day after the full moon. you had a thing going, i had my thing going i went to tell you and then it was... you know... a fight instead i wonder if it's my fault too like am i amplifying your sigil any?
[ And he's getting upset now, even though Theo just told him why it wasn't brought up before. Still, he should've — he had to have said something beforehand, right? (Except Dom never told him what he was doing either. Ugh.) ]
It's fucking everything up I doubt it's u How powerful are u now?
before I would try to do things and I'd have to try 150% the energy for like 20% the reward this feels like... so easy now? like how i'd imagine it feels to take adhd meds. or take off a cockring idk
[ there are no checkmarks here; the phone has been abandoned while he continues to trash his room in a severe overaction to the chat with Julian. He'd have a hard time typing with these claws, anyway. ]
[Is it a good idea to go back to close proximity with someone you know is radiating fight vibes? No, and he knows it! He fucking knows it. And yet he still packs up what he's doing and goes to find Dom, phone in his back pocket and his sense of divination leading the way. It's some foolish thought in his head that maybe he can counteract the sigil somehow - calm him down, calm it down?
He knocks on the door, but doesn't wait. He tries it immediately after, intent to enter.]
[ First something crashes against the wall near the door, deliberately missing Theo; then a growl that sounds like a human no! fighting its way out of a beast's throat, a silhouette ducking behind the massive bed to make himself as small as possible sitting on the floor. The room is a mess, redecorated by someone with more strength than self-control, more ire than the power to keep it in check. Immediately the sigil's effects permeate anyone who comes close enough to the boy on the floor, shaking because he's either cold (Dom is never cold), angry or scared. All of his exposed skin seems to have a hint of pink, human hands clutching and hiding his head with grotesque claws. ]
Y-you need to, you need—you need to leave.
[ Something off about his words, too. His fangs are getting in the way. ]
[It sounds more irritated than it should, but it's like the warm air of a just-opened stove; the sigil's energy washes over Theo almost immediately, yet he pushes through and into the room toward Dom. He tries to steady himself, as if his own magic might calm his own temper, if not helping Dom with his. He doesn't know what he's looking at at first, but he crouches low. He reaches out to touch Dom.]
No, [ A whimper-moan, twitching away from his boyfriend's touch, the voice of someone who's either been crying for too long or has held back tears so much it hurts. Dom looks deformed, too-sharp teeth sticking from the corners of his lips, dark irises covering his sclera. He's so sure Theo is going to start yelling at him, just like everybody else, start breaking whatever's left in this room, say things he doesn't mean but knows exactly how much they hurt. Wrath is never just about the anger — there has to be retribution in it, too. ] You're going to get mad. You're gonna yell at me, hurt me, and I—I'm going to hurt you too.
Even if that happens, it's not your fault. It's not -
[He's solidifying his tongue, hand to Dom's shoulder, that minty green cool breeze of magic trying to make its way into him. It won't be enough to safeguard them but for this moment he hopes it'll give them the clarity they need to connect. He's searching Dom's face, seeing the changes, wondering with a drop of his gut what it means - but most importantly:]
I'm here for you. Whatever you need from me. Yell at me, I don't care. I love you. Even if I yell back - I love you. Whatever happens, that doesn't change. You're not alone and you'll never be.
[ His heavy breathing not as sharp, letting Theo's newfound increased power work its way through, the same way Teddie's — to some extent, his mothers' — spells would, when their son felt himself getting too much out of control. There isn't talks of medication in his time like there is for someone like Theo, or the many others living in the equivalent of Saltburn's future, not its past, so it's really all he can cling to, and it's still not enough. Not right now, when Saltburn itself has taken the rot of the Wrath sigil and made it exponentially more infectious. Dom reaches across his own chest to grab Theo's arm, urgency in his quasi-mirror eyes. More than that: the threat of something that's on its last steps to becoming inevitable. ]
I want to hurt you. I've— I've wanted to hurt you for a long time. When we were dancing, every time you came here to — to fuck me. I want to hurt you. I want to see your blood and know it was me. I want to be the one who takes it from you. It keeps talking to me and I've been pushing it away, but now—
[ But now Theo is here, and the beast is half-out of Dom, gripping Theo too tight, and Sully told him to obey it. It sounds insane, it is, and it's exactly how everyone has been acting around him, so what's the difference anymore? Dom leans away from the wall, skin flushed around his eyes, probably the picture of everything Julian warned the others about. ]
[That's his immediate response - not anything in retort to what else Dom says, not immediately, but instead an incredulous repetition of his request because have you seen him lately? He's not built for brawling. And he should know better than to even entertain the idea with someone who's just openly admitted to wanting to see him hurt but if Theo did that he'd really never have gotten laid in a half hundred lives at all, so.
