welikeclownsinthishouse - Tumblr blog

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Love that man and his laugh

Need to hear his laugh once a month as a mental recharge

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Working on my current WIP while my brain is telling me about another WIP it wants to start.

Now I'm working on two WIP's.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 31 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 31: PTSD/crying

Walking down the bustling streets Ben could feel his skin itch with something he couldn't place, some emotion that was so foreign to him he didn't even know what it might be. The itching wasn't new though, he felt it ever since he was freed from that forsaken chamber he was trapped in, but it started getting stronger and stronger with every passing day.

At first, he thought it was the cold air hitting his unprepared skin but now he wasn't naked anymore and he had been in the States for days now; he should be feeling alright but he just wasn't.

He could feel the itching steadily grow, the voices around him just making it so much worse. He glanced around and watched the people around him, watched how they talked and laughed and-

Someone ran into him then and Ben had to suppress a flinch at the sudden contact. He barely turned toward the person before the guy threw out a hasty apology and ran off, undoubtedly trying to get somewhere.

The contact seemed to linger though, the itching getting worse where the guy's shoulder had knocked into Ben's, travelling down his arm like a poison. Ben stared at his hand for a second before he continued walking, trying to forget the weird feeling in his stomach as he did so.

The voices around him seemed to get louder and more distorted but he couldn't understand why; he was fine. As he walked the faces of the people around him started to blur together and the already loud voices rose until he couldn't even hear his own thoughts.

He started shaking softly then, a tremor that was barely there but annoying nonetheless. The queasy feeling in his stomach seemed to grow as well but Ben didn't pay it any mind, he just quickened his steps and tried to ignore the things going on around him as best as he could.

It didn't work, however, the voices were too loud, the itching too noticeable and the faces too uncanny. Suddenly though it stopped; the voices sounded normal again and he could make out the faces of two people walking past him, arms around each other while they talked.

He was relieved for just a second before he heard something else, something that made his blood freeze and his brain short-circuit long enough for him to just stop. He couldn't understand what was said, he just heard a melody accompanied by words that were familiar and unknown at the same time.

Ben could feel his breath quicken and his hands started to shake while his pulse got erratic. He looked around frantically, trying to spot where the noise was coming from but his vision started to darken, black spots obscuring it until he couldn't see at all. His vision wasn't the only thing taken from him though, his hearing was gone as well as his ability to feel anything other than his rapid heartbeat.

When he finally regained his hearing his vision was still fuzzy and he couldn't see anything except smoke, smoke that hadn't been here before. He could hear the crackle of fire which would definitely explain the smoke and the orange-red bursts he could see through his still blurred vision.

He didn't hear much more than that, the crackling was loud, almost deafening, pierced only by the sound of sirens in the distance that seemed to grow louder with each passing second. So on shaky legs, he continued walking, stumbling over debris that was left as the only indication that there had been something else than a road.

He continued walking until he couldn't hear the sirens anymore, continued until his vision finally cleared enough for him to see properly. When he finally reached a distance he was satisfied with stopped once again before he took a few shuddering breaths, trying to regain his composure.

He could feel something warm trail down his face, collecting in the crook of his neck but he ignored it; if he didn't acknowledge it it wasn't there, was it? It was enough that he had lost time again, that he had lost control again so he would not admit to being weak as well. He wasn't.

He stayed like that for a while, just trying to breathe while his eyes stayed blurred and his shirt began to cling to him at his collarbone because of the moisture that was still running down his face.

After a few more minutes he finally wiped the tears away, cursing himself for having become someone he would have hated before he continued walking.

He continued to try and ignore the fresh tears gathering in the corner of his eyes after that in a last-ditch effort of trying to save the last bit of respect he had for himself.

He failed.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 30 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 30: silent treatment

Hughie still hasn't said anything to him, not one fucking word and it's been two whole days since they had their stupid argument. The lad was just completely ignoring him, he didn't even look at him for more than a second at a time.

Butcher didn't even really care if the lad talked to him; he could go fuck off and never come back for all he cared. Still, he found himself trying to get Hughie to talk to him, even if it was just to tell him to leave him alone but he didn't even do that.

And honestly? It was starting to get annoying, really fucking annoying actually. Nothing he said or did elicited any kind of reaction from him, he just continued to watch his stupid videos.

Butcher tried not to let this get to him, to wait it out but every time he looked at Hughie and saw the stupid phone in his hand he felt an enormous amount of annoyance well up in him. At first, it wasn't too hard to ignore, it wasn't too hard to look the other way after he had just said something without getting a response but now? Now he was getting pissed.

They had a bloody job to do and Hughie wasn't helping at all; it was worse that no one besides him cared that Hughie was doing nothing to contribute.

Butcher glanced back at Hughie then, watched the way he was seemingly biting one of his nails while bouncing his leg, watched how his eyes stayed glued to his phone while M.M. walked past him. The lad didn't react to anyone it seemed and that just made Butcher angrier; who does he think he is?

So with an annoyed huff, he walked over to him, ignoring the scolding look M.M. threw him before he yanked out one of Hughie's earbuds; he ignored the way Hughie flinched when he did, it wasn't important right now.

"Can you stop it with the fucking silent treatment?" Butcher snarled then, his eyes meeting Hughie's as they widened in barely contained surprise. Hughie didn't answer him immediately, instead, he just stared at Butcher, his eyes still wide and maybe even a little frightened.

"I can't believe you're acting like a bloody kid just because you got your feelings hurt." Butcher continued and he couldn't ignore the flinch this time, couldn't ignore the way Hughie's eyes fell to the ground and he couldn't ignore the way Hughie's hands started trembling now that he wasn't focusing on the music video still playing on his phone.

"Sorry," Hughie mumbled after a few seconds, his voice so quiet Butcher wouldn't have heard it if the room hadn't been completely silent otherwise. Butcher continued staring at Hughie and thought about yelling at him some more, just to make a point, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Fuck off." He said instead before he dropped the earbud and stalked off. As he walked away he continued to ignore M.M. who was now looking at him in open distaste, he also ignored the way his chest tinged after seeing Hughie like that.

He would just continue to ignore all of it until it went away; this wasn't important anyway.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 29 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 29: forced to choose

Butcher loathed Homelander, loathed him so much that even looking at his stupid fucking face sent ripples of unbridled fury through him. Now though? Now he was almost blind with fury, so blind that he almost shot the asshole standing in front of him with one hand on Hughie and one on Ryan.

"You get to take one of them with you but the other one stays with me." The supe had told him a few minutes ago, a giant fake smile plastered on his face as he spoke. He hadn't said anything since then, just stared at the asshole as he thought about his best course of action.

He thought about waiting this out, about hoping the others would find them but how could they? They didn't even know where they were and it's not like Butcher could just text them, not with Homelander standing right there, just staring at him.

Then he thought about choosing one of them and getting him back later after he made a concrete plan, but he did need to make a choice for that wouldn't he? He didn't fucking want to though, didn't want to give the supe what he wanted but with each second that passed by he knew that was his only option.

He didn't even really know why he thought this hard about this, about who to choose, he should just take Ryan and leave but the resigned, almost accepting look on Hughie's face just rubbed him the wrong way.

Didn't help that the guy reminded him of Lenny; that particular realization came suddenly and almost ended with Butcher's fist buried in Hughie's face. Still, it shouldn't change anything, wouldn't change anything; it couldn't change anything.

He promised Becca he would take care of Ryan, promised he would keep him safe and he wouldn't be safe with Homelander, but-

He couldn't just leave Hughie with the supe either, could he? The lad wouldn't stand a fucking chance against him, wouldn't make it more than a few days before Homelander either killed him or broke him and Butcher couldn't do that to his- couldn't do that to Hughie.

Not to mention that the others would fucking kill him if he didn't bring Hughie back with him, they already hated the fact that he took Hughie on this little trip in the first place. If he had just fucking listened-

Homelander made an impatient noise then, interrupting Butcher's thought process with it. Butcher could see the hand on Hughie's shoulder tighten, could see the slight twist of pain on his face but the lad didn't speak, not after Homelander told him to stay quiet just minutes ago, before he told Butcher to choose.

Butcher looked over at Ryan a second later, he couldn't stand the look on Hughie's face anymore and saw the hopeful but somewhat scared expression on his young face. It was the same expression Ryan had on his face when Becca died and he thought Butcher would leave him in the woods with Homelander.

He looked back at Homelander then, studied the smug expression on his face and he just knew that Homelander thought he knew who Butcher would take with him. His gaze found Hughies again then and he tried to convey as much emotion as he could without explicitly saying anything.

Butcher saw Hughie nod ever so slightly not long after their eyes met but Hughie's expression didn't change. Butcher really wanted it to but the look of resignation stayed fixed on Hughie's face even as he turned toward Homelander, staring the supe right in the eyes as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I'll take Ryan with me." Butcher said finally, his voice gruff and weaker than he would have liked but it got the point across and he almost smiled when he saw the relieved expression on Ryan's and the surprised expression on Homelander's face; he avoided looking at Hughie though, he couldn't do it, not after what he just did.

