flower bouquet and an equally large teddy bear taking up a whole corner of the infirmary. 

Amidst the commotion, Mingi locks his arms around Yeosang who seems to have resigned from his body completely and looks like he’d willingly give himself up as lunch for any nearby sea monster. “Guys, calm down, maybe this is all just a misunderstanding—”

“An Aphrodite kid, you say?” interrupted Jongho, already rolling up his sleeves to relieve his bulging biceps from ripping his shirt apart. “What’s this guy’s name and what does he look like?”

“Jongho, you’re not killing anyone—”

“Mingi’s right,” Hongjoong sighs, eerily calm besides the smoke fuming from his nostrils and his eyes that glint devilishly. “Instead of killing him, making him suffer throughout his afterlife sounds much better, I’ll make sure my dad takes note of him.” 

“That’s not what I meant!” interjects Mingi who, still grasping a Yeosang who’s ready to jump up and dash off into the ocean, shoots a desperate look begging for help to the eldest. 

“Maybe he’s trying to seduce her into a pyramid scheme?” Seonghwa supplies weakly, brain racking to find any other reason to support the idea that maybe you’re merely close with this person as friends and not because you’re in love with him.

“And why the fuck would he do that?”

“We demigods aren’t immune to capitalism.”

“It’s hopeless,” counters San, shutting everyone else up. They look over to him with furrowed brows and trembling lips, one that matches his own. “You weren’t there– you didn’t see what I saw. She looked so happy.”

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The eight sulky boys toddle around mopily as they pick apart the romance-themed decorations littered around the hidden area you all claimed as your group’s private hangout place. They can’t help but feel dejected over the fact that you— their best friend who they’ve been in love with for years, like someone else.

“Thought I’d find you guys here.”

Speak of the devil.

Their heads snap to find you walking on the path of rose petals they prepared earlier today, dressed in a baby blue mini dress you reserve only for special occasions instead of your usual get up of the orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans. An easy smile rests on your face as you greet your best friends and they can’t help but feel their hearts grow heavier at the sight (except for Yeosang who is too busy panicking over you possibly noticing the ‘We Love You _____!’ banner that is still on display).

“______, what are you doing here?” The glint in your eyes visibly falters at Seonghwa’s question, your excitement twisting into unbridled nerves that settles uncomfortably in your gut when you notice everyone staring at you as if you shouldn’t be here.

Word spreads crazy fast in camp and it didn’t take long for you to overhear about the surprise the boys had planned for you. Although it unsettles you that the boys might be upset at their spoiled attempt of surprising you, you can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of them liking you back after all these years of you believing that your feelings went unreciprocated. 

So imagine your confusion when none of your best friends showed up to lead you to your surprise and that, after happily skipping all the way here, you find them hostile in your presence.

“Uh,” you trail off, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails as you try to gauge their reactions. “It’s just… I didn’t see any of you today except for San. I missed you guys.”

It seems like that was the wrong thing to say as the boys, to your confusion, suddenly broke in tears.

“You can’t say things like that!” Yeosang hiccups, bringing a hand to his face to wipe the steady stream of tears falling from his eyes and earning broken mutters of agreement from the other boys.

"Wha—What?" you stammer, surprised at their reactions. What’s going on?

“You shouldn’t say things like that when you know we can’t have you.”

“What do you mean? Why can’t you?”

“Because you’re in love with someone else!”

You pause. “Huh?” Any trace of your previous nervousness vanished, instead replaced with rejoicement at the thought of them being jealous over you with someone else. You restrain the urge to giggle.

“It’s okay, ____. We understand,” sniffles Seonghwa, clamping his hand over Wooyoung’s mouth who was clinging onto his arm while yelling: ‘NO, WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND!’ It took awhile for the eldest to eventually tackle the younger to the ground, suppressing him by placing his weight over him while Wooyoung continues to let out muffled yelps as he struggles. Seonghwa turns to you and offers a weak smile, the usual shine in his eyes nowhere to be seen. “We’re happy for you.”

You try to contain your amusement. “You are?”

“We are,” Yunho nods, hastily wiping away his own tears to hold both of your hands in his (you can distinctly hear Wooyoung’s muffled scream of ‘WE’RE NOT!’ in the background). “We’ll always be here for you. We’ll always be your best friends.”

“That’s gonna be a problem, though,” you chide lightly, feeling the smile you’ve been trying to mask creep up to your face. “I want you to be more than just best friends.”

It took a couple seconds for the sulky boys to register what you said and when they did, you’d think they’d won the lottery or something (you’re pretty sure Jongho leaped three feet up in the air). 

“But what about that Aphrodite kid?”

You turn to Hongjoong in confusion. “What Aphrodite kid?”

Everyone turns to accusingly look at a certain pink haired boy. 

San gulps. “Yeonjun,” he mutters. It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement.

“...Yeonjun?” you burst into laughter, uncontrollable giggles escaping you from how ridiculous this is. “We’re just friends and he has a boyfriend. I was even talking about you guys all day to him!”

“Y—you were?” San stutters, already feeling the pointed glares burning on his back. “I—I thought you liked him…” 

“I don’t,” you reassure them with a smile. “How could I when I’m in love with you guys?”

Mingi lets out a relieved scream, enveloping you in a tight hug to bury his face in your hair and inhale his favorite scent— the sweet smell of coconuts; you. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. We’ve been in love with you too.”

You take a peek from Mingi’s embrace to see the other boys celebrating; Wooyoung’s already chugging down a freshly opened bottle of wine while the rest of the boys are simultaneously doing tiny hops in a group hug and letting out excited yelps. Your cheeks ache from grinning too hard at how cute your boys are.

“_____! We need to go to the infirmary, we prepared something for you!” Yunho excitedly pulls at your arm, just remembering the bouquet and teddy bear for you, separating you from the blonde giant who’s now sporting a pout at you leaving him. 

You and Yunho both merrily skip your way to the infirmary with your hands intertwined and pink dusting your cheeks, unknowingly leaving a pink haired boy to meet his doom.

“Aha, who would’ve thought that she’s not actually in love with another guy?” San forced out a nervous chuckle, slowly backing up from his best friends and wishing he could disappear just about right now. “No hard feelings right? Everyone makes mistakes—”

“Shut up. Come here.”

Not too long after, a loud scream rings throughout the camp.

(“That sounds so much like San, don’t you think?” you worriedly ask the boy beside you who’s dwarfed behind the huge teddy bear he’s helping you carry to the Iris Cabin. 