He tries to funnel more of his energy but it's like... it hits a wall, so far as the sigil's concerned. He can work around the edges, act like the smallest breeze on a hot day, but it's not really capable of bringing down the temperature. Whether that's due to his inexperience or the fact this magic is of the house, and thus... impenetrable.]
I'm not going to fight you, I'll look stupid.
[Said with a spit of agitation, because it's hard to repel.]
... If you want to hurt me, though - go ahead. Come on.
[ There's a change in posture, black eyes staring at Theo like this is an entirely different conversation in which Dom's boyfriend is breaking his heart, piece by piece, word by word. After that moment of sincerity, unhinged vulnerability that would garner no sane person's sympathy, Dom's fallen expression twists, ugly and wounded — then entitled. The monster is crawling out of him through his teeth, eyes, hands; it's speaking and Dom is finally listening, so Theo has too as well.
Dom pushes himself off the wall, lunges at Theo to knock him on his back. Hanging on top of him, breathing hard, he presses his hand on his chest. Again: ]
Fight me.
[ So I'll win, so I'll claim you, so you'll bleed because my teeth love you so much. ]
[Theo isn't hard to push down and he isn't afraid of Dom, even though he should be - he's alert, hands up to grip Dom's arms, but he's not fearful. Maybe it's his renewed magical capabilities, maybe it's blind trust in the people he loves (that always gets him) or maybe he can see how this will play out if he leans into it. He doesn't want to fight Dom. He knows he won't win. But maybe that's the point. Dom doesn't want anything but the fight part from him, so why not let him claim victory?
... Why not try a little, too? Maybe he's not as bad at this as he thinks.
He digs his fingers into Dom's arms, hooks one leg over him and in a swift motion - tries to flip them with a twist of his body. He's not going to get anywhere with brute strength but if he can find ways around that, maybe...]
[ It does what it's supposed to — Theo's intent is to flip so he does, perhaps inserting some of Cellar's lessons into the element of surprise. Dom's back hits item no. who the fuck knows that was thrown and broken on the floor, arching his back away from the sharp pain, what would normally be a grimace something far more animalistic. Adorned with fangs and a mouth made to rip flesh off bones, he grabs Theo's face, listens to his heartbeat and wonders how fast hatred is making his blood pump. Despite what he said, the sigil is still pulsing from his skin, fueling a fight for dominance, not destruction.
Wrestling, turning them around again, Dom keeps going, crying out if Theo ever uses magic to make it hurt, but refusing to ever back down. He won't stop until he has Theo on his stomach, facing the floor to leave his nape exposed, Dom pinning him down with his weight on his lower back, dipping to smell the back of his neck, heavy breathing from exertion, from excitement. ]
Mine.
[ His to love. His to hurt. Dom opens his mouth wide, bites down to write his claim in Theo's blood. ]
[Theo would say he did give this his all, more or less. They flopped around, grappling, and he tried to remember what he knew from Cellar's lessons to keep himself from being woefully overpowered. But Dom's strength wins out, especially since post-mark removal, Theo's lost the instinctive touch of dark magic that would've by now coated his arms in scaly black and fed him strength in equal parts corruptive to the sigil's influence on Dom. Instead he just seems to pull his natural energy forth in its place, keeping his body limber, staving off any hint of tiredness during their fight.