He could feel his stomach constrict with guilt as his eyes stayed on Homelander's face, the look of surprise still present and so clear that Butcher could almost feel the emotion himself. He still didn't look at Hughie, instead he looked back at Ryan who smiled softly at him and it almost made the queasy feeling in his stomach go away. Almost.

Homelander didn't say anything even as he released the barely there hold on Ryan's shoulder and he kept that silence as Ryan practically ran over to Butcher. Butcher wasn't sure why but Homelander seemed especially angry right now but he had the feeling it wasn't just because he chose Ryan instead of Hughie.

He didn't dwell on that though, he couldn't. Not with Homelander still so close and so unpredictable; he needed to get out of here as soon as possible, after that he could think about this as much as he wanted to and he definitely would.

Butcher still didn't look at Hughie even when he finally turned around and started guiding Ryan out of the room, no one spoke either, not until Butcher and Ryan were finally out of the room at least.

"He knew I wouldn't hurt Ryan, he still chose you to stay here." The words were spoken almost softly, with barely contained anger beneath them and Butcher knew they were spoken directly to Hughie.

"He left you with me even though he knows what I might do to you." Homelander continued and Butcher knew he wasn't done talking but he couldn't stop himself from walking away, he couldn't listen to this. He barely heard Hughie make a noise of acknowledgement before he was too far away from the room, his hand holding Ryan's tightly as he pulled the kid along.

If Butcher weren't so angry at himself and at Homelander he would have noticed that the words weren't spoken with the same animosity Homelander usually used, nor were they particularly mean. They just stated a fact.

Butcher knew Homelander wouldn't hurt Ryan, why would he? He wanted the kid to like him but Butcher had left Hughie with the supe anyway, had given him up with barely a second thought. He frowned as he continued walking down the steps, the familiar feeling of guilt almost consuming him completely, even overwriting the always-present anger that coursed through his veins like oxygen.

He could feel the shockwave of Homelander's departure only a few minutes later and he abruptly stopped walking, desperately hoping to hear steps catching up behind him but there was nothing.

The only steps audible were his and Ryan's after they continued walking.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 28 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 28: peer pressure/sweating

Jack was excited, giddy even. He was going to his first real party and he couldn't be happier, the only thing that could make his night better would be if he were able to talk to Sam and Castiel about it.

He knew they wouldn't want him to go however and all his friends would be there so he had to be there too. This is why he snuck out the second they went to bed; his friends were already waiting not too far away from the bunker.

When he got into the car he could feel himself get nervous and maybe even uneasy, he wasn't sure exactly. Still, he stayed in the car, listening to his friends talk about how amazing the party would be. He just smiled along and looked at the big smiles on his friends' faces.

As they got closer to Steven's house he started hearing loud, booming music and he could feel the excitement thrumming under his skin, overpowering the nervousness he couldn't shake.

As they stopped the car his friends immediately rushed out and toward the house; Jack scrambled out of the car as well, rushing into the building just a second after his friends did.

It was loud inside, almost overwhelmingly so and it was warm too; Jack could feel himself start to sweat slightly just from entering the house. The next thing he noticed was the smell. He wasn't sure what it was he smelled, a mix of the drinks Dean always had, sweat, smoke and something Jack had never smelled before, something heady and spicy.

Jack looked around the room, trying to find where the smell was coming from, trying to find his friends as well. He was still excited to be here but now he kinda wished he was at home with Sam and Castiel. He felt a little overwhelmed in here, the loud music and the large amount of people made his skin itch in a way he couldn't explain.

Before he could think about this further though he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a voice yell into his ear,

"Here! Drink this, you look way too tense, man." As Lou, his friend, spoke he pressed a red cup filled to the brim with something that smelled even worse than Dean's stuff into Jack's hands.

Jack took the cup hesitantly before he smelled the drink up close, wrinkling his nose as the smell hit him. He turned toward Lou who still had a hand on Jack's shoulder before he smiled slightly and said,

"No thank you." He could see Lou frown a little in response and instantly felt bad. Did he make his friend mad now? Dean always frowned when he got mad. Or maybe he frowned because he didn't understand Jack; Castiel did that a lot.

"Come on man! We're all drinking, you can't not." Lou yelled back, clearly not happy but Jack didn't want to, he really didn't. But if all his friends did then he should right? He frowned and looked back at the cup still grasped tightly in his hand, deciding whether or not to take a sip.

Before he could decide however he felt another hand on his shoulder.

"Don't just stare at it mate, you gotta drink it." Steven, he realized with a little start, said on his other side while he looked encouragingly at him.

"He doesn't want to!" Lou yelled over Jack's head while looking at Steven with a weird expression. Jack opened his mouth to speak but Steven started talking before he could.

"Oh come on, you have to!" He shook Jack's shoulder a little as he spoke, his gaze never leaving Jack's as he did. Jack still didn't want to but the way his friends were staring at him made him feel bad.

His friends wanted him to and they were drinking as well so it shouldn't be too bad right? Still, he hesitated a little until Steven moved a hand under the cup, guiding it toward Jack's face until he could feel the cold plastic on his bottom lip.

Jack took a deep breath before he took a sip and if Steven's hand wasn't still under the cup, keeping it steady, then Jack would have stopped drinking right then.

Whatever it was burned in his throat and tasted disgusting, he had to take deep breaths just to keep himself from coughing and he tried to stop drinking but Steven didn't let go of the cup until it was completely drained.

Finally, Steven let go of the cup while yelling loudly into Jack's ear and Jack could hear Lou do the same, both obviously happy that Jack drank what they gave him. Jack however tried desperately not to cough at the steady burn in his throat, the queasy feeling he could feel in his veins didn't help much either.

After they finished shouting they pointed at the large bowl filled with the drink Jack had just had before they left, leaving Jack in a room full of too many people and too much noise.

He took a deep breath and wiped away the sweat that started making its way down his forehead before he walked deeper into the house, trying to find the rest of his friends but every person he saw was a stranger to him.

He could feel the excitement from earlier dwindle completely now, replaced by a new bout of uneasiness but he couldn't just leave, could he? His friends wanted him here and he did want to be here, didn't he?

Shaking his head he walked back to the front of the house where he spotted Lou getting a drink with someone Jack didn't know. With a relieved smile, he walked over to Lou but before he could talk to him he left, running toward some guy called Hugh who Jack never heard of before.

He didn't know what to do now if he was honest, he had never been to a party before and it was way too loud to get to know people here. The heat didn't help either, the sweat running down his temple and his neck was getting as annoying as the people around him.

He looked back around the room, trying to spot his friends once more but he still didn't see anyone so with a sigh he walked out of the house. He just wanted to get some fresh air, he thought that might help get rid of the queasy feeling that was brewing in his stomach.

When he reached the front door he quickly slipped out and the cool air felt divine on his sweaty skin. He kept walking until he was at the edge of the lawn and then until he was just down the street from the house. He could still hear the music as he walked but it got more and more quiet the further he walked.

He thought about stopping, about going back but he didn't want to, he really really didn't. He walked so far and so long that his legs ached and his throat hurt from the exceeding speed of his steps.

He still kept going though, he kept going until he finally saw the bunker door, and kept going until he was finally back at home. As soon as he closed the door behind him and walked down the steps he could hear Sam say,

"Jack? Where the hell have you been? Are you alright?" There were mixed emotions in Sam's sentence ranging from relief to anger to worry but Jack just smiled and hugged him, happy to be home again.

"Sam is Jack-?" Castiel asked then while he walked toward them, probably a little bit confused about the scene in front of him. After a moment he just joined the hug and Jack finally felt completely happy and content for the first time since he got in the car only two hours earlier.

He knew they would be mad at him later, that they might ground him but he didn't care; he was just happy to be here.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 27 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 27: forgotten/locked away/immortal

It wasn't often that he was awake and conscious these days; he spent most of his time in a haze or asleep, his body aching and tingling in weird intervals that left him feeling trapped in his own skin.

If he did reach consciousness he spent his time counting the time, seeing how long he could stay conscious before the Russians came back, either to put him back under or to experiment on him. He hated it when they chose to experiment on him, despised it so much he could feel the anger almost tearing him apart from the inside but he couldn't do anything about it; the gas they used on him was too strong.

So he just simmered silently, glaring at them each time they took him out of his box. His anger didn't dissipate, instead, it got stronger and stronger with each passing test. Even as the experiments got more and more brutal his anger didn't waver. The only thing mixing with the all-consuming anger was the feeling of overwhelming unease when he noticed that they sometimes didn't even wake him up to experiment on him.

At first, he didn't notice, how could he? But when he woke up not too long after he first got here he felt wrong, his body felt wrong. It was like something had been buried deep under his skin, a nagging feeling that wouldn't go away until the next time they brought him out to experiment on him again.

He saw them take some weird metal wiring out of his chest then and he knew he wouldn't even get peace in sleep; it was still better than the mind-numbing pain the experiments brought with them.

So, at first, he had preferred to be put back to sleep, to go back to sweet nothingness while they did what they wanted to him but that changed rather quickly. It changed as quickly as the anger left him; it just seeped out of him one day and didn't come back. It's like he lost his will to fight after they had sawed off his leg.

