v1ctimplagued

[v1ctimplagued]

　𝖧𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. Billy is always teetering on that edge of uncertainty. On one hand, he wanted. And on the other hand, he wants to remain the owner of himself. And unfortunately caring about someone seemed to give that ownership away. Billy is decidedly set on no attachments even though he has failed it already. Jealousy, it's such a bitter bitch to deal with when there is no reason to warrant it. Billy can only turn to being petty.

Unless he is going to let him go. Dacre didn't know the words' effect on him. How could he? Billy is dead set on being as indifferent as possible while also being affected — stupidly drawn in by the clueless guy, sticking the pike of fondness through his own chest. In what world would Billy send him off to be admired by others? “You are preoccupied.” Billy reminds him, “So unless I am boring you, you are not free to go.”

There's no guile in his whiskey-brown gaze when the blonde eases back. Instead? He's easily placated by the morsel of attention. It doesn't occur to him to ask for more; Hargrove tends to be restless, and Dacre isn't one to provoke unnecessary ire, even at the worst of times. He can't help the way his eyes linger on the blonde's mouth, certainly not how he practically eats up every syllable. His tongue flicks against the corner of his own lower lip as if to catch a lingering taste of smoke.  "Wouldn't you?" soft counter, no real bite. Just a hint of temptation laced in between. 

The brunette barely registers the gaggle, and yes, despite his current fixation, he's distantly aware they congregate where he does. It's never made much sense in his opinion; he's hardly interesting when outside of a car. Still, Dacre hardly misses the contempt in Billy's tone and perks a slitted left brow. "I'm already preoccupied," they can wait, or not. "Unless you're letting me go?" If he turns to acknowledge them, he'll be otherwise engaged. It's not particularly in his nature to be dismissive or mean. The smile is there again, placating and absurdly sweet. Oh, he hardly has reason to beg, but wouldn't it be a sight to see? 

#platiinums #&. dialogue.

[v1ctimplagued]

　𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖲𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗆’𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇.  She is on the same edge of cruelty that he can be. And it’s not even that either of them are particularly bloodthirsty. Billy doesn’t want to hurt anyone but he knows what happens when mercy was shown and he spares the wrong person. Their games had shown it best. Who wants to knife someone in the back? Yet, when you don’t they can turn around and snap at you, rabid & violent; the same self-preservation flowing in you also in them. Billy knows to kill quickly and not think twice. And Salem does as well. 

Which makes her saving him all the more ridiculous. Kindnesses were not often repaid in any honorable way. He should have turned on her. He could have. But he has received so little kindness the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. They came from the same distinct. The same fuckin’ little group of misfits that lived side by side. Not friends but never enemies — why start now? The bitter truth was Billy wanted to believe in something better. In those seconds he had decided to not lash out at her in the arena for the mistake he had decided. A foolish act of rebellion against a game that was meant to kill them all. He would not fight for them. He would not kill her. And be damned his soul.

She is hell but she is heaven as well. 

Her body drives him to that precipice of pleasure. The fleeting and hungry heightened state where he wonders had any of this really happened. His fingers tightened around her waist and his face is nuzzling forward, biting at exposed collarbone. She does it so well ⸺ snatching the authority Billy haphazardly clings for, taking it for her own and making him recognize it. She had always been the one to decide and tame him. She had saved him, spared him; decidedly drawing his fate out for him. And Billy? He had only responded to that mercy with fervent and pious hands. He’d kill for her now. She was one of the few people left he could call an accomplice even if their only shared goal was survival. 

“Salem─” His fingers reflexively clench tighter, almost bruising but careful of the cut of his nails. He’s pretended until he didn’t have to. 

He'd easily call paradise hell; it's his instinctive reaction to distrust. Salem hardly begrudges him that, all they do is pace and parade in their golden cage. Sometimes she doesn't have the gall to tell him he offered up his heart on a platter the first time he refused to let her die in that arena. Others? She honeys his ears and praises him so artfully that the angels themselves would weep at the sheer poetry. Appropriately? Her mouth is also one of the things he likes about her most. Of course, it's also gotten her into trouble tonight. Among the throngs of covetous gazes and eager admirers, one stands persistent, perhaps the true bane of Billy's existence. Or at the very least? Enough of a threat, the blonde had seen fit to corner her in their would-be patron's luxurious library and right a perceived slight. 

