#I want people to look at me and realize that I refuse to be caged

[cielie-voss]

The guinea pig whisperer

Eddie Munson x fem!reader (and her guinea pigs)

Summary: When your family needs your help, you turn to your best friend Eddie Munson to take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Couldn't be that difficult, right?

Warnings: use of y/n, but other than that none I think

Wordcount: 4.4k

Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps

Masterlist

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

“Okay, guys, we’ve got this,” Eddie said softly as he knelt down, trying to convince himself as much as the little creatures in front of him.

“We totally got this.”

Who was he kidding? He totally didn’t have this. What had possessed him to agree to this quest?

As the little furballs scurried back into their houses, teeth chattering in disapproval of the strange guy invading their space, Eddie leaned back against the rustling beanbag and sighed.

Eddie loved animals—really, he did. Sometimes, he even loved them more than people. But most animals didn’t seem to love him back. He was usually too loud, too hectic, too fidgety, and he ended up scaring them away.

“Come on, I’m not a bad guy,” he tried to convince the crested guinea pig that was cautiously sticking its nose out of the door, sniffling and clearly unimpressed with Eddie's presence.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, okay? You’re the one who needs special care. I’m just doing what I’ve been told,” Eddie said, as if reasoning with the little ball of fur would somehow help. Did the guinea pig even understand him? Probably not—it’s just a guinea pig. Guinea pigs couldn’t understand humans, right?

When you had asked him to take care of your guinea pigs for a few days while you were out of town, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard. Feed them a couple of times a day, refill their water bottle—how complicated could it be?

But, oh boy, was he wrong.

You were the most generous person he’d ever met, always caring for every creature that crossed your path. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always had special needs animals in your care. Abandoned rabbits, blind cats, deaf dogs, birds with deformed wings, abused animals—you always tried to give these innocent souls a place of refuge.

The other day, you got a call from your family, needing your help with your grandma’s funeral. In a panic, you reached out to Eddie, asking if he could take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Knowing Eddie’s kind nature and willingness to help, you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Elvis and the other guinea pigs in your absence.

Who could possibly refuse such a request?

Certainly not Eddie.

Before you left, you handed him a list of instructions on how to take care of the guinea pigs, especially Elvis, your oldest guinea pig who needed special attention due to his dental issues.

Veggies cut in thin slices.

He eats pretty slowly, so make sure the others don’t steal his food.

Make sure nothing gets stuck where his teeth are growing back.

Nothing complicated, right? But he hadn’t expected Elvis to be such a diva. When you led him into the living room, where the huge guinea pig cage took up half the space, the other guinea pigs had excitedly approached the glass pane enclosing the cage. But Elvis stayed at the back, laying majestically in his snuggle sack, eyeing Eddie warily, clearly unimpressed by his presence.

As soon as you left and Eddie tried to introduce himself, Elvis sprinted into one of the wooden houses, out of Eddie’s reach. Realizing this task might be more complicated than he’d thought, Eddie sat down and observed the guinea pigs for a while. Maybe they just needed to get used to his presence? Maybe they were just shy and needed to see that he wasn’t a threat?

He glanced at the list you gave him: Treats are in the drawer next to the cage.

Treats sounded like a good idea. He grabbed a handful of pea flakes and tried to lure the guinea pigs out, carefully whispering reassuring words to them as if they could understand him.

Bit by bit, the first noses peeked out of the houses, sniffing the delicious treats in his hand. But it took some more time before the first guinea pig dared to approach Eddie, sneaking up to him cautiously. Excited, Eddie held his breath, freezing like a statue so as not to scare the fragile, timid creature. Just as he was struggling to hold his breath any longer, the guinea pig grabbed one of the flakes and, with its head held high, ran back into one of the houses.

He knew he had to be patient to gain their trust, but no matter what he tried, Elvis wouldn’t come out, making the task nearly impossible.

The rest of the day, Eddie spent in the living room, switching between the couch and the bean bag next to the cage. Whenever he moved around, he made sure to be as quiet as possible. Sitting still was something Eddie wasn’t really good at—he was always fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on.

After a while, he decided to read something to them. Maybe the sound of his voice would help the piggies get used to him? At least it would help him stay still. He figured it didn’t matter what he read aloud, so he inspected the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.

“Romeo and Juliet?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for approval.

“No, maybe… What about Dracula? No, that’s probably too scary for you guys.” His eyes scanned the other titles. “Red Dragon? No, not appropriate. The Shining? Or maybe Carrie?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up one of the books and turned it around to read the blurb.

“Goddamn, these are some pretty bloody and violent books for such a gentle girl,” he muttered, surprised by your choice in literature. He put Cujo back on the shelf before finding Howl’s Moving Castle.

That might do the trick.

To lure the piggies out of their houses, he placed a bowl of thinly sliced vegetables in the middle of the cage and sat down on the bean bag, reading to them in a soft voice. But still, Elvis remained stubborn, refusing to come out of his house.

“Damn, you really are one headstrong little guy, huh?” Eddie peeked through the entrance of Elvis’s hiding place. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna make sure you get enough food.”

They locked eyes in a silent standoff—two stubborn souls, neither willing to give in. Eddie cocked his head, looking at Elvis with pleading puppy eyes.

“Come on, dude. Do it for Y/N,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, as he held out his hand, offering some pea flakes. But Elvis simply turned his back on Eddie. Groaning, Eddie leaned back into the bean bag. How was he supposed to take care of this little guy?

The next couple of hours were a trial of patience for Eddie. Bit by bit the other guinea pigs started to become comfortable around Eddie - accepting the neatly cut veggie strips he offered them in an attempt to gain their trust. They even let him touch them and ate right out of his hand after some time. But Elvis? Hell no. There was no sign he started to trust Eddie. No matter what Eddie tried - pea flakes, grapes, cucumber or even blueberries - Elvis wouldn’t even look at him.