Then, after he had been put to sleep for the nth time, he had the sudden realization that they hadn't taken him out in a while, and the weird feeling that always came when they took him out while he was asleep hadn't been there in a just as long.

He could still see them sometimes, walking past his chamber without glancing at him as if he was nothing more than a piece of furniture, something to dress up the room. He tried to get the anger back when he watched them work on who knows what but it didn't.

The only feeling that tried to claw its way to the forefront of his mind was a bone deep sadness and a kind of desperation he had never felt before. He tried not to be such a fucking pussy about this he really did but counting the seconds didn't do the trick after a while; it just made it worse.

He couldn't keep track of them, couldn't get his mind to focus on the task at hand for long before it slipped back into why me, why me, why-

He couldn't even punch anything to get rid of these stupid thoughts, couldn't take deep breaths either without inhaling too much of the gas that would put him back under. So, in an almost desperate attempt to get a grip, he started thinking about Payback and about the Crimson Countess; especially the Crimson Countess actually.

He thought about the first time they met, the first time he got her into his bed and about the plans he had for their future. And at first, it helped, kept him distracted long enough that he wouldn't even notice the way the Russians completely ignored him.

It didn't work for more than a few weeks before the happy memories got turned into questions he couldn't know the answers to; he didn't really want to know if he was honest. He knew she must be looking for him, that she missed him and would try to get him back, so why was he so unsure about it?

The only reason why he was still here, why she hadn't rescued him yet, was because she didn't know where he was. How could she? He barely found out that the guys keeping him here were Russians so of course she needed more time.

But as the days turned into months and the months turned into years Ben found himself believing in her less and less until he was stuck in an endless pool of hopelessness. He still tried to get the anger back, to get back the will to fight but nothing came up.

He didn't even have enough energy to keep the sadness out anymore even if that made him weak, made him useless. He wouldn't be useful in here anyway so why fight it?

Not even the thoughts about Crimson Countess could chase these stupid feelings away, nor could they change anything about the ever-present loneliness that made everything even harder.

Some days he even thought about asking the russions to hurt him, to touch him or to interact with him but he didn't. He wouldn't. He would rather stay here forever than admit defeat, he would never stoop so low.

So, the Russians didn't do anything with him, they didn't even look at him. It's like they forgot about him after the first few years of constant torture like they were just keeping him there as a souvenir or something.

Or maybe they were trying to see how long he would be able to make it before he cracked, before he did start asking for them to do something but he would never; he would spend the rest of his seemingly unending life in this chamber if it meant staying strong. At least as strong as he could be after this, after crying like a bitch just because he missed his girlfriend.

Still, the hopelessness and the building desperation for any kind of human interaction plagued his every waking moment, not leaving him for a second.

Even the thoughts and memories he had, the ones that usually distracted him and gave him the strength to power through were losing their appeal; with each passing moment of consciousness he lost a bit of hope.

Maybe she really forgot him? Maybe she was happy he was gone? Maybe she had started a new life without him, without thinking about him at all?

These thoughts invaded Ben's mind often but he always chased them away; he knew Crimson Countess would never do that to him, she loved him after all.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 26 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 26: nonconsensual touching

Hughie didn't like being at Vought, didn't like being around the Seven and especially not Homelander but if he had to decide between seeing Annie and not seeing Annie? He would visit Vought Tower every time, without a doubt.

Which is why he's here right now, standing in Annie's suite and making coffee for the two of them. Annie had left a while ago because of some impromptu meeting she had to attend but she had promised him she would try to make it quick at least.

Hughie felt weird being alone in here, the suite feeling oppressively empty without Annie being in it. Still, he told her he would be fine, that he would just wait for her here and he would. Of course he would.

And at first everything really was fine. He played a few games on his phone, texted his friends to see how they were doing and then he promptly decided to make coffee for them. Not long after that though, things started being kess fine.

Hughie immediately knew something was wrong when he heard the door to the room open without hearing Annie call out to him. Annie always did when she couldn't see him, even if there were people with her. His suspicions were proven right when he turned around only to be greeted by Homelander.

"Fancy seeing you here Hughie." The supe said, staring right into Hughie's eyes as he did. Hughie swallowed before taking a deep breath, he didn't want the supe to feel the way his breathing sped up but if he interpreted the stupid smile on his face correctly then he already did.

Hughie didn't react, he didn't know what to say and he really didn't want to talk to Homelander in the first place. The supe didn't seem to care though, instead, he just came closer and Hughie really had to fight with himself not to back up further against the counter.

Homelander didn't stop creeping closer until he stood right in front of Hughie, basically forcing Hughie to press himself against the counter. The supe had a somewhat contemplative look on his face as he stood in front of Hughie and Hughie couldn't help but feel weird.

Hughie could feel his heart speed up and the way his hands started to tremble ever so slightly as he tried to make himself seem brave but he knew Homelander knew about him being scared. The smirk on the supe's face gave it away.

"Don't be scared Hughie, I'm not going to hurt you." Homelander said then and the almost soft way he said the words made Hughie even more uneasy than he already was.

When Homelander didn't say anything else Hughie took a deep breath before he tried to shimmy away from him but a firm grip on his arm stopped his movements as soon as they started.

Still, Hughie didn't want to just stay there so he grabbed Homelander's arm that kept him in place and opened his mouth to tell the supe to fuck off but the sudden red glow of Homelander's eyes made Hughie reconsider.

The grim look Homelander had on his face as his eyes glowed vanished as soon as Hughie dropped his arm back toward his side and the supe said,

"That's better."

Hughie could feel Homelander's breath ghosting over his face as he spoke, mingling with his own as Hughie stared into piercing blue eyes. This was weird and uncomfortable and really fucking scary but Hughie couldn't move, couldn't speak. He didn't know what the supe was planning.

He could try and run, of course, but he knew Homelander was faster than him and he really didn't want to get lasered in half. The supe might have said he wouldn't hurt him but-

Hughie's thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly felt a gloved hand on his crotch and he was barely able to suppress the surprised groan that threatened to escape. Hughie felt himself flush and his heart sped up further as he desperately tried to calm himself down.

The hand on his crotch tightened ever so slightly as he did and Hughie wasn't quite able to suppress the groan that made its way up his throat this time. He could see the pleased smile on Homelander's face at the noise and Hughie was really starting to feel sick.

"What do you think Starlight would think of this? Her pretty little boyfriend getting turned on by being groped." Homelander was so close to him now, the words almost spoken into Hughie's lips and Hughie was basically praying that Annie would come back soon.

"I'm not-." Hughie started, trying to set this right at least, but Homelander pressed his lips onto Hughie's before he could finish. Hughie wanted to push the supe away, he really did, but he couldn't. His body just froze completely at the contact and he couldn't really do anything anyway could he?

The supe was way too strong for Hughie to do anything and even if he tried, the supe had already threatened him with bodily harm.

Hughie could feel Homelander's lips move while the hand on his crotch started massaging his growing erection but Hughie stayed as still as a statue. The only thing that reacted to the supe's ministrations was his cock.

He really hated himself for the way his body responded, he hated himself almost as much as he hated Homelander for doing this in the first place.

"You are, I can hear your heartbeat. It's elevated. That's not the only thing that's elevated either." Homelander said after he finally broke the kiss, his face still too close to Hughie's and Hughie was already gearing up to tell him off, to tell him he wasn't aroused but fucking scared but he didn't.

The door to the suite opened before he could muster up the courage and he was never happier to hear Annie's beautiful voice call his name. Homelander rolled his eyes when he noticed Hughie's relief before he straightened up and took a step away from Hughie, his eyes never leaving him.

Hughie's shoulders slumped in relief and the fear he had felt only seconds prior left him almost completely when he saw Annie come into the kitchen.

"What the hell is going on." Annie demanded then, her voice taking on a dark tone while her eyes glowed golden ever so slightly. Hughie could see her eyes jump between him and Homelander and he knew Annie was aware Homelander had done something.

"Nothing. We were just talking, right Hughie?" Homelander answered, his eyes never leaving Hughie's face even after he had turned toward Annie. The smirk on his face was so fake it could have been painted on.

"Yeah, we- we just talked." Hughie agreed even though he knew Annie wouldn't believe it, even though he knew he would tell Annie what really happened the second they weren't at the tower anymore. Homelander nodded at his answer, seemingly satisfied enough, before he left without saying another word.

Hughie felt himself start to shake as soon as he heard the door to Annie's suite fall closed, the what ifs and the whys flooding his head like a monstrous wave. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even see Annie move toward him before she captured him in a strong hug. Hughie startled a little, not having expected it but in the end, he just hugged back.

He was already thinking about how to tell her, if he even wanted to but he knew he had to. Hughie didn't want to but he promised himself he would.

Later though, for now, he just wanted to hug his girlfriend.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 25 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 25: nightmares/"why didn't you save me"

Dean woke up with a start, his hand immediately gripping the pistol that was cold underneath his pillow. His heart was beating quicker than it should and he knew that his pulse was elevated but still, he didn't move at first, he just sat on his bed, gun in hand.