“Nah, that’s not San.” Yunho calmly shrugs, his smirk hidden behind the gigantic bear plushie as he thinks of his own revenge against the culprit for his whirlwind of emotions he went through earlier today.)

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INTERLOGUE

BEFORE THE EMERGENCY MEET UP IN THE INFIRMARY…

“Mingi.”

“Huh?” The blonde boy in question looks up to see San barging into his room, looking as if he ran a marathon to Aphrodite’s cabin (which is exactly what he did). “How did you even get inside?”

San ignores his question. “You have a new brother?”

“Oh, Yeonjun?” Mingi nonchalantly asks, missing the way San’s figure goes rigid at his name as he returns to applying black polish on his nails. “Yeah, he just got here yesterday. Cool guy. What’s up?”

“I think _____’s in love with him.”

“What?!”

[solarswonderland]

dear hanbin

pairing: gn!reader x s.hanbin

wc: 0.5k

genre: fluff, highschool au

warnings: nothing really, just hopeless kids in love

summary: writing a love letter to him

a/n: ive never written anything like this before, I'm actually pretty proud of it. please lmk if it was alright 😓😓

*y.i: your initials

you were always a pen-and-paper person.

you didn't like typing down reminders or to-do lists, you preferred writing them down. there was just something so special about writing to you. probably the way you'd have to shake your pen occasionally because you ran out of ink. or the satisfaction you gain when you scratch out a completed task.

which is probably why you're standing in front of sung hanbin's locker, holding a carefully sealed envelope, decorated with hearts and small stickers you found stuffed deep in your desk drawers.

sung hanbin was truly not real, you thought. there was no way that man was real. he was just too good to be true. the adorable smile, the way he helps everyone around him, how he never got mad, how generous, smart, and nice he is. not to mention, he is incredibly handsome as well. it's no joke, everyone was in love with him. which is one reason you were always too scared to ever confess.

but if there was one thing you were confident in, it was your writing. you figured, since you can't form proper sentences in front of him, why not pen down your thoughts in the form of a letter instead? and that's exactly what you did.

you made sure no one was watching you and slipped the envelope into his locker. you breathed a sigh of relief and made you way to your next class.

after you were gone, hanbin made his way to his locker after basketball practice. he opened it and was startled to see a blue-colored envelope fall out. he grabbed it off the floor and opened it. he thought it might have been mistakenly placed in his locker, but instead was surprised when he read the first two words.

dear hanbin,

it was addressed to him after all. although he was tired and sweaty from practice, he was curious. he continued reading the letter.

dear hanbin,

my heart is racing with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, there are so many words i've been wanting to say to you for years, and i finally have the chance.

from the moment i met you in middle school, when you lent me your pencil because i forgot mine, i've liked you. who knows, maybe its love?

your smile lights up my darkest days, and you have never once failed to make me laugh. every interaction, no matter how small or big, is etched into my memory, replaying over and over again like a broken record. i've admired your kindness, your intelligence, and the way you effortlessly make everyone around you feel at ease.

i want you to know that my feelings for you have not faded with time, if anything, they've grown stronger.

i understand that this letter might come as a surprise, and let's be honest, life's unpredictable. but i couldn't hold back my feelings any longer than i already have. whether fate leads us down a path of togetherness or friendship, i just needed you to know the truth that has been in my heart for so long.

no matter what your response may be, i'll respect it. no matter where life takes us, know that you'll always hold a special place in my heart.

with love,

y.i ♡

he smiled to himself as he read it. just as he was closing the letter after re-reading it over and over again, he saw some text in the back which made him laugh.

do you like me?

□ yes □ no

no pressure, you don't have to tick anything right now :)

sorry that's kinda creepy isn't it

i should probably stop writing...

he grabbed a pen and ticked the 'yes' option, quietly giggling to himself.

© solarswonderland 2023

[munsonownsmyass]

Loving You Easy

Frank Castle x reader

Warnings: Oh, well... Plus size reader, insecurities, kissing. SMUT! oral (f receiving), fingering, bodyworhsip, praise, Frank saying 'Good girl' is a warning in itself, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl tho), creampie, cockwarming if you squint. And a little surprise.

Notes: So... Besides that little cameo in my Billy fic, I've never written for Frank. First full fic for him. Have I nailed his character? Probably not, but I still like what I made. Please be gentle.

And yes... This was super self-indulgent, I'm so sorry 🤣

This is part of the Thirsty for Cox april challenge, where we had to choose a song as inspo for our fic. My song was Loving You Easy by Zach Brown Band.

Words: 3.2 K

It’s the day most girls dream about their whole lives. The day they will go through countless of bad dates and the wrong men for, just to find the one guy that completes them. The one guy she can’t imagine living without.

This was that day. Dressed in white, looking more beautiful than ever. The wedding dress so beautiful it brings tears to your mother’s eyes. The hair and makeup flawless accompanied by a smile that would make even the darkest days brighter.

Unfortunately, this was not your day, but your sisters. While you were stuck somewhere between horrible dates and unfulfilling one-night stands, Jessie had found the love of her life. Matt was perfect. Lawyer, devilishly handsome and so kind and thoughtful.

And you were happy for them, you really were. But you could feel that little pang of jealousy, wishing you could have the same one day. And honestly, you didn’t even care about the big wedding and the whole ‘feeling like a princess’ thing. You just wanted someone to love and who would love you in return.

Sighing heavily, you adjust your dress one more time, looking into the mirror. Not even maid of honor, but that’s okay. Behind you the rest of the bridal party is giggling and having a great time worshipping the bride. Leaving silently, without them noticing, you walk outside to get some air.

“Need a drink?” A gruff voice asks, and you look up into a pair of brown eyes. The guy gives you a sideways smile, holding out his beer.

“What makes you think I’ll share a beer with a stranger?” You question, taking in his features. Dark brown hair, dark stubbles along his chiseled jaw and very kissable lips. Very handsome and definitely the type of guy you’d hit on at a bar. Of course, followed by a rejection, because a guy like that would certainly have someone.

“I’m following you down the aisle in 15 minutes, so we’re hardly strangers, princess.” He smiles, retracting the beer and take a sip, looking out over the beautifully decorated backyard of your parents’ country estate.

“I take it you’re Frank then?” You smile, stepping closer to him. Your eyes meet and he offers the beer once more and this time you take a sip of it.

“Yep. Frank Castle.” He extends his hand, and you shake it, giving him your name in return. For a while you just sit there, passing the bottle back and forth while making small talk, until your mother comes looking for you.

“Oh, Mushy, there you are.” She checks your makeup, visibly frustrated and takes the beer from your hands. “Would it kill you to act a little more ladylike, at least until after the reception?” Your mom walks back in, shouting for you to get ready. Frank gets on his feet, getting ready to go in with you.