Slowly Eddie became frustrated, even anxiously because Elvis simply wouldn’t eat anything other than hay. After countless rejections Eddie searched through your kitchen, not actually knowing what he was looking for. He let out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, about to give up, when finally he found a big bush of parsley taking up the space of the kitchen's windowsill. “Okay, one last try” he declared and gently picked a few twigs.

With the parsley in hand Eddie sat down on the bean bag again. “Hopefully this’ll work” he said before he tried to lure Elvis out of his hiding place. And miraculously it was working. Slowly Elvis’ nose peeked out of the little plushy tunnel he was hiding in. And it didn’t take long before, paw after paw, he followed the smell of the parsley in Eddie's hand.

“So you’re just like everyone else,” Eddie stated, grinning like an idiot, “Everyone is corruptible, even a guinea pig like you.” Relieved Eddie watched the little guy munch on that parsley. The little triumph filled Eddie with so much pride, he was convinced that there was nothing stopping him from successfully completing this quest. Even though Elvis was still on high alert, inspecting Eddie attentively and freezing every now and then when Eddie dared to move ever so slightly, it was another small step in the right direction, another piece of the puzzle that was earning the trust of these tiny creatures—Elvis, most of all.

Every morning, he would sit by the cage, reading softly from Howl’s Moving Castle, carefully offering treats, and speaking in his gentlest tone. The other guinea pigs had started to warm up to him, now eagerly gathering around whenever they saw or heard him coming. But Elvis remained stubborn, only occasionally poking his nose out to observe the others before retreating back into his hideaway.

Eddie found himself growing more and more determined. There was something about the challenge that made him even more committed to winning Elvis’s trust. Maybe it was because you had entrusted him with such an important task, or maybe it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in the little guy—a fellow outcast, wary of letting others in.

On the third day, a breakthrough happened. Eddie was lying on the floor next to the cage, chin resting on his hands, his voice low and soothing as he read another chapter. He hadn’t noticed at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, Elvis began to inch closer to the entrance of his wooden house. Eddie kept reading, trying not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, Elvis crept out just enough to sniff the air, his tiny whiskers twitching.

Eddie’s heart raced. He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as Elvis cautiously approached the bowl of veggies. The little guy sniffed around, eyes constantly flicking up to keep Eddie in sight. But eventually, he started to nibble on a piece of lettuce, his guard seemingly lowered. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a surge of triumph. Maybe, just maybe, they were slowly starting to understand each other.

But getting Elvis to eat in his presence was one thing; getting him to trust Eddie enough to be touched was another. Every time Eddie tried to reach out, Elvis would dart back into his house, and they would be back to square one. Frustration gnawed at Eddie, but he refused to give up. He tried everything he could think of—different treats, talking to Elvis in even softer tones, staying as still as a statue whenever the guinea pig ventured out. But nothing seemed to work.

One afternoon, after another failed attempt to coax Elvis out, Eddie slumped onto the couch, feeling defeated. He had a sprig of parsley in his hand, the latest in his arsenal of treats, but Elvis wasn’t biting—literally or figuratively. Eddie absentmindedly twirled the parsley between his fingers, thinking about what he might be doing wrong. Then, a thought struck him. He remembered how you had once mentioned that animals, especially small ones like guinea pigs, relied heavily on scent. Maybe Elvis was so attached to you because he associated your scent with safety.

Eddie searched through your apartment until he found a little cupboard in the bathroom, filled with makeup, different sorts of hairspray and a few little flacons of perfume. He stared at it for a moment, the idea forming in his mind. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? But then again, everything else had failed. What did he have to lose?

With a determined sigh, Eddie grabbed the bottle and spritzed a small amount on his hoodie. The familiar scent filled the air, a mix of something floral and earthy, like freshly cut grass. He couldn’t help but smile a little—this was so absurd it just might work.

Feeling a bit silly, but hopeful, Eddie returned to the cage. He gently placed the parsley in front of Elvis’s hideaway and then sat back, waiting. Eventually, Elvis emerged, sniffing the air as usual. But this time, something was different. His tiny nose twitched more rapidly, almost excited, and he stepped out a little farther than usual, his gaze fixed on Eddie. The guinea pig’s hesitation seemed to lessen, and to Eddie’s astonishment, Elvis slowly made his way over to him, stopping just short of where Eddie’s hand rested on the floor.

Eddie’s heart pounded as Elvis sniffed at his hand, clearly intrigued by the scent. He stayed perfectly still, allowing the little creature to take his time. Finally, with what seemed like a deep breath of resolve, Elvis nudged the parsley with his nose and then—almost miraculously—climbed into Eddie’s lap. Eddie was so shocked he barely dared to move. But Elvis, after a moment of careful observation, seemed to decide that this strange new version of Eddie was okay, settling down on his lap.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gently, he raised a hand and started to stroke Elvis’s soft fur. This time, the guinea pig didn’t flinch or run. Instead, he let out a tiny, contented squeak, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs as Eddie continued to pet him. Eddie grinned like a fool, feeling like he’d just won the lottery.

Eddie had settled into a routine with the guinea pigs over the next couple of days. He'd spend his mornings preparing their veggies, carefully slicing them just the way you had shown him, then patiently coaxing Elvis out of his hideaway with a mix of treats, soft words and the scent of your perfume. Though Elvis had finally started to warm up to him, Eddie still found himself with plenty of downtime as the guinea pigs quietly went about their business.

That afternoon, as the guinea pigs dozed off after their midday snack, Eddie found himself drawn to his guitar, which he had brought along just in case he needed something to pass the time. He hadn’t played much since he’d been focused on the guinea pigs, but the itch to strum a few chords was starting to get to him. So, he grabbed his guitar and lay down on the floor, fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.