He stayed like that for a second, trying to figure out what woke him up so suddenly, what caused him to feel so damn uneasy before he heard it again; his little brother was screaming.

Almost frantically Dean jumped out of bed, stumbling in the process, before he ran toward the noise with his gun raised and ready to fire. He could feel his heart beat quicker the closer he got to his brother's room and he already went through all the things that he might find.

Did someone break into the bunker and go after Sammy? Or did Gadreel come back to try and get back into his brother? When he ripped open Sam's door he stopped though because Sam was alone, his blanket bundled together at his feet and his body in one piece.

Dean's shoulders sagged in relief and he put away the gun before he moved closer to his brother, intending to check on him anyway. He was already here so why not?

He almost forgot why he entered the room, to begin with before he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Sam scream once again. Dean immediately put a hand on Sam's shoulder, intending to wake him up as soon as possible but the touch only seemed to agitate Sam further.

The second Dean's hand made contact with Sam's shoulder his brother started screaming in what Dean realized was Enochian. Dean paled when he recognised some of the words, help and no and stop.

He swallowed and let go of Sam's shoulder for a second, hoping the loss of contact would calm Sam down but it didn't. Dean really didn't know what to do now, it's been years since Sam last had a nightmare this bad, years since he yelled out in Enochian and years since Dean needed to wake him up from a nightmare like this.

Sam should be fine, he hadn't seen Lucifer in years, hadn't had anything happen to him that-

Gadreel.

Dean's eyes widened at the realization and the knowledge that he did this felt like a gut punch to Dean but he decided to shelf that for later; the only important thing right now was to wake up Sammy.

So with a little more force he put his hand back on Sam's shoulder, shaking it so hard Sam's whole body moved along but his brother didn't wake up, he just continued mumbling the same few words over and over again.

Minutes went by like that, with Dean shaking his brother while desperately hoping he would wake up, before Sam's eyes finally snapped open, revealing unseeing hazel eyes that completely ignored Dean, instead going straight for the open door and staying there.

Dean still had a hand on his brother, tightening his grip ever so slightly as a silent show of support and he could feel Sam trembling as he continued to stare at the open door.

"You're alright Sammy, it's just me alright? Just me." Dean spoke, keeping his voice calm and soft even with the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins. He didn't even know what Sam was thinking right now, if he recognised Dean or even heard him but he had to try, right?

Sam didn't react to his words and he didn't react to Dean's hand on his shoulder, he just stared at the door with blank eyes; he stayed completely still too.

Dean could see silent tears run down Sam's face, could see the way he was clenching his jaw and the way Sam's lip trembled as if he was about to cry and Dean could feel his throat tighten ever so slightly.

Dean continued talking to Sam, tried to snap him out of it but Sam stayed sitting like that for at least ten more minutes until he finally seemed to regain his senses.

"Dean?" Sam's voice sounded hoarse and overused but the fact alone that Sam was talking had Dean so relieved he could have hugged him.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean responded, keeping his voice low and cautious as he looked at his little brother. Sam looked sad, his lips downcast and his eyes filled with tears and Dean really wanted Sam to get mad at him right now. Mad that he let him get possessed, mad that he was a dick about it or just mad that he burst into Sam's room. That would be so much better than seeing Sam like he was right now.

"Why did you save me?" The question was quiet, almost incomprehensible and at first Dean misunderstood; heard 'why didn't you save me' instead and the guilt had already consumed him halfway before his brain finally caught up.

"What?" He asked, confusion so clear that it startled even himself. Dean tightened the grip on Sam's shoulder as his brother looked down, his hair falling in front of his face, effectively hiding it in the process.

"Why couldn't you just let me go?" The question was equally as quiet but this time he didn't sound sad, instead he sounded resigned, almost neutral and Dean wasn't sure if he liked that more than the previous sadness clouding Sam's voice. Sam didn't even sound like he wanted an answer, it seemed like he just asked because he could.

"Sammy-." Dean started, an almost endless amount of reasons coming to mind but before he could voice even one of them Sam turned toward him with big sad eyes, effectively muting Dean as he did.

"Can you leave? I want to sleep." Sam mumbled then, as if he already knew what Dean was going to say before he looked back down.

Dean didn't want to go, didn't want to leave his brother after he asked these questions but he knew he would just make it worse if he stayed. So, reluctantly he let go of Sam's shoulder and turned around, hoping Sam would call him back before he left the room.

When he closed the door to his own bedroom however he knew that wouldn't happen.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 24 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 24: hunted down/too exhausted to keep running/failed escape

Hughie's heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted through the dimly lit streets; he knew Noir was still behind him, still pursuing him and he also knew that the supe would catch up to him any second now.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins had fueled his escape and had helped him sprint away from Noir after the supe had forced him to a second location. But after endless minutes of running his legs started turning to jelly, and his lungs burned with each gasping breath.

The darkness seemed to conspire against him, as the garbage that was littering the floor threatened to send him tumbling to the pavement. He was aware that his strength was waning, and he couldn't keep up this pace much longer; he was surprised he was able to run as long as he already had.

Every step became an agonizing struggle, his legs trembling more and more with each step. Hughie could feel the sweat drenching his brow and running down his temple while his vision started to narrow.

His heart rate was a thunderous drumbeat in his ears, drowning out the world around him. The fear that had driven him to run was now morphing into a paralyzing dread of being caught.

As he rounded a corner, the sea of buildings gave way to a dark parking lot, only illuminated by some dim and flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the pavement. Hughie wanted to keep running, to maybe hide behind or in one of the cars but Hughie's legs refused to carry him any farther.

He stumbled a few times before his legs gave up on him and he fell to the ground, gasping for air. His muscles ached, and he had nothing left to give, still, he tried to get up once again, to keep moving. His legs didn't work though.

In the distance, the sound of Noir's footsteps grew closer, and the terror of being caught tightened its grip. He knew Noir would get him eventually, that the supe was probably just playing with him, but he still felt utterly defeated.

Just for a second, right when he started running, he had hoped Noir would lose him or that one of his friends would find him before Noir caught up to him. He knew now that that hope was misplaced, stupid even.

That thought cemented itself when Noir gripped his collar and heaved him up until they were face to helmet. Hughie just hoped Noir would kill him after he tortured him for information, he really didn't want to have to deal with Homelander.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 23 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 23: nervous breakdown

The house was empty when he entered but then again; it always was. Usually, it didn't bother him, not too much anyway. It started being a bit creepy after he found out about the Demogorgon but you can get used to everything can't you?

This time however it did bother him, the emptiness and the therefore ever present silence that engulfed the house and him with it. He stayed in the doorway for a while, the front door open and letting just the smallest amount of street light into the otherwise dark house.

Steve just stayed there and stared at the shadows in his house, trying to ignore the anxiety that was starting to claw its way up his throat. He took a deep breath before he stepped further into the house, closing the door behind him before he leaned against it.

The complete silence turned more and more agonizing the longer he stood there and the darkness just seemed to amplify it but he couldn't get himself to turn on the lights. He wasn't sure why but he just didn't want to, he couldn't bring himself to move either.

So he continued to lean against the door while he felt the walls of his house closing in around him. He carded a hand through his hair when he did and took a deep breath to get himself to calm down but it didn't seem to work this time.

Instead, the world seemed to start spinning, and his heartbeat thundered in his chest while his body started to shake. Steve clenched his fists, the anxiety welling up inside him threatening to overflow and he really didn't want to deal with that now.

He started sliding down the door then, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, and he could feel the sweat forming on his forehead. The shaking in his body didn't stop either on the contrary it just seemed to get worse with each passing second.

Steve's mind raced as he sat cross-legged on the floor, and a torrent of negative thoughts flooded his consciousness. Would they come back for him? He did see their faces and he did know more than he should, so it would only make sense wouldn't it? Would they come for his friends? For Dustin?

Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he tried to stop himself from thinking more about this; he got out and he was fine, wasn't he? Other people weren't so lucky. He just got a beating, something he should be used to right now so why was he acting like this?

His body started convulsing with sobbs then and Steve couldn't manage to reign them in, couldn't keep track of his breathing. He just sat there crying into his hands and he could feel his tears mix with the dried blood under his nose.

When he was finally able to calm himself down he wiped away the tears, cringing when he irritated the black eye that had already swollen so much he could barely see, and stood up. His legs shook as he walked over to the couch in his living room and they continued shaking when he lay down.

He lay there for a while, just staring at the front door and thinking about his best course of action if someone were to break in. He would jump off the couch and book it out of the back door he decided as his eyes slipped shut and he drifted off to unconsciousness.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 22 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 22: punishment/nerve damage

Hughie immediately knew something was wrong, knew it the second he stepped into his apartment. He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt scared, it was just something in the air telling him to leave, to get out but Hughie didn't listen. He was just paranoid, having been on the run for months would do that to someone after all.

So he shrugged and walked further into his apartment, closing the door behind him before he removed his jacket, throwing it over his couch as he made his way into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water.