“’Mushy?’ That’s not the most flattering nickname, I’ve heard.”

“Ah, well… I’m the chubby black sheep of the family.” You shrug, trying to seem unaffected even though you hate the nickname. Jessie had always been the pretty and skinny one, a real pageant queen kinda beauty, where you were not.

“Those are the best kind of people.” Frank winks at you with a soft smile, before you are both called inside.

The party is at full swing, and everyone is having a great time. Foggy have just given his best man speech, laughing with Matt and Karen, Jessie and the other girls are dancing, while you hide in the corner with a beer. In a glass of course, your mother almost giving you the evil eye when you tried drinking out of the bottle.

“Hiding from your mother?” Frank asks, stopping in front of you. You just nod, patting the chair beside you.

“Yeah, she can be scary.” You laugh as he sits down. Raising your bottle in a silent toast, you both take a drink of your beers. “I’m also hiding from my uncle. He always asks me to dance.”

“You don’t like to dance?” Frank asks with a soft smile.

“No one wants to see this-” you gesture towards your body, “twirl around the dancefloor.” You try to laugh it off, but by Frank’s expression you know he’s not buying it. He’s seeing right through you. He stands up, extending his hand to you.

“Come on, princess. Dance with me.”

“Frank, I…”

“One dance, that’s all I’m askin’.” He doesn’t remove his hand, just steps a little closer, insisting for you to take it.

You’re trying to come up with a polite way to turn him down, when it dawns on you. Here’s a gorgeous man willing to dance with you and you wanna say no? Are you crazy? Just when you take his hand, the band starts playing one of your favorite songs. Leading you out onto the floor, Frank takes a hold of you, swaying you softly to the music.

You make loving you easy

You make loving you all I wanna do

Every little smile, every little touch

Reminds me just how much it all makes

Loving you easy

As Frank swings you out and pull you back in, making you giggle, you notice how your sister is watching you. Hell, a lot of them are. This is why you don’t dance, unwanted attention. But still, you got to admit there’s one upside to it. Frank’s eyes looking into yours, his hand on your waist.

“Everyone is staring.” You whisper, looking to the side where your sister is whispering something to Matt, who only smiles.

“Probably ‘cause you look beautiful.” He muses, giving you another one of his cheeky smiles. Damn, is it even legal to be so handsome? You’re about to make a rebuttal, when Frank speaks. “And I mean it.”

Without warning, he dips you down towards the floor, making you squeal, probably drawing the attention of people around you. But you really don’t care, only focused on Frank.

Bursting through the door to your childhood bedroom, Franks lips never leave yours as his hands run down your body, caressing your soft curves. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous.”

“You’re drunk.” You giggle softly, kissing him passionately. He pins you against the wall, grinding his hard length against your heated core. You reach out for him, idle fingers unbuttoning his shirt. In a frenzy of hungry kisses and touches, your dress and his suit is soon spread all over the floor as you fall onto the bed with Frank on top of you.

Frank kisses his way down your body, licking and nipping at your sensitive skin. When he reaches between your thighs, he places soft kisses before diving in like a man starved. You gasp at the first contact, the feeling of his tongue making you shiver. But he slows down, wanting to take his time with you.

Slowly, he adds a finger, then another, stretching you open. Expertly he licks up your folds and sucking on your clit, leaving you a whimpering mess beneath him. “You taste amazing, princess. Making such pretty noises for me.”

“Fuck… Frank…” His name is barely a whisper, but it’s enough. Frank devours you like a man possessed. He finds that sweet spot in you that makes you see stars. With his name on your lips, you come.

More. You want more. “Please, Frank. Please fuck me.” You beg him, body writhing under his touch, your need for him strong, overwhelming.

On his way up you body, he makes sure to kiss every inch of skin, caress every curve. “So fucking gorgeous.” He mutters under his breath, placing another soft kiss between your breasts before he once again claims your lips.

His cock is at your entrance, begging to enter. He pushes in slowly, making you gasp as his thick length stretch you open. His eyes find yours so he can see your face twist in pleasure as he pushes deeper. As he bottoms out, you both pant in unison, his forehead against yours.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Shit…” He rolls his hips a few times, fucking you slowly. You whimper softly, wanting nothing more than for him to move faster, harder. You don’t even care who might hear you, lost in the feeling of him, wanting more.

Franks is so lost in you, not wanting this to end. He kisses you hungrily before he snaps his hips harder. As you close your eyes in pleasure, he looks at you. How your face twists in pleasure, how your body move under him with every thrust. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he wants nothing more than to stay like this for hours. Wanting nothing more than to hear you moan his name over and over.

All day you’ve been talking and all day he’s been thinking how your smile was the prettiest he’s seen in a long time and how he wish you could see the beauty in yourself that he could see. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he already knew he’d want more than just today. He’s been burying his feeling for such a long time, but you make him want to live again.

He can feel himself getting closer, so lost in how good you feel, how good you make him feel. He pulls your leg up, pushing deeper, hitting your sweet spot over and over. “I’m close. Please cum for me, baby.” He drives his cock deeper and harder, reveling in the way you moan. “Be a good girl for me and cum.”

His words wash over you, the praise pushing you over the edge. You scream out in pleasure, digging your nails into Franks shoulder. It’s only a few more thrusts before Frank comes, pushing in deep as he empties himself in you.

Frank puts his forehead to yours, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from your highs. You kiss him deeply, holding him close. You can already feel yourself wanting to see Frank again, but you wont get your hopes up. A guy like that is probably swarmed by women, many prettier than you.

You look away, hating your intrusive thoughts. As if he can read your mind, Frank cups your cheek, looking deeply into your eyes as he kiss you passionately. “That was something else, sweetheart.”

“Something good, I hope.” You bite back with a grin, making Frank smile. That damned smile. Fuck, he is a gorgeous man.

“Very good.” He smirks, kissing you softly before pulling out gently. After he helps you clean up, he surprises you by staying. He had his own room, but he lays down beside you, pulling you into his nook. You talk for a bit, about nothing important really, but it’s still one of the best nights of your life.

-

When you open your eyes, the sun is so bright it almost hurts. Or maybe it was just your head. You really shouldn’t have drunk all those beers with Frank. Your memory flashes back to the two of you, sitting outside in your parents gazebo with a ton of beers between you, listening to each other’s stories.

You look to the side and your heart drops. The other side of the bed is empty, Frank nowhere to be found. Even his clothes are gone from the floor. So, yet another one-night stand then. You’re starting to get too predicable, and you hate it. With a heavy sigh, you start to get dressed, getting ready for breakfast. There’s a soft knock on your door and you reluctantly open.