He started with something soft, just a few random chords, not really thinking about what he was playing. The sound of the guitar strings filled the room, blending with the soft rustle of hay from the guinea pig cage. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling the familiar comfort of the guitar beneath his fingers.

But as he relaxed into the music, his fingers instinctively drifted into a familiar riff—Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The heavy, thrumming notes reverberated through the room, and Eddie couldn’t help but get into it, his fingers moving more confidently across the strings as he lost himself in the music.

He was just starting to really enjoy himself when he noticed something strange. The peaceful quiet of the room had been interrupted by a series of sharp, disapproving clicks. Eddie paused mid-riff and looked over at the cage, where all five guinea pigs were wide awake, teeth chattering in what could only be described as intense disapproval.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, half-amused, half-offended. He plucked another string experimentally, and the chattering grew louder, the guinea pigs shifting restlessly in their cage.

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What, you don’t like Metallica? I thought you guys had better taste than that." But the guinea pigs weren’t having it—every time he strummed a chord, their chatter became more insistent, as if they were staging a tiny, furry protest.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. No Metallica,” he conceded, setting his guitar aside with a grin. “Guess you’re more into the easy-listening stuff, huh?” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’m getting critiqued by a bunch of guinea pigs,” he muttered to himself, a smile still tugging at his lips.

The room fell back into a peaceful silence, the guinea pigs settling down once more as Eddie let the moment wash over him. He was still smiling, even as he turned his thoughts back to the challenge of getting Elvis to trust him completely.

A few minutes later, he picked up his guitar again, but this time, instead of metal, he gently strummed a softer melody—something calm and soothing, more to the guinea pigs' taste. The chatter subsided, and Eddie felt a small sense of victory as he noticed them relaxing again.

As the days passed, Elvis began to venture closer and closer to Eddie. The once hesitant little guinea pig now seemed less afraid of the strange man who had taken over his home. Eddie noticed the subtle changes—how Elvis would come out of his hiding spot more often, how he’d eat his veggies with less hesitation, and how he’d sometimes watch Eddie with what looked like growing curiosity.

One afternoon, after hours of reading aloud and playing soft melodies on his guitar, Eddie felt the weight of the day catching up to him. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The rhythmic sounds of the guinea pigs munching on their food, coupled with the cozy warmth of the bean bag, lulled Eddie into a sleepy daze.

Before he knew it, he had dozed off, his head resting against the back of the bean bag, his breathing slow and steady.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, Elvis had also grown sleepy. The little guinea pig had gradually moved closer to the side of the cage nearest Eddie, his tiny body finally relaxing as he curled up in a pile of hay. For the first time since you had left, Elvis drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling safe with Eddie nearby.

About an hour later, Eddie stirred awake. His neck ached slightly from the angle he’d been sleeping in, but as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the nap had been surprisingly refreshing. He turned to check on the guinea pigs, expecting to see them scurrying around or nibbling on some hay.

But then he noticed Elvis, who was still lying in the same spot, completely still. Eddie’s smile faded as a pang of worry shot through him. He leaned closer to the cage, his heart starting to race. Elvis wasn’t moving at all.

“Elvis?” Eddie called softly, tapping the side of the cage. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

There was no response. No twitch of the nose, no flutter of the ears—nothing. Eddie’s mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Was Elvis…? No, he couldn’t be. But the stillness, the lack of movement, made Eddie’s stomach twist in fear.

Panic set in as Eddie quickly reached out to gently pet Elvis’ white crest, his hands trembling. “Elvis, come on, don’t do this to me,” he murmured, trying to nudge the guinea pig gently. But Elvis remained motionless, his tiny body limp and unresponsive.

“Oh god,” Eddie breathed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Y/N’s gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, Elvis, I didn’t—”

He froze mid-sentence, his brain scrambling for a solution. Maybe Elvis was just in a deep sleep, right? Maybe he just needed a little incentive to wake up. Eddie’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—that might help.

Then he remembered the parsley. Seemingly Elvis’ favorite thing to snack.

Practically diving for the drawer, Eddie grabbed a sprig of parsley, his hands shaking as he brought it up to Elvis’s nose. “Come on, little guy,” Eddie begged, holding his breath and praying to whatever god might hear him right now. “I know you love this stuff. Just wake up, please.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Eddie’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was on the verge of full-blown panic. But then, just as he was about to lose hope, Elvis’s nose twitched. It was barely noticeable at first, but Eddie’s sharp eyes caught it. Then, slowly, Elvis’s whiskers twitched, and he took a long, deep sniff of the parsley.

Eddie nearly sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching as Elvis’s eyes fluttered open, the guinea pig groggily lifting his head to nibble on the parsley. The sight of Elvis happily munching away, casually as if nothing happened, made Eddie laugh out loud, though his laughter was shaky with the remnants of his panic.

"You scared the hell out of me, you little rascal,” Eddie said, his voice filled with both amusement and lingering relief. He gently stroked Elvis’s fur as the guinea pig chewed contentedly, seemingly unaware of the scare he’d just given Eddie.

Eddie sat back on the bean bag, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he watched Elvis eat. The little guy had just been in a deep sleep, completely comfortable in Eddie’s presence. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—Elvis finally trusted him enough to sleep so soundly, something that seemed impossible just days ago.

Eddie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he teased, though his tone was affectionate. “But hey, at least I know how to wake you up now.”

For the rest of the day, Elvis stayed close to Eddie, either nestled in his hoodie or perched on his chest as Eddie lay on the couch. They watched TV together, with Eddie flipping through channels until he found an old movie that wouldn’t be too loud or scary.

When you returned that evening, the first thing you noticed was the unusual stillness in your living room. Expecting the usual rustling of hay and the soft chattering of your guinea pigs, you tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening. As you rounded the corner, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks, your heart melting instantly.