Enrichment is hard to come by as a pampered pet, but Salem finds hers where she can. It's why she's hardly resistant when he insists on furthering their already complicated ruse with actual carnal pursuit. Though by and by? It's with less of an audience in mind. They're not so much selling it now as cementing it. All it takes is a passing glance or the idle rake of her fingers through his hair, and he's transfixed, a tactile creature at the core of him. 

The gown is a beautiful thing, on an undoubtedly more exquisite one. Much as they'd like to paint her and affix finery? Pearl stitched painstakingly to hold the slinky Champagne fabric, and digging into her back. She's still a killer. The female of the species is unflinchingly crueler than its mate. It's a testament to how he's been studying her the entire night—that he knows exactly how to pull the gown down to expose her without leaving them in the gory aftermath of strewn pearl. Steps ahead and just a touch Machiavellian she's wearing his favorite scent, dabbed delicately along her pulse points, and teasing his nose as he savors his greedy leisure. 

Her tongue dances behind her teeth, and rosy lips are curved, full, and sensuous when she's challenged. With hardly a bat of pretty lashes, Salem is aware she's the owner of a perfect pair of breasts. He says it enough when he's dizzy with pleasure and attempting to leave a mark. She's heard it from lustful passersby when she's styled in something too form-fitting. "Are you really so eager to hear it again? Won't you bruise?" He glimpses, and the weight of his stare causes a reflexive flutter around him. Snug, titillating, appeased.

Wisps of bronze and gold fall in her gaze. The darkest blue, like an ocean threatening to drown sailors on a stormy night. It's not in Salem to flinch, much less in his familiar grip, so she's momentarily pliant. Venus borne from sea foam as he catches her chin and maneuvers so his mouth is pressed against her warm cheek. Momentary pause, because the bruising snap of his hips causes long lashes to flutter, and her body to thrum. Her heel presses firm against the small of his back for purchase. "Haven't I always?" compassionate.  Lay your offering where it belongs.

He's still only a mortal boy worshipping at the apex of her thighs.

#platiinums #&. dialogue. #hunger games au tag tba #&. usfw tings.

[v1ctimplagued]

Stranger Things | 3.01 ⤷ Billy Hargrove, secret cutie pie

#&. visuals.

[v1ctimplagued]

　IF BILLY ACTUALLY WANTED TO HURT HIM…. it’d be a different story. Certainly it would hold a different ending. Instead he cannot help but be drawn to him like a moth to a flame aware that Dacre is probably used to it. That Billy’s attention isn’t anything new – probably just a different flavor of attraction. One laced with far more cyanide and cruelty. Billy tells himself he just likes pretty things, that it doesn’t matter and won’t matter; that he’s not gonna get attached to this guy he knows has the world pinning after him. He can safely and easily be detached in his attraction.

But Billy really likes the way he responds. Prettier—which ought to be a crime. Instead of kissing him again, which he really wants to fuckin’ do, he’s pulling away already. It’s painful. To not let himself continue but it’s a pool of self-abandonment. Dacre tempts him all too much. “Wouldn’t you like that?” His blue eyed countenance dotted with slight frustration. “Aren’t you going to say hi to your little admirers?” Ah, there it is. The painfully petty jealousy as his eyes shoot in the direction in question, disdained and furious.

Part of the reason he's drawn to Billy Hargrove is because he's a connoisseur of dangerous things and those similarly adjacent. Maybe it's the rush; maybe it's the fact he wasn't hugged enough as a child. It hardly matters; Dacre's loyalty once won? Is hard to shake. He's always light touch, on a gas pedal, in interaction. Well liked and lauded for his prodigious talent behind the wheel of seemingly any vehicle. Yet? There's no one he trails after but the ornery blonde. There's a hint of tease in his words, but they're earnest. Billy bites. Just not in the way he expects this time.