To your surprise, you find Frank outside the door, dressed in new clothes and looking ravishing. “Wanted to pick you up for breakfast.”

“Oh, I thought…” You begin, but stop yourself.

“That was I was just gonna up and leave?” He shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. “That ain’t my style, princess.”

You smile in surprise, walking out the door to follow him downstairs. Many of the guests have stayed over and the venue from last night had been turned into a breakfast buffet. Your parents had spared no expense for this wedding.

“Look, ‘bout last night, I-” Frank begins, but you stop him with a soft hand on his arm. Ever since your dance last night, you had feared this was too good to be true and when he kissed you after a few dances and too many beers, you knew it was probably only the alcohol talking. So it was better for you to stop him, than to be stung by his rejection.

“Frank, you don’t have to say anything. I’ve already heard it all. ‘It was fun, but let’s keep it to one night’, ‘You are cute, but I’m just not ready for a relationship’ or ’It’s not you, it’s me’. It’s okay, I get it.” You put on a fake smile, willing yourself to look into his eyes. “I’m not the kind of girl men wanna date.” You turn, just wanting to get away.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted a coffee when we get back to the city.”

You stop, not even sure you heard him right. Did he really, this gorgeous man, want to see you again? For a date? In broad daylight in the city? You look at him and the expression on your face makes him laugh. Suddenly, you’re speechless. “I don’t drink coffee.”

“Beer and pizza then? I know you like beers.” He closes the distance, smiling as he looks into your eyes. And you just nod, smiling wide, already looking forward to your date.

Two years later

Frank is standing in the kitchen making you breakfast. It had been two years since he met you. The best two years of his life. After Maria and the kids he never thought he could be happy again. Especially with the things he had done, with all the blood he had on his hand and all the lives on his consciousness.

But you had accepted him, accepted every flaw and loved him for the man he was, the man he had been. You never saw all the bad, only saw him. That morning after Matt’s wedding you had chosen him and still to this day, you woke up every morning and still chose him.

Your footsteps sound on the stairs, your sweet yawn filling the air. You had been tired lately, so he just let you sleep in today, wanting to surprise you on your anniversary.

You always complain about how awful you look in the mornings, never believing him when he calls you beautiful. But you are, inside and out, the most beautiful woman. Even with your hair in a messy bun, mouth ajar in a huge yawn as you sit down, his hoodie covering your beautiful curves, he would still say that nothing compares to you.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He says with a smile, pushing your tea over the counter towards you. With a grateful hum, you take a sip of the tea, eyes never leaving him as he continues making breakfast. Putting the utensils down, he fumbles with his phone as walks around the counter and extends his hand to you.

“What?” You ask, but then the music of a familiar song fills the air. Loving you easy, the first song you guys danced to. You don’t even argue, just take his hand and let him swirl you around the kitchen as the pancakes bake on the pan.

As he swings you around the kitchen, you sing along to the song that has become your song. You love mornings like this, thinking life can’t really get any better than this. Frank place soft kisses on your neck, finding that one ticklish spot you have, making you giggle.

But the smell of burned pancake pulls his attention back to the stove, cursing as he throws away the ruined pancakes. With your help, you quickly get the rest of the breakfast ready and fill your plates before sitting down at the table.

“So, what’s our plans today?” You question before taking a bite of your pancakes, moaning over how great they taste.

“Somethin’ that makes you sound like that.” He grins, sipping his coffee as he winks at you. Breaking of a piece of your pancake, you throw it at him.

“Alright, alright.” He huffs, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Dinner at that fancy Italian place, a movie and then back here. I want your wrapped around me all night.”

“That can be arranged.” You grin, biting your bottom lip. He gets up and stops by your side to kiss you, before he walks to a drawer and take out a small gift.

“Here, sweetheart.” He places the gift in front of you and carefully, you start to unwrap it. Inside is a small box. Opening it, you find a small blue dog collar with a shiny little dog tag.

“You said you wanted to expand our little family.” He says softly, pulling his chair closer and sitting down. “We’re going to pick him up tomorrow.”

You throw your arms around him, kissing him hard. You and Frank already had a dog, a beautiful Pitbull rescue named Red (Frank thought he was so clever with that one), but you both loved dogs and knew you wanted more.

“Actually… I was thinking the same thing, when I made your gift.” You say nervously, standing up to get your gift. Frank just laughs, taking the gift from your hands when you return to the table. He tears the paper off, stopping completely when he holds the stick in his hands.

You’ve been so nervous to tell him, so scared of how he would react. You knew losing his kids had been a pain worse than death, not sure if he ever wanted to have a child again.

When he still hasn’t said anything, his eyes still fixed on the positive test, you get anxious. “Frank, please say something.”

Tearing his eyes away from the test, his beautiful brown eyes find yours. You can see the tears threatening to spill. “I… I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Yeah, but… Only if you want to.” You whisper, looking down at your hands fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt. You feel Franks hands on your face, cupping your cheeks so softly. Bringing your gaze to his, you see the small smile on his face.

“I should have bought a ring instead of a collar.” He laughs, pulling you into a kiss. Wrapping his arms around you, he brings you closer until you sit on his lap. One hand moves from your back onto your belly. Nothing there to feel yet, still the notion makes you warm.

“I love you, Frank.” You kiss him again before snuggling closer to him.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He whispers into your ear, holding you tight. Things might not always be easy and things were going to change, but one thing that would always remain was your love.

You make loving you easy

you make loving you all I wanna do

Every little smile, every little touch

reminds me just how much it all makes

loving you easy

TFC girls: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @realfernmayo @pedrito-friskito @mindidjarin @mattmurdocksscars @saintmurd0ck @idrinkcoffeeandobsess

Tagging: @lucy-sky @darlingshane @boliv-jenta

[ikebo-simp]

I'm not exactly sure what sort of labels I need to put on here?

Basically Tighnari's a yandere who non-con drugs his darling with a love potion, if it's not your cup of tea, don't read more

~♡~

Tighnari breathed a sigh of relief, it was finally finished.

A rush of giddiness surged through him, he had finally created a love potion

Normally, he wouldn't never think about stooping so low, nature will take it's course and the mate will choose whoever has the better traits

But nature went off course and you, his darling mate, choose the wrong person

Tighnari's not sure what sort of odd illness you'd have to have, to choose Cyno over him

Really? Of all people to crush on?

No matter, he'd just have to "cure" your illness

He just has to sneak this into your dinner and everything will be right again~

~♡~

"Mmm! Tighnari! This mushroom pasta's really good!"