He tries to push up from the floor with both arms, but Dom's weight is too hard to throw off - he feels the heat of his breath on his neck and pauses instinctively. He swallows hard, letting out a squeak of a moan when Dom's teeth sink into him, harder than he expects. But his body is already trying to heal it, thrumming with energy, so he's not afraid. Never would he be, even if he couldn't heal because...]
... D-Dom...
[That feels good. He's not fighting the same way - he's lax.]
[ He makes a little whine, teeth sharp and made to sink and burn and feel Theo's blood start to pool at his gums. Dom clamps down harder, clawed hands grabbing his boyfriend's shoulders, taking the lack of resistance as sweet submission.
Like he's gasping for air, Dom releases Theo's neck to look at the damage, the blood, to lament and love what he's done at the same time, wondering if this is what the wolf did the night their wards didn't work. Theo talked about it, but he was never explicit, for some reason or another. Even if he had all the details in the world, though, nothing would be a substitute for Dom remembering it himself. For actually knowing what it's like.
Just as urgently, Dom washes his tongue over the gashes healing up quickly, greedily taking back the blood that's meant to be his before Theo's magic reclaims it. Thinking over and over the word mine, meu, he marks the other man's shoulder next, just as reckless and violently needy. Mouth and chin red all over, the boy breaks through for a moment: ]
Is this what it did? Is this why I want to hurt you?
[Theo lets out a muffled cry, far from upset or fearful - it's a mix of pained and something else, a hint of self-punishment mixed in with the usual feeling that he often deserves what he gets in scenarios like this - and liking it only makes it more conflicting. Dom is licking at the wounds while they burn, a cool edge rushing in soon after, that knits the skin together and relaxes him up until Dom moves to the other side.
Why's he panting already? He laughs, too. Spectator in his own body:]
It did a lot more than that.
[Theo presses back against Dom, for a moment it's to grind his ass back up toward him - but then he's pushing his palms to the ground and trying to wrench free of him. Is he, though? Or is he just trying to get Dom to exert a little more of that possessive force? He feels a surge of twisted, horny wrath going through him. It makes him clench his teeth. Makes him want to sink his nails back into Dom, too.]
[ It's fascinating, infuriating, how much faster Theo heals now, free of his own sigil to become more powerful than the Teddie Dom left back home. The boyfriend he doesn't think he could do this to (but he has, he just doesn't remember, same as with Theo), but wants to imagine reacting in the same way — hurting, then asking for more. Dom's pants are already taut when he's woken up by the pressure of Theo rubbing up against him, a shaken breath through longer teeth, but then it looks like he's trying to get up to get away, so Dom's hand immediately weighs down between his shoulder blades, keeping most of him flat on the floor. ]
No, you're not getting up.
[ But then Theo tells him what he actually wants, and Dom feels the darkness of his encounter with Death's spirit flooding again. He grabs Theo's shirt, pulls it up and off his shoulders, throws it aside; curls his fingers and sinks his claws on each half of an exposed back. Sometimes, mostly in dreams, Dom gets flashes of memories from his altered state — most have been in the rooms his mothers built to keep a wolf that kept growing bigger as he aged, then to keep him and others safe. They aren't pleasant or exciting, and the ones from the fortunately few instances where he got away or didn't manage to make it back home in time are… exciting, but often not pleasant, and he can never be completely sure that they're all real. There are some he really wants to remember, though. Like the night Teddie found him and brought him home. The night Theo's wards didn't work and he had to keep a monster distracted. ]
[Theo is surprised by how fast and forceful Dom can be, when he wants to. The same tentative soul that seems almost a little too meek some days can flip a switch like this, and embrace that more animalistic side. He grunts, wriggling a little bit more but remains unsuccessful in evading the pressure Dom puts on him. He lets out a pained hiss when he feels nails dig into him, almost wishing they'd drag down the whole of his back - and then wondering what about that felt so exciting for a second.
He breathes hard, tilting his head so his cheek is on the ground and one eye can barely cast a glance back at him. He decides he wants to emphasize:]
It didn't do anything. You want me to tell you what you did.
[Another grunt.]
You want to know what you want to do. Why don't you tell me?