Right as he started filling his glass, the water the only sound echoing through the silent apartment, he heard something else. He heard steps, coming toward him slowly but with purpose.

Hughie's stomach churned as he turned around but he didn't see anything, he didn't hear the steps either. He shut the water off quickly as he scanned his apartment, trying to see if anything had changed.

There was nothing amiss, the only thing that caught Hughie's eye was the window that was still standing wide open. Did he leave it open this morning? Did Annie? He shook his head before he walked over quickly and closed it, pulling the curtains closed right after.

He turned back around then only to jump out of his skin when he saw a dark figure standing at his front door. Hughie could feel his heartbeat speed up as he tried to make out some features, hoping to be able to identify the person who had broken into his apartment.

As the figure crept closer however, Hughie swallowed and his mouth turned dry; he would recognize that stupid suit anywhere.

"Now why did it take you so long to realize I was here? You really aren't perceptive at all are you?" Homelander said, breaking the silence with his mocking voice. Hughie didn't respond, he didn't know what to say; the supe was right, it did take him way too long to realize he wasn't alone.

"What do you want?" Hughie said after a while, his eyes never leaving the supe that started walking around his apartment, touching everything he could get his hands on.

"Did you really think I would just let your little display of power go? Can't let you think you have any, can I?" Homelander answered and Hughie frowned, he had no idea what the supe was talking about.

Homelander seemed to realize that as well, his plastered-on smile faltering just a tad before he stopped, a framed picture of Hughie and his dad in his hand.

Hughie moved away from the window as Homelander stood there, trying to reach the counter where he had placed his phone earlier but Homelander was faster. The supe grabbed Hughie's phone and threw it away while his other hand pressed Hughie against the counter. Hughie could hear a distant thid as he stared at Homelander who was now right in front of him.

Hughie could feel his heart in his throat, he could feel beads of sweat running down his temple and the way his body started to shake as Homelander stared at him. He should have left, maybe went to a bar or something.

"I thought about this you know? About a punishment that wouldn't leave you dead because I did tell little Starlight I wouldn't kill you." Homelander said quietly, almost too quiet for Hughie to understand. The words caused a weird mix of relief and terror to manifest inside Hughie's brain.

"She never said anything about maiming though." He continued with a sick smile on his face before his eyes roamed over Hughie.

Hughie felt sick to his stomach as soon as the words registered and he tried to move out of Homelander's grasp but it was useless, the supe just tightened his grip on Hughie's arm.

"Don't-" Hughie started but the fierce glare he got in response made him shut his mouth real quick. Not even a minute later Hughie could see an excited smile forming on Homelander's face and the dread that pooled in his stomach at the sight almost overwhelmed him.

"You know you have a really pretty face for a guy. How about we change that?" Homelander said, the excitement in his voice matching the smile still on his face. Hughie didn't even get time to process the words before he saw Homelander's eyes light up, the bright red hue illuminating the otherwise dark apartment.

Without thinking Hughie moved his arm, effectively slapping it over Homelander's eyes and preventing the lasers from reaching his face. The pain was instantly excruciating and Hughie started screaming the second it registered in his brain.

Homelander didn't react though, he kept the lasers going until the smell of burning flesh wafted through the whole apartment, making Hughie feel even sicker than he had before.

The supe let go of Hughie right after his eyes stopped glowing and Hughie immediately sank to the floor, cradling his burned arm to his chest in a futile attempt to regulate the pain.

"I should punish you for that too Hughie but you're lucky that I'm in a good mood today." Homelander said before he left, leaving Hughie sobbing on the kitchen floor with his arm burned so badly Hughie was surprised it was still recognizable.

He felt like throwing up as he looked at his arm, the flesh charred and oozing blood. He could see the places were his suit had melted into his skin and he thought about pulling it out for a second before he changed his mind. He wouldn't touch his arm, not while he was still trembling like a leaf.

Hughie stayed on the kitchen floor, his body shaking and his arm throbbing in pain, until he heard his phone ring. He jumped at the noise and his eyes snapped in the direction it was coming from before he slowly forced himself to get up.

His legs wobbled as he made his way toward the noise and he had to take a few deep breaths to be able to keep going. He finally spotted his phone at the other end of the room, a large crack going right through the middle of the screen.

He took a shuddering breath and tried to stop the tears from flowing as he watched his phone ring, seeing a picture of Annie illuminated on the screen. He didn't want to pick up, didn't want Annie to worry, especially considering she shouldn't just leave the tower and she would certainly try if Hughie told her what had happened.

So with spots forming at the edges of his vision, he waited for the call to go to voicemail before he called an ambulance, intending to call Annie back as soon as he knew how bad the injury on his arm was.

Annie wasn't happy with his decision and she let him know as soon as she saw him, reprimanding him for being an idiot as she pulled him into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry Hughie." She whispered into his chest after she called him an idiot for the thrid time. Hughie just hugged her back as tightly as he could, reveling in the comfort the embrace brought him.

They stayed like that for a while, just taking comfort in each others presence, until the doctor came in to tell him how bad his arm was doing; the injury was very bad as it turned out and Hughie was lucky he was able to keep his arm at all.

The burns had apparently fried the nerve endings in his arm severely and even now, three weeks later, his arm was numb. Sometimes at least, most of the time he could feel a tingling that would interchange with a burning sensation every now and then.

He still hoped it would get better, that he would be able to use his arm again after a while but he knew the chances that were almost zero. At least it wasn't his right arm that got fried though, he wouldn't have wanted to learn how to write again.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 21 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 21: mouth stitched shut/shock

Tw: rape

Hughie didn't know how long he had been here already, how long ago Homelander had waited for him at his dad's place. Hughie had been shocked then, terrified even, but he didn't think the supe came for anything other than intimidating him.

And that's how it started out, Homelander was asking Hughie questions about Butcher, about their plans, and about the things they already knew. Hughie stayed silent of course, his heart hammering in his chest like it was trying to jump out. He thought about lying at first, about talking to the supe like Butcher would have but he knew he didn't have it in him so he kept quiet instead.

Every unanswered question seemed to make Homelander angrier and angrier but the supe didn't touch him, didn't even come close he just stared at Hughie; somehow that was worse, the uncertainty of what might happen, of what the supe was thinking.

After only ten minutes of getting yelled at Homelander took off, leaving Hughie behind. And honestly? Hughie didn't know what to think of that encounter, didn't know what the fuck just happened. He, of course, called Butcher as soon as Homelander left, telling him about everything Homelander had asked and about how he hadn't told him anything.

In hindsight, he should have known that that wouldn't be it, that Homelander wouldn't give up that quickly. Barely a minute after Homelander left, Hughie was still talking to Butcher, the supe came back, looking angrier than Hughie had ever seen him before.

The supe said nothing as he stalked toward Hughie and grabbed him by the throat, the only noises in the apartment coming from Hughie's phone falling to the ground and Hughie's choked noises of surprise.

Hughie passed out not long after that, only to wake back up in a room that had nothing except a bed with a massive headache and a sore throat. So yeah he didn't know how long he's been here for, how long ago Homelander had waited for him but he knew one thing for sure; Hughie was fucked.

He glanced around the room, eyes wide and body trembling, trying to see anything he might be able to use for a quick escape but there really was nothing except the bed he was still sitting on.

He tried to get up then, maybe walk around the room to find something useful, but a chain around his ankle hidden underneath the blanket haphazardly thrown over his legs made that impossible.

Hughie truly started to panic then, his breathing becoming shallow and the trembling turning into full-on tremors coursing through his body.

He tried to even his breathing, tried to calm himself down at least until he could think clearly again but the door to the room clicking open made that increasingly harder.

His eyes snapped to the door upon hearing it open and his heart pounded even harder in his chest when he saw Homelander step into the room. The supe looked almost bored when he entered the room, his cold eyes looking at Hughie like he was just an obstacle between him and his goal. Hughie probably was.

"I thought a change in scenery might make you talk." Homelander said not long after he locked the door behind him, a mean smirk on his face.

Hughie didn't answer verbally, he just shook his head; he knew his voice wouldn't work the way he wanted it to and the silence seemed to agitate Homelander almost more than his words could have.

Homelander's jaw ticked and he walked toward Hughie taking his face in his hand and squeezing until Hughie was sure his jaw would break between Homelander's fingers.

"Answer when I ask you a fucking question." Homelander spat, his eyes wide with anger and his fingers tightening just a tad more. Hughie could feel his heart in his throat and the trembling didn't let up either but still he said,

"I'm not telling you anything." He tried to put as much confidence into his words as possible, tried to shake off the anxiety building up inside of him and for just a second it actually worked. His words sounded almost angry and Hughie couldn't help but feel proud of himself for it.

"You're going to regret that." Homelander mumbled then, the words spoken with so much venom Hughie felt like he'd been poisoned, before the supe turned and rushed out of the room.

Hughie felt relief when the door slammed shut before the anxiety came back, crashing into him the same way Homelander's hand had crashed against his throat earlier.