"I'm glad you like it" Tighnari fiddles with his food, sneaking glances to see if the potion's starting to work yet

"Wait! Did I tell you about what Cyno sai-"

A pause

"Hey Tigh, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?"

Tighnari flushed, you had complemented him! And you called him a nickname!

"And your tail looks so fluffy~! Do you take care of a lot?"

You finally noticed that he grooms specifically for you!

Any guilt that he might feel is immediately outweighed by the fact that he's on cloud nine.

"Ahem, you were saying something about Cyno?" He hated the name on his tongue.

"Who knows, I wanna focus on you~!"

"Only me?"

"Only you~ forever"

You finally saw the light! To be expected, "nature" took it's course

A/N This is probably the darkest thing I've ever written, but I love semi-happy endings

Thanks for Reading

[dreamingcloudie]

❛❛ In which; Dottore as a streamer... ❜❜

✎ ❛❛ I'll have to admit, this character is quite... alluring.❜❜

Pairing(s): Streamer!Dottore x (kinda) Game-Character!GN!Reader (Mordern AU)

Genre/Format: N/A (headcanons)

Warning(s): wrote this at 6am without thinking straight so possible grammar mistakes and sentences that don't make sense

Notes: There really isn't much of x Reader here, sadly :( I might write more of this in the future but idk

I know i have requests to do but this idea came out of nowhere and it was too tempting to not write something for it— I've only written headcanon once so this is short. I have no idea if I'm doing this right 💀

Let's be real, this guy would probably stream live torture on the darkest part of the internet

BUT, let's just pretend in this AU he's not an evil doctor man <3

He is a tired university student who majors in biology and thrives to earn a position in the medical field

And that means becoming a coffee addict and endless nights of staying up late to study 

Sleeping? What's that?

I can see him being so focused on his studies to the point where he doesn't interact with the internet much

If someone showed him a popular meme he wouldn't understand 

Boomer

L

Due to how busy he is, he doesn't have the time to find a job

He lives off of the money his parents send him every month lol

That was until someone introduced him to the wonders of the internet…

One of his friends—Childe, told him something about a streaming platform and he should go check it out

And that night when he got home, he pulled his laptop out and searched for it

He also learnt that people can earn money streaming whatever

For instance, most of the people streams "let's plays"

He scrolled down a little and he found people streaming… questionable things, and he was baffled they get paid for it

So that means, he could stream anything he wants and he'd earn money from it, as long as he has a certain amount of viewers 

Say less

And an account was made 

This basically becomes his part-time job now

He usually streams to tutor struggling students and you best believe they were very thankful 

He'll sometime do "study with me" streams too

As he takes his fifteen minutes breaks from studying, he'd talk to his viewers 

And when I tell you this man has the driest humor ever—

That's what got his channel to grow

Viewers would clip his dry ass jokes and post them onto other social media platforms, which caused his view counts to blow up

As he got more and more popular, his viewers would beg him to do gaming streams

With how dry his humor is, they thought his commentary would be gold…

And they're absolutely correct, they get to see a different side of him too 

Surgeon simulator is the very first game he was introduced to by his fans, to get him interested in gaming

Man's cursing every time when he accidentally drops something

"Now, we put this lung over— Shit."

Cue chat spamming the Kek emote 

It's been months since he started to stream and things are going pretty well for him

He comes back home from his lectures today to find his Discord server is filled with loads of fans telling him to check a game out, mostly because of a certain character

The general chat is flooded with hundreds, and I mean hundreds of pictures of them

And Lo and Behold

It is you

The moment he first has his eyes on you, his jaw drops

God DAMN YOU LOOK FINE AS HELL

Not to mention that harness you have on you—

Ahem

Anyways

He doesn't even know who you are or what game you're from

But man he's head over heels for you already 

The next time he starts his stream, the first thing he says is:

"Everyone was going crazy on Discord yesterday about a game character. And now my question is…

"Who are they and which game are they from?"

Babygirl took his first step into the world of simping <3

[multifariousqueer]

Precautions and Passings| Shurix Reader

Pairing: Shuri x scarlettwitch!reader

A/n: Hey guys! I’ve wanted to write something like this for a while now and the fact that I did is really just crazy to me. Request what else you’d like to see. This pic is dark asf and probably the darkest thing I've ever written. Also I didn't proofread this so if their are errors anywhere...ignore them?

Summary: Grief takes a toll on all of us doesn’t it? 

Word Count: 2.6k(it's a long one ik)

Warnings: ANGST OMG SO MUCH ANGST, death, m!rder, the dark hold, some suggestive undertones, explicit language, fluff, time jumps, dark!Shurixdark!reader

10 years ago:

“It’s so fascinating, her powers are unlike something I’ve ever seen before.”- Shuri said

“Is she a threat or not?” The elders asked.

“If we don’t play our cards right, yes. She has the power to create and destroy realities and universes including our own anytime.” Shuri answered.

“Bast have mercy on all of us” The elder of the merchant tribe said.

___________________________________________

You had met Shuri during a mission when your lip revealed that you were part wakandan. T’challa saw this and immediately took you back to Wakanda where Shuri was there waiting to run tests on you. She spoke so confidently and moved like she knew what and where everything was. Even though you practically had the powers of a God, you were still intimidated and afraid but you had to put on a facade and pretend you too knew everything.

“Do you speek Xhosa?” Shuri asked.

“Barely. Do you speak English?” You answered.

“Barely.” She smirked.

“Oh. Well um-” You started but you were immediately interrupted.

“I’m kidding. I guess your kind doesn’t understand basic humor?” She said.

“What do you mean “my kind”?” You said, sitting up and attempting to cross your arms but it seemed you were in some type of restraint.

“Just a precaution. We don’t know your power capabilities yet and we didn’t want you to lash out.” Shuri answered

“It’s okay.” You said, half insulted and half curious as to how they made restraints strong enough to hold you.

“So… from looking at your file, it appears a meteorite hit your house filled with some sort of substance that we don’t have in our records and it gave you your powers. Is that correct?” Shuri asked.

“Who am I kidding, it is correct” Shuri answered her own question.

“Well actually if you would’ve shut up and let me talk, you would know that while yes the basic information is correct, the ‘substance’ was actually a glowing red rock and the meteorite that hit my house, killed my parents and when i tried to go to the funeral…” You trailed off, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” Shuri said looking down.

“It’s fine.” You said looking down at the floor. You tried to fiddle with your powers but immediately heard an alarm and a shock flew through your body.