Eddie Munson, the chaotic, metal-as-fuck guy you knew, was stretched out on your couch, his wild curls splayed out on the cushion, with Elvis nestled snugly inside his hoodie, just below his chin. The two of them were watching some cheesy sitcom, but it was clear they were both on the verge of dozing off. Elvis looked completely at ease, his tiny nose twitching as he snuggled deeper into Eddie’s hoodie.

You had to stifle a giggle, half from the absurdity of the scene and half from the warmth it brought to your chest. You almost didn’t want to disturb them, but curiosity got the better of you. “How the hell did you do that?” you whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Elvis had always been so fixated on you, never letting anyone else get near him, let alone cuddle up like that. Not even your closest friends or family had managed to gain his trust like this.

Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he turned his head to look at you. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face when he saw the look of disbelief on yours. He glanced down at Elvis, who remained contentedly curled up, his little body rising and falling with Eddie’s steady breaths. “Oh, this?” Eddie said with a playful smirk, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I found out he’s a sucker for parsley. And, well… your perfume.”

Your eyes widened as you stepped closer, leaning in to catch the familiar scent lingering on Eddie’s hoodie. Sure enough, there it was - your perfume, the one you always wore. The realization hit you like a warm wave, making your heart flutter. “You’re wearing my perfume?” you asked, half amused, half touched by the gesture.

Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? Figured if I couldn’t be you, I could at least smell like you. Gotta say, I think it’s working. Might have to start wearing this stuff all the time, I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously charming,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to disagree. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it? This little guy’s all about the Munson charm now.” He gently stroked Elvis’s fur with the back of his finger, the guinea pig letting out a contented little purr in response.

“Looks like he’s not the only one,” you muttered under your breath, though a smile tugged at your lips as you said it.

Eddie’s grin widened as he caught your words, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is that so?” he drawled, his tone light but his gaze warm.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach. “Maybe,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper.

For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the sitcom. You gently draped a blanket over Eddie and Elvis, who both looked completely content in their shared little cocoon. The sight of Eddie, usually so loud and full of energy, lying there with your favorite guinea pig snuggled up against him, melted away any lingering doubts you had about him.

“Thanks for taking care of them,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Anytime,” Eddie replied. “I kinda get it now. Why you’re so into these little guys. Elvis is pretty cool once you get past the whole ‘tiny ball of anxiety’ thing.” His voice was sincere, though the playful glint in his eye remained. “But just so you know, I’m expecting a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty here.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of bonus are we talking about?”

He grinned, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at you. “How about dinner? You know, as a thank you. And maybe you could tell me more about this perfume - I’m thinking of making it my signature scent.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Dinner, huh? I suppose I owe you that much.”

Eddie’s smile softened, his teasing fading into something more genuine. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. And Elvis, of course. We make a pretty good team.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you looked down at the two of them, the warmth in your chest spread until it felt like you might burst. Maybe there was something special here - something you hadn’t expected to find.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess dinner it is.”

xxx

I wrote this just for myself because I miss my little diva so so much. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. The picture above is one of my favorites, Elvis in his favorite blanket, sleeping on my hand.

[neverendingford]

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[laenordeservedbetter]

Thieves & Prophecies

Words: 2.6k

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Poseidon)

Synopsis: When your friends accuse Clarisse of stealing the lightning bolt, you make a choice that dooms Olympus.

Warnings: PJO EPISODE VI SPOILERS, r has anger issues, r isn't too fond of the gods, ooc!clarisse, Luke. [Let me know if I missed any.]

A/N: People say you should write to get over writer's block, so here's another Clarisse x reader. The new episode had me stressing out for Clarisse and she wasn't even there. At least we got good Percabeth scenes.

masterlist || previous work

---

You’re leaning against a wooden crate while Grover proceeds to explain why Clarisse is the lightning thief. The pounding of your heart was the only thing you made yourself hear, tuning out of the conversation. You couldn’t believe it. You refuse to believe it. Clarisse wouldn’t do something like that. Something’s wrong. They are wrong.

“Y/n?” Percy stands in front of you, looking apologetic. You meet his gaze, realizing that they must have finished talking. You don’t say anything, figuring that your conflicting emotions are visible to them. “I’m sorry about Clarisse. I know that you think she’s not capable of stealing the lightning bolt, but all signs lead to her.”

The glare that you send Percy makes him flinch. “She didn’t do it.” You claim. Percy opens his mouth to protest, but you weren’t done talking. “I know she didn’t. I’m sure of it.” You say the words with such conviction that Percy can’t help but feel bad for you. You scowl upon seeing his sympathetic look, shaking your head. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Y/n…” Grover interjects, moving to stand beside Percy. “I know that this is hard to hear since Clarisse is your—” Grover cut himself off, “But there’s no other half-blood Ares could possibly want to protect except his favorite daughter.” He says softly, trying to reason with you.

You were far past reason, however. Not when Clarisse is involved. You walk a few steps closer to them, your jaw clenching. They both take a step back, their backs hitting a combination of crates and cages. They weren’t used to seeing you like this. They’ve watched you protect them from monsters, but they haven’t experienced being on the receiving end of your wrath. It was not a good feeling.

“Say one more word about Clarisse being the lightning thief and I will make sure none of us get to the underworld in time for the solstice.”

Grover and Percy merely nodded, too afraid to argue.

You retreated to the corner furthest away from them; feeling more exhausted than you had been since the quest began. A part of you wanted to ensure that Percy completes his quest and that he clears his and your father’s name, another part wants nothing more than to protect Clarisse, but the emotion that overpowers both is your anger.

