#1 year feeling thirst for Tom

[stonesylove]

Summary: Alessandra and Tom met on a casual night out in Berlin while he's filming the prequel of the hunger games, both of them are down for a little three month affair but what if they want a little bit more.

social media au

A night out in Berlin pt.2

Our first conversation

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

Alessandra woke up and as normal 22 year old, took her phone to check her social media after one of the best nights out she ever had, she remembered some parts of the night but the others felt like a distant memory; she opened up Instagram to see and she had a new verified follower, someone called “Tom Blyth” she knew a lot of Tom’s but not a single one was famous so when Alessandra touch his profile pic and went to his profile she got hit whit the memory of the tall man with a buzz cut, she couldn’t believe that she fooled around with an actor in a random club in a night out.

“GIULIANA COME HERE” she screamed calling her best friend to tell her the crazy news, Giuliana and Alessandra have been best friend since they were 3 years old, they met in a little ballet academy in Naples, both have dreamed of dancing around the world and they ended up living together in Berlin and dancing for Staatsballett; Alessandra heard the steps coming closer and then she saw her door being open by her friend.

“Girl it’s 8 am, stop screaming” Giuliana said, “shut up and listen to me, remember last night when I got lost from you guys?” Alessandra asked thrilled to tell the whole story, her friend nodded so she can continue with the story, “Well I ended up dancing and making out with this cute tall man and I guess at some point I had to tell him my ig because now he’s following me” she said.

“I don’t see what’s the issue here” Giuliana said with a confused look, “HES A FUCKING BRITISH ACTOR” Alessandra screamed excited while her best friend was in completely shock, “you need to post a thirst trap right now” Giuli said with a playful look in her face, “I’m going to follow him up first and maybe I’ll post it later, I don’t know this is fucking wild” Alessandra said while opening up Instagram again to follow Tom.

Alessandra kept her day going without stressing too much about the topic, she knew he must be busy working on Germany or maybe he’s traveling with some friends so she wouldn’t want to distract him with a text but maybe it was a good idea to post a little selfie on her stories just to taste the waters.

Alessandra Di Maggio posted a story

Alessandra was walking with her friends to her class while she posted a pic she took some days ago that she felt would be cute enough to draw his attention, she felt like a little girl waiting for her crush to give her some attention and that made her feel so stupid because Alessandra knew that an actor would never lay his eyes on her and all that happened was just a drunken mistake, she locked her phone deciding she wouldn’t check Instagram for the day, Alessandra just didn’t want to get all in her head and get distracted during what’s really important.

The class was a success, she felt tired but at the same time she knew she had to be the best to get to the point she wants to be; Alessandra picked up her belongings and the walked out of the door waiting for her best friend to catch her up.

“So, have you checked Instagram? Did he even liked the story? Did he answered?” Giuliana said while catching Alessandra outside of the dance studio, “I literally posted and blocked my phone, I haven’t check it out” she said while trying to sound uninterested, “WELL DO IT BITCH“ her friend said while rising her voice. Alessandra took her phone out of her bag, she saw that she had a couple notifications but nothing special so she opened up Instagram to see that he liked her story and he sent a message.

Tom Blyth sent you a message 

Tom Blyth

Good morning Alessa with 4 s

Alessandra couldn’t believe that he send her a message, it was crazy for her because they were a little too drunk and she thought he wouldn’t remember her and also the way she screamed her Instagram handle, “Giuli he messaged me” Alessandra said a little bit shocked because she thought it meant nothing for him, “REPLY RIGHT NOW” Giuliana screamed.

Alessandra Di Maggio

hi Tom boy, thought you forgot about me

She send the message and block her phone again, Alessandra couldn’t believe she was doing that, texting him was a crazy scenario in her head, that type of stuff never happen to people like her so she wouldn’t keep any high hopes. Alessandra and Giuliana decided to grab dinner outside because contrary to popular believe ballerinas usually ate a lot; when they arrived home Alessandra didn’t check her phone since she replied the message and she wasn’t ready to do that yet, so she went to the bathroom took a long shower, got ready for bed and still was too scared to check it out. Alessandra laid down in her bed, she thought about going to sleep without checking her phone but the curiosity was eating her alive, so she took her phone out and opened Instagram.

Tom Blyth sent you a message 

Tom Blyth 

I would never forget about you Ale 😂

How are you? You never told me you were ballerina!!

Alessandra Di Maggio

are you a millennial?? What’s up with that emoji 💀

well you never told me that you were an actor so we are even 

Tom Blyth 

Being a millennial is okay, I’m a proud millennial 

How old are you?

if you don’t mind me asking 

Alessandra Di Maggio

I’m 22 and you Tom boy?

gonna be honest I was stalking your profile and I want to say that I don’t agree about riding horses but I’m 100% down to ride the cowboy

Tom Blyth 

I’m 27, so you’re an iPad kid???

You gotta be a little bit more creative if that’s the way you flirt but you don’t look bad in those leotards and thighs 

Alessandra Di Maggio

so you’re a grandpa???

I had to make the joke Tom, it was funny to me 🙄🙄🙄

Tom Blyth 

What if we play 21 questions so we can make other type of jokes funny girl 

Alessandra Di Maggio

did you google that??

but sure 

were where you born?

Tom Blyth 

You’re way too funny 🙄🙄

I’m from Birmingham and you?

What’s your fav color?

Alessandra Di Maggio

I’m from Naples, best part of Italy 

such a deep question 

light blue and yours ?

Tom Blyth 

Like the color of my eyes?

Dark purple, I think so 

What’s up with the caption on your la post??

Alessandra Di Maggio

That counts as one of your questions

A little bit lighter than yours British boy

It’s from a song called “JESUS IN BERLIN”

Are you here for pleasure or for work?

Tom Blyth 

I’m working on a Movie, i’ll be here for three months 

Are you a professional ballerina or is just a hobbie?

Alessandra Di Maggio

let’s hope your big movie doesn’t make a chaos in the city 

I’m a professional ballet dancer

okay, now we’re getting into the deeper questions 

Tom Blyth 

I can go deeper if you want funny girl 😏

They talked until like three in the morning until Alessandra felt asleep, both of them couldn’t believe how the conversation was flowing like they known each other for a while also but of them have the same sense of humor so it’s makes everything a little bit easier to get to know each other, Alessandra wasn’t sure if all the dirty jokes were real and he wanted all that but she wouldn’t mind a three month affair with an English boy, at the end they might never see each other again.

Tom Blyth posted a story 

This is what her if ig looks like 

#tom blyth #tom blyth x you #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus imagine #coryo snow #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #tbosas #tomblythedit

[mazzystar24]

There are two types of obsession when it comes to fans of tbosas

1. The kind who’s just there to thirst over Tom blyth

2. The kind who wants to never shut up about every detail and symbolism and analyse everything

Both are valid🫡

While I am an avid enjoyer of pretty men I will admit I’m more the second because I’ve never been chill about anything ever but talking to my little sister who is the first just damaged me majorly cos I sound insane and no one can make you feel as judged as a 13 year old

Like I’m sat ranting about Lucy grays name and she’s just on her phone like okay😐🤳

#tbosas #tom blyth #snowbaird #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #tgh #the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds & snakes #my posts

[aethon-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 13 ❄️

@hprecfest daily prompts running through Dec 31. Goal is to find lesser-known or underrated works, even by well-known authors, to feature here.

*

Day 13: A Fic >100k Words

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 165k, WIP)

Summary: A decade after the final battle, a serial killer emerges, with a message that proclaims the Dark Lord has risen again. Harry is assigned to the case. Why I rec it for this prompt: Casefic is a very underrated genre for the Tomarrymort ship, and Asenora absolutely delivers in this case, with a richly layered and complex murder mystery, as well as the beautiful unfolding of a tenuous working relationship between Harry and Voldemort and all the steamy tension that builds up in between them.

if we were lovers by @reggieblk (E, 143k, WIP)

Summary: When Harry arrives at the most prestigious theatrical school in the country, he doesn't have many expectations. The most unexpected thing he encounters is Tom Riddle, and subsequently, falling in love with the only other person who deals with feelings as well as him. But maybe, just maybe, he and Tom will find out that not all love stories have to end in tragedy. Why I rec it for this prompt: The character work is so rich and detailed in this coming-of-age story in a modern AU setting. There's so much thought that went into all the character interactions here, and I love the way that @reggieblk cleverly weaves in elements from plays and uses the theatre backdrop to develop in such a lovely and fraught and realistic way how Harry and Tom end up falling for each other.

*

Running list of recs:

Day 1: Favorite under 5k | Such a Noble Villain Day 2: Comfort Fic | In Somno Veritas | Ouroboros Day 3: Podfic | a taste so good (i'd die for it) Day 4: Fic with Art | A Soulmate Like You Day 5: A Non-AO3 Fic | The Anti-Midas Day 6: Unreliable Narrator Fic | Anabiosis Day 7: A Canon-Compliant Fic | In Your Soul is Sealed a Pleasure Day 8: A Canon-Divergence Fic | Thirst Day 9: A Rare Pair Fic | dust in your pocket | A Breed Apart Day 10: A Fest Fic | In Your Image Day 11: A Dark Fic | As Portioned from a Whole Day 12: A WIP Rec | Lover's Spit | Revolution of Configured Stars Day 13: A Fic >100k Words | One Year In Every Ten | if we were lovers

#hprecfest2023 #tomarrymort #harrymort #tomarry #aethon recs #tomarrymort recs

[tom-whore-dleston]

Barbie and the 900 Followers

HOLY SHIZZZ!!! I'm freaking out in silence but I am just extremely thankful to have met so many amazing folks like y'all! I love you guys for real 🥹🫶🏽

Since the Barbie movie releases in almost a year, I thought I'd hype up the movie in advance with a Barbie themed sleepover. No sleepover is complete without our fave doll 😊 Plus, Simu is in it so I gotta give the husband my full support bahaha

*in Margot Robbie's Barbie voice* NOW WHO'S READY FOR SOME FUN????

In the Barbie world:

Starts: July 16 @ 9am (PST)

Ends: July 18 @ 11:59pm (PST)

You are welcome to send in asks before the sleepover starts, but I won’t start responding to them until the start time.

As always, please be 18+ to participate! If I do not see any indication of your age in your bio or you do not have any posts/reblogs, you will be blocked! No exceptions!!

You don’t have to be following me to participate. Everyone is welcome 😊

I disabled anon feature to avoid meanies and minors.

Please send one emoji per ask. You don’t have to worry about spamming my inbox, I will see everything 😉

I will not write/discuss anything revolving around non-con, underage, a/b/o, bathroom kinks, blood kinks (only exception is vampire AU if applicable), incest, step-cest, foot fetish, pregnancy/babies.

I only write for female reader inserts with no specific race/ethnicity, hair/eye/skin color, body type, etc.

I reserve the right to deny writing/discussing any other things that make me uncomfortable.

C'mon Barbie, let's go party!

Ken Loves Barbie 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 - Mutuals only! ask me who I ship you with and I will write a lil sumn on your relationship with them (will only ship with fictional hotties) 

Blonde Bimbo Girl 👱🏻‍♀️ - Writer followers! send me a fic that you wrote and I will give you a good ol’ tom-whore-dleston essay review

Life in plastic 👠 - Send me a hottie and a prompt from one of lists below and I'll write a quick fic (feel free to add AUs/tropes/etc. for some flavor)

fluff/smut/physical || angst 1 & 2

You're my doll 💄 - Let’s play an ask game (cym, fmk, wyr, etc). Feel free to spice it up to your liking 😉

Dress me up👗 - Send me any scenarios or concepts that you envision for any of my AUs (Teach Me Tonight, Honey Baby, The Avengers Sweethearts) and I will write a drabble or head canon for them

Dreamhouse Adventures 🏠 - send me an AU/trope + hottie and I will make a moodboard (check out previous moodboards I have made for ideas)

Feel the glamour in pink 💖 - the floor is yours to get to know me better, thirst over a hottie, talk about your day, etc. Please just be respectful and do not send me any celeb discourse!

Oh, I love you, Ken 💘

♥ Real life hotties ♥

Simu Liu*, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Holland, Austin Butler*, Barry Keoghan, Andrew Garfield, Harry Styles, Oscar Isaac, Michael B. Jordan, Benedict Cumberbatch, Hayden Christensen

♥ Fictional hotties ♥

Marvel: Loki Laufeyson, Xu Shang-Chi/Shangqi*, Peter Parker (any variant), Xu Wenwu, Erik Kilmonger, Scott Lang, Thor Odinson*, Druig, Kingo, Eros/Starfox, Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff (Age of Ultron), Joaquin Torres, Bucky Barnes, Moonknight (all alters)*, Stephen Strange

Star Wars: Din Djarin, Anakin Skywalker*, Obi Wan Kenobi, Poe Dameron

Other: Kim Jung* (Kim’s Convenience), any of Sim Liu’s SNL characters (I am dead serious), Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive), Johnathan Pine (The Night Manager), Robert Laing (High Rise), James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island), Nathan Drake (Uncharted), Arvin Russel (The Devil All The Time)

An * indicates who I am simping for most at the moment and highly encourage asks for them!

dividers: @firefly-in-darkness

#barbie and the 900 followers #Ken Loves Barbie 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 #Blonde Bimbo Girl 👱🏻‍♀️ #Life in plastic 👠 #You're my doll 💄 #Dress me up👗 #Dreamhouse Adventures 🏠 #Feel the glamour in pink 💖

[destinyc1020]

A lot of times the undertones of the stuff you guys say comes off like you think Tom isn’t as physically attractive as you want us to believe that you think he is…. like for y’all, Z is gorgeous so he just HAD TO BE attracted to her instantly for sure. but for Z it might’ve taken a little longer cause he’s not that good looking and his personality and charm is what helps him.