“Just a precaution?” You smirked at Shuri

You could tell she felt a bit embarrassed but she called off the alarm.

“We would like you to stay in Wakanda for a bit longer, just to keep you safe and run some more tests.” Shuri spoke.’

“Do I have an option to object?” You asked with a smirk

“No,” Shuri said, walking away.

“Get her set up in the reformative program” She spoke in her native language and left you alone on the table.

2 years later

It had been 1 year since you and Shuri made it official that you were dating. You were in her lab when you overheard T’challa talking about Thanos coming to Wakanda in search of the infinity stones and Vision coming to get it extracted by Shuri. It was bittersweet when you saw the avengers, of course these people practically raised you but at the same time, they gave you up so easily. You knew that this was bigger than you however so you prepared to fight and protect Shuri and Wakanda at all costs.

“I’ll stay by you, sthandwa.” you said to Shuri.

“Your Xhosa is getting better my love.” Shuri said to you.

“Thank you. I can now hold a basic conversation about the weather.” You chuckled

“And ask where the bathroom is,” Shuri laughed back.

You just smiled and looked at her for a moment.

“Are you okay?” She said

“I’m perfect, why?” You asked

Shuri had opened her mouth but was interrupted by the avengers waking in and Vision sitting on the table. You stayed with Shuri even after Thanos invaded Wakanda and fought off one of Thanos’ goons but in the end, it was too late. Vision had left the table and Shuri was injured. You stayed with her, healing her with your powers and asking her if she was okay.

“I’m fine it’s just,” She trailed off

“If it’s about Vision, I’ll go get him.” You said getting up

“No no it’s too late, the stone reverted back to its original state in his head, all that we can do now is hope that Thanos gets defeated or at least, doesn’t win” Shuri said.

You put your forehead against hers and you held her hand. You heard Thor scream out “WHAT DID YOU DO?” to Thanos and that’s how you knew that you were in the Endgame now.

You saw Shuri fade to dust and shortly after, you did too.

6 years later

“I now pronounce you wife and wife.” The officiant said.

You and Shuri had decided to get married after the blip. It made both of you realize how much you loved eachother and how much you needed eachother.

You smiled at how beautiful your Shuri looked and she smiled at how beautiful you looked. You kissed and she practically picked you up off of the ground. The ceremony was certainly grand because of the fact that you married a literal princess. Everyone danced and sang happy cheers for you and Shuri. There wasn’t a point in which you and Shuri weren’t smiling or laughing. You kept the tradition of the dance between you and Shuri so you slow danced to a song that had meaning to the both of you. It was the song you played while cleaning your room when Shuri walked in during the first night of your stay in Wakanda.

“I like this song. It has a nice beat.” Shuri said.

“The beat is one of my favorite parts of the song.” You said.

You laughed and took off your dress with your magic and let your hair down. You undid Shuri’s dress in one swipe of your hand and kissed her forehead before pulling Shuri closer to you.

“Mmmmm we haven’t consummated our marriage yet you know?” Shuri smirked.

“That’s about to change.” You said, waving your hand to turn off the lights and move you both to the bed.

When you woke up the next morning, you kissed Shuri’s forehead and rested your chin on her head. Your heartbeats were beating in sync and your legs still were entangled together from last night. She woke up and lightly kissed you on the lips before Griot alerted you both of you.

“Princess, T’challa’s vitals are incredibly low and he is not doing well.” Griot said.

“What??” Shuri jumped out of bed and threw on her robe.

“I don’t understand, he was moving just fine yesterday and everything was fine, what happened?” Shuri shouted to her frenzied staff.

“It doesn’t matter, find me the solution to recreating the heart-shaped herb from the fibers in this piece of vibranium.”

“Yes princess.” They said, running around

You sat beside T’challa’s bedside and held his hand. You attempted to heal him of the illness but it was too deep to fix. You held his hand to the very end and spoke to him.

“It's okay, you can rest now. I’ll take care of Shuri.” You said kissing his forehead.

You cried with Shuri when he passed and walked beside her at the funeral. You made sure she had your full love and support at this time. The Queen appreciated you being there and you used your powers in any way you could. You felt heartbroken that you couldn’t heal him or heal Shuri’s sadness but you could only do so much.

1 year later

Shuri had been in her lab for 3 days now. She wasn’t taking breaks like she used to and was pulling more all nighters. You knew why so you just held her hand through all of the pain and let her do whatever she needed to do.

“Hey I made you breakfast.” You said taking her dishes from last night’s dinner. It was picked over and barely touched despite you making her favorite dish.

“Didn’t you just make me a meal?” Shuri asked.

“That was dinner, honey it’s breakfast time. It’s 9:00 so you’ve been down here since Sunday.”

“I KNOW THAT Y/N. AND I’D APPRECIATE IF INSTEAD OF DIRTYING UP MY SPACE YOU WOULD JUST LEAVE.” Shuri shouted

“I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’VE BEEN DOWN HERE FOR THIS LONG, I HAVE NEEDS TO YOU KNOW. AND INSTEAD OF PUSHING YOU TO BE PRODUCTIVE, I’VE BEEN LETTING YOU DO WHATEVER YOU NEED TO GRIEVE SO BE CUT ME SOME FUCKING SLACK.” You screamed, levitating off of the ground and your powers coming out of your hands.

“OF COURSE YOU HAVE FUCKING NEEDS BECAUSE THAT’S ALL YOU TALK ABOUT.” Shuri shouted back.

“I JUST WANT MY WIFE BACK.” You cried.

“SHES DEAD. SHE DIED WITH HIM” Shuri sobbed

You hugged each other and sobbed. This was the part of grief and loss no one talks about; the part that makes you indulge in destructive habits and hurt the little family you still have. Shuri never meant to hurt you and you knew that but it was still painful when she would lash out. You got up and took her with you. You went up to the shower and cleaned her up a bit. She was still the most beautiful person you had ever met, despite the depression setting in. You got her in her favorite t-shirt of yours and put her in the bed. You laid beside her and cuddled her in as close as possible:

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. And I’m sorry for not making that clear enough and I’m sorry for everything I haven’t done for you…” Shuri trailed off. Her voice shook a bit and you could tell she was crying.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay. We’re struggling right now, we’re both grieving and that’s okay. Let’s just take it one day at a time.” You said softly

“Okay, sthandwa” Shuri said.

4 days later

“What do you mean my wife was kidnapped??” You screamed at Okoye.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I tried to get her back but they had superhuman stren-” Okoye excused

“THAT’S NOT AN EXCUSE. THAT’S MY WIFE AND I DON’T KNOW IF SHES DEAD OR ALIVE.” You screamed with tears in your eyes.