But, Butcher knew Homelander took him, he must have heard Homelander slam Hughie against the wall, so Hughie wouldn't be here long, Butcher and the others would come and save him. Hughie just had to stay strong for a bit, he had to keep going until they found him and he could totally do that.

He kept repeating that in his head, kept repeating that his friends would come for him until the door swung open again interrupting his thoughts in the process. Homelander moved inside quicker this time, like he had a mission, and Hughie couldn't help but move away from the supe.

Homelander stopped for a second before he laughed to himself looking at Hughie like he was stupid for even trying and honestly? Hughie did feel stupid.

"Where do you think you're going?" Homelander asked then, mocking laughter in his voice. Hughie stayed silent, looking at the supe with wide eyes, and watched as Homelander stepped closer once again.

"I'm going to give you one more chance to talk, after that? Forget it." Hughie looked at Homelander, seeing the way his eyes were almost blazing with triumph; the supe obviously thought he could scare Hughie into talking, into giving up his friends.

The worst thing was that Hughie thought about doing it, about telling him what he wanted to know. He thought about it only for a second, a second too long in Hughie's opinion, before he discarded the thought again. He could never do that to his friends even if it meant Homelander would hurt him.

With a deep breath, Hughie looked into Homelander's eyes and shook his head. He could see the exact moment the action registered in Homelander's brain, could see the fury building behind his eyes before a smile broke out on the supe's face.

"I hoped you would do that, Hughie. Makes you so much more interesting." Homelander said then before he left once again and Hughie knew he fucked up, knew he should have told him something even if it wasn't the truth.

Hughie continued berating himself until the door opened and Homelander stepped inside once again, a small black case in his hand.

Hughie opened his mouth to say something, to tell him he had changed his mind but Homelander shushed him before a single noise escaped his throat. Homelander opened the case then and Hughie watched in confusion as he pulled out a needle and some black thread.

He didn't know what Homelander was planning, not until Homelander walked up to him at least, needle still in hand and his eyes focused on Hughie's mouth.

"Wait! Wait I'll-" Hughie started, panic rising in his chest while his blood left his face. He tried to move away again, backed away until his back hit the wall, the chains were rustling with his movement and the sound seemed almost deafening in the otherwise quiet room.

"Don't talk now, I thought you weren't telling me anything." Homelander interrupted him, sounding amused and excited at the same time. The supe grabbed Hughie's face again, pressing his lips together before he placed the needle under Hughie's bottom lip.

Hughie grabbed Homelander's arm, trying to move it away but the supe didn't budge, he just chuckled before he pushed the needle through Hughie's lips.

Hughie moaned in pain behind Homelander's hand, his vision whitening for a second while Homelander pulled the thread through the sensitive skin.

He didn't even get a minute to acclimate himself to the pain before the needle went through his lips for a second time, then a third, and then a fourth until Hughie's mouth was held shut not by Homelander's hand but by the black thread the supe had brought.

Hughie could feel the blood mixing with his tears and running down toward his neck, ruining his Billy Joel shirt; he caught himself thinking that he should have worn something else, that his shirt was ruined now but he couldn't keep that train of thought for long. The pain in his face was agonizing and the shaking wouldn't stop and he couldn't breathe properly and-

"Don't you paint a pretty picture?" Homelander said suddenly; was it sudden? Hughie just stared at him, unmoving and unable to say anything. He didn't even react when Homelander stepped closer once again after having discarded the needle somewhere.

"You look good coated in blood, anyone ever tell you that?" The words were mumbled and Hughie could see Homelander's eyes roam over his body while he said them. Hughie felt the dread already nestled in his stomach spread through his body as Homelander grabbed his shirt, ripping it off without a single word.

Hughie shuddered when he was exposed to the cold air, goosebumps rising along his arms and chest. The blood dripping on his now bare chest made him tense with each drop and the way Homelander's eyes moved along with the blood made Hughie almost shudder once again.

"Let's see how much it takes for you to rip your stitches." That was the only warning Hughie got before his pants and boxers were ripped off him in one clean movement and the dread in his body engulfed him completely.

Hughie struggled then, trying to get Homelander's hands off him, he even tried to scream at him before he shut his mouth with a click; the pain was too much already and he really didn't want to pass out now.

Homelander barely reacted to Hughie's movements though, he just grabbed one of his thighs in an iron grip until Hughie stopped moving, afraid the supe would break a bone if he didn't.

"Maybe I'll just keep you here, train you until you're perfect. You're pretty enough." Homelander was mumbling to himself, words so quiet Hughie might have missed them if the room wasn't eerily quiet otherwise.

Hughie could see Homelander's eyes roam over his body before they stopped on his face, on his mouth to be precise and Hughie was almost scared Homelander might kiss him. As if that was the worst thing that could happen here.

Homelander reached for his mouth then and Hughie barely suppressed a pained whine as the supe coated his fingers with Hughie's blood until the already read gloves took on a darker shade.

The hand holding Hughie's thigh moved away while Homelander's other hand was still on Hughie's mouth, on his neck, on his chest. Hughie could see Homelander pulling out his dick not long after, and to Hughie's horror, the supe was already hard.

Hughie wasn't sure how long the supe had been hard for, he wasn't sure if Hughie's pained noises or the act of sewing his mouth shut did it for him but Hughie knew neither of these options were good. Not for him at least.

Homelander closed his eyes for a second then and Hughie just tried to level his breathing, tried to calm himself down but the panic was still coursing through his veins like oxygen.

Homelander's hand moved out of Hughie's face not long after before he gripped his own dick coating it with Hughie's blood. Hughie almost threw up when he saw it, bile rising in his throat at the pleasured moan coming from the supe but Hughie swallowed it down the same way he swallowed a sob when he thought about what would happen next.

Hughie thought about struggling again when he felt the tip of Homelander's dick at his entrance but before he could even try Homelander slammed inside of him in one fluid movement. The pain was excruciating, definitely worse than the stitching had been and Hughie had to gather every ounce of willpower not to scream, to not rip the stitches.

"You're tougher than you look, Hughie." Homelander said then, sounding the faintest bit winded before he pulled out almost completely just to slam into Hughie with more force than before.

Hughie felt the pain everywhere, in his back, in his hands, and in his teeth. His whole body shook with each thrust of Homelander's hips and the fresh tears running down his face burned as they met the punctures in his lips.

Hughie tried to think of something else, he tried to think about Annie, about Butcher and his friends but every time his mind let him drift off Homelander would slam him right back into the present.

Homelander's hands moved to Hughie's hips then, grabbing him so tight Hughie could feel his bones grinding against the supe's hands and for a second Hughie really thought Homelander aimed to break them.

"Fucking hell Hughie you're so tight, maybe I'll really keep you with me. Doing this every day sounds like a dream come true don't you think?" Homelander said then and Hughie really wished he would just shut the fuck up and get this over with.

Hughie could feel Homelander's hips stutter and saw the supes eyes fall closed not long after that, surprised his wish was coming true so quickly. He was almost relieved before Homelander changed his angle slightly, making it more painful for Hughie but obviously more pleasurable for the supe.

Homelander's last few thrusts were even more brutal than the rest had been and Hughie almost screamed when he felt one of his hipbones snap beneath Homelander's hand. He forced his jaw shut though, his teeth grinding together as his vision whitened once again.

Hughie noticed his hearing fading away as the sharp pain ripped through him and the breath in his lungs stopped for a second as he tried to get used to the pain.

He barely felt Homelander slipping out of him, barely noticed Homelander putting his dick away. He barely even heard it when Homelander said,

"You barely ripped your stitches, I'm impressed." The supe didn't sound impressed at all, he sounded condescending and disappointed but Hughie didn't react, didn't even look at the supe as he left, black case in hand and a smile on his face.

Hughie stayed like that for quite some time, just staring at the ceiling with tears running down his face while his body shivered and shook. He could feel something leaking out of his ass but Hughie didn't want to know what it was, he really didn't.

He could feel sobs making their way up his throat again but he had to swallow them back down, he couldn't risk the stitches in his mouth and he didn't want to move in any way, his body hurt too much for that.

The only reason he moved at all was to move the blanket over himself, he didn't want his friends to see him like that when they came for him. And they would come, they just needed more time than Hughie thought is all.

Hughie didn't really register the next few times Homelander visited him, and he didn't react to anything he did either; his only mission was for his stitches to stay put while his eyes stayed glued to the ceiling.

He didn't register or even think about how much time went by even if Homelander always told him how long it's been when he entered the room. He just chose to forget that it's been three, four, five, six-

Hughie didn't really register when it wasn't Homelander that entered one day, he only knew that the hands on him were too gentle to be Homelander's, the hair too dark and too long, that the voice was too gruff and the skin too dark but he couldn't focus long enough to realize any of that.

He didn't realize it when he got moved out of the room either, didn't realize it when he was suddenly wearing a loose shirt with pineapples on it and sweatpants that were too wide but too short.

He did realize however when he woke up in another room than he was used to, the walls too dirty and not bloody enough, the bed not a bed but a mattress lying on the floor, and the lamp above him a warm yellow instead of the clinical white he was used to.