How could they all just sit there and come to that conclusion without thinking it through? Their accusation didn’t even have that much of a backbone to support it with. You were mad at yourself for not being able to convince them otherwise. You were mad at Ares for taking Grover’s bait and for not ratting out the real thief, which you probably shouldn’t say out loud. Though, at this point, you didn’t care because tomorrow morning, Percy and Annabeth were going to send an Iris Message to camp and there will be nothing you can do to stop Chiron, Mr. D, and the rest of the demigods from going after Clarisse. You needed to act and you needed to act fast.

---

As soon as Percy, Annabeth, and Grover fell asleep, you stood up and silently moved to the truck’s doors. Percy was leaning against one of the cages, his eyes peacefully shut. Sometimes, you forget that he’s still a kid. He should be enjoying his childhood, not going off fighting monsters. But unfortunately, that’s just the way life goes when you’re a half-blood, being in constant danger. Yet another reason to be mad at the gods. You shake your head, trying to ignore the pang of guilt when you think about leaving your brother. If there had been another way, you would have taken it.

You just hope Percy forgives you when all of this is over.

…Or if he survives the solstice.

You stop in your tracks, wondering if what you’re about to do is the right decision to make when Annabeth starts to stir.

It was now or never.

You continue making your way to the door, but something in the corner of your eye stops you.

The bag that Ares gave.

There was something about it that drew you in. You know you shouldn’t, but you grab the bag, opening the top zipper. There was cash, clothes, and golden drachmas, exactly what the god of war said. You had no need for cash or clothes, so you take those out. You scoop a few drachmas and place the rest on the floor, putting the coins inside the bag since it would be handier than putting it in your pockets. You sling the bag over your shoulder and bolt for the doors, the metal making a loud bang the moment you force it open. Before either one of the trio could go after you, you were already a few miles ahead – or behind, depending on which direction you’re looking from – of them.

You don’t stop running until you reach a coast. You wanted to collapse in exhaustion, but you force yourself to keep going until your feet touch the water. Sighing in relief, you close your eyes, allowing the water to give you strength. The wind was chilly tonight, darkness looming above you. The possibility of war was getting closer yet here you were, having just abandoned your brother for Clarisse.

You didn’t know what you were going to do when you reached camp. Would you try convincing Chiron that Clarisse wasn’t the culprit? Would you run away with your girlfriend? Or would you take the blame despite not having the lightning bolt yourself?

You hear a whine before you, prompting you to open your eyes. A creature with the head and front legs of a horse but with the tail of a fish appeared in front of you, tilting its head a little. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “Did my dad send you?” You asked.

Yes, my lady.

Your brows scrunch even more (if that was possible) at the term. Your hand reaches out to pet the hippocampus, the creature leaning into your touch. You were still surprised that your father, Poseidon, decided to help you. He did listen to your prayers most of the time, but you thought that he wasn’t your biggest fan at the moment, seeing how you were about to go to camp and possibly ruin his reputation. You guess you were wrong. A small smile graced its way onto your face as you mumble, “Thank you, father.” You get on the hippocampus, the creature making sure you were properly seated before it started moving.

---

The sun had completely risen by the time you reached camp. Being on a hippocampus was by far the best mode of transportation, in your opinion. You got good sleep this time. You get off of Summer (you learned that that was her name when you were trying to make conversation), your feet landing on the shore.

“Thank you, Summer. I promise I’ll give you a snack when I see you again.” You promise, smiling softly.

Summer made a noise of approval before diving back into the water.

You look towards the woods, feeling like something was about to go wrong. “You can’t back down now.” You mumble to yourself. Clarisse needed your help. This is the reason why you came back to camp. You will your feet to move, one foot in front of the other.

This wasn’t gonna end well.

---

Sneaking into camp was easy. Getting past the campers was the hard part. If they saw you, they would bombard you with questions. You can already sense the kind of questions they’d ask, the things they would say. You grit your teeth in annoyance. Everyone seemed to be doing something. Though, the number of campers in the archery practice range and the dining pavilion were smaller compared to the last time you were here. Odd. You shake your head, trudging forward, trying to look for Clarisse.

“You stupid moron! I told you. I didn’t steal the lightning bolt!”

Ah, there she was.

Your heart flutters upon hearing her voice. There was no mistaking that that was her.

You see Luke get out of the armory. You could make out a figure behind him, a girl tied against one of the tables. Your expression hardens as you stare at the Hermes cabin councilor. Before he could meet your gaze, you hide behind one of the cabins.

Anger coursed through you again. Your fists clenched, leaning your head against the structure of the Zeus cabin. You wait for a minute, then another, then another, before you feel your anger subsiding. You use the back part of the cabins in order to get to the armory, rushing past groups of campers before they could spot you.

The armory was unguarded, which was a bad decision on Luke’s part. Like seriously? The armory is the best choice you can come up with to lock up the alleged thief in? There are dangerous weapons in there. If they had caught the real thief and locked them there, it would have been a bloody day. You scowl at their incompetence, but your expression morphs into one of worry when you open the door and see Clarisse.

She glances towards you, squinting her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t have time to explain.” You march towards her and settle yourself in front of her. Her hands were tied. “Gods, what have they done to you?” You mutter, grabbing a dagger from the table above her and using it to cut the rope.

“They’re accusing me of stealing the lightning bolt, which is stupid because I didn’t do it. This must be Percy’s doing.” Clarisse grumbles, an apologetic look crossing her face after she says the last sentence. “Sorry. I know he’s your brother, but…”

“They’re wrong. I know.” You nod reassuringly. Not a second after you finish cutting the rope, Clarisse surges forward to pull you into an embrace. You laugh in surprise, pulling her closer, “Woah, there. Hi.” You close your eyes, inhaling her familiar scent. It was good to have her near you again. You let out a sigh of relief, placing your hand on her hair. “I missed you.” You say.

“I missed you too.” Clarisse replies before reluctantly pulling away. She places both of her hands on your face, as if memorizing it all over again. Her brows were scrunched as she looks at a scar that wasn’t there before you left and you found yourself wanting to ease her worries.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

She scowls. “You got hurt.”