But then in the same breath when non fans are mean to him, y’all are up in arms and defensive about it.

🥴🥴

Anon WHAT??? 🥴

Obviously you haven't been actively following my blog, because if you have, you would see that I thirst over Tom ALL the time. Who do you think (fantasy) Husband #1 is lol? 🤣 😂

Our reasons for thinking that Z was not INSTANTLY attracted to Tom have nothing to do with his looks (I think he's good-looking btw), but more to do with what they themselves have personally said over the years and making guesses from that. Tom said that meeting her was "awkward" at first, and how he was kind of nervous, and she said that mtg him for the first time wasn't nerve-wracking for her and she didn't understand why it was awkward for him. She didn't feel their first meeting together was as awkward as he's making it out to be... When you're not instantly attracted to someone, you're NOT nervous lol.

Plus, that's just how most women are anyway. Most men are the ones who feel that INSTANT attraction for a woman (what do you think drives men to talk to you or befriend you in the first place lol? 😂), while we as women take a little time to "warm up" to them, or we fall in love with their personality first more before feeling that huge attraction.

That's just the typical nature of male/female rlshps.

Granted, I don't think it took long at all for Z to be attracted to Tom, coz to me it seemed like they were crushing on each other already at ComicCon lol. 😂

But idk what makes you think we think Tom is "ugly". He's not! He may not be what most ppl consider "conventionally handsome", but he's def not ugly. Remember, I've seen this man in person, and he is definitively not ugly. In fact, I'd say that pictures actually don't do him justice because in person he's really cute. 🥰

And obviously Z finds him hot. Like hello? 🥴 That's all that matters anyway! It doesn't matter what WE think about him lol. 😂 All that matters is what SHE thinks about him and his looks. Plus, even if Tom were ugly, I'd STILL be happy for Z and be excited that they are together because he treats her so nicely! 🥰❤ And Tom's personality and charm ARE FIRE....like why should we deny that??

Looks are NOT everything Anon. And anyone who bases a serious rlshp on looks is just silly.

Besides, most of the time, the woman IS the better looking one in the relationship. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Just saying. And even then...what's wrong with saying Zendaya is gorgeous? SHE IS!!! Why does that bother you so much? It kind of reeks of slight misogyny imo if us saying that Z is "gorgeous" gets you all upset. 🥴

Idk why you're getting your panties all up in a bunch Anon lol. I swear.... some of you fans are soooo sensitive for no good reason at all.

How many times have I said here in my blog that I love BOTH Tom and Zendaya? How many times do I have to say that? 😅

[fantomcomics]

What’s Out This Week? 8/10

Hope y’all like tee shirts, cuz we just got in a metric BUTTLOAD of new ones! (Yes a Buttload is a unit of measurement don’t question us)

The Deadliest Bouquet #1 (of 5) -  Erica Schultz, Carola Borelli, Gab Contreras  & Adriana Melo

Jasmine Hawthorn was a hard-edged Nazi hunter who trained her children well in the art of espionage. But in 1998, when her complicated past finally catches up with her, it's up to her three estranged daughters, Rose, Poppy, and Violet, to solve their mom's murder - if they can avoid killing each other in the process.

Cover The Dead With Lime #1 -  Jonathan Chance & Hernan Gonzalez

The Great Plague ravishes England, killing thousands in its first year. Housebound infected homes are marked with a painted red cross, warning of the spread as plague doktors are sent into towns to face the impending doom.

Samurai Doggy #1 -  Chris Tex & Santtos

During the Fourth War of the Sun, a small dog named DOGGY experienced an irreparable trauma: his mother was brutally murdered, and his eight brothers, still puppies, were kidnapped by a mysterious man. To save them, Doggy fought bravely against the terrible killer, but all his efforts were in vain, and he was left for dead. What nobody imagined was that a technological vulture scavenging the region for corpses would be the one to rescue the dying dog from death's scythe. Now, Doggy has become Samurai Doggy, and his only goal is to quench his thirst for revenge.

Love Everlasting #1 -  Tom King & Elsa Charretier

From superstar award-winning creators TOM KING & ELSA CHARRETIER comes a new ONGOING SERIES set in a world as frighteningly fantastical as any found beyond the stars: Romance Comics! Joan Peterson discovers that she is trapped in an endless cycle-a problem to be solved, a man to marry-and every time she falls in love, she disappears into another teary saga. Her bloody journey to freedom starts in this breathtaking, groundbreaking FIRST ISSUE.

The Tunnel to Summer, The Exit of Goodbyes: Ultramarine GN Vol 1 -  Mei Hachimoku & Koudon

Tono Kaoru heard a rumor: The laws of space and time mean nothing to the Urashima Tunnel. If you find it, walk through and you'll find your heart's desire on the other side... in exchange for years of your own life. On the night Kaoru just so happens to find himself standing in front of a tunnel that looks suspiciously like the one the rumor describes, he finds himself thinking of Karen, the sister he lost in an accident five years ago. To Kaoru's surprise, he's been followed by the new transfer student Anzu Hanaki, who promises to help him experiment with the mysterious tunnel-but what does she want from Kaoru in exchange? And what will he have left to give, after the tunnel's done with him?

007 #1 - Phillip Kennedy Johnson, Marco Finnegan & Tommy Lee Edwards

OO7 is back in action! After a high-stakes rescue mission is mysteriously, violently sabotaged, Bond's future at MI6 hangs in the balance. As he awaits his fate, James Bond is urgently contacted by an old flame and mentor: Gwendolyn Gann, formerly Agent OO3, who warns Bond of an existential threat to England and the global balance of power. But before they can meet, OO3 turns up dead, sending Bond on the most personal mission of his career: find Gwendolyn Gann's killers, and expose the shadowy organization known only as "Myrmidon."

Kowloon Generic Romance GN Vol 1 -  Jun Mayuzuki

Welcome to Kowloon Walled City-a dystopian townscape full of people brimming with nostalgia and a place where the past, present, and future converge. This vividly drawn tale tells the story of the secret feelings and extraordinary daily lives of the working men and women living in the city.

Tales Of The Kingdom HC Vol 1 -  Asumiko Nakamura

Purple-eyed Adarte, blue-eyed Adolte. One enveloped in light-the graceful son; and one shrouded in darkness-the prisoner. Destined to walk different paths in a kingdom where a beautiful man is lauded as a hero while his enigmatic assistant toils to support him...

World End Solte GN Vol 1 -  Satoshi Mizukami

From the creator of cult favorites Lucifer and the Biscuit Hammer, Spirit Circle, and Planet With. The war is finally over, but the land has been ravaged. Magical pollution runs rampant, distorting time and space. Solte, an orphan whose mother and father were killed trying to eliminate this blight, decides to follow in her parents' footsteps. But rather than cleansing the pollution, she wants to venture into it, like the Salvagers who reclaim treasure from its depths. Solte wants to push farther and see if she can find the other side-and perhaps even the answers she seeks.

Oblivion Rouge GN -  Pap Souleye Fall

In the near future, the Hakkinen army emerges to quell a worldwide war, adopting children to aid them. Oumi and her friends are enlisted to help find a cure and end the bloodshed, but with strange forces gathering against her continent, can Oumi overcome her own insecurities and lead her people to paradise?

Blade Runner: Black Lotus #1 -  Nancy A. Collins, Enid Balam & Jung-Geun Yoon

SET AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE BLADE RUNNER: BLACK LOTUS ANIME SERIES! ELLE, AKA BLACK LOTUS, HOPED SHE COULD LEAVE BEHIND HER VIOLENT PAST AND FIND A NEW LIFE. BUT IS THAT POSSIBLE IN A WORLD WHERE REPLICANTS ARE STILL HUNTED AND FEARED. EXPANDING THE WORLD OF BLADE RUNNER WITH A NEW TYPE OF REPLICANT!

Parker Girls #1 -  Terry Moore

When Annie Graham's lifeless body washes up Venice beach, the nation mourns the loss of a popular actress. Police suspect her death was no accident but Graham's husband-billionaire Zachary Lot-has the best lawyers money can buy and the investigation stalls. That's when Tambi Baker decides to take matters into her own hands and enlist three of her finest Parker Girl operatives to bring the Lot Empire down, one shocking scandal at a time.

Whatcha scooping up this week, Fantomites? 

#WOTW #What's Out This Week? #comic #comics #comic book #comic books #Parker Girls #Blade Runner Black Lotus #Oblivion Rouge #World End Solte #Tales Of The Kingdom #Kowloon Generic Romance #007 #The Tunnel to Summer The Exit of Goodbyes: Ultramarine #Love Everlasting #Samurai Doggy #Cover The Dead With Lime #The Deadliest Bouquet

[fussyspace]

Those not finished, part 1

At this stage of the competition, we're just meant to read 10-30% of a book and vote yes or no on whether we want to continue/the book should advance. The team's votes are then added together to find the top 10-12, which we then read in full and score.

These are the books I gave a no vote to and didn't finish reading. There are some I finished reading and still voted no to (usually when they were short enough that it wouldn't take long to get to the end).

A no vote doesn't necessarily mean a book is bad. Please also remember that these views are my own and may not reflect the rest of the team.

Star Language, Charon Dunn

Word count: ~59,000

Cover: It's, uh... it's a vibe. I'm not sure if it's purposefully leaning into the MS Paint/Word Art aesthetic, but it's definitely there. I certainly wouldn't want to pick it up based on the cover – even improving the typography and leaving the rest alone would do wonders. It does have a certain charm to it, in the same way that the Star Wars Holiday Special does.

Blurb: 'Melina is super unlucky when it comes to mothers; hers is an abusive greedy drugged-up nightmare who sells her to traffickers. She’s a lot luckier when it comes to boyfriends – her big strong alien bae makes everyone thirst. The one department where her luck is absolutely on point has to do with her talent – a flair for learning languages that makes her the only one capable of performing translation duty once the aliens reach Earth. Trigger warning: SA, ultraviolence, 18+, explicit badness.'

I didn't really know what to make of this, beyond cringing at 'big strong alien bae' and figuring that plus the trigger warnings must mean it was erotica. It wasn't (and I admit to be a little disappointed even though that's not my thing). I'm still not sure if 'explicit badness' is meant to mean badassery or something else.

Content: I wasn’t thrilled when the book opened with the main character’s entire life story. It was, admittedly, a fairly interesting life, and I could see it was leading up to her translating for the aliens when they arrived, but there was nothing sci-fi to it for a massive whack of book. My main issue was the writing style, however, which never varied from being very simplistic and telling rather than showing. It was good that it stuck quite clearly to the narrator’s voice, but I still found it made everything feel bland and reported. It only really started getting a little more varied and interesting by the 30% mark.

When the aliens eventually arrived, they were quite uninteresting – just grey humans with a culture that’s meant to be slightly different but fundamentally isn’t, and they somehow have dinosaurs. The main character also said she loved one of the aliens at one point, but felt nothing when she was reassigned to a different alien. This might make sense on account of her backstory, but it seemed weird to me, and I was sort of interested to see what happened next but also very bored of it. I stopped reading for this reason. Given it's short, I still might read the rest of it later.

Vote to continue at 30%: No

The Rat's Nest, Adam Crookston

Word count: ~46,300

Cover: I appreciate the stylised battery diagram here. I think it's pretty neat, and works well with the text. I don't think it gives me much idea what the book's about, though, and I'm not sure I need to know that it's the first edition.

Blurb: 'In the Year 3022, the people of earth have migrated planets over 82 times, saving ones that provide useful resources and storage. After a woman goes missing on the infamous planet 28. It's up to a gifted soldier to return her to safety. A story about Self Belief, Belonging, and pushing through the worst.Will Tom survive the trails and tribulations, or will Cain take over the minds of everyone.

'Tom - An Electrician Solider with the ability to manipulate minds to his liking through the 82 government protocol. He follows the rules and still gets the bad end of the stick, but with every fight he keeps going.

'Cain - The mysterious figure with an ability to control millions through manipulation and control, his mass army of millions takes over cities on planet 28 to his liking. An ability to control desires.

'Alma - A warrior on the planet 28, she's made a world that is her own, geared with anything to be prepared for a fight. a fighter for the 82 until she was exposed to the realities of who they are.'

This is a blurb of decent enough length to get what might be inside, unlike a few others that were quite short. Unfortunately this is also where I got a glimpse of the overall quality, with sentences fragmented at random, incorrect punctuation and haphazard capitalisation. If I were looking for a book to read and read this blurb, I would give it a hard pass. It's a shame, as it sounded like it could otherwise be interesting.

Content: As hinted by the blurb, the writing quality was poor – much worse than the blurb, in fact. Full of sentence fragments, inconsistent tenses and incorrect word choices, I couldn't read more than a few pages before I had to put it down.