[ It makes his heart sink, changes Dom's expression and leads him to falter a little, one breath suddenly harder to take than the last. Dom spends so much time calling himself a monster yet craving what it can do; distances himself but lets it be the catalyst for self-hatred all the same. To say he has issues to work out is the least of it, but hearing Theo say that makes them break right back out of the box he so often shoves them into, from force back to hesitation. ]
I'm— I'm not…
[ I'm not it, but to say that would imply he believes it's true. Dom already said too much just moments ago: I want to hurt you. I want to see your blood and know it was me. I want to be the one who takes it from you. He never said it wants.
Finally, pained, guilty: ]
Because I don't remember. [ He leans back down, forehead against Theo's back, hiding for yet another confession. ] I never remember what [ A beat, ] I do, and I don't know what's real anymore. Which one of me is this supposed to be?
[ The one that hurts Theo and savors his blood in the aftermath. It can't be the part of him that's meant to not be a monster. ]
[Theo's breathing hard, feeling the weight of Dom behind him - tethered together by touch. He listens, uncertain about what he can truly do to help him - but there is only one thought that comes to mind. He doesn't rock back so much as he slowly presses back against Dom, feeling the floor dig into his knees. There's no real movement, but he wants Dom to feel him.]
Even when you're - that version of yourself, you never really want to hurt me.
[Theo says, at least - from his own perspective on it.]
You can be rough, but that's - that's your nature. I like it. I like the way you care about me, even when you're riled up. You treat me like I'm yours and I like that, Dom. So treat me like that now. Give - give it a taste?
[ There's a small groan when Theo moves into him again, a responsive shift in his hips that comes very close to being a slow thrust, painfully stiff and craving more contact. His mouth stays close to his back when he lifts his head, lips parted and fangs sticking out, needing another bite. Theo is right. Dom doesn't want to get jealous, but he gets possessive when they're together, and 'like that' is no longer enough. He can't help it. He can't leave a mark at all, either.
He bares his teeth, frustrated. His claws relent before they dig in again, a cutting clutch where Theo's neck and shoulder meet to keep him from moving. Dom remembers tasting his blood from moments ago, remembers what he tasted between that girl's legs at prom, head spinning with the desire he struggled with back then and what he sees now; he gives Theo what they both want and punishes him at the same time, teeth sinking deep, anchored in flesh, making a low noise in his throat. He doesn't relax his jaw when he pulls away, tearing skin, panting while his mouth drips with blood and saliva. ]
[Theo lets out a soft pained grunt when Dom's nails dig into him - the beating of his heart quickens, but so does the unrestricted flow of magic; knitting skin back together where it tears. Which helps when a moment later he lets out another pained cry from the back of his throat - feeling the heat of blood running down his neck in rivulets; metallic scent heavier in the air, strong to even Theo's nose.]
Fuck-
[Theo tries to press back against Dom again, finding this sense of - rigidity unwavering; he wants to hurt him back, wants him to feel what he feels. That sigil might a well be burning itself into Theo's skin, mixed with a sweetly masochistic whimper at being at Dom's mercy.]
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What?
When did that happen?
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you had a thing going, i had my thing going
i went to tell you and then it was... you know... a fight instead
i wonder if it's my fault too
like am i amplifying your sigil any?
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It's fucking everything up
I doubt it's u
How powerful are u now?
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before I would try to do things and I'd have to try 150% the energy for like 20% the reward
this feels like... so easy now? like how i'd imagine it feels to take adhd meds. or take off a cockring idk
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babe?
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He knocks on the door, but doesn't wait. He tries it immediately after, intent to enter.]
Dom?
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Y-you need to, you need—you need to leave.
[ Something off about his words, too. His fangs are getting in the way. ]
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[It sounds more irritated than it should, but it's like the warm air of a just-opened stove; the sigil's energy washes over Theo almost immediately, yet he pushes through and into the room toward Dom. He tries to steady himself, as if his own magic might calm his own temper, if not helping Dom with his. He doesn't know what he's looking at at first, but he crouches low. He reaches out to touch Dom.]
I'm not leaving, Dom. I'm here for you.