“I’m okay now.” You insist. Before she asks follow-up questions, you try to state why you were here in the first place. “I tried to convince Percy, Grover, and Annabeth that you didn’t steal the lightning bolt, but they wouldn’t listen. So, I jumped out of the truck when they were sleeping. I got a few drachmas in case of emergencies. Then, I went to a beach, where a hippocampus appeared and brought me here. And now I’m realizing I didn’t think too far ahead because I don’t know what to do now. If I can’t convince Mr. D or Chiron that you’re innocent, I… We can run away. Yes, that we can do.”

“You did all of that for me?” Clarisse had an unreadable expression on her face. She looked like she wanted to kiss you, yell at you, and cry all at once.

Your brows furrow. “Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“But I didn’t.”

“That was really stupid.” She says.

“I know.”

“You jeopardized the quest.”

“I know.”

“You could’ve experienced your father’s wrath.”

“I know.” A small laugh escapes you.

Clarisse shakes her head, “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yes, so I’ve been told.” You roll your eyes.

“Gods, I love you.” Clarisse mumbles.

You sport a teasing grin, “Aww, you do?”

“Shut up.” She punches your shoulder playfully.

“Ouch!”

“What are you doing?”

Your playful banter came to an end when you hear Luke enter the front door, two of the kids from the Athena cabin standing behind him. You turn, stepping forward to stand in front of Clarisse. You’ve been in similar positions in the past, except she was the one protecting you. Now, it was time to return the favor.

Both Athena kids step forward on Luke’s signal, dragging both you and Clarisse outside, where there was a cluster of campers watching you.

Great, a show. Just what you needed.

“What were you doing with the lightning thief?” Luke questions.

It took a shake of Clarisse’s head to stop you from attacking him. You settled for “accidentally” stepping on his toes instead. “Clarisse is not the lightning thief.” You state. Around you, there stood at least two dozen campers. You spot Chiron and Mr. D amidst the campers and your eyes light up. “You don’t even have proof that she stole the lightning bolt, so how can you be so sure that it’s her?”

Luke ignores your question entirely. “Just give up, Y/n. Stop protecting her. You know that she stole it. We all do.”

“She didn’t steal it!” You yell, meeting Luke’s eyes. It felt like having a staring contest with a statue.

“Yeah, well, how do you know?!” His voice raises to match yours, his cold gaze almost scaring you. Almost.

You fall silent, not having a proper answer to that. Truth was, you didn’t. You could just feel it. But making choices based on feelings isn’t a good enough reason for anyone in this camp. You turn towards Chiron for help, but he doesn’t say anything. The entirety of the Ares cabin is quiet as well. That’s when it occurs to you that if they don’t speak up, there is a zero percent chance that anyone else will.

Luke appears smug, as if he had proved his point. “Exa—”

“Because I did it.”

You shock even yourself at your words, but you do nothing to take them back. You weren’t able to see any other option left. You were surrounded. If you’d try to escape with Clarisse, you weren’t making it out of camp alive. This was your last resort.

“What?” Clarisse says beside you, her voice barely above a whisper. You force yourself not to look at her. You wouldn’t be able to stand the look of betrayal on her face. You’d rather have her hating you than have her punished for something she didn’t do.

Luke scoffs, “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

You don’t break eye contact with Luke as you say the words, ignoring Clarisse’s screams of protest.

For once, Luke was taken aback. He keeps shaking his head, “No, you’re lying. Just give up already. You can’t protect her anymore.”

“I stole the lightning bolt.” You say, louder this time around.

“Miss L/n, that is a serious admission.” Chiron says, his tone grave. You could see the apprehension in his eyes. “Are you sure you stole the lightning bolt?”

“She’s bluffing.” Luke announces, but he sounds unsure.

Your bag grows heavier, as if someone placed a boulder inside it while you were talking to Luke. It was too much to carry. Naturally, you removed the bag from your shoulder, setting it down on the grass. You open the backpack’s zipper, your breath hitching when you see the thing that has been weighing it down. You pull it out of the bag, hearing gasps and words of alarm from the campers.

The bolt crackled in your hand, the color mesmerizing you. You tilt your head with a sly grin, your eyes fixed on Luke.

“Do you believe me now?”

[deadsetobsessions]

Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

-

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

-

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

-

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

-

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

-

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

[last-starry-sky]

Simon constantly teases you about how short/small you are. It upsets you, makes you feel singled out, weak, incompetent. Turns out he’s just dying to know how well you can fit him, how big his cock would look next to your hands and feet. Won’t shut up about it during sex either. A dash of mean Simon + his untapped size kink

eeeeee im gonnafuckining explode OKAY FOR REAL I WAS DYING WHEN I SAW THIS. thank u, beautiful, patient anon, for blessing me with this prompt!! I hope I did it justice!

ghost x petite!f!military!reader

(MDNI - NSFW uhhhh grossly inaccurate military stuff, creeper, bully simon :), i’m using “petite” as in “shorter and smaller than the average woman” trying to keep everything as open and vague as possible, oral, deep throating, ghost has a raging size kink, unprotected piv, also this is LONG (5.6k) 💀 i'm sorry!!! skip to the end for smut if that's all you want!❤️) 

It’s been the same fucking comments from your lieutenant all week. Day in, day out and it’s starting to wear a sore spot into your hardened skin. 

“Muzzle up. Arms tired already? ‘s a big rifle for someone your size to carry.”

“Keep pace with the group. Your short legs aren’t their problem.”

“Shoulders back! Chest out! Some’ve y’ need all the height you can get!”

All you can do is grit out a “yes, sir” or “no, sir” and push yourself even harder to keep up with the taller and stronger men and women around you. The massive Brit in charge is running your training group. While you expected this to be hard (your CO hadn’t been mincing words when he pitched it as “advanced”) but you never expected this. 