Vote to continue: No

Escalation, Itzhak Begerano

Word count: ~90,300

Cover: It has the feeling of some text slapped over a stock image, and it's not a stock image that tells me anything about what's inside. The author actually submitted some cartoons for the cover contest, and I believe this was adapted from an animated piece, so it would have been nice to see some of that instead.

Blurb: 'Bizarre politicians are dragging the world into a hallucinatory war.

'Two conflicted presidents, each driven by delusion and greed, dream of ruling the globe. To meet their goals, they resort to fraud, bribery, and corruption. Alexander Monroe - the president of the Democratic Organization, and Suleiman Assad - the president of the Free Islamic Forces, find themselves dragged into an inevitable war. Barney Chaplin the entertainer, the nerdy minister of education who opposes the idiotic war. He became Monroe's deputy and was sent to the front lines in the Fata Morgana desert to entertain his troops while risking his own life. The performance of President Monroe and the members of his government are examined by the government psychiatrist Professor Cheers, and everyone understands that it is better that someone supervises her as well… During the illusory war, well-known Hollywood actors who have passed their time are forced to function as deadly commandos and go beyond enemy lines.

'story possibilities

'·     '

Yes, the YouTube link is included in the blurb. The rest of the blurb is all one chunk of text that starts out pretty interesting, but then keeps dropping names and keeps getting weirder. By the end I'm not really sure what direction the book's trying to take. I'm afraid I also didn't (and still don't) understand enough about the political situations mentioned to comment, and given this a political satire, that's a fairly crucial aspect for me to lack.

Content: The first few pages of this book were completely nonsensical and a real struggle to read. Absolutely cluttered with adjectives, I couldn't tell what was going on and couldn't bring myself to read any more.

Vote to continue: No

#SPSFC #SPSFC3 #SPSFC3 round 1 #self publishing #science fiction #sci fi #SFF

[pashterlengkap]

“White Lotus” creator and cast discuss the show’s latest shocking gay sex scene

The White Lotus delivered another jaw-dropping gay sex scene in last night’s fifth episode of Season 2. Spoilers ahead! In addition being a surprise hit with both audiences and critics when it premiered last summer, the HBO anthology comedy made headlines in Season 1 for a notorious scene in which hotel manager Armand (Murray Bartlett) was caught performing anilingus on another hotel employee (Lukas Gage). Season 2 of the show, which features an almost entirely new cast and moves the action from Hawaii to Sicily, has been even more sexually charged than the first. Gay Twitter has been thirsting over Theo James, Will Sharpe, and Adam DiMarco, all of whom have shown quite a bit of skin in recent episodes. So it seemed like only a matter of time before the show’s creator, writer, and director Mike White attempted to break the internet. At the end of last night’s episode, Jennifer Coolidge’s Tanya stumbles upon her new gay bestie Quentin (Tom Hollander) in a very compromising position with his scorchingly hot alleged nephew Jack (Leo Woodall) in a scene that feel like a direct call back to the one between Bartlett and Gage in Season 1. Unsurprisingly, The White Lotus is trending on Twitter today. at its heart, the white lotus really is a show about privilege and different kinds of gay sex — David Mack (@davidmackau) November 28, 2022 The White Lotus Sicily said “when you’re here, you’re familydick” — adam moussa (@adamjmoussa) November 28, 2022 I see they got the writers from Men dot com for White Lotus this season — Jensen from Dodge City (@petworthot) November 28, 2022 Of course, the scene provokes some questions. Specifically: Is Jack really Quentin’s actual nephew? In a season that deals explicitly with the transactional nature of sex, it seems likely that Jack is another sex worker, like Lucia (Simona Tabasco), who is just posing as Quentin’s nephew for the sake of discretion. But in an interview with Variety, White stayed tight-lipped. “Well, you’ll have to see,” the show’s bisexual creator told the magazine. “There’s a pleasure to me as a guy who is gay-ish to make gay sex transgressive again,” White said of the scene. “It’s dirty… men are having sex and you have this Psycho music underneath. It just amuses me.” “I just think transgressive sex is sexier. I guess I’m old school. There’s this Gothic vibe of walking through a haunted hotel or haunted house and people are having sex behind closed doors,” he added. Hollander and Woodall both chimed in on their big scene as well. “When I found out about the scene, I was speechless for a while,” said Woodall, who warned his dad not to let his six-year-old brother watch the episode. “I’m such a huge fan of Tom’s, and when I heard that he was going to be playing my uncle, I thought, ‘That is unreal.’ And then when I found out that I was going to shag him as well — that was kind of surreal. Anything that Mike White does with this show is kind of perfect, so there were no reservations about it. It felt like an incredibly ‘wow’ moment.” Unlike Woodall, Hollander said he knew about the scene from the moment he was cast in the role. “It’s more technical than anything else when you’re actually doing it,” Hollander said of filming the sex scene with intimacy coordinator Miriam Lucia. “You know, ‘Is this the right angle? Does this look right?’ But there was a mutually respectful energy between us, too. And on the set, the production was very tender around those moments. It certainly was around that one. We just wanted to do it right.” “There is fantasy, and you’re going through your head going, ‘I hope I look good,’” Hollander continued. “But when they say action, in a way that goes, and you actually just find yourself thinking, ‘I want this to be a true representation of an intimate moment between two people.’ You just want to do it right.” http://dlvr.it/SdWk9H

[jeysbvck]

do people who think it's weird for adults to write about characters think that adults have never been that age or something??? like yeah ok a real life adult shouldn't be going after someone way younger than them and im pretty sure most of us aren't even interested in that. but like this is fiction and the actors are adults, and we're drawing on our past experiences when we read and write about this stuff. it's not because were older and lusting after someone younger. idk how to explain it but i wish this was something these people understood. i really hate how puritanical fandom has become the past few years.

god same here!! like, sorry i, a 29 year old woman, who has been watching stranger things since season 1 came out, grew an attachment to a character whose at least 20 years old, for reasons that go beyond attraction, that only a few people know about bc im not publicly open about why eddie means so much to me (and im attracted to the actor who is a 29 year old, as the other anon pointed out). i have friends that are between the ages of 19 & 22, i don't and would never look at them in that way, or do i look at 20 year old celebrities and thirst over them (i absolutely adore tom holland but god does it feel weird to be like "he's so hot")

i completely agree! ive been in fandom spaces since 14 years old, ive been writing fanfic on and off since 2008, like my partner jokes that im of the og golden age of fandom (he's a little shit) and it just keeps getting worse, especially the ageism of people who are adults and still enjoying this stuff! like, your interests don't disappear just bc you hit a certain age, and these people are going to get a shock when they're this age!

#shan speaks #anon asks

[thirstyfortom]

Alright! Let’s get things started!

CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR RAY’S ROUTE

1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL

CHARACTER DAY: SAERAN

Cuddling with Saeran

Yes, he is touch starved

 But he’s also very worried about showing you how much. He doesn’t want you to know how clingy he is.

So at first, he would be okay with just holding your hand when you’re sitting next to him

And by that, he would find it’s particularly hard not to want more.

“Can I lean on you just a little before I go back to work?” he’ll ask with pleading eyes, because there’s that part of him who thinks he might be asking too much from you.

But when you agree, he’ll lean his head on your shoulder and sigh in satisfaction by the warmth and softness of your body

If you bring your hand to pat his head and play with his hair, he’s a mess, it’s so good he doesn’t even dare to move.

When you guys are lying in bed or in the couch, it’s… a little awkward.

He wants to hold you tight in his arms and smell your hair, but… again, it’s too soon to show you all his clinginess.

So he’s more than happy when you take the lead and rest your head on his chest, allowing him to stroke your hair

Wants to be the big spoon one day, but for now… he’s a little spoon mumbling sweet nothings as he hears your heartbeat and starts feeling sleepy.

Proud cuddler in public. He HAS TO be holding your hand when you go out together.

It’s not entirely to show you off, it’s more to remind himself that yes, he’s free, and this is his reality now.

He’s free to hold hands in public with the love of his life.

Headcanons to celebrate the 1st year of this blog, as explained here!

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger writing #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger hcs #saeran choi #saeran x mc #1 year anniversary #1 year feeling thirst for Tom #1 year anniversary special #ray route spoilers

[latent-thoughts]

There are so many people who didn't like that scene at all, that I'm feeling bad about myself for thirsting over the scene. Like, I get that was a shitty move on the part of TVA, but is it really so bad that I find him hot? It wasn't consensual, and I get that, I don't like the context in which that happened at all, but a shirtless Loki is just way too hot to resist... Am I a bad person for feeling this way? 🙁

Oh hon, no no no.

No!

You are NOT a bad person. Please don't think like that.

See, first of all, this is a story. Characters get into uncomfortable situations in story, it drives the story forward. It makes it interesting. It majes it intriguing. If a story is nothing but pleasantness, then it tends to be boring, especially if it's in the genre of fantasy+action. Conflict is part of such stories.

Loki is indeed in a tough situation here. He has been captured and he doesn't know who these people even are. Yes, it's a grim situation. It's not ideal or consensual, but we often find our Marvel heroes in such situations. This is often how the story starts.

This scene in particular is reminiscent of that scene in GOTG 1, where they put everyone in the GOTG in that space prison. Remember how pissed Peter Quill was when they off his clothes and sprayed some chemical on him? Loki is exactly like that here.

There are other examples too. Thor in Ragnarok. Tony Stark in Iron Man 1 (when he was abducted and forced to make weapons for terrorists. Not naked, but he's under duress). Bucky after he fell from the train. Etc etc..

So, tell me where the fandom was in outrage in these cases? I don't recall any outrage directed at such scenes before. Because it was all was part of the story.

Loki's stripping is important to the narrative in that it shows just how insidious and creepy the TVA actually is. It's disconcerting how easily they kill the prisoners who dare to protest. Loki realizes, in clear progression, just how fucked up TVA is, and the stripping is part of that. It's uncomfortable for him because that's how it is supposed to be for the sake of the narrative. Prisoners of TVA are being dehumanised, and it's showing the viewers its true nature.

So now that we've covered all that narrative business, we come to us--the viewers who found Loki's naked form very titillating. You and I both understand how the story goes, how it's not a nice experience for Loki. But here's the thing, it's all fictional. What's happening to Loki is fictional.

It's Tom Hiddleston as Loki. He's naked, and it's the stuff of the erotic fanfiction we've been reading and writing for years. It's something that we never thought we'd get, but we finally have it. It's something to rejoice for fans like you and me. That joy has nothing to do with Loki's situation within the narrative.

Feeling bad for Loki and feeling hot for Loki are things which can totally co-exist. Feeling turned on by his beautiful naked form does not make you a bad person. It doesn't mean that we're supporting the TVA or condoning what they're doing to him. Not at all! It's just something fun, something we do in the fandom.

Simply put, we're thirsty for Loki, and seeing him naked is a blessing. It's something that exists beyond the 4th wall. We're participating in the fandom here, not the Loki series story itself. That will happen in a parallel line when the series airs.

We've always done it.

I have seen posts (participated in them myself) where people are thirsting over Loki while he's injured and dying in TDW. Similarly, I've seen thirst posts about Loki in the scene where he's getting electrocuted in Ragnarok. I've seen thirst posts about Loki in chains, Loki in armour, Loki walking, Loki doing this and that. They're not part of the narrative. They're part of the fandom breaking that 4th wall. And they're perfectly fine. None of the people participating in these posts are bad. We just like Loki's form. He's beautiful.

Even considering Tom and his other movies, the fandom has appreciated his body in various scenes which might not be considered strictly sexual.

So, dear Anon, please don't feel bad. It's perfectly fine to like that scene. It's perfectly fine to thirst over Loki. You don't need to confirm to what others think or perceive regarding that scene. You're doing just fine.

#loki #mcu loki #tom hiddleston #marvel #ask #anon asks #loki series #loki series promo #naked loki #not a tag i expected to use lmao #naked loki is a gift to humanity

[lsholland]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 (𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 - "𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠?"

Word count: 3.7k

tw: addictions (alcohol, drugs), swearing, disease, murder...

genre: psychological thriller / suspense / drama

Synopsis: Tom Holland is Hollywood's #1 celebrity and is adored all around the world. But this rise to fame hasn't been easy for him. With fame comes his own demons: addiction issues, a relationship that's about to end and...he doesn't know it yet, but he's about to kill an innocent woman. How is he going to get through it?

You can also read it on Wattpad.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)

"Tom! Tom!!! TOM!!!" shouts a woman in a black hoodie among a hysterical crowd of young boys and girls trying to get this man's attention. "PLEASE!!! I love you so much" her voice crackles, she's sobbing in despair.

He stops walking and stands right in front of her, a sharpie pen between his fingers and an unnatural grin on his face. Even though these people claim they love him, he's tired of them. It's something with the drama, the screams, and the perpetual inconsideration that drains his energy. His straight face says it all, if only they weren't obsessed with his looks, he'd be pleased to spend time with them. But he knows he's just an object of their fantasies. He forces a smile, or something close to it, and accepts to take a picture with her. He stands next to her, his arms in his back, his fingers intertwined and shakily holding the pen, glancing at the camera lens, lost in his thoughts. His body is present in the moment, but his mind is thousands of kilometres away in the universe that is his brain.