Instead? He closes the distance between them and tangles calloused fingers in a dark brown shag, practically dragging him down to suit. Dacre hums into the kiss, his doe brown gaze immediately lidded, as he risks another nip by flicking his tongue against a cruel mouth. Puppy soft. "You're slacking; keep it busy." A dimple in his cheek, so boyish and impossible to disregard. Yes, he's very aware he's pretty.

@v1ctimplagued (c.)

#platiinums #&. dialogue. #( billy in cali taking him to surf 🏄) #( def the prettiest boys on the beach ) #&. mobile post.

[v1ctimplagued]

❛  you always know just what i need.  ❜ --- Dacre

memes. / always accepting.

　HE CAN TELL BY TOUCH. And honestly, it's the easiest way to read Dacre. Fleetingly young, beautiful, and reckless. Billy can see the appeal when he takes a look at his plush mouth. Half the shit the other spews he wants to punch him for and the other half has him wanting to kiss away those same tears away. Dacre isn't delicate, per se. But the way his dark lashes frame his fuckin' face has Billy wanting to test that theory. He's behaved — for now. He's dragging the other male closer by his hair and bringing his mouth to his. Nothing particularly sweet about the way Billy seeks to dominate his mouth, tongue pillaging and teeth nipping. "You're prettier when you're quiet."

#platiinums #&. dialogue. #&. answered. #( i decided billy is just gonna be mean to him smh ) #( mean but also not )

[v1ctimplagued]

#&. connection — billy & peter ╱ baptize in your thighs 'til it hurts 'cause i am about to take you to church. #&. connection — billy & enzo ╱ my hopes are high & my hands are cold. i wouldn't hate having yours to hold! #&. connection — billy & buttercup ╱ breathe you in to breathe you out / savouring the air in my lungs then drown. #&. connection — billy & steve ╱ salt in the air & blood in my veins no more black clouds just colorful days.

[v1ctimplagued]

there's no doubt in my mind that if you could, then you would try to crack my ribcage open and pull my heart right through.

memes. / always accepting.

　HE DIDN'T HATE STEVE. At least not how everyone might think he had. He merely hated what Steve had represented in his life. Perfect, well-bred, stable household with a bright-eyed talented son. Billy had been so off the mark with that one it had been ridiculous he had seen Steve Harrington that way to begin with. Steve's life was just as fucked up. Near neglectful parents, absent from his life, and basically non-existent. How does one raise themselves, he wonders? And if Neil was gone would it hurt or more less than him being around? He had been wrong about Steve. So terribly fuckin' wrong.

But Steve is also wrong about him. Billy doesn't want to do him any harm — not anymore. "What good is your heart gonna do me?" He already knows about Steve. A bleedin' fuckin' heart stuck in that stage where when anyone shows him kindness or consideration he might cave and crumble. Billy isn't the soft touch he's used to. Instead, he's something else altogether. "You'd offer it over yourself and what fun is that? I'd like your heart still beatin', pretty boy."

#kingharr1ngton #&. dialogue. #&. answered.

[v1ctimplagued]

#&. headcanons. #&. musings. #&. visuals. #( truthfully how would anyone end up in billy's childhood tbh )

[v1ctimplagued]

❛  somehow, you're always on my mind.  ❜ --- Enzo

memes. / always accepting.

　BILLY PAUSES FROM HIS LUNCH, mid-bite. They’re crammed in the small staff break room. To say he hadn’t been pursuing Enzo nonstop from the moment he decided the other had an agreeable personality and was pretty solidly a good person. The doctor was so good and admirable. Infectiously so. The polar fuckin’ opposite of Billy’s soured attitude.  (He's hot too but that's not the point.)