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[He's solidifying his tongue, hand to Dom's shoulder, that minty green cool breeze of magic trying to make its way into him. It won't be enough to safeguard them but for this moment he hopes it'll give them the clarity they need to connect. He's searching Dom's face, seeing the changes, wondering with a drop of his gut what it means - but most importantly:]
I'm here for you. Whatever you need from me. Yell at me, I don't care. I love you. Even if I yell back - I love you. Whatever happens, that doesn't change. You're not alone and you'll never be.
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[ His heavy breathing not as sharp, letting Theo's newfound increased power work its way through, the same way Teddie's — to some extent, his mothers' — spells would, when their son felt himself getting too much out of control. There isn't talks of medication in his time like there is for someone like Theo, or the many others living in the equivalent of Saltburn's future, not its past, so it's really all he can cling to, and it's still not enough. Not right now, when Saltburn itself has taken the rot of the Wrath sigil and made it exponentially more infectious. Dom reaches across his own chest to grab Theo's arm, urgency in his quasi-mirror eyes. More than that: the threat of something that's on its last steps to becoming inevitable. ]
I want to hurt you. I've— I've wanted to hurt you for a long time. When we were dancing, every time you came here to — to fuck me. I want to hurt you. I want to see your blood and know it was me. I want to be the one who takes it from you. It keeps talking to me and I've been pushing it away, but now—
[ But now Theo is here, and the beast is half-out of Dom, gripping Theo too tight, and Sully told him to obey it. It sounds insane, it is, and it's exactly how everyone has been acting around him, so what's the difference anymore? Dom leans away from the wall, skin flushed around his eyes, probably the picture of everything Julian warned the others about. ]
Fight me.
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[That's his immediate response - not anything in retort to what else Dom says, not immediately, but instead an incredulous repetition of his request because have you seen him lately? He's not built for brawling. And he should know better than to even entertain the idea with someone who's just openly admitted to wanting to see him hurt but if Theo did that he'd really never have gotten laid in a half hundred lives at all, so.
He tries to funnel more of his energy but it's like... it hits a wall, so far as the sigil's concerned. He can work around the edges, act like the smallest breeze on a hot day, but it's not really capable of bringing down the temperature. Whether that's due to his inexperience or the fact this magic is of the house, and thus... impenetrable.]
I'm not going to fight you, I'll look stupid.
[Said with a spit of agitation, because it's hard to repel.]
... If you want to hurt me, though - go ahead. Come on.
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Dom pushes himself off the wall, lunges at Theo to knock him on his back. Hanging on top of him, breathing hard, he presses his hand on his chest. Again: ]
Fight me.
[ So I'll win, so I'll claim you, so you'll bleed because my teeth love you so much. ]
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... Why not try a little, too? Maybe he's not as bad at this as he thinks.
He digs his fingers into Dom's arms, hooks one leg over him and in a swift motion - tries to flip them with a twist of his body. He's not going to get anywhere with brute strength but if he can find ways around that, maybe...]
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Wrestling, turning them around again, Dom keeps going, crying out if Theo ever uses magic to make it hurt, but refusing to ever back down. He won't stop until he has Theo on his stomach, facing the floor to leave his nape exposed, Dom pinning him down with his weight on his lower back, dipping to smell the back of his neck, heavy breathing from exertion, from excitement. ]
Mine.
[ His to love. His to hurt. Dom opens his mouth wide, bites down to write his claim in Theo's blood. ]
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He tries to push up from the floor with both arms, but Dom's weight is too hard to throw off - he feels the heat of his breath on his neck and pauses instinctively. He swallows hard, letting out a squeak of a moan when Dom's teeth sink into him, harder than he expects. But his body is already trying to heal it, thrumming with energy, so he's not afraid. Never would he be, even if he couldn't heal because...]
... D-Dom...
[That feels good. He's not fighting the same way - he's lax.]
Harder.
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Like he's gasping for air, Dom releases Theo's neck to look at the damage, the blood, to lament and love what he's done at the same time, wondering if this is what the wolf did the night their wards didn't work. Theo talked about it, but he was never explicit, for some reason or another. Even if he had all the details in the world, though, nothing would be a substitute for Dom remembering it himself. For actually knowing what it's like.