And she's so happy to finally have that precious picture that her smile shows all her impeccable teeth; she's sweating and rapidly breathing and laughing with the same high-pitched voice as everyone else; she's just a typical fangirl. All her friends gather around her and whisper as if they were hiding a secret from an alien.

And onto the next one. Same hysteria, same cry for help, miserable for his attention. She hands him a picture of him in a Spider-Man suit and asks for an autograph while she's filming the scene with her brand-new iPhone.

It has to do with the way they treat him. The way they pretend he doesn't notice their weird behaviour. The way they simply believe he's not a human being. That he must be good-looking, happy, nice, and funny all the time.

"We've gotta go" says his assistant as he presses his shoulder with his hand. Tom looks at him with relief and closes his eyes for a second. He lets out a sigh as a soft smile appears on his angelic face.

"A'ight, I'm sorry guys" he apologises, but that's not enough. Many of them start crying and push through the thin barrier to get a hold of him; like monsters that haven't been fed, like addicts when you can't provide their usual dose of drugs. They look so disappointed and hopeless; leaving now would reduce all his efforts to dust. Keeping a good image and reputation is the key. He doesn't want to be hated.

Guilt rushes through him like a thrill; he glances at his watch and gulps. He gives them another 5 minutes for pictures, autographs, and hugs. Even if he's late. Even if he's going to miss his interview. Because he owes his success to them; or at least he thinks he does.

And when he goes into the back seat of this huge black SUV with no registration plate, he slams the door shut and . . . Peace. Finally, the moment he's been waiting for. The pressure leaves his body like a bubble burst. He sighs and relaxes his muscles, his head falling back on the seat. His eyes are closed; he doesn't say a word for the whole ride. His time alone is so rare and valued.

And when they arrive in front of that gigantic building to pass this final interview, Tom prepares to show his usual bright smile and pretends he's happy. Nobody notices what's hidden in his gaze. But his eyes are telling the truth. His eyes show how hopeless he is. But nobody dares looking into his soul. They only see the superficial layer, the mask he puts on every day. Because nobody knows who he is. Nobody cares about him.

It's so much simpler to ignore sadness in other people. We just tend to believe only good moments are worth sharing. We just pretend we're happy all the time because that's what everyone else does. And why would he show his sadness anyway? He has it all: a girlfriend, loads of money, a caring family, success . . . What can he be sad about?

The interview is done, Tom is in the car, cruising in the city. He's finally going home after a long, tiring, and stressful day.

He unlocks his phone and checks his text messages. They're plain and all related to his fame or his work. All his conversations are so self-centred. What are his plans? What does he like? And what's his opinion on this subject? He, he, him, him, again and again!

He's so tired and wants to be entertained. This empty space laying in his heart and brain becomes bigger and bigger. It's become harder to ignore it, especially when he's alone like tonight. Besides, he's too used to entertain others that he almost forgets what it's like to be passive and watch people do things. As if the world revolved around him.

Here we go. Instagram. The most toxic of all social media platforms. He scrolls through pictures of his friends. The famous ones on red carpets or photoshoots; the anonymous ones a drink in their hands. They're all so superficial. All the same. And the algorithm showing him pictures fans have taken of him earlier today . . . Icing on the cake. Why would he watch this? He doesn't need it. But he decides to read what the fans say, because he's curious. Or because he's obsessed with what people think of him. He needs to be known, loved, remembered, at the centre of attention – adored. He wouldn't need to sell his soul to the devil because it's already in him, and he's now paying the price of this sin.

The fans he met earlier, who were so happy to finally see their idol, were bullying him on social media. They aren't even aware of it. All these people objectifying him, posting pictures of his family – invading his privacy – and saying he can't 'write' or 'walk' or do anything properly because he's just human. They say they are joking except it's not funny. Tom's feelings are hurt, again. He should have written 'you're' instead of 'your', he should have noticed there was a hole in the grass and not trip . . . These images are roaming in his brain like a car's spinning wheels when you brake at 60 miles per hour; the pressure of the tyres scratching your mind, and the intrusive thoughts that can't be stopped like the wheel. Ever. And you eventually hit the wall.

He glances at the rear-view mirror and see his driver focused on the traffic lights. He glances around to make sure no paparazzi is watching and takes a flask out of his back pocket. His trembling hands poorly hold it, but he needs to drink something to feel better; to feel energised. He spills his boose on the leather seats and sighs with annoyance. Grabbing his hoodie feels like lifting the weight of the world; he manages to wipe it off and savours the sweet taste of vodka. Just one sip can't hurt.

That's how you know it's too late.

"Do you really need it?" says the assistant in the front passenger seat who caught him.

"It's just a drink" Tom replies instantly, frowning his eyebrows.

"I'm just worried about you, you know" he adds as he turns around and looks at him in his eyes.

"There's nothing to worry about," Tom mumbles as he feels relaxed "I can stop if I want to."

"If you say so . . ."

And even the people surrounding him day and night aren't trying to help him. Everyone's aware he's slowly getting addicted and is wasting his potential, everyone but the fans. Everyone pretends to love him, but nobody truly cares. They're just after his money, power, and fame . . .

It's like watching him tiptoeing on the deck's edge of a ferry and being shocked when he eventually falls off in the unforgiving cold, dark sea.

He smiles when the car stops in front of his London house. That's the only place where he feels like he can truly be himself. Or the last of it. After all, who is he really? Spider-Man? An actor that pleases 13-year-old girls? A failure? An impostor? Or no one at all?

What happened to the young boy who was excited about everything and anything? What happened to the one who used to laugh more than he'd breathe?

He is torn. He can't love anymore. He's had many girlfriends, each one more famous and beautiful than the last, but they couldn't bring him back to life. He truly loved them though. He felt good with them and always thought they were a match until he messed up. Making up a behaviour so they'd leave him because he's not strong enough to quit. Because he is just like this. A kid who can't handle success.

He currently has a girlfriend. Everyone loves her. He thinks she's too good for him though. Too beautiful, too clever, and maybe too famous. He feels like she's achieving much more than he is and that scares him. He can't even make love to her without feeling like he's not worth it. So, he ignores her calls, takes days to reply to a text, becomes cold as stone, distant, and unstable. This is how cowards break up. But she holds on to him.

Once he gets home, he sits on his couch and starts watching TV. His stomach is empty; he hasn't eaten all day but the only thing he wants is to drink more. It's like a voice in his brain that takes control of his body. He sees everything but can't do anything about it. The smell, the thirst, the mind that can't think of anything else. His hands are shaking, breathing becomes uneasy, he's uncomfortable in his own skin; he's a stranger to himself until he drinks. He's desperately waiting for someone to help him. But they're all too busy with their own problems.

He tries to drink from his flask, but it is empty.

He groans. "One more isn't gonna hurt" he whispers to himself as he walks towards the kitchen area. He opens the fridge and grabs a cold one.

And another one.

And another one.

And another one.

And another one . . .

The saddest thing about the situation is that he truly believes in his excuses. He doesn't realise he desperately needs help.

Now, the fridge is empty. But he still doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel the uninhibited state he wants to reach. He's still a victim of his thoughts; the sadness, the anger, the feeling of being trapped in a never-ending game.

He glances at his 80,000 dollars Rolex and decides it's time for him to go to a bar. He grabs his phone and calls his assistant. No answer. He calls his second assistant then. No answer.

"It's only 2AM, come on!" he grunts.

Only?

He thinks for barely a second and grabs his keys and gets into his car. There's a night bar in Kingston that he absolutely loves, and he knows he's always welcome there.

As a celebrity he's obviously welcome everywhere. But he noticed the way people looked at him with pity when he spent an entire night drinking without speaking to anyone. Alone in his thoughts that only he knows. It's different there, the barmaid usually talks to him and entertains him. And she just doesn't care he's famous, which is rare nowadays.

He's been caught drunk driving many times, but he was always released without a word because he's so famous. As if all the police officers have daughters who worship him.

Maybe his problem is thinking he's above all. He who used to be so humble, kind, and generous.

He parks in front of the venue, but the lights are off. He rolls down the window and squints to read the paper sticked to the door.

The bar is closed for annual leave.

"Fuck it!" he shouts. He checks on his phone if another bar is open tonight. Miss Jackson is. It's not the bar he usually spends his time in, but the beers are good and it's not too crowded for him. He absolutely wants to avoid fans tonight.

Most of them are underage, it's dangerous for him. One mistake and he'd become a paedophile. That's why he swore to himself to never do anything with a fan, no matter how hot they are. It's harder to respect this rule when he's drunk though.

"Let's go then" he says in a lazy way, the alcohol slowly taking control of him.

His eyes are red, everything he sees is blurred. He can't keep his thoughts straight.

He starts the car and puts some music to lighten his mood. He needs this to feel better. If something bad happens while he's drunk it ruins his mood. And when this happens . . . he starts having very dark thoughts. The kind of thoughts you better keep to yourself if you don't want people to be scared for you. Where your life is on the line, and you don't care about tomorrow because you just want to stop it . . . The sadness; the anxiety; the constant fears. Because the only moment you feel happy is when you sleep, as if you were dead. Tom feels like this all the time, and he hides it well.

But now he's focusing on the moment. The boose allows him to feel better. He listens to this pop song and its energy is spreading in his body. He's pushed by the music; the excitement and adrenaline take control over his body. He's ready to go.

He quickly backs up the car. He's so excited to go to the bar to finally drink some more and—

BOOM! His car abruptly stops, it sounds like a crash. An alarm is wailing, echoing in Tom's ears, making him feel dizzy. The shock was so intense he hit his face against the airbag of his steering wheel leaving his skin half-burnt. He passes out.

Tom startles as he wakes up, "what the fuck just happened?" he hisses. He stays still giving time to his brain to proceed the information and checks his rear-view camera. It's been disconnected.

He jumps out of his car and checks what happened. He collided with another vehicle. A much smaller car with a crushed bumper. Tom's car is damaged as well, but he doesn't care, he walks over the small Fiat 500 and scans the surroundings. His heart is pounding; air isn't traveling down to his lungs. He suffocates as if he were trapped in a cage down the ocean. He doesn't control his shaking fingers rubbing against his sweating forehead. His lips are parting, gasping for air, while his eyes are wide open looking straight to the ground.

For a second, he realises that he can be in big trouble if anyone knows about this. This can be enough to be fired by the Marvel Studios and ruin his entire career, his life. No one wants a drunk superstar to ruin a movie's reputation.

He hesitates. He wants to run away. He faintly grabs his head in his weak hands and is heavily panting. He can taste iron on the tip of his tongue. He rubs his forearm against his mouth and feels wobbly at the sight of his own blood.

What is he going to do? Has someone seen what happened? And if he leaves, what happens to the unconscious person in the car? But if he helps them, what guarantees him he's not going to be prosecuted? And lose it all? But what if he leaves and this person dies? What if they die and someone knows he killed them? Each scenario is getting worse and worse.

There's only one viable option for him.

"Hey, are you alright?" he says as he approaches the fuming car.

He glances around, but the street is empty. That's the reason why he usually loves this place; because it's so quiet.

"Are—Are you okay there?" he stutters.

He opens the door and see blood. Dark, thick, red blood. An unconscious woman with blood all over her face is lying on the steering wheel. Her car is so old there is no airbag. The shock must've been tough for her. She might even have a brain injury.

Tom places his hand on this woman's neck to check if her heart is still beating. It's weak. She needs help or she'll die because of his stupidity, because he's a drunk who can't even check his surroundings before backing up his car. Poor woman whose life is on pause for his mistake. She'll die because of him.

He dials 999 on his cell phone and repeats what he's going to say once someone picks up the phone.

"There's a woman—she's injured! Car accident!" he cries. He doesn't even try to make sentences; he just wants this to be over. "Please come quickly"

"What's your name, sir?"

His body is wavering, tears are streaming down his face – it's absolute chaos in his mind. He can't tell his name; he'd rather die than publicly suffer from the consequences of his actions. He needs to fly away; he needs to escape from this nightmare. He needs to leave, and now.

He hangs up in a hurry. No one can know he is drunk, and he almost killed someone. He walks back to his SUV and catches one last glimpse of this woman's body before closing the door and driving away.

As soon as he leaves, he regrets his decision, but sticks to it anyway. His soul is crying for him to go back there and help this dying life, but his cowardice tells him to hide and wait until this is over. He's reaching his lowest point, and the only person he wants to see now is his mum. When she holds him in her arms, the weight of his problems is bearable; he can even feel relaxed. And he wishes she'd be able to do it tonight. But it would kill her to know what monstrosity her son just did . . .

He's home, all alone. It's been a few hours since the incident happened, and Tom can't think of anything else. This woman's face, her blood all over the windshield, her crushed car.

Why didn't she see him? Why was she driving so fast in an empty street at night? So many questions roam in Tom's brain, it's slowly eating him alive.

He's sobering up as the morning lights glow on his face. It's already 6AM and he hasn't slept at all. He watches himself in his bathroom mirror and only see dark circles, pale skin, and the features of a monster. The broken blood vessels in the white of his eyes give him an evil aspect. He raises his arm and see the pink burnt skin, another scar for life. How on earth could he leave a dying woman?