He sat up slowly, careful not to agitate his injuries any further. His body protested with the movement but Hughie didn't want to stay lying down this time, the change in scenery making it hard for Hughie to stay as passive as he did before.

Hughie jumped when the door of the room opened suddenly and he moved back against the wall on instinct, not registering that the chain on his ankle didn't make any noise this time.

Hughie stared at the person in front of him with wide unseeing eyes for a second before something in his brain clicked. He was wearing clothes and the chain around his ankle was quiet. Hughie moved his ankle around again then, his eyes snapping toward it when he didn't hear the usual sound of metal clinking or feel the telltale chill against his skin.

There was nothing there, nothing holding him in place and he could feel his eyes water when he moved a hand toward his face, trying to probe at the stitches that weren't there anymore.

"Don't touch your injuries Petite Hughie, it might get infected." The second Hughie recognized Frenchie's concerned voice he started crying, letting out the sobs he had to force down previously and he could feel his stomach convulse with the force of them.

He could feel Frenchie's arms around him not soon after and to his credit he barely flinched before he hugged Frenchie back, sobbing into his friend's neck while his hands clenched around his shirt.

They stayed like that for a while before Hughie heard the others enter the room, before he felt a few more hands on him, comforting him.

He barely even flinched when he did.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 20 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 20: mutilation

The chair was getting uncomfortable Sam decided after the cold water had finally been shut off. He could deal with the cold, he had dealt with it for over 200 years and the type of coldness coming from the showerhead above him couldn't even be compared to Lucifer's.

Still, he felt relief when the water stopped, just because he could deal with it didn't mean he wanted to deal with it. Bevell was still asking him about hunters in America as if the bit of cold water did anything but agitate him.

It certainly didn't make him want to talk, that's for sure. She seemed to realize that after a while of Sam just staring at her with a blank expression before her forced smile vanished and she left the room.

It didn't take long for her to come back, bringing her friend with her. Bevell quickly sat back down in front of him while her friend walked over to the table at his left, rummaging through the things on said table before she grabbed what she was looking for.

Sam barely glanced at the woman who was walking around him blowtorch in hand, his eyes just stayed glued to Bevell and he really hoped he was making her uncomfortable.

His eyes stayed on Bevell even when he saw the other woman lean down next to his leg and light the blowtorch, his eyes stayed on her until the flame made its first contact with his right foot.

The pain was agonizing, sending shockwaves through his whole body but it was nothing he wasn't used to, nothing he hadn't felt before. So with clenched teeth and a tense body, he looked back at Bevell, inwardly preening at the look of shock on her face.

He could feel the skin on his foot burn, he could smell it and the disgusting stench reminded him so much of the cage he almost choked. He knew he wasn't there anymore, the pain was different with him, sharper and deeper but the smell didn't sit right with him still.

The burning pain stopped then but Sam didn't cast his eyes downward he just kept staring at Bevell with slightly clouded eyes. She did look very uncomfortable now and the pain in his foot was almost worth it because of that.

"Continue." She said then and her voice sounded uncertain, she might have been scared even. Sam smirked a little before the burning traveled up his leg, engulfing his calf. He clenched his jaw and felt his teeth pressing against each other so hard he was scared they might chip but he didn't look away.

The pain was even worse than before, coursing through his whole body as if the fire itself was traveling with his bloodstream. The smell was worse though; it was so strong Sam could taste it.

He remembered how his flesh tasted on his tongue then, remembered forcing himself to swallow it down so the pain after wouldn't be as bad. He tried to shake himself out of the memory, tried to forget how his flesh felt when it settled in his stomach, and tried to ignore the way his stomach lurched when the smell got even stronger.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, grunting in pain when the blowtorch moved up his leg even further, burning away just below his knee. Breathing started hurting now, the fire around him making the air thick and-

Sam shook his head and looked back at Bevell, taking in the absence of flames and the way her body was still intact; she wasn't burning so he wasn't either. She looked a little triumphant though, her eyes sparkling with what Sam assumed to be victory.

He didn't care though, not when the blowtorch moved toward his inner thigh and up until he could feel the heat radiating toward his crotch. He could feel a small amount of fear then, fear of the pain they might inflict him with but he didn't show it.

He let his face remain as unaffected as he possibly could with the fire still licking away at him, his eyes still on Bevell.

They only relented when his leg was almost completely covered in burns, the smell of burning flesh thick in the air. His head was hanging now and his chest was heaving but he hadn't screamed, not once. He didn't tell them anything either.

He could hear them leave not long after that, the door slamming shut behind them. Relief bubbled up inside him before it was squashed by a wave of unrelenting nausea. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat on instinct; he wasn't allowed to throw it up.

The taste of flesh was still on his tongue, crawling down his throat and nestling in his stomach. He tried to breathe threw it, tried to remind himself where he was but the smell was so strong.

He barely heard the door open over the loud noise of blood rushing in his ears, barely felt calloused hands on his face that lifted his head until he was face to face with the devil wearing his brother's face.

He tried to move away, tried to get his hands off but Dean- Lucifer wasn't deterred.

"Come on Sammy you gotta work with me here." Lucifer said then, sounding so much like Dean it was almost painful to hear.

"No." Sam spat with as much confidence as he could muster before he glanced behind the devil, spotting a woman who looked exactly like his mother did.

Sam furrowed his brows in confusion before he glanced back at Lucifer who was still staring at him, worry etched deeply into his skin. His eyes were glassy too Sam realized and for just a second he let himself think this might be real but he knew it couldn't be.

"Screw you." Sam tacked on for good measure when the devil stayed silent but the expected look of fury didn't cross Lucifer's face, instead, he looked even more worried and Sam didn't know what to make of that.

"We're gonna get you out of here, yeah? We'll fix this." Lucifer whoever it was said with so much conviction that Sam believed him.

Sam let himself get hoisted up, barely flinching when his foot made contact with the ground. He let himself get carried to the Impala and the sight of that car made everything so much clearer.

He looked up at his brother then, studied the worried crease between his eyebrows and the way his jaw ticked every now and then. Sam let himself get pushed into the passenger seat of the Impala next, his rapid heartbeat slowing at the familiar rumble of the car while his eyes started to slowly fall shut.

He barely even tasted himself as he fell asleep.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 19 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 19: taken for granted

Steve knew he was just the babysitter, of course he did so it was stupid to feel like he did, like they owed him something.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a little bit mad, and couldn't help but feel a little sad as well. He had been there every time the kids or anyone else needed him and had risked his life for them more than once but no one seemed to notice or care.

Every time Steve came to help it was as if they had expected him to come running, to come help but if he asked them for anything they were always busy, always out or on their way to do something.

At first, Steve hadn't even noticed, hadn't noticed how they always brushed him off if he needed advice or help in any form. He didn't notice the way they wouldn't thank him for his help either, not until Robin pointed it out once after he drove Dustin to Mike's place and the kid just ran out of the car the second Steve slowed the car down enough.

Robin hadn't even really said much, she just said,

"He could've at least said thank you." She was chuckling as she said it and Steve laughed with her, waving her off. A second later she started talking about something that had happened in class but the sentence got stuck in Steve's head because yeah, he could have.

After that, Steve tried to pay more attention to the way Dustin talked to him, to the way everyone talked to him, and he noticed that no one really thanked him, no one really helped him either except for Robin that is. They always just expect him to help, to drop everything, and go with them until their problem is solved.

And for a while he did, he liked the feeling of being useful, liked feeling needed but after the nth time of being whisked away from something without so much as a thank you he had enough.

The realization struck him like a thunderbolt one night after dropping Max off at home, leaving Steve behind with nothing but a quick goodbye: he deserved better.

He deserved to be thanked and recognized for what he did for them. He didn't even want much, didn't want them to sing his praises or anything but a simple thank you or help if he needed it would be nice.

So he stopped going with them every time they asked, stopped driving them around on a whim, and stopped helping them with every little thing. If he was doing something he said no, if he didn't want to go he said no and if he remembered that they hadn't helped him the last time he needed help he said no.

He felt bad about it at first, like he was betraying them somehow and he almost backed down after he said no the first time. The incredulous look on Nancy's face when he told her he couldn't drive her to Jonathan's was almost too much for him already but he stood his ground. He stayed firm and said no again.

He continued to stand his ground every time after that when one of them expected him to do something for them without asking and after a while it wasn't so hard anymore. It helped that they stopped approaching him, and stopped expecting him at places.

It hurt at first and it still did when he saw them running around without so much as glancing at him but Steve knew he made the right choice for himself.

He couldn't let people walk all over him just because they expected him to, even if that meant he had only Robin left at the end.

[welikeclownsinthishouse]

Entry number 18 for @ailesswhumptober

Tw: mention of unspecified eating disorder

Day 18: vomiting

Hughie couldn't concentrate on the conversation going on around him, couldn't concentrate on anything except the bite of pasta slowly making its way down his throat and into his stomach.

He cast a glance down at his plate, eying the food that's left with barely concealed contempt while trying to blink away the tears that started collecting in his eyes three bites ago.