He doesn't really know if Enzo means to be the way he is. Encouraging Billy's interest but not fully accepting or denying it. 'Cause always on his mind sure does sound pretty implicative to Billy. It's enough to send those haphazard credulous butterflies to spur in his guts all guileless and foolish. Billy would climb across the fuckin' table and kiss him right on the mouth if they were alone. But they're not and that makes it worse. How his blue eyes flicker from his mouth back to his eyes all stupidly fond and smitten. "If you keep this up I am going to make a scene in front of our coworkers and you're going to be very horrified and unable to look any of them in the eyes, Vin."

#platiinums #&. dialogue. #&. answered. #&. connection — billy & enzo ╱ my hopes are high & my hands are cold. i wouldn't hate having yours to hold!

[v1ctimplagued]

　HE DOESN'T ENJOY FEELING PLAYED. Easily plucked and enjoyed, hanging off a thread from whatever carnal abyss they danced on. Billy is already keenly aware of the self-destruction he is falling into when he allows himself a bite of her. @platiinums is beautiful, clever, but already has shown him her viciousness.

They'd cause a scene like this. It would be expected, of course. He's heard the rumors circling about them. He has indulged and encouraged half of them. They had to keep the rouse. But what's real and pretend quickly becomes blurred as things do in this situation. And he cannot deny it — when he's allowed a piece of her, he takes it so greedily it's like he's starved. She's velvety soft and sweet, akin to poison 'cause he knows it's bad for him and yet he would likely kill for more.

Billy wants to ruin her dress. He wants to snatch the pearls and fabric apart to prove some petulant point. But gods, she felt like heaven. He runs his nose along the slope of her neck, memorizing every inch of fuckin' skin and any mole or scar exposed to him. He doesn't ruin her pretty dress 'cause she has to walk out of this damned place in one piece. Instead, his hands are moving and he is gripping the hem of her neckline and drawing it down, tugging and pulling the annoying material uncaring if he causes wrinkles. Doesn't matter, he's not ripping it, right?

"Who is whose exactly?" He challenges her momentarily, eyes falling to her chest in the utmost disrespectful admiration. His hand slides up her neck and pushes her face back, chin drawn up towards him. He kisses her pretty cheek, pressing his hips in harder. "Are you going to take everything?" ╱ continued.

#platiinums #&. dialogue. #hunger games au tag tba #&. usfw tings.

[v1ctimplagued]

“Perhaps we are […] ghosts searching for ruins?”

— Mahmoud Darwish, from The Hoopoe; If I Were Another: Selected Poems (tr. by Fady Joudah)

#&. musings. #( when HE is the ruins )

[v1ctimplagued]

　He can feel it all vibrating within himself. Seconds from when he’s just going to slip out of control. He's never really had a resounding amount of it. Always plagued by impulsiveness, recklessness, and whatever desire he had. It’s always been on fire – it’s no different now. Billy’s feeling it all. It’s too much, it’s not enough. It’s the closest to werewolf he’s felt. That burning urge to get his claws into Peter, to sink his teeth where his marks could be seen, and rub his face along every bare inch of skin to make sure their smells were so entwined they couldn’t be distinguished apart. He wants and it’s catastrophically all-consuming. 

He's so high and uncertain how he’s gonna come down.

If Peter hadn’t agreed he would have lost it. Thrashed, fought, and bitten–unruly, untamed and unquestionably hurt. But he does. He does agree. Billy is his. He is Billy’s. He nudges with his face and nips the other man’s jaw. The breaking of skin doesn’t bother Billy. Not like it should. Brutality, violence, and pain had always been commonplace. This isn’t the same. It’s a reminder. A token of what Peter has already said. A promise made. He’s his. And the bite is only proof of that. 

He crashes. Billy’s eyes squeezed shut then. His body is suddenly aware of the wet sticky mess between them. How his body is on a different kind of fire and it’s almost too sensitive, too overwhelmed. He hadn’t even fuckin’ realized he had come at some point. His fingers dug into Peter’s side to keep him close and his forehead fell to the other wolf’s shoulder. His knuckles were white and his body was aching, teeth also from the urge to bite. He’s malleable in ways he hadn’t imagined. Certainly never foreseen. “Peter–“ Billy can barely think straight. It's all foggy and just the other in front of him. “We’re fuckin’ doomed.” His voice is roughened and dry, eyes flickering up in unashamed affection. “I am going to want you like this always.”