He doesn't only feel remorse; he doesn't recognise himself. He's lost and wonders what happened in his life to be so miserable he considers his career more important than someone else's life.

He firmly rubs his face with the palms of his hands and takes off his clothes in a simple sweep. He crawls onto his bed and covers his body with a weighted blanket. He's almost trying to forget he exists when he squeezes his eyes shut and stops breathing until his lungs pressure him to open his mouth. Nature has done a wonderful job preventing us from suffocating on purpose. What a bummer for Tom; he would be dead already if he could just stop breathing . . .

He takes his phone, his only friend and his worst enemy, and checks the local news. Maybe they've mentioned the accident and he'll be able to know what happened to his woman. Not many articles have been published since last night. He keeps scrolling until he finds what he's been looking for.

25-year-old in coma after accident in Southeast London, fugitive remains unfound

Tom's heart skips a beat; this article must be about her. For a second, he apprehends and hesitates to read the article. But his guilty mind needs to know everything about what happened since he deserted.

As he reads the article, he gently places his hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out loud. The woman was so heavily injured they needed to put her under artificial coma to keep her alive. She was on her way to meet her dying husband, in the same hospital she's at now.

Such an emotional shock inflicts a profound pain to Tom's heart. He sobs in silence and passes out due to sleep deprivation. He's finally at peace; no thought, no nightmare. His mind is off, and his body is fully regenerating. His brain is solely focused on keeping his body alive. His soul is resting for a few hours until his cell phone starts ringing.

Tom wakes up with a start and answers his phone without checking who's on the line.

"Tom, what are you doing? I've been knocking at your door for the past 10 minutes," shouts his brother "what happened to your car? Dude what are you doing? You've gotta get ready for GQ!"

"Wh—What?" he mumbles.

His brother knocks at the door. Tom gets off his bed and walks down the stairs with difficulty. When he opens the door, the lights blind him, it's too sunny outside. He'd rather stay inside for a few more hours.

His brother checks him out and sighs. "Have you been drinking? The photoshoot is in less than an hour and you look like shit"

Tom remains silent, trying to process the information.

"And what happened to your car, man?"

And here it is. Every memory comes back in his mind like fireworks and his feet are failing, he can barely stand still. He grabs his brother by his shoulder and holds him tight in his arms. He's the only one who can really help him feel better. He wants to tell him everything that happened, but he can't admit he's got a problem.

He's lost.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! What do you think so far of the story? Tom is in a very bad situation, I wonder how he's going to get through it?

Please like this post to be in the taglist.

#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland fiction #tom holland imagines

[fortisfiliae]

Promised Part 15 - Tom Riddle x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

A/n: This chapter is written from Tom’s pov. Reader will be addressed in third person.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 2k

Part 15 - A Dagger for a Devotee

Now that all of the ingredients for the antidote were gathered and added, the potion was as good as finished. It just had to simmer on for a while. If the instructions were correct, it would be finished on June 29th, which was the last day of school. Graduation day. One day before the wedding. 

The wedding. Tom thought about it a lot. It would happen. That, he knew. The plan was to give Elsie the antidote on their wedding day so that she would be completely healed and they could still keep a low profile towards Marvolo and Morfin. Their wish would be fulfilled then, and even if the Gaunts were going to ask for more, they wouldn’t know that Elsie wasn’t under their might anymore. Tom was sure they were going to try to pressure him by threatening to hurt Elsie someday, even when he was married. That was just in their nature. They would never be satisfied.

He wondered how long it would take them to figure out that she had been healed. Weeks, months, years? And how they would react then. Were they going to take out their anger on him? The more he thought about it, the less he cared. He had even fantasised about it if he was honest. That Marvolo would lose his temper and would attack him. Tom had waited so long for an excuse to pay his Grandfather back, his fingers were itching just thinking about it. Oh, the things he would like to do to him were unspeakable and the grin on his face only widened the longer he envisioned them. He would welcome the opportunity with open arms. 

Some nights, when he lay awake and couldn’t just fall asleep yet, Tom wondered if his life would have been different, if he would have turned out to be another person, had he not been brought up by the Gaunts. He didn’t wish for it, like his fiancée had mentioned so often, no, but he still couldn’t help but wonder. Was there a possibility for a different Tom Riddle to exist? One that would live with parents, one that wasn’t as cold and narrow-minded, one that could crack a real good joke to his friends? A funny, warm, kind version of him? His stomach squirmed at the thought. Disgusting. 

He could have turned out like Benjamin Hilt. Merlin’s sake, what a nightmare that would be. To act like him, so loud and bothersome. Head in the clouds, mouth always open and never thinking about any consequences. Hilt had it so easy. But nevertheless, Ben’s attitude was intriguing. Annoying yes, but intriguing. Tom wouldn’t have thought Hilt would be able to keep his muggleborn mouth shut and keep the pact a secret, but he hadn’t told anyone about it yet, as far as Tom was aware. And he didn’t seem to keep his word out of fear, but rather out of belief. Ben wasn’t the type to have deep thoughts, by the looks of it at least, but he had his priorities set. And for that Tom respected him. Everything Ben did seemed to come so easily from within, not wasting one too many thoughts. It was something so deeply ingrained that it must have come naturally. 

He was so different compared to Tom’s friends. Or whatever word one would use for people like Avery, Lestrange and the others. They were nothing more than followers, blind and mindless. They wouldn’t just offer their help to be a good person. They always wanted something in return, even if it was just Tom’s recognition. And he knew, if someone else were to take his place, they would drop him in an instant. Their loyalty was superficial and egoistic. Just as his own. He would drop them too if someone more useful were to show up and solicit themselves. 

That was how it always had been. How he had thought friendships were meant to be. A mutual agreement, quite similar to business. Be polite, make use of a person as much as you can, make sure they’re intimidated enough to keep their knowledge to themselves and wish them well on their way out. Simple, beneficial and most importantly efficient. 

But what his fiancée, Ben and Camille had was so different. He had waited for Camille and Ben to ask for something in return. Weeks had gone by, where he had anticipated for them to come up and ask for a favour. A note from the head boy to get out of detention, or something else. But they hadn’t. They had helped to steal the Banshee tears and were still tending to the potion in the Come and Go Room every day. For nothing? He couldn’t fathom it at first, and only when he thought about it again, it came to his mind that this could be what real friendship was like. 

He didn’t like how much it churned him, how much consideration it had taken to come to this conclusion, when apparently for other people, that was the most natural thing in the world.

Tom obtained a much greater deal of wit than Ben, without a doubt, but yet, Hilt possessed so much more emotional intelligence than Tom could ever dream of. And he was jealous of him. That Ben could just walk through life, listen to his gut and trust that whatever it would tell him would be with good intent. Tom could have made real friends too then. He could have developed that trust to his gut too, if he hadn’t been fed those vicious thoughts by the Gaunts his whole life. He could have even gotten to know a muggle for all he knew, if he hadn’t been told, day after day, how worthless and irrelevant they were. That’s what they had always said. But the Gaunts had lied so often, maybe they had lied about that too. He had believed them for so long that he couldn’t even tell which opinion was his own and which one had been planted in his head by someone else. 

And then came three people who acted against all his values, showing him a glimpse of what life could be like. Everything he knew, his view of the world, as well as his belief, had collapsed in a matter of months. He had learned so many new things, he wasn’t even sure if he knew himself anymore. 

Had he changed? He must have, somehow at least. It was ironic, how the Gaunts’ plan to marry him off to a pureblood witch, who they thought would bring their family safety and respect, turned out to result in the complete opposite. Nothing, not even Marvolo’s paranoia and obsession for being a step ahead had come of use. They all had turned against them in the end, and for what? The faint idea of power and reputation? What worth did those things even have when everyone who bowed down to you only did so out of fear? They would take the first chance they got to stab you in the back with the very dagger you had given them. If you can’t trust your devotees, why bother?

Trust was something he thought of a lot, too. Did someone truly trust him? His fiancée for instance. She had put her faith in his hands several times in the past, yes. But would she trust him with her life? Had he done enough to earn her deepest trust yet? Or would she let him fall too when the opportunity arrived? When the deal was sealed, her sister was free and the Gaunts were powerless. Would she leave him, or would she stay? It kept him up at night when he thought about being alone again. Not because he depended on someone to be there, he was fine on his own. But he couldn’t change the fact that he wanted her to stay. And only her. No one else would do.

No one else had ever awoken that part of him before. That part that wasn’t as selfish, as calculating and cautious. And he knew no one else could. There was something about her, that slight brush of a hand when she touched him, or that unintentional notion of a smile she wore so often that broke out a whirlwind of emotion inside of him again and again. And he still didn’t even know what it was that he felt. It was nerve-racking, this mixture of nervousness, excitement and joy. If he had been able to, he would have buried those feelings long ago, deep down somewhere where they could have never disturbed him again. But he hadn’t. And he was glad about that. No matter how irritating it was, he craved it now. 

He craved to see her as often as possible, the sound of her voice, the touch of her fingers on him. Her mind, her body and everything in between had him longing, thirsting for even more proximity. He ached for that bond so much, it had become a hassle and he needed to suppress it to prevent himself from shying her away. 

But it was hard to feign composure when all he wanted was right there before him and she was so willing to accept his bid. It took all his might not to do what he most wanted and lock her up in a golden cage, where she would remain for him alone. His secret, his very own jewel. But most importantly his.

He couldn’t do that to her, he knew, she wouldn’t allow it. And he wouldn’t dare. He would never dare to add imbalance to the fragile structure they had built over the last year. She had come back to him eventually, day by day. He just needed to remind himself of that. Wait and improve his patience. Trust that she desired him as much as he did her. And by all accounts, she must have. Why else would she treat him the way she did? The idealist in him feasted on the way she acted towards him. How fearless and comfortable she was. How her mood could swing from gentle to feisty in a second, never dreading his reaction. Her honesty, which was the easiest, as well as the hardest thing to give someone, was what he most cherished her for.

Never before had he experienced something so close to perfection. The purity of emotion, so vibrant and raw it nearly hurt. But its absence was even worse, like a bottomless hole that sucked him in and ate him up from the inside. He had become addicted to the feeling and he would do anything to keep it. 

He would marry her, yes, and willingly so. He would do anything she asked from him. But if she was to leave him then, if she would take that dagger and push it into his heart, he knew it would destroy him.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

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[jamesbuchananbarnesslut]

Monster Hunter Ch. 1

Pairing: Will Ransome x Female Reader

Words: 1,516

Summary: The year was 1893 in Aldwinter Essex and William Ransome, vicar, has been battling with his towns people and the myth of monsters. Especially, after strange things keep happening in town, most recently an earthquake and even children and locals reporting the sighting of a blackwater beast. Although Will, himself doesn't believe in monsters he's been struggling to convince the town people otherwise. The problem further escalates when men of the town all begin having similar dreams and describe the same woman appearing in them. After each person has these dreams, they seem to be weaker either physically or mentally and, in most cases, have been found dead. The dreams also only started occurring after a new spinster named Y/N moved in on the outskirts of town. With all the increasing rumors, Will is forced to step in and begin to decipher what's happening especially whether he believes these things are real.  

Warnings: yes there is smut in the first piece, but it’s just with Will’s wife. Fingering and P in the V

Tiny Tag List: @venusofthehardsells @spooky1980

Notes: This story first of all wouldn’t be happening without @venusofthehardsells she was the on who first introduced me to these Tom Hiddleston photos. Which in thus created a thirst and need for a fic. But the fic is now a series! I also have not actually read The Essex Serpent and have no idea how the show is going to go, so this is my OWN interpretation and telling of his character. Please enjoy, like, reblog, and leave lots of comments!

Master List

Series Master List

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

Will's P.O.V

I had spent another long grueling day arguing with the members of my communion about whether the myths and monsters circulating our small town were real. The rumors began last summer and only thus worsened. I'm at my wits end with it all, and just need a way to qualm what the town is currently feeling. As I worked my way back into my office, I couldn't help but think that the new spinster, Y/N, on the outskirts of town had to have something to do with this all. Considering she had moved in around last summer when the blackwater beast stories first presented themselves. But now that she, herself, was appearing in men's dreams, and then a lot of those men found dead. It was suspicious and she surely has something to do with it all, maybe if not monsters and myths than some type of black magic or witchery.  

By the time I made it back to my office I couldn't help but pull out my hidden bottle of gin and pour myself a drink before I sat down. I manage to swallow the drink all in one swig and end up pouring myself another. Sitting down at my desk with the bottle, I press my fingers to my temples and hunch over the desk. Pondering what's been happening to my small town and why everything's suddenly topsy-turvy. I also can't help but think about how this is going to further affect the towns faith in God, especially thier view him. While my thoughts are still swirling, I throw back my second drink and decide to pour another.  

As if I have a chance to relax though, there's an overflowing pile of paperwork on my desk I still need to sort out. As well as a stack of mail that's been neglected for far too long. That's when I decide it's time to down my third drink and start sorting through the paperwork and at least categorizing it. By the time I finish organizing I have a stack of marriage certificates, christenings, new memberships, and even a decent amount of death certificates. The mail will have to wait until the morning I haven't been home all week; I keep falling asleep in my office or waking up somewhere in the pews. But I know my wife is beginning to worry and I should probably make my way home before I get stuck here.  

I pour myself one final drink for the road, throw it back and begin to push myself to my feet. I tuck the gin back in its hiding place within the bookshelf and begin to shut down the building while heading out. Specifically, blowing out all the candles, turning off oil lamps and locking the doors. Even in a buzzed stupor those are things I never forget.  

I stumble down the steps of the church and make it to the cobblestone street heading towards home. Even though there aren't many streetlamps providing light, there's a clear sky and a full moon making everything gleam and glisten in the dark. As I continue my march home, I pass one of the local pubs and see none other than Y/N, herself outside it. Conversing with John Smith, one of the older blacksmiths. It seems to be a deep intimate moment, that I interrupt by holding my gaze towards them too long. Catching their attention and weird glares back. I tip my head to them and continue walking, hoping I haven't soured their mood.  

By the time I make it home, I can see all the oil lamps are off and two candles going, one in my bedroom meaning the Mrs.'s is up reading or waiting for me. And one in the kitchen, she must have put leftovers out for me. How many times has that this happened this week? I don't want to disturb anybody, so I enter the house through the rear door that leads directly into the kitchen. There's a plate of cold food on the table for me, that I scarf down ravenously. With how little I've been home; I really haven't been eating either. Once I'm done, I rinse off the dishes, setting them aside to be washed in the morning and blow out the candle.  

I slowly make my way upstairs and begin to plot ways to get myself out of this argument with my wife. Maybe because the kids were still sleeping, she'd put off the spat and wait till she sent them off too school or her parents. Either way I wasn't prepared to walk in and find her sitting naked in the candlelight. It's almost like she knew I'd finally make my way home tonight. That or she's been truly waiting each night like this for my return home. Either way I didn't deserve a woman as good as her.  

Her sultry voice broke my shocked stupor, "I was beginning to wonder when I'd ever see you again."

I run my hands through my hair, a nervous habit, and work up a response, "you know, I can't rest easy until I convince everyone that this blackwater serpent isn't real. And now I have reports of Y/N appearing in men's dreams and a lot of those men begin found dead within a couple days or weeks shortly thereafter."

I must have been running my mouth because by the time I look to my wife again she is already up from the bed and stripping me of my clothing.  

"I understand that this is a huge deal honey, but you can't keep burning the candle at both ends and pushing yourself like this," she states while finishing pulling the reaming clothes from my body. "Come, join me in bed maybe if I provide my wifely duties, I can help break you out of this stump." Which is followed by her hands caressing my chest and moving up towards my neck, face and into my hair. Where she pulls my gaze to hers to get a clear look in my eyes. I know she can see how tired and stressed out I am.  

I let her pull me into bed, she makes it so I land on top of her, and I can't help but agree that now would be a good time to have sex. It also means she isn't mad or at least she's trying to amend things this way instead. I begin to kiss her and settle myself in between her legs where my member begins to harden against her. Our kissing becomes passionate, and I feel her entrance slicken. I slide my fingers along her slit and begin to spread her wetness around causing mewls to spill from her mouth into mine. Once she's decently wet, I slip a finger and then two into her, working them at a steady pace. While I move my lips to her chest and tell her she must quiet herself or else she'll wake the children in a hushed mummer.  

After I feel her cum around my finger, I work that same hand over my member, making sure to get it nice and wet. Then I line myself up with her entrance and push in slowly, while putting my hand over her mouth.  

"You just can't help yourself tonight my dear," I mumble into her ear while giving her a chance to adjust to my member in her. She bites my hand, a clear sign I need to get a move on, and I begin to push myself in and out of her tight channel. The pace isn't slow for long though and I begin pounding into her. Her whines spilling out but muffled behind my hand.  

"I know your close again, cum with me yeah?" She nods and with that I drop my hips lower changing the angle. Which immediately triggers her orgasm, causing her tight channel to milk me and pushing me into my orgasm. I pump my seed into her and then roll of to the side. Pulling her tightly into my arms I drift off into sleep thinking about Y/N, John Smith, and the rumors circulating our small town.  

#will ransome #will ransome x y/n #will ransome x you #will ransome x female reader #will ransome x reader #the essex serpent #will ransome imagine #fanfiction #will ransome fanfiction #jamesbuchananbarnesslutwrites #jamesbuchananbarnesslut writes #tom hiddelson

[redstainedsocks]

Strength or Fragility

Warnings: whump recovery, conditioned responses, traumatized whumpee, vague references to past noncon, brief thoughts of noncon happening again, isolation, fears of rejection, food mention, dehydration

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

There was a room put aside as a bedroom for him and Zach paced the floor of it until he knew the layout well enough that he could do it with his eyes closed. Not that he would—he might as well save that for if, or when, he was left blindfolded and had to fend for himself without his senses.

It was nothing special. It should have been a small office, but it now contained a bed, a set of shelves, one upright chair, and thick paper over the window in the door to give him privacy. Privacy from people he remembered with crystal clarity but who felt like strangers to him now.

Archer less so, but the others were like dream-blurry visions, waving mirages looking at him with hope like he was someone they used to know. He was almost relieved to see a handful of unfamiliar faces amongst the old, new hires who wouldn’t know him as he wouldn’t know them, and others like Tom who he knew less well and might keep out of his way, and Sasha who seemed to be avoiding him and wasn’t that a surprise she was, she was supposed to be--

He cut off the thought with the texture of the paint on the wall, running his fingers over the uneven cover of grey-ish mauve. His booted feet shuffled over the carpet tiles again and he noticed, not for the first time, that it was scratchy, and he knew it would itch and rub cruelly on his knees if he had to kneel on it.

He also knew no-one here was likely to make him kneel, or blindfold him again, and that the privacy they offered was for his own good and not so that bad things could happen in the dark. He knew all of that, logically. He knew it, but it was alien to think that way. There were two conflicting trains of thought in his head; the things he knew about normal life, about the members of his old team, about how people were treated when they weren’t being held hostage; and the things ingrained in him from years of torment and abuse.

He wasn’t sure how to navigate any of it. The thoughts and habits of being a free person had been a part of his life so much longer than his captive mindset it should have been like slipping back into a second skin. Only it was a glove that didn’t fit right anymore. He knew how to wear it, he knew its purpose, he knew the rules and expectations. He just couldn’t quite make it work, or make it natural.

They’d shown him the kitchen and the bathroom, and he knew he didn’t have to be told to go use them. In fact if he asked for permission he knew it would draw strange looks and scrutiny he didn’t want. His throat was parched and his mouth painfully dry, a headache building behind his eyes in a dull roar. But he couldn’t make himself open the door and walk down the corridor and get a drink. He knew he should, he knew how. Why couldn’t he do it?

It made him irrationally angry, like he was somehow being hard done to. That he was being tested and didn’t know how to pass the test. It was the same sort of feelings he’d had to hide in front of his captors, rage and irritation, fury and fear at getting it wrong. He wished for the surety of voices whispering in his ear and clear instructions, or pain to guide his way, but there was nothing. Nothing but thirst, and maybe that was punishment enough. A constant reminder that he had to be better at this, he didn’t have room to fail. No matter which side of the coin his flip landed on, no matter which side he placed his bets, he had to be strong enough to make his own way.

He wasn’t strong anymore though, and every hour away from the man he’d knelt at the feet at for all these last months made him less and less sure that he was doing the right thing. If he could just talk to someone, if he could just… know. If he could just not be alone.

But he was alone. So he paced, and waited, and eventually when no-one came to retrieve him he pulled the blanket off the bed and curled up in the corner and, finally, sleep overtook him.

* * *

He awoke with a start at the opening of the door, and then froze as Archer stepped into the room. The blanket was up to his chin and he let go, let it pool in his lap and opened his mouth to speak, only no sound came out.

Archer looked over him, looked at the bed, and then shook his head like he was dispelling some kind of thought. Zach couldn’t guess what impression he was making, or what kind of result it would end with. If they thought him incapable would they just send him back to some kind of recovery centre? Or toss him out on the street? Did he have a home anymore or had everything been sold off after his supposed demise?

Archer cleared his throat and pushed the door closed behind him. His face was drawn, tired, and Zach felt bad for being the cause of it. He wanted to offer some way to soothe Archer, to make up for all of it, but there was nothing he could offer that Archer would want—and nothing that, deep down, Zach wanted to give. Not to Archer, not like that.

“You know we hauled a bed up here for a reason,” Archer said, nose wrinkling in the strange half-smile he did when he was trying not to laugh at his own joke.

Zach snapped his mouth closed and pushed down his initial response which was to crawl up onto the mattress as though what Archer said was a lewd suggestion. He tried to be flippant, unsure if it would land. “I didn’t want to mess it up, I haven’t showered. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“We thought you could use some rest, you’re still healing. It’s been a few hours, we all thought you’d have taken a nap.”

So that, at least, he had done half right. “Did you… want me for something?”

“If you’re feeling up to it Bryson thought we could start the initial debriefing. Find out all the wheres and whens, ask you how all this happened.”

Suddenly the insignificance of his previous trials was plain to see. This would be the real test. His dry mouth felt even more parched.

“Zach?” Archer was on his feet, crouching nearby and Zach wondered how he missed that.

“Fine. I’m fine. I think… I need, I won’t be good without, I can do it but I just. Fuck.” He scrubbed his hand down his face, the first movement he’d allowed himself since Archer entered the room. “Dying of thirst over here,” his voice croaked at the last word, illustrating his point.

“That’s an easy fix, come on.”

Archer extended his hand and Zach took it, let himself be pulled to his feet and blinked away the spots in front of his eyes as his body adjusted to the change in posture. Touching Archer didn’t make his skin crawl and that felt like a small victory. He tucked it away in his heart, pretending he could save up enough good moments to see him through.

Once in the kitchen Archer filled a tall glass with water and held it out. Zach hesitated, his conditioned response warring with what he knew was social etiquette. He leaned forward to take the glass between his lips, waiting for Archer to tip the water into his mouth and closed his eyes as shame washed over him. Archer made some sort of noise and grabbed Zach’s hand, guided it up to the glass and curled his fingers around it.

It was another faux pas, another stain against his perfect reputation in their minds. In the same way he’d fucked up when Bryson, a man he respected more than almost any other, had appeared in his hospital room. Instead of taking the offered hand and shaking it, he’d pressed it to his trembling forehead in a semblance of a bow. It was all wrong. It showed his weakness, his embarrassment, his crushed spirit. It covered their faces with pitying looks and he knew he deserved pity and to be looked down on, but he didn’t want it.

“Take it,” Archer said, and Zach didn’t miss the wobble in his voice.

He gripped the glass, and nodded, and gulped a mouthful, then another. The glass shook in his hand and he steadied it with his other as he straightened. “Sorry. Um. Sorry? I wasn’t allowed anything that—”

“You don’t have to explain!” Archer interrupted.

“—could be broken or used as a weapon,” he finished lamely. Archer stared at him and Zach couldn’t meet his gaze. He took several smaller sips, wetting his mouth, waiting for the headache to ease and hoping his stomach didn’t protest.

“I guess… you’re not used to asking for things either?” Archer replied.

Zach shook his head.

“Okay well, the Doc said simple food for a few days. I’ll grab you something before we head to the debrief. You, look, you have a seat, and I’ll rustle up something and we’ll eat together. Okay?”

There was no protest Zach could, or wanted, to make to that. He sank into the offered chair and sat tentatively on the edge of it. Hot tears burned the backs of his eyes, threatened to spill, and he swallowed more water to try and stem the tide. He had Archer on side, Archer cared. He hoped fiercely that nothing he said or did would change that, it was the first real hope he’d had in a long time and it felt flimsy and liable to break under the strain of his wishing for it. It felt fragile, it felt like a candle flickering, just waiting for the wind to put it out.

[Tagging @haro-whumps @whumpthisway @hurting-fictional-people @lonesome--hunter happy to add or remove anyone, just let me know]

#trauma recovery whump #aftermath of trauma #whumpee/caretaker #OC whump #whump series #team whump #referenced noncon #past noncon #conditioned responses #whump recovery #spy whump #captivity whump #forced to kneel #memories of whump #blindfold mention #food mention #disordered eating #hunger #dehydration #Zach and Archer

[talkfastromance4]

Breathing Our Last Breath-- Vampire!Luke Part 2

A/N: thank you thank you thank you! For all your love and support on my vampire series!🥰 it means everything to me. The title and overall theme correlates PERFECTLY with BMTH’s song ‘One Day the only butterflies left will be in your chest as you march towards your death.’ When I first heard the song I couldn’t believe how well it fit in with the way I wanted this story to go. And once again...I apologize but the angst will be worth it trust me. Love you please don’t hate me @irwinkitten​ 

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: blood drinking, slight manic episode of the vampiric kind

To catch up:

Giving You My Soul (Part 1)

A bite (blurb)

Fangs (blurb)

Masterlist

• • • •

Him

Luke sought out the help of Michael the next morning after he and Y/N connected last night. It was after he showed her his fangs that while she was sighing his name he almost told her. He almost told her he loved her, but he couldn’t make himself do so. Cheeks flushed, hair splayed across his pillow with his bite marks staring up at him on her left breast, the words were caught between his teeth.

Saying those three words would complicate things more. Change her or keep her human? He stayed up all night wrestling with his thoughts while she slept soundly next to him. When she’d make a noise of contempt, he’d reach over and stroke her face until she relaxed, falling back into a pleasant dream.

He wrote her a note telling her of his whereabouts, gave a quick kiss to her forehead then ran to Michael’s place. He gave a swift knock to the door before bustling in only to find Michael and Kitty cuddled together against the counter.

Kitty’s legs were wrapped around Michael’s waist, their hands in his hair while Michael nuzzles against their neck. Kitty chuckles then opens their eyes when the front door snaps shut. They tap on Michael’s shoulder then says Luke’s name.

“Don’t you knock?” Michael asks turning around. His tone is accusatory, but his face is teasing, his eyes seem a brighter green than normal.

“I did, then just walked right in. Sorry to interrupt,” Luke grins. “Good morning, Kitty.”

“Morning, Luke,” Kitty laughs letting their legs fall against the cupboards. “Is Y/N with you? I can make us some breakfast.”

“No, she’s back at my place still asleep. I came to discuss something with you, Mike.”

Michael notices the change in Luke’s voice, he swallows thickly then turns to Kitty.

“How about you go take a shower and I’ll have breakfast ready for you, hm?”

“All right,” Kitty sighs slipping onto the floor. They peck Michael’s lips. “I want French toast. See you later, Luke. Tell Y/N I say hello.”

“I will,” Luke smiles at them. When he hears the bathroom door close he joins Michael at the counter who’s grabbing the breakfast essentials.

“What’s going on?”

“Are you going to change Kitty?” Luke blurts out. He tried coming up with an easy way to bring up the topic but couldn’t come up with something.

“I haven’t really thought about it or discussed it with them, why? Are you thinking of changing Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs quietly and leans against the counter.

“What brought this on?” Michael grabs the loaf of bread then moves to the fridge for eggs and milk.

“I feasted on her a couple weeks ago and now…I can’t exist without her, Mike.”

Michael sighs. “And since then you don’t want to change her but also don’t want her to die as a human…Have you talked with her?”

“No. It’s not really a conversation I want to have.”

“No one wants to have that kind of conversation,” Michael chortles cracking two eggs in a bowl. He adds a splash of milk then stirs the contents until it turns a pale yellow. He flicks on the stovetop then continues to stir. “She cares about you, too. Don’t make a choice that’s hers to make in the first place.”

“I feel selfish, asking her to make a choice between human or Vampirism and for what? Me?”

“Luke, she loves you. I know you’ve never really been in a solid relationship, but communication is key. Tell her what you’re thinking. Is this why you’ve been acting strange the last few weeks?”

“I’ve been acting strange? How?” Luke crosses his arms and becomes intent on watching Michael dip the piece of bread in the yolk and milk creation. Y/N likes her French toast with strawberries, cream, and syrup.

“You didn’t hear this from me,” Michael warns lowly, “but Y/N was telling Kitty you two haven’t really been…intimate in a while. Since you feasted now I know why. We haven’t known each other for very long but I can tell you’re pulling away, pushing the thing that scares you out of sight. But while you do that, you’re pushing her away as well.”

Luke is stunned into silence. Has he really not touched Y/N since the night he bit her? He goes through his memory quickly of the last several weeks then sees what Michael is talking about. No wonder Y/N was shocked at his sudden need of affection last night. The whole encounter felt different, something has shifted between them and he’s the cause of it.

“How can I do that without realizing it?”

“You’ve been alone for thousands of years,” Michael shrugs plopping the bread in the pan. It sizzles from the heat. “Kind of funny how I’m giving you words of wisdom, eh?”

Luke rolls his eyes but silently agrees. Michael has given him much to think about and all too quickly that becomes very dangerous. He weighs all three of his options; change her so they can be together forever, keep her human, and the third is discussing the first two options with her. The last one scares the hell out of him. He never wants to put her in danger or a place of discord.

For all of his life—human and immortal—he’s never had to worry about someone else. Hell, what he thought was courting her with the gifts he left was actually a little offensive. Then to ask her to give up her life to spend it with him? Does she love him, too?

His thoughts take over every part of him when he returns home to find her in one of his silk shirts—the teal one that contrasts nicely with her skin—making her own breakfast. His mind is elsewhere but he plays the actions well of kissing her temple and having small chat.

**

Luke hides his thoughts and emotions extremely well around Y/N for the next week. He acts normal. Kisses her, tangles his fingers in her hair and watches over her at the Bar in case Brone tried to approach. On the outside, he played his part well but on the inside he was in turmoil.

He’s been a wanderer, never staying in one place long, never getting attached to someone—human and Vampire alike. This is the longest he’s stayed in one place since Italy and he’s made a friend in Michael and found a deep love with Y/N.

He’s read of love, he even played Romeo at one point in his life. Songs are rooted from love, paintings, movies, poems. He’s observed it in many forms but has never experienced it. This is all new territory for him, waters he’s never swam in before.

Now, he’s faced with the choice to love her for the rest of her days or make her like him. Sure, he lives an extraordinary life, rubbing elbows with royals and celebrities, experiencing history firsthand. He’s seen the world change many times over while he remains the same. Frozen.

Another week goes by filled with questions and more questions. While Y/N sleeps in his bed, her hand is tucked under chin and his shirt hangs off her body, he walks. He walks through the house, examines his belongings, tickles the ivories on his piano as he passes by then he walks his grounds.

He can hear Y/N wherever he goes, the steady lull of her heart and if she wakes he’ll be by her side in a moment. She’s in no danger.

As he walks, he thinks. He imagines the life they would have had back in his time. They’d have a large estate with beautiful furniture and paintings while her closet would be filled with flowing gowns. There’d be plenty of children running the grounds. A happy life, a promised life.

His head snaps to the house when Y/N rolls out of bed and stumbles tiredly into the bathroom across the way. He races back inside taking his place back in bed just as she emerges from the bathroom.

“Where were you?” she asks thickly and falls next to him.

“I got you some water,” he says holding up a glass. He got it on his way.

She rubs her eyes then takes a few gulps before curling up next to him. She fits perfectly against him, her body molding to his shape like the perfect puzzle. Luke stays awake, asking himself a million questions but never finding one answer.

**

Luke starts to spiral as more days go by. He decides to fast on his feedings as if doing so would clear his head. His assumption would soon be wrong.

He distances himself even more from Y/N by dropping her off at her place instead of his after her shifts at the Bar. He uses the excuse that he’s remodeling and doesn’t want to risk her getting hurt or inhaling too much paint.

That’s the first lie.

While he continues to deny his thirst, he starts to go mad, spiraling down a dark place he’s never been before. He’s going to a place which started the mask mandate in the first place. Vampires wanted to exist in society but when they denied their drinking they became lustful and more dangerous for a bite. The savage ones used the form of fasting as their own kind of drug, it made them see things, feel things they haven’t before.

While he looks at his memorabilia he’s transported back in time with whatever object he’s looking at. His eyes are darkened which darkens the world around him as he’s reacquainted with his old friends. He has gallant parties with them in his trinket room, his manic laughter echoing throughout the house. To a bystander or peeping Tom, they would see he’s completely alone while ghosts of his past keep him false company.

He ignores Michael and Kitty’s calls then slips further and further from Y/N. He makes more excuses. The second lie is when he tells her he needs a break. Something has come up in Italy. An old acquaintance needs help. Y/N asks what exactly the break means, and Luke laughs at the simple question that has an even simpler answer.

“A break of us. I need space, Y/N, my feelings have changed.”

That was the second lie.

The third lie is that he’s close to his answer, but he needs a little more time. A little more time of not consuming blood and everything will fall into place. He’s not sure how many days have gone by when he reaches this realization. The lack of sleep and blood alters time. (It’s really been a whole month).

**

Luke wakes from a dream, was it really a dream? Y/N was there, and they were laying in the white sands of Cala Luna beach in Italy. He’s not sure what woke him up, but she was on his mind. Not that she hasn’t been for the last however many days. When was the last time he saw her?

He thinks of calling her but then quickly changes his mind. He ended it so he wouldn’t have to force her to make a decision between her life and him. He’s even more of a danger to her now because he’s been without blood for so long and the way she smells to him? His actions could be catastrophic but that dream…he wants to take her to Cala Luna, kiss her in the sand.

He’s made up his choice.

He searches for his phone, checks the date and time and it’s her day off from the bar so he could go and get a blood bag, replenish himself and go see her. He’s ready to open up to her, wrap her in his arms again and kiss her chest with butterfly kisses.

“The Bar,” he mutters then laughs joyously at his brilliant idea.

He decides to run there and in his crazed mind he somehow remembers to put on his mask, although it’s haphazardly placed. Plus, he’s faster than his car anyway so the faster he gets to the bar the faster he can go to Y/N.

The scents of A positive and O negative tickles his nose and burns his throat. He’s so damn thirsty. His mouth waters as he rushes to the bar and orders two bags. He finishes them in seconds, not even using the glass supplied. He feels the blood drip down his chin and Trixie eyes him cautiously as he asks for two more bags.

Halfway through his fourth, a warm body presses into his back. With the lack of blood for so many days, or weeks, drinking it now and in such a rush has him buzzed. His eyesight isn’t completely back yet, it’s as if he has dark spots clouding his vision. How he’s feeling is the equivalence of drinking alcohol and getting drunk.

Luke turns around quickly; his normally pristine vision distorts the figure in front of him. A warm hand touches his cheek, their blood is sweet with a hint of flowers. In his distorted state, his body is on a fine line of going back to normal and lingering on his blood deprived state, he knows it’s not Y/N.

“Hey, it’s all right. I know who you’re looking for,” Celeste says, but his mind alters it into a singing tone.

“Y/N?” he mumbles. Was she really here?

Celeste’s blood entices him. The blood bags are fine and all but drinking directly from a warm body is better. Being out of human contact for so long, her blood allures him tenfold.

“Yeah, she’s upstairs fixing one of the beds,” Simone sings next to him now.

“She is?” he shifts in his chair then nearly stumbles out of it at the thought of seeing Y/N. Then he’s filled with embarrassment. He can’t let her see him like this.

“We’ll clean you up,” Celeste hoists him against her body. His mind reels at the scent of her blood.

“Yeah, come on, sweetie.”

Their voices sing to him as they lead him towards the stairs. The promise of seeing Y/N allows Celeste and Simone’s help. He doesn’t quite remember the stairs being this long, his body feels heavy and he can feel the blood slosh around. Will she be disgusted seeing it on his lips?

A door opens then he’s rushed inside, his legs knocking into each other as he’s pushed against the back of a couch. He starts to giggle. Was Y/N down the hall and Celeste and Simone shove him in the nearest room to save himself from having her see him this way?

“What’s so funny?” Celeste asks brushing away a curl.

“Hiding while I’m seeking,” he giggles. The girls join in his laughter then is jacket is pulled off.

“You know what will help when you see her?”

“We heard all that happened between you two,” Celeste rubs his cheek.

“Yes, we’ve grown quite close the three of us,” Simone sighs.

“What will help? I’ll do anything,” his words slur together. He keeps blinking his eyes trying to get rid of the dark splotches.

“Feed on us, Luke,” Celeste whispers in his ear. “We can tell you’ve been fasting. Your pretty blue eyes are so dark.”

“Yeah, and you don’t want Y/N to see you like this, right?”

“No! No, no, no, no,” he shakes his head, eyes closing. “She can’t see me. I can’t hurt her.”

“Shh, shh,” Celeste hushes while Simone touches his hand. “We’ll help you…”

“Yeah, we’ve got you sweetie…”

Simone reaches for the button of his shirt while Celeste offers him her neck. In his delirium he’s back at the beach in his dream with Y/N and she’s the one offering her neck. Her blood is so sweet, and he loves her so much, he gives in to “Y/N”’s actions.

“Go on, take a bite.”

HER

Y/N received a note from Michael and Kitty to meet them upstairs at the Bar. She’s very thankful for them because after the whirlwind of confusion with Luke they really helped her out. They kept her occupied and her mind off things while also providing comfort that Luke will come around.

When she walks inside she looks to the Bar in search of Trixie, she gives her a wave, but Trixie is busy with the slew of customers. Y/N climbs the stairs then sees the room the note indicated. Y/N opens the door and is horrified by what she sees. Her stomach plummets, her mouth opens in a silent scream and her heart shatters in a million pieces.

Luke’s shirt is wide open, his mouth latched onto Celeste’s neck while Simone is on her knees in front of him.

“Y/N, Y/N…” he mumbles.

Tears sting her eyes. She’s gasping for breath while trying to speak his name. She hasn’t seen him in weeks, all this time she was hopeful he’d come back. That he would tell her what he was going through, and they could work it out together whatever it was ailing him. How could she be so naïve?

“Oh, look. We have a guest,” Celeste moans. She smiles deviously at Y/N who wipes furiously at her eyes trying to dry her tears.

“Y/N! What—” Michael’s voice appears and that pulls Luke from his stupor.

Luke shoves Celeste away, blood dripping down his chin. He gasps when he spots Y/N, falling apart in front of him. For a fraction of the smallest second, their eyes meet. He tries to say her name while tossing Simone off of him, attempting to fix his shirt and pants. Then she’s gone, running from the room and away from Luke.

“What the hell are you doing, Luke?” she hears Michael shout.

“Y/N?!”