First of all, from the very beginning, he seemed to have a problem with you. Only you. There were a handful of women in the group, but you were unfortunately the shortest and smallest. Not that it bothered you. You’d spent your whole life this size. You were used to it. It was everyone else, especially the wanna-be, alpha males that flocked to the military like flies, that gave you grief over it.

The second you all lined up off the transport, you could feel his eyes on you. You tried not to stare back while the other Brit, Captain Price, gave a short introductory talk. You hadn’t heard a word of it. He stood there, flanking the captain, in a black, skin tight t shirt, with his obscenely muscled arms crossed over his ridiculously broad chest. A buzzing filled your ears as his black eyes bored into you. His stare so hot and heavy it made you sweat. His eyes were all of his face that he left uncovered, the rest was hidden by a skull mask and balaclava. You tried to ignore him, but you swore you saw the ink on his arm flexing as the captain introduced him: Lt. Ghost.

From the first training exercise, a simple one on one spar, he pulled you of all people from the women’s group to demonstrate on. What could you do? Refuse? He had at least a foot and close to one hundred pounds of muscle on you. You tried not to shake as you squared up at the opposite end of the mat. 

He told you to rush him, to “show him what you got”. Well, you tried. Once he gave signal to start, all you could do was try to fake him out. You ran at him before quickly darting to the side, trying to get behind him using your short stature to your advantage. Unfortunately for you, he was crazy agile for a large guy. He pivoted on his foot, watching you as you tried to fade to his left. You steeled yourself when he caged you in his arms, sweeping your feet off the mat. Your world was a blur until he slammed you roughly down onto the mat. Your breath was knocked from you, your vision spinning. You heard the crowd around you let out a collective “OH”. It took you a moment to realize he had you pinned. Your legs and hands held painfully down with his own. 

“‘sat all y’ got? Givin’ up already?” he grunted out with a gravely laugh while he stared down at you. He leaned down until his chest was pressed to yours, that stupid mask just grazing your face. “Or y’ got some fight left in y’? 

Hell yeah you still had some fight in you. You managed to slip out one leg from under him, jamming your knee quickly into his side. A kidney hit was dirty, you knew that. You wouldn’t dream of doing it in a normal spar, against an evenly matched partner, but he deserved it for picking on you; for picking a woman when he could have easily dominated any of the men in the room. He reacted exactly as you expected: crumpling forward in pain. You didn’t waste a second pulling your hands and legs from his grip. Another cry rang out from the crowd when you rolled out from under him, ready to jump on his back and make the pin.

“Olright, olright,” he said rubbing at his side, sitting up with a grunt before you could pin him. “I yield, y’ cheatin’ lil’ git. Next up.” 

He pointed at one of the other soldiers to come forward and take your place. The man gave you a fist bump as you left the mat and you told him “good luck”. You knew he would need it. When you turned around you saw that Ghost’s gaze had never left you. 

-

You walked back to base on Friday with your blood boiling, failure weighing heavy on your psyche after a long, hot afternoon of sniper training. You had given all you could; had put up with extra hard, extra long training, with comment after comment about your size and strength. 

Shorty. Shrimp. Rifle looks like it weights more than you. Gonna manage that?

Up early, in late everyday, almost too tired to eat and shower by the end. You had a mind to march right into Price’s office and tell him you were leaving that night. You’d made it a week, that was good enough for you. You would rather face hell from your CO back home than endure another hour of this. The second you sat down on your bunk, however, you passed out.

The exhaustion must have snapped something in your brain. You woke up a few hours later groggy and sweaty, your bunk mate snoring away. You were half on your bed with your feet still in your boots. You rolled onto your back with a groan, wiping the dried tears and dust from your cheeks. 

You let your weak arms fall over your face. You felt pathetic. You honestly wanted to just lay on your thin mattress and cry in the dark until the day started. Another day of enduring that British cunt with a superiority complex calling you short and weak, of singling you out in front of your peers, of making you question your career up to this point. He was eroding the very core of your person at this point, and you didn’t know how much long you could take it. 

You let out a sigh and, with more than a little effort, pull your sore, battered body out of bed. What you really needed was to shower, to think this out, and then find Captain Price to talk. No good would come from rushing into a decision in this state. 

You enjoyed your shower. It was nice to have all of the hot water and the whole communal space to yourself. You took your time getting dressed back into your rumbled clothes in the empty locker room. Nothing but the sound of dripping water echoing off the tile around you. 

Leaving the showers, you looked up and down the bare corridors, only enough of the overhead fluorescents left on to avoid a safety hazard. Your hair dripped onto your shoulders while you stood in the center of the hall. Price’s office had to be somewhere around here.

You wandered out of the barracks, down hall after hall of the same, painted block walls and plain tile floors, until you started seeing name plates posted haphazardly on the wooden doors. Your eyes wandered from door to door until you found what you were looking for: a sheet of 8.5x11 paper taped crookedly outside an office with Cpt. Price scrawled across the middle.

You let out a sigh of relief as you brought up your hand to knock on the door. It was almost over. The captain seemed like a reasonable man. He would surely be willing to listen to you, maybe give you some sound advice on whether you were actually cut out for this level of training. Before your hand could land on the door, a gloved hand came out from the shadows of the hall in front of you to rest above yours.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he whispered harshly.

You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. You closed your eyes in annoyance, balling your hands at your sides. Of fucking course he was here. Right at the last hurdle. Right before you could seek relief from a superior, his superior too. You let out a long breath through your nose before you opened your eyes to face him.

“I came to talk to Captain-” you started speaking with a wavering voice before he cut you off.

“Not in. Not yet, at least. Had a long night.” 