“You know what? Where was she taken? I’ll find her and murder their entire empire in one day.” You said.

“Y/n I know that you’re scared and I am too but attacking everyone in an attempt to find Shuri is not wise.” The Queen tried to advise

“I DON’T CARE. I WILL FIND MY WIFE AND BRING HER HOME SAFE NO MATTER WHAT. Because you clearly couldn’t” You said looking at Okoye, flying past her and suiting up.

You saw into Shuri’s mind using the darkhold and found where she was being kept. You teleported to the location which was underwater and saw Shuri with some girl. One of the blue people holding your beloved captive, put a knife to her neck.

“I’ll kill her.” The blue person said

“You don’t wanna know what I’ll do to get her back. Let her go and I’ll speak to your leader because you clearly aren’t the one in charge here.” You said.

“You killed her.” The blue person said holding the knife closer to Shuri’s neck drawing a bit of blood.

You teleported behind the blue lady and stabbed her through the torso. She fell to the ground and let Shuri go:

“Let’s go. Now.” You said

“Y/n you don’t understand, this will mean war.”

“I will wipe out these blueberries with one swipe of my hand, Let’s. Go” You said.

“Wait-” Shuri said.

You pulled her away and teleported back to the palace in front of the Queen. The Queen thanked you profusely and hugged Shuri for what seemed to be a fortnight.

“Thank you, Y/n. “ The Queen said through tears.

“It was no trouble at all.” You said.

Shuri and Aneka made a break for her lab and you made a break for the room in which you kept the darkhold. If what Shuri said about the blueberries starting a war was true, you had to be prepared. You saw through Shuri’s eyes that she was prepping technology when you sensed something was off. You knew that they were there and ready.

You fought and killed as many Talokans as you could when you heard Shuri’s scream. You rushed over to see her screaming for her mother as her lifeless body was laying on the water soaked throne room. You held Shuri and sobbed against her as you reflected on the last interaction you had with The Queen.

2 days later

You had stood by Shuri for the second time in the past 2 years in a funeral setting. You held her hand and watched as she prepared to kill the man responsible for her mothers death. You helped in any way you could, employing the help of the darkhold through it all and watching as your wife turned into the thing she resented the most. You watched as she turned into the black panther and prepared the warriors of Wakanda to get ready to execute her plan of attack. While you admit the suit looked good on her, you couldn’t help but notice the shocking resemblance to Killmonger’s suit. Deep down, you knew who she saw in the ancestral plane and you knew why she saw him. You knew everything that she thought she was a mastermind of hiding; you knew the burning feeling of revenge coursing through her veins and her master plan to execute her plan and almost drive the Talokans to extinction. Your fingertips hadn’t turned black from the book yet so you thought you were in the clear. Shuri hadn’t seemed to notice you were employing the help of dark magic at all; you expected this because she hardly paid attention to the little things anymore. Shuri was always a terse and broad person but the past 2 years she had become more of a “bigger picture” person. If it wasn’t directly in her face, she didn’t care.

You had fought off as many of the Talokans as you could. You killed more of them then people you ever met in your life. But still, despite these efforts they kept coming; they were like a cerberus. You cut off one head, another 4 pop up in it’s place. You must’ve killed off half of their army when you saw Shuri and Namor come over the boat. You were proud of Shuri for not resorting to murder and for being the bigger person. Shuri and you both went home and got cleaned up and went to sleep together for the first time in weeks.

4 days later

Shuri had insisted you both go on a walk around Wakanda and check on some of the families affected by the attack. You happily obliged since this was the first time she had offered up an outing in years. You two journeyed away into the forest when you both swung each other around and before you knew it, she was on top of you:

“How did I get so lucky?” She had asked you

“I ask myself that everyday” You smiled.

She leaned in for a kiss when a portal suddenly appeared:

“Y/n L/n?” The man asked

“Who’s asking?” You said, slightly frightened and slightly pissed that you were being interrupted.

“Stephen Strange. We need to have a talk about the darkhold.”

[got-ticket-to-ride]

I want to ask you this cause it seems like you’re the lyric person here in the fandom. I was listening to Paul’s ‘driving rain’ album and I just wanted your opinion on it Mclennon wise. Lonely road I’m sure is a definite Mclennon song with lyrics like

“tried to get over you

I tried to find

something new

But all I could ever do

was fill my time

With thoughts of you

I tried to go

somewhere old

To search for my pot of gold”

aka that dream that John and Paul both shared when they were younger about them finding gold in the dirt or something. But what I want to really know is about ‘riding into Jaipur’. It just feels Mclennon to me? And I did some research and found out that Paul recorded ‘lonely road’ and ‘riding into Jaipur’ On the same day…. Thoughts ? ( sorry I hope this all came out clear English is not my first language)

Hey Anon,

thank you for your message! I am also a Mclennon-newbie and in no way an expert (having only read 3 books so far because of laziness lol). I hope I will make sense with this. Feel free to correct me or add any additions @/everyone.

"Driving Rain" being the album title song, is probably the theme of the album, the song suggests that Paul's mental health has been dwindling. I guess due to Linda's death in 1998 at the same time, George Harrison had been struggling with his health around the same time this album is being created. So those are probably triggers.

Letting sunshine in the darkest places When I've been going there again

I think John's influence and memories will always be a huge thing in Paul's songwriting.

Here are my thoughts on the songs you mentioned:

Lonely Road Paul himself said that pot of gold was used to just rhyme with old and that it is half imagination/half reality. "He does not need gold anymore". But I think gold is more of a metaphor for "love" in this sense.

"I hear your music and it's driving me wild Familiar rhythms in a different style I hear your music and it's driving me wild again"

"Paul went into his past". Especially this latter part sounds like something he is saying to John. I guess even listening to new music makes him think of John. It was their thing to listen to LPs, so that's just intensely sad.

Riding to Jaipur According to Paul this song was not written in India but during his vacation with Linda in Maldives. (Though Paul had visited Jaipur in 2001).

Weirdly enough, Jaipur is called the Paris of India. Connecting these two places of significance to the Beatles. This might actually be a Beatles dedicated song.

The guitar he used sounds like a sitar and that's George's thing and then Jaipur being the Paris of India would connect it to John.

[imagineitdearies-old]

do you have any fav fics right now?

Hey anon! I have been taking a bit of a back seat on writing, so BOY do I have a ton of fics to recommend. I'm guessing you might be looking specifically for lucemond? I'll try to rec mostly that, though a few rhaenicent might slip in too 😁

(note some of these have dark content, please as always read the tags!)