Just as urgently, Dom washes his tongue over the gashes healing up quickly, greedily taking back the blood that's meant to be his before Theo's magic reclaims it. Thinking over and over the word mine, meu, he marks the other man's shoulder next, just as reckless and violently needy. Mouth and chin red all over, the boy breaks through for a moment: ]
Is this what it did? Is this why I want to hurt you?
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Why's he panting already? He laughs, too. Spectator in his own body:]
It did a lot more than that.
[Theo presses back against Dom, for a moment it's to grind his ass back up toward him - but then he's pushing his palms to the ground and trying to wrench free of him. Is he, though? Or is he just trying to get Dom to exert a little more of that possessive force? He feels a surge of twisted, horny wrath going through him. It makes him clench his teeth. Makes him want to sink his nails back into Dom, too.]
Mark me better than that. Come on.
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No, you're not getting up.
[ But then Theo tells him what he actually wants, and Dom feels the darkness of his encounter with Death's spirit flooding again. He grabs Theo's shirt, pulls it up and off his shoulders, throws it aside; curls his fingers and sinks his claws on each half of an exposed back. Sometimes, mostly in dreams, Dom gets flashes of memories from his altered state — most have been in the rooms his mothers built to keep a wolf that kept growing bigger as he aged, then to keep him and others safe. They aren't pleasant or exciting, and the ones from the fortunately few instances where he got away or didn't manage to make it back home in time are… exciting, but often not pleasant, and he can never be completely sure that they're all real. There are some he really wants to remember, though. Like the night Teddie found him and brought him home. The night Theo's wards didn't work and he had to keep a monster distracted. ]
Tell me what it did, Teddie.
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[Theo is surprised by how fast and forceful Dom can be, when he wants to. The same tentative soul that seems almost a little too meek some days can flip a switch like this, and embrace that more animalistic side. He grunts, wriggling a little bit more but remains unsuccessful in evading the pressure Dom puts on him. He lets out a pained hiss when he feels nails dig into him, almost wishing they'd drag down the whole of his back - and then wondering what about that felt so exciting for a second.
He breathes hard, tilting his head so his cheek is on the ground and one eye can barely cast a glance back at him. He decides he wants to emphasize:]
It didn't do anything. You want me to tell you what you did.
[Another grunt.]
You want to know what you want to do. Why don't you tell me?
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I'm— I'm not…
[ I'm not it, but to say that would imply he believes it's true. Dom already said too much just moments ago: I want to hurt you. I want to see your blood and know it was me. I want to be the one who takes it from you. He never said it wants.
Finally, pained, guilty: ]
Because I don't remember. [ He leans back down, forehead against Theo's back, hiding for yet another confession. ] I never remember what [ A beat, ] I do, and I don't know what's real anymore. Which one of me is this supposed to be?
[ The one that hurts Theo and savors his blood in the aftermath. It can't be the part of him that's meant to not be a monster. ]
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Even when you're - that version of yourself, you never really want to hurt me.
[Theo says, at least - from his own perspective on it.]
You can be rough, but that's - that's your nature. I like it. I like the way you care about me, even when you're riled up. You treat me like I'm yours and I like that, Dom. So treat me like that now. Give - give it a taste?
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He bares his teeth, frustrated. His claws relent before they dig in again, a cutting clutch where Theo's neck and shoulder meet to keep him from moving. Dom remembers tasting his blood from moments ago, remembers what he tasted between that girl's legs at prom, head spinning with the desire he struggled with back then and what he sees now; he gives Theo what they both want and punishes him at the same time, teeth sinking deep, anchored in flesh, making a low noise in his throat. He doesn't relax his jaw when he pulls away, tearing skin, panting while his mouth drips with blood and saliva. ]
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Fuck-
[Theo tries to press back against Dom again, finding this sense of - rigidity unwavering; he wants to hurt him back, wants him to feel what he feels. That sigil might a well be burning itself into Theo's skin, mixed with a sweetly masochistic whimper at being at Dom's mercy.]
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