He leaned against the door, starting down at you again. God, he fucking annoyed you. You’d never had a CO that frayed at your nerves like he did. How dare he come off so cool, gripping his oversized biceps with his stupid skeleton gloves. 

You stepped back from the door. “I’ll come back when he’s in then. Sorry-”

“Can help you if you need somethin’” he interrupted you again, casually canting his hips forward, moving his hand to the door handle. 

You shook you head. While you really wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you would prefer not ending this with a disciplinary, so you bit your tongue. 

“I don’t need anything from you,” you answered with just a bit of venom.

He heard it, you were sure of it. He clicked the door open, letting it fall open to reveal the dark room inside. 

“No. I think you do, small-stuff.” When you didn’t make a move, just let another angry breath out your nose and furrow your brow deeper, he shifted to the side and pointed inside the room. “In. Now. That’s an order.”

You clenched your teeth and did as you were told. Not that you had an option now. 

-

You walked up to the desk at the back of the room. Price sure did keep his office in a state. Papers and folders were piled across his desk. A landline phone and old desktop computer were shoved to either corner of the desk. More folders and binders piled over the keyboard and hid the keypad of the phone. You heard Ghost’s boots squeak lightly on the tile behind you, then the door shut with a click. Another, soft click followed. He flipped the light switch, illuminating the spot right above you with hazy, yellow light. 

You turned to face the man who’d gone out of his way to made himself your nemesis for the past week. He silently sauntered up to you, stopping behind one of the chairs in front of the desk. You crossed your arms defensively over your chest and tried to make your face placid while he pulled the chair out. He took a seat, well, he tried too. He could barely fit his massive fame in the little chair. It groaned underneath him as he mirrored your pose, arms crossed and legs spread. 

You sat silently staring at each other before he asked, “Well?” with a roll of his shoulders. 

You picked over your words, trying to detangle everything you had thought up in the shower. Ghost bouncing his knee pulled you back to reality. It was like the threatening hiss of a rattlesnake's tail. Better to just get it out than keep him waiting.

“Do you have a problem with me?” you squeaked out, eyes on you boots. The direct route it was, then. 

“What?” he asked, confused.

You looked up at him, exhausted, eyes pleading. “Look, I know I’m short and not as strong as the other guys . . . especially the guys, but the way you talk to me-”

“Don’t have a problem with y’,” he said throwing his arm across the back of the chair, readjusting while he raked his eyes up and down your frumpy form. Probably looking for something to complain about. “If’m bein’ honest-” he started before cutting himself off and turning his head. 

You uncrossed your arms, letting them fall to your sides. “What . . .” you questioned, gesturing with your hands in front of you. “Then why do you-”

He jiggled his knee a few more times before turning back to face you. “Little thing like you,” he said darkly, so deep and low you almost didn’t hear it. He clenched his fingers on his pants as he cleared his throat. “You keep up with the rest’ve ‘em well enough. Ain’t got a problem.”

“Little thing,” you whispered, repeating him sarcastically. 

Ghost groaned at that. Honest to god groaned in front of you, sending a shiver up your spine. You froze as his heavy eyes found their way back to you. 

“Yeah. You sure are,” he said scraping his fingers down his pants. “Spunky, too. Used t’ fightin’ for your place. Like that. Makes me wonder-” he trailed off as his large eyes wandered down from your face to your chest. 

You were shocked. No way. You had to be misinterpreting this. Maybe you were still sunstroked from yesterday, because there was no way you were reading him correctly. 

“Wonder what?” you piped, blush pinching at your cheeks.

“Wonder . . .” he said rocking his head back and forth, trying to tie a sentence together. “Wonder if y’ can be sweet, too.” He let you stew in wide-eyed disbelief for a moment as he gestured at you. “Wonder what you look like underneath all that.” Your stomach clenched as he tilted his hips forward, spreading his legs wider, to palm is cock through his pants. “Wonder if it matches what I’ve imagined.”

You would be lying if it was just your stomach clenching after that shameless display.

It was crazy how it all made sense now. The constant attention. The names. You thought he was being overly hard on you, picking at you, trying to get you to drop out. You rubbed a hand over your heated face. He was a grown man (a large one, too) that was acting like a little boy with a worm on a stick, chasing the girl he liked around the playground. You thought he hated you and all this time he was actually getting off to you. You felt like an absolute moron. 

“Doesn’t have t’ leave this room. If you’re interested,” he said in that deep gravel, still trying to keep himself together. 

You let him sit in silence for a long, tortuous, moment. 

“And if I’m not?” you finally asked. 

He nodded to the door behind him with his head. “Then leave. Talk t’ Price in the morning. No harm.”

“No foul,” you finished his phrase, running your fingers over your bottom lip. 

Silence hung between you for a hot moment in the cold, stale air of the office. You had a hard time believing he would just let you go at this point. Not that you planned to, the danger intrigued you too much to walk away. This line of work had made you a wholly different animal, it’s why you were here. You ran into war zones, battlefields, hostage negotiations, the places others couldn’t run out of fast enough. You’d been dealing with the people that most couldn’t stomach, the ones that couldn’t function in civilian society, for so long that they had worn a place under your skin. This lieutenant, Ghost, he had been in this just as long, if not longer, than you. He had to feel the same. Fuck, he had be worse.     

“What . . . what do you want?” you finally managed to ramble out. 

He let out a rough hum of satisfaction. You hated how you responded to it. You rolled your thighs together and, fuck, you were wet. You let out a small, shuddering breath. You’d gone a week with no praise, no kindness, and now here he was, the big, bully Brit who’d made your life hell practically purring over you. 

He trained his hungry eyes on you and motioned up with a flick of his fingers. “Wanna see ‘em. Don’t even have’t take your shirt off.”

A part of you wondered if this was all a trick as you slowly rucked your t shirt up to expose your stomach