(K)not me by Avonne - as always, @avonneslovelies delivers the perfect twisted combo of steaming hot smut and an emotionally-conflicted, hard-but-actually-soft Aemond. Can’t wait for future updates, but it stops in a good place to read like a one-shot!

as if you were a mythical thing by greynovembers - Lucerys as a sacrificial offering to god!Aemond? I will read this premise a million times, but this one-shot is probably my favorite rendition so far of this pairing.

prisoners of war; me and you and our baggage by @glaciya - have I recommended this before? Yes, yes I have. But now there are two more chapters!! If you aren't following this sweet amnesiac-fisherman!Lucerys fic, you are losing out.

Blood Ties by vishini - Relatively new, and yet the best omega!Aemond I've ever read?? A lovely remix of the usual 'Lucerys locked up and married off to Aemond during or post-Dance' where it's Aemond locked up, but the arranged marriage happened a long time ago pre-Dance. Regularly getting updated too, so anyone who likes omega!Aemond--READ THIS!!!

Real gods require blood by maya28 - (edit) I can’t believe I forgot to include this one—speaking of ‘Lucerys locked up during or post-Dance’ here is my new favorite for this trope. Possibly will surpass anything else at this rate it’s THAT good in writing style, characterization, and plot (not to mention the smut gahhhhhh), and it’s regularly updating! Pleeaaaase everyone read this.

hamartia by hypothesistest @goodbadbaby - Another omega!Aemond (and finished), but modern and full of catholic guilt. Chef's kiss!

tonight I'm gonna cut it out and restart by alphayamergo - Okay, so it's rhaenicent, but surprisingly in Otto's POV and I still loved it. That tells you how well this cute, hilarious one-shot is written, lol.

the loving needs the bleeding by monkkeyslut - Both rhaenicent and lucemond, modern horror inspired by the show 'Midnight Mass' and written by monkkeyslut so of course I just had to read it.

Nekonarashi by @chibifier - Filthy, noncon but also kind of funny??? Idk man, all I can say is this: Lucerys wearing cat ears & tail + Aemond in a business suit = yes

Nobody Nothing Nowhere by hypothesistest - definitely the darkest thing I've read in a while....I almost hesitate to flat out recommend it, even though it's written beautifully. All I can say is that the ending is SO satisfying and if you can handle a lot of sad underage/noncon content, the catharsis of the last chapter is more than a fic has made me feel in a while.

If you read any of these, remember to give the authors some love :) it's the biggest contribution we readers can make to keep this fandom going!!

[oceangirl24]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks @mrsmungus for the tag. ❤️

❣️How many works do you have on AO3?

13 total, including three fanart art gifts. The only writing I have is my current work. I'm bringing the old FFN stories over on another account.

❣️What is your total AO3 word count?

834,995- 1 million before the year's end would be nice.

❣️What fandoms do you write for?

So far only Boy Meets World. The fanart gifts have been in other fandoms.

❣️What are your top five fics by kudos? Autumn in Philadelphia Trilogy- 243

Flashbacks- 109

Christmas to Last a Lifetime- 94

Not too shabby for such a massive series with an OC as a main character.

❣️Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. Eventually.

Ever single comment is incredibly important to me and I don't always have the spoons to respond the way I want to. Rather than rush a response, I wait until I can give it my full attention. There are times, however, when certain comments appear to go answered for months. Those are comments from people I am in touch with privately and have already thanked. I will respond to those in time as well.

❣️What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Darkest Night without question.

❣️What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

At this point, probably Christmas to Last a Lifetime.

❣️Do you get hate on your fic?

Is having someone throw a tantrum in your comments hate?

The writer who did this was upset over how the first part of AiP ended because they did not read the tags or summary. They also complained about my OC being better than theirs and whined about liking Audrey more as though at 11 years old I created with Aud malicious intent to hurt them 20+ years later. 🙄

This was the person who also tried to push me out of the fandom, harassed me, and stole my work.

So, hate, no. Immature, entitled behavior, yes.

❣️Do you write smut?

No it's not my thing to read or write. My story is canon compliant and I'm staying true to the content of the show as well. Since it's a 90s kids' sitcom, situations were only dealt with to a certain degree.

❣️Do you write crossovers?

Technically. lol The AiP trilogy is a crossover with BMW and its sequel show, Girl Meets World, but since it's in the same universe I don't count it.

I am in the works of doing a real crossover that I'm really excited about, hopefully soon.

❣️Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. See the hate on fics response.

I debated how much to say since my socials are still being monitored but you know what, I don't care.

This person stole big chunks of my work from three of my stories and readers have noticed. That's how I became aware of it. Two readers brought it to my attention and just recently another mentioned it also.

I've dealt with it thanks to my dear friends who have had my back through this year + long ordeal.

And ngl, it was satisfying to see her panic and meltdown when the report was submitted and rush her ending. The subsequent attempts to cover her tracks have been popcorn worthy as they have been both comical and pathetic.

Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm too nice and give too much benefit of the doubt which is why no one outside of my friends' circle has seen the massive report on the theft and harrassment.

However, should you dear [REDACTED] try it again, I'm holding onto that report and won't be so nice the second time around. It won't be your friend who's been asking for the link since December 8th that I'll give it to either.

❣️Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge.

❣️Have you ever co-written a fic?

Not yet!!! But soon and I'm so excited.

❣️What's your all-time favorite ship?

As for canon ship, they change all the time, but currently it's

❣️What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

At this point it's looking like Birthday Wishes. lol I mean, I have it outlined to the end and the next chapter is almost ready to go, but I'm prioritizing Saudade and have little time for BW, unfortunately.

❣️What are your writing strengths?

I'm not sure. May be characterization? Possibly world building and character development.

❣️What are your writing weaknesses?

Conciseness. lol Also SPAG editing. My brain skips words like crazy when writing and even editing. No matter how many times I go over things, I miss so much.

❣️Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I avoid this personally because I know enough that I'd mess it up. And I only know Swedish which isn't really a language that figures into my work naturally.

As for fics I'm not writing, it really depends on how it's done.

❣️First fandom you wrote for?

Boy Meets World. First published was Labyrinth.

❣️Favorite fic you've ever written?

Ah, how to chose. Autumn in Philadelphia trilogy. I can't get anymore specific than that. lol

No pressure tags to play for: @axolotlsupremacyowo @tsunderesalty @amberlide @winterlovesong1 @justanotherpersonwhowrites @obscureobsidiandraws @stealing-your-kittens @bees-and-sunshine @ligercat

If anyone would like to be included in the tags, please let me know and I'll be sure to get you next time.