There is more wilderness running through Peter's veins than blood; it's in the set of his spine. He moves and operates with far too much ease in human form. Has never known or understood the self-consciousness innately borne in homosapiens. The werewolf finds it entertaining, certainly, but pitiful. To live and hide so much of oneself for fear of prying and judgmental eyes. Perhaps it's what he's hoping to impart most to his new charge. True freedom. The intoxicating taste of an unrestrained self. Billy is an eager pupil despite old habits; Peter finds it counts for something. 

The blond is precocious in his certitude and has been ever since he'd sunk his teeth into Peter. To his credit? The wise wolf is adjusting well. Slips into the confines of responsibility as if it were a brisk rabbit hunt rather than an eternal tether. He's no longer the skittish child who'd balked at the very idea of a pack. Is he any more eager to add to their numbers? Fuck no. But it's easy with Billy. Kid's a quick study when he's not determined to be an absolute tyrant. Minds his tail and his teeth well enough. They make a beautiful pair on a full moon, a pitch black blurr, and a tawny, giddy pup. 

His breath hitches at the catch of teeth on his shoulder. Billy's nuzzled enough of the plaid fabric back that it's bared. The mark is faint to the untrained eye, but to them? To their kind, the imprint of teeth is a claim. Sworn fidelity. "Look how gentle you are." Hips keep their eager pace, and for a moment it feels like he can't quite find purchase in yielding heat. Peter is at a loss to figure out where he ends and the blonde begins. They're moving in tandem. He can feel a thudding heartbeat keeping perfect pace with his. 

Billy obeys, touch practically reverent as he meets his dark gaze dutifully before pressing a timid kiss against the corner of his mouth, and Peter catches him flush and drags his tongue along a full lower lip before slithering past. It's easier to swallow the whines this way; he laps them up before they ever meet the air between them. He thinks he could easily lose himself to sensation and drown willingly. It's not like the blonde gives him much of a choice, looking at him like he's the moon hung big and bright amongst an endless array of stars. Absurdly pretty. 

Truth is subjective until nature decides otherwise. Peter has found himself easily overruled by fate, and as the pretty boy presses his damp forehead against his shoulder, he finds it funnier still how... welcome it feels. Like the brush of plush lips against his claim or the familiar bite of claws. His own set follow, leaving little pinpricks in sunkissed flesh as he's rewarded with honeyed affirmative. Even in ragged, breathless tones, Billy is unflinchingly steadfast.

Almost immediately? Peter's aware of hints of distress. "Yes. Yes. Yes." He snarls in pained pleasure when canines sink in, searing through him like a brand. Comfort. He must reassure.

"of course you're mine." His own teeth follow, greedy and brutal. The taste of blood draws a rumble of delight. It might as well be ambrosia on his tongue. A fine wine, he'd eagerly lap from gently cupped fingers. The werewolf can't hear anything else for the rush of ecstasy in his ears. It’s a shuddering crash of bliss through his frame as he nurses the wound, and spends himself in the blonde with a languid undulation of sinuous hips. Peter easily forgoes steady breaths in the cradle of Billy’s limbs. 

#platiinums #&. dialogue. #&. usfw tings. #&. connection — billy & peter ╱ baptize in your thighs 'til it hurts 'cause i am about to take you to church.

[v1ctimplagued]

Flayed Billy, I have been creating concepts of him for a comic but it's going slow, wish to be fast on this

[Patreon] [instagram] [Twitter] [BluSky]

#&. visuals. #( Hear me out !! ) #( if I rewrite my flayed verse to add in tentacles- ) #( we are monster fuckers out here ! ) #( 🫡🫡 )

[v1ctimplagued]

　The truth was Billy was still very young in his change. There had been a long period of bloodthirsty cruelty but a realization had dawned in. He could not indulge every gluttonous whim if he wished to survive like this. And he liked being changed more than he had anything else in his wretched existence. He was strong and no one could harm him. But it all laid upon his ability to be discreet. Discretion, carefulness, and not being an impulsive thoughtless creature. "We might be strong as shit but the fact remains we're stronger together. So there is no risk as far as I am concerned. I am makerless, you are makerless, it seems we can figure out a lot of shit together." / @alwaysanangcl

continued.