"You alright?" Came M.M.'s voice then, interrupting the staring contest Hughie had with the noodles in front of him. Hughie blinked before he looked at his friend, a fake smile plastered on his face as he said,

"Yeah just not that hungry." He chuckled softly, hoping the others would believe him and to his surprise, M.M. shrugged and went back to his conversation with Frenchie who seemingly believed Hughie as well.

Relief ran through him as he forced himself to take another bite, relief that was squashed the second his gaze landed on Butcher who looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a frown on his face.

Hughie just smiled at him, swallowing the food and trying not to cringe at the taste and consistency. He hated eating, hated feeling full and he hated being watched while forcing food down his throat.

He could already feel the food settling in his stomach and he hated himself for it, hated that he broke down, that he agreed to eat dinner with the others.

Butcher was still looking at him, judging him Hughie was sure about it. He continued eating though, occasionally commenting on the conversation still going on around him. He hoped talking would distract him from the almost cold pasta still on his plate, on his fork, between his teeth but it didn't.

He tried to eat quicker, forcing food down quickly usually helped him, let it seem like it wasn't as much as it really was but this time it didn't seem to work.

When he finally finished he almost let out a sigh of relief, the smile on his face when he realized his plate was empty the first real one since he sat down at the table half an hour ago.

He glanced around the table then and saw that the others were still eating, still talking, and having a good time. Even Butcher had started implementing himself in the conversation and stopped staring at Hughie in the process.

Hughie took a deep breath then, trying to ignore the tingling in the back of his neck and his jaw, trying to ignore the almost overwhelming desire to rush to the bathroom. He ate too much, he knew it and his body knew it too.

He didn't eat this much usually, ate just enough to make it through the day without fainting or feeling like complete shit. He usually didn't eat dinner with his friends though and they would have made weird comments about the amount of food he wanted.

So he let Frenchie put as much food on his plate as he thought was appropriate and Hughie thanked him with almost gritted teeth as he eyed the for him massive amount of food.

He regretted it now, he should have said no like he usually did but the way they had looked at him when they asked as if they were worried or disappointed in advance because they expected him to say no made it impossible for him. The way their faces lit up ever so slightly almost made the sick feeling in Hughie's stomach worth it.

After about ten more minutes of Hughie just sitting at the table he excused himself before he promptly got up and left, ignoring his friend's eyes on him as he quickly walked into the bathroom before locking the door behind him.

He already felt himself shake in anticipation, could already feel tears gathering on his waterline as he kneeled in front of the toilet. He could already feel the relief washing over him when he stuck his fingers in his throat until he felt himself retch because of it.

He didn't remove his fingers until his throat constricted and his stomach lurched, the pasta finally making its way back out. The tears in Hughie's eyes started running down his face while he threw up and his throat burned because of the stomach acid but the relief didn't vanish, if anything it just got stronger.

He retched a few more times, spitting out pieces of pasta that got stuck between his teeth while he wiped away the tears still running down his face.

He didn't know how long he sat there, how long it took for the feeling in his stomach to finally go away; he just knew he took too long, so long that Frenchie came knocking.

"Are you alright Petite Hughie?" He sounded concerned and Hughie hated it, hated that he worried his friend.

"I'm fine, I'll be right out." Hughie answered, his voice raspy and a bit breathy but it seemed to have been enough for Frenchie.

Still shaking Hughie got up, wincing at the way his knees ached before he flushed, getting rid of the thing that had him feel like shit.

He walked over to the sink then, splashing water in his face before he quickly brushed his teeth. His throat still hurt and his stomach still felt weird but at least he felt better than he had earlier, more content in a way.

With a last look in the mirror, he turned before swiftly leaving the bathroom and going back to his friends.

He felt weird when he reentered the room, the air seemed to be different, a little tense maybe but still Hughie went and ate down. He felt his friends stare at him as he did so but he didn't say anything, didn't look at anyone either, he just hoped they would leave it be. They didn't.

"What the hell were you doing in there, lad?" Butcher asked suddenly, his voice gruff like usual but there was something different about it, something Hughie couldn't quite place.

"I used the bathroom? What else would I be doing." Hughie answered, trying to aim for nonchalance but missing the mark by a long shot.

"Hughie, don't lie." Frenchie said then while M.M. nodded along and suddenly Hughie couldn't take it anymore. The staring, the weird feeling that was still sitting deep in his stomach, and the ever-growing desire to bolt out of the room became too much.

He felt the tears run down his face as his hands started to shake but he still didn't want to tell them so he just said,

"You know what I was doing." To his surprise, he sounded angry, not just at his friends for asking such a stupid question in the first place but at himself for getting caught. They wouldn't get it, they wouldn't understand the way Hughie did.

"You know you're plenty skinny right?" Butcher asked then and Hughie almost laughed at the statement if M.M. hadn't told Butcher to shut the fuck up almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

Screw that Hughie definitely started laughing, his shoulders shaking with it as much as they shook not long ago but for a different reason this time. The faces his friends made only seemed to spur him on, the tears running down his face now because of his laughter.

It took a while for Hughie to calm himself down, to not laugh at the incredulous faces his friends were making. Especially Butcher who looked like he broke Hughie with his sentence but Hughie already was broken, wasn't he?

"You think I wanna be skinny?" Hughie said then, looking at Butcher with laughter still in his voice.

"I don't I- I really don't." He continued, now glancing at the others as well and to his surprise, they all looked the same way Butcher did, worried and out of their depth.

"Why did you go throw up then? Are you sick?" M.M. asked then and Hughie almost laughed again. Why would they think Hughie wanted to be skinny before they thought he might be sick?

"Because of the way you looked at the pasta like it would jump up and eat you." Frenchie answered while Kimiko nodded along both looking plenty worried. Hughie was confused for a second before he realized he had asked his questions out loud without noticing and wasn't that weird?

"Oh." He said then and Butcher immediately fired back,

"Yeah 'Oh' now answer the question Hughie." He sounded a little angry then and Hughie wasn't sure if the anger came from worry or if the man really was pissed at him.

"Because I needed to okay? I just- I had to." Hughie exclaimed, surprised that he answered at all if he was being honest but he couldn't say it didn't feel at least somewhat good. He never talked about this before, he never really wanted to but still.

"What do you mean." M.M. asked then and Hughie frowned mulling over the words in his head. He didn't know what to say if he should say anything at all. What would they think of him if he told them the truth? Would they hate him? Would they think of him as weak?

"Please answer him Hughie." Frenchie said, translating the words Kimiko had signed to him, and Hughie couldn't help but feel a small amount of fondness, maybe even happiness about the fact that these people cared for him enough to ask, to want an answer.

"I don't like eating. I hate it. I hate the way it feels, I hate that I need to do it and I hate that I have to eat so much. Don't get me started on the feeling after, when- when you ate too much or- or enough and your stomach feels full or whatever it is and-"

Hughie took a deep breath, interrupting his rambling before he continued,

"I hate eating, I hate the feeling of having eaten and I wish I didn't have to do it at all. I haven't eaten this much in months maybe even years and I just couldn't deal with it alright? I couldn't, so I tried to get rid of the feeling but you interrupted me and now it's still there and I- I fucking hate it."

His whole monologue was practically dripping with contempt, none of it directed at his friends of course but they seemed to think so if the way they stared at him with- was it guilt? Maybe sadness?- whatever it was Hughie didn't like it.

"I'm not mad at you for- for asking me to eat with you or anything you know that right? No need to look like that." Hughie said then, waving at their faces and smiling softly to make his point.

The others stayed silent still and Hughie could already feel the anxiety creeping up his spine and nestling in his brain. He should have stayed quiet, shouldn't have said anything at all but he was never good at shutting the hell up.

"How long have you been dealing with this?" M.M. asked then and Hughie realized with a start that Butcher hadn't said anything in a while, he just stared at Hughie with a weird look on his face.

"I don't know? As long as I remember I guess but it's no big deal I can handle it." Hughie smiled again, trying to make M.M. and the others believe him, he didn't want them to start staring at him while he ate or worse, force him to eat.

"The fuck you can." Butcher spat suddenly and Hughie wished he had stayed silent, the exclamation not sitting right with him at all.

"You can't just not fucking eat Hughie, do you know how fucking dangerous that is? Especially with what we're doing?" Butcher continued anger so obvious Hughie almost drowned in it.

He should have known Butcher would kick him out over this, should have known he wouldn't be of use anymore if they found out he wasn't how he should be. He should have-

"So how are we gonna make this better?" Butcher continued suddenly and Hughie's brain short-circuited. Had Butcher just asked how to make it better? How to help? He couldn't have, could he?

"What?" Hughie asked, confused and convinced he misheard Butcher but Butcher just repeated the question with the same amount of fervor as before.

"I don't know? I never thought about that." Hughie mumbled in response, still not really believing what was going on but he could see his friends nod at his response before M.M. looked at him and said,

"Then we'll try a few things and see what sticks alright?" His voice was soft, as soft as Frenchie's and Kimiko's eyes on him. Even butcher looked softer than Hughie had ever seen him and for a second Hughie believed that there might be something that could help him.

It was a short second but it was a good one.