Was that Kitty she passed? Y/N doesn’t know and keeps running, nearly stumbling down the stairs. As she runs Luke tries to get away from the two sirens who used his weakness against him. Y/N’s face sobered him, cleared his vision.

“Get the fuck out,” Michael hisses at the women. They scamper away with Luke trying to follow but Michael blocks his path. “Talk.”

Back downstairs, Y/N’s legs are shaking, her whole body is in tremors. Her heart is breaking and so is the rest of her. Trixie spots her just as Kitty catches up.

“What--?” Trixie’s eyes are wide at the sight of Y/N.

“Luke was upstairs with Celeste and Simone,” Kitty spits in anger. “Y/N, come here.”

Kitty pulls her against their chest, Y/N collapses all too easily with tears falling relentlessly from her eyes.

“Here, have her sit down. Try to catch your breath, babe,” Trixie consoles then runs for a water.

Kitty shuffles over to a chair but Y/N is resisting. She can’t be here. Not with Luke just upstairs and Celeste and Simone.

“No. T-take me h-home…I don’t wa-want to s-see him,” Y/N chokes out. Kitty glances towards the stairs but doesn’t see Luke or Michael. They nod to Y/N.

“Okay, I’ll take you home.”

“What happened?” Trixie asks on her return with a bottle of water.

As if on cue, Luke has flashed in front of them quicker than the speed of light. Kitty places their arms around Y/N protectively, guarding her from Luke and glares at him. Michael appears as well, his hand moving to Luke’s chest that is spotted in blood and still unbuttoned.

“Ask Luke,” Kitty sneers then leads Y/N out the door.

Kitty tries to console Y/N the best they can at her apartment but she’s sobbing so hard it’s hard to breathe. She gasps for breath so much that she dry heaves. Kitty holds Y/N’s face in their hands and recites a breathing technique to her. Her breathing finally picks up but her tears continue.

After a couple of hours, Y/N finally falls asleep, but it isn’t for very long. She wakes up, remembers what happened and her heart breaks all over again. She’s stuck between rose colored dreams of Luke and the dark nightmare that is her reality. She’s not quite sure which is worse to endure.

**

Days go by and she hasn’t left her bed. She’s cried herself dry and is left with her skin tight and dry. Her eyes are puffy. She’s so sleepy but she fights it off not wanting to dream of Luke. While she’s awake she wonders what she’s doing then hates herself for wanting to be with him after what she saw.

Kitty forces her to drink some water but refuses to eat. She simply has no appetite. Like her heart it’s disappeared.

On the seventh day, Michael arrives with a bag of goodies for her. While he was with Luke, Kitty and Michael were in constant communication trying to figure out exactly what had happened. When Michael discovered Luke had fasted he became so angry he shoved Luke so hard he flew out the window. Luke didn’t put up a fight, he knows he deserves way worse.

Luke begged and begged for Michael to bring him to Y/N but Michael refused, he’s done enough damage. When Luke overheard Michael discussing Y/N with Kitty and how they couldn’t get her to eat Luke jumped to her aid. He told Michael that taking a shower helps center herself and she needs a lot of blankets. Her comfort food is a warm cooked meal of chicken and mashed potatoes with brownies for dessert.

Michael stared at him in shock but heeded his advice then made his way to Y/N’s. He sits next to her on her bed, removes his mask then gives her an apologetic smile.

“Hi.”

She doesn’t say anything and continues to look out the window. He reveals the goodies in his bag, says he’ll cook her favorite food and that Kitty will help her take a hot shower.

“I want a bath,” she mutters.

“I’ll make sure it’s nice and warm,” Kitty promises then helps her from her bed.

The sun rises, the sun sets. The moon rises, the moon sets.

Her days roll endlessly together that she loses track of time. Her appetite comes back but it’s slim pickings. Her face doesn’t feel so stiff from her tears, but she still isn’t sleeping that well. Usually when she’d have a nightmare, Luke would hold her and murmur in her ear sweet things. Sometimes it would be in Italian and his words would turn into a song lulling her back to sleep.

She hasn’t returned to work, refuses to because she doesn’t want to come in contact with Luke. If she saw Celeste and Simone she knew she would claw their eyes out. Trixie is more than understanding and has banned Celeste and Simone from ever returning. Trixie made sure Y/N knew her job would be there for her when she returns and would still get paid.

She overheard Michael and Kitty saying that Luke hasn’t left the bar since that night. She wonders if he still has the blood on his face or did he clean it off? Surely Trixie wouldn’t let him sit there looking like that. She hates how she’s worried for him.

The sun rises, the sun sets. The moon rises, the moon sets.

Y/N wakes to hear Michael and Kitty talking loudly and in exasperated voices. She steps into the living room where they’re seated, Michael has his phone in his hand.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asks, their heads snap in her direction.

“It’s Luke. He’s been hurt.”

THEM

He hates himself. He let his fear take control which left him powerless. He’s sitting at the bar like he has been for the past five weeks, never leaving this spot in case Y/N walks in. He overheard Trixie on the phone with Michael that she takes as long as she needs to return.

He has half a mind to try her at her apartment but a nasty text from Kitty made him stay away. Michael would visit him frequently, drinks a blood bag with him. Michael hated seeing Luke this way, his skin is an unhealthy pallor, his eyes darkened with purple and black circles underneath.

His heart hasn’t beat in centuries, yet he takes on the appearance of what a broken heart looks like. When Luke asks about Y/N his voice is papery thin. He sounds as old as he is, thousands of years old. Fading, decrepit, frail.

Brone stalks up behind him, pushing Luke against the counter. Luke takes it but turns around slowly.

“You look like hell,” Brone laughs. “You’re really this torn up over that flower? Was she really that good in bed?”

“What do you want, Brone?” Luke croaks.

“Let’s have a little chat outside…”

Brone’s teeth sever into Luke’s flesh, his back, his shoulder, his arms. The venom doesn’t harm him, but it fills him with enough pain that he feels himself losing feeling in his body. In between bites, Brone screams at Luke to fight back. He’s waited all this time to get revenge on him for stealing away the love of Brone.

“What are you talking about?” Luke coughs out.

“Remember Lenore?”

Luke vaguely remembers the strawberry-blond woman. It was back in the early 1940’s, she was a candy striper. Luke befriended her one morning on his routine walk when her hat flew off her head. He caught it and they bonded over a new song from Glen Miller and his band.

The closer they got the more she confided in him and that’s when Brone was brought up. Luke has crossed paths with him too many times to know what Lenore was about to tell him.

“She never shared the same feelings for you,” Luke groans. He slumps to the ground against the wall, his body is starting to lock up from the venom.

“Yeah well, now I’m going to take yours from you.”

“No,” Luke hisses through his teeth. He tries to move but to no avail, the venom is quick, and he’s frozen as stone against the wall.

Brone crouches in front of him, smirking. “Oh, yes. I’ll get to see what’s so special about her to you, then I’ll feast on her. Might change her, might drink her dry. I haven’t decided yet. Catch you around, Luke.”

Luke fills with white hot anger, but he’s immobilized. He feels his eyes become heavy, the venom overtakes him, and his world goes dark.

“LUKE!”

Her voice. He hears her voice and tries to reach her but he’s floating somewhere. Somewhere that’s dark and still. Luke tries to resurface, reaching for the sound of her heart. She’s sobbing his name so close in his ear. Is she touching him? He can’t feel it. He wants to tell her to run, to get to safety.

“LU—”

He hears a commotion.  Brone’s voice and Y/N’s then a scream and a thump. Michael’s voice. Trixie’s voice. Y/N’s heart jumps erratically, her breath gasping. Luke tries to scream her name. He tries to claw his way from the darkness.

The voices blend together, he’s trying to follow along with the words, but he can’t grasp on anything quite yet. Is Y/N all right? What’s happened? Where’s Brone?

Michael’s voice warps in and out of his mind while he’s screaming on the inside.

**

It starts in his fingertips and toes. He’s gaining sensation back in his body and when he can twitch his fingers he feels Y/N’s hand next to his. Her heart is still beating but it’s staggered. Where were they? Luke smells the area and they’re in his home on his bed. His bed that still smells of her sweet floral scent.

Michael and Kitty’s voices carry from downstairs, but Luke doesn’t decipher what they’re saying. His hearing is still deep underwater in the lake of the venom. His fingers twitch some more then he brushes her skin. That excites him. He keeps twitching his fingers until he hooks them with hers, he grasps her tightly, so she’ll know he’s there.

Did Brone bite her? Is she changing? Did he just drink a lot of her blood that it’s taking her so long to recover? He wants answers but if Michael brought them to his home then she has to be all right. Right?

More time passes and his ability to move travels up his legs and arms. His eyes and mouth are still clamped shut, that’s the last place the venom reached him, so it’ll also be the last place he recovers. He flexes his finger and toes, bones cracking from being still for so long. At least he can get a firmer hold on Y/N’s hand, now he rubs his thumb over her skin.

Slowly but surely, he feels the weight on his chest disappear. His neck feels lighter and he can turn it from side to side. Not long now and he can open his eyes, he can look at Y/N and assess what’s happened. He can apologize. He can tell her he loves her. He can tell her that fasting was a terrible idea and that he was scared. He can tell her he’ll do anything to gain her forgiveness back.

He counts the time with his clock from his trinket room. It’s been two hours and his jaw goes slack. He opens his mouth and can taste Y/N’s scent in the air.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters wanting his eyes to open now. Open, open, open, open!

Two minutes and his eyes flash open, he has gained full mobility back and he crouches next to Y/N. Her eyes are closed, there’s bite marks on her arms but he doesn’t smell the venom. So why hasn’t she woken up?

“Michael!”

Michael appears.

“Finally. I was about to lose my mind. How are you--?”

“What happened?” Luke interrupts pressing his hand to Y/N’s forehead. She’s not her normal temperature.

“I’m not too sure. When I came, she was on the ground next to you bleeding. I tried to get Brone and kill him, but Trixie got him with her cross bow in his shoulder and he ran off. I would’ve gone after him, but you were frozen and Y/N…I don’t know what’s wrong. I think he fed off her, but I don’t know why she isn’t waking up,” Michael explains in a rush.

“Y/N, lovie…” Luke murmurs caressing her cheek. He kisses her hand that’s still in his, her skin cold. Her heart starts to flutter.

“…uke…” she barely utters.

“I’m right here, love, what can I do to help?” he begs cradling her face.

“Butterflies…” she exhales, and he’s confused. What about butterflies?

“Hm? Should I get you some chocolate?”

Her eyebrows pull together, a weak movement, but he notices it.

“Do you feel butterflies?” he asks gently, her thumb jerks against his hand. That must be yes. “Where are they? They’re not hurting you, are they?”

“No…take me…away…”

“They’re taking you away? Where are they taking you?”

“F…from you…”

“You have to bite her,” Michael says. Luke had forgotten he was in the room.

“What?”

“If butterflies are taking her away then I think that means she’s…she’s dying. You have to change her Luke. Now.”

Luke looks at her frantically. Her heart has staggered more but she appears fine so how--?

“Luke!”

He hovers over her, rests his forehead against hers.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry for being distant and not talking to you. I pushed you away to try and protect you and now look at you. I’m so sorry for hurting you and for Celeste and Simone…they used my befuddled mind and lack of feasting against me. You’re the only one I want, the only one I desire, the only one I love. I can change you, make you like me but only if it’s your wish, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry lovie,” he confesses in one breath.

She squeezes his hand the best she can.

“Change…please…I can’t…leave…you…” her voice barely registers a normal octave.

“Are you sure?” he whispers nudging his nose against hers.

“I love you.”

It was her most coherent sentence. Luke kisses her forehead then moves to her chest. He pulls her shirt away so he can see his bite marks from months ago when he first bit her. He kisses the spot, lips soft as the butterflies, extracts his fangs and sinks his teeth into her flesh. She lets out a shaky breath as his venom spreads through her.

When he’s expelled enough, he licks his tongue over the puncture then drags his lips towards hers. His Sleeping Beauty will sleep now while her body changes, he gave her the kiss of death that will bring her to a new life.

“Don’t go…hold me….”

Tears leak from her eyes as the venom spreads, Luke kisses them away.

“I won’t leave you. You’re going to hurt, but I’ll keep you wrapped in my arms.”

He adjusts himself so he can hold her against him, her heart leaping and jumping at different speeds. Michael mumbles something about being downstairs to tell Kitty. Luke kisses her hair, breathes her in before the pain will take over.

Thankfully, the process isn’t long. It takes about twelve hours for the body to fully change into a Vampire. He stays with her while her breathing quickens then turns shallow. He keeps holding her when she thrashes against him, begging him to take the pain away. He holds her while she screams, telling her how much he loves her.

Her screams continue after the second hour. Her body goes slack, but her voice rings out from the searing pain. Her heart rate keeps increasing.

The sun sets, the moon rises.

When the clock chimes midnight, her screams go silent and her heart comes to a full stop. Luke’s gaze hasn’t left her face and he watches, and he waits. He touches her cheek with his fingers, she flinches then relaxes when she smells him.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs. She turns towards his voice; his arms relax around her, but he doesn’t pull away.

Then, like a butterfly appearing from their cocoon, she opens her eyes to a new life.

• • • •

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