#alwaysanangcl #&. dialogue. #&. verses — billy ╱ there is nothing to be sad about. i've never been alive.

[v1ctimplagued]

　Billy did not often think about his words before they were out. They kinda just burned through him like a fire and he was left with the aftermath of their cutting edge. The hurt, harm, and destruction words alone could do often surprised him. So used to violence, to the damage, and chaos — it's second nature until it's not.

Despite everything, there were lines even Billy didn't cross. The last thing he needed to do was get into trouble with the law. Burning the school down was not an option. He didn't like any of these rich, oblivious, well-off motherfuckers. But he didn't hate them. It wasn't personal in his regard and dislike. They were given a better lot than him, and consider themselves lucky, but Billy could get over it. As long as no one got in his way.

"Arson doesn't look too good on someone's record." He says with a fleeting glance her way. Curious. He didn't think he knew her. And he knew just about everyone in this pitiful town. "I'd take my odds are skipping detention altogether."

WELL, THATS THE LAST TIME SHE WAS GOING TO OPEN HER MOUTH. the regret of even bothering came in a wave of annoyance, furrowing her brow as her dark gaze met @v1ctimplagued. in the small gathering of degenerates, they had both sat in the back of the classroom. the other kids in detention seemed to know each other, sitting in their little clusters while hawkins best tenured snored at his desk. it didnt take a genius to see that the pretty boy was pissed off. whether it was his resting state or he was missing home was still a mystery and she had no intention of playing nancy drew.

" by the look on your face and lack of friends, id guess burn the school down. we have an hour left so if you stop brooding you might still have time. " her stubbornly daring gaze didnt wavier from his even though she heard the hypocrisy of her own words. it wasnt like she had friends. everyone had their clique in this small town and she didnt fit into any of them. she was a little too odd, a little too angry, a little too blunt. so she kept to herself, counting down the months until graduation. she couldnt get expelled this time.

cont. from here

#executiioner #&. dialogue.

[v1ctimplagued]

You're going to bend, and so am I. We're going to compromise, negotiate, and distract each other. — Kate

memes. / always accepting.

　It's odd that words can make sense and seem okay in theory but also bring such a strong sense of discomfort at the notion. 'Cause sometimes Billy only hears how he is going to succumb and how he's not going to stay strong. But even that doesn't fully make sense. He knows it's not rational. After all, why would he need to be strong against Kate? She was no threat to him. She was actively trying to make things smooth and work for them.

Billy can bend, he knows he can. There was nothing inherently wrong with compromising, negotiating, and distracting with one another. It seemed healthy and that was where the problem lay. He's never had a healthy relationship with anyone — especially not romantically, soulmatey, bonded as they were.

"It sounds nice," He confesses after a moment as he shakes off the initial discomfort, "I just cannot help but feel like I will inevitably mess it up. None of this," He waves his hands as if gesturing between them, "has ever been my forte. I do not want to lean on you for so fuckin' much. I should be able to handle my own shit. Figure me out. Without dragging you into the chaos."

#platiinums #&. dialogue. #&. answered.

[v1ctimplagued]

make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face. --- Dacre ( oof.)

memes. / always accepting.

　Billy's eyelashes bat over his locked hard, unreadable gaze. He might be tempted to do just that if not for how it might ruin Dacre's face. It would be a shame, wouldn't it? It wasn't his intention to fight today. Especially, unprovoked. The energy could be used better. Something so un-Billy-like it even surprised himself to not take the bait and bite. "You're not worth the effort." He says after a moment, eyes narrowing in. "You bruise too easily, asshole."

#platiinums #&. dialogue. #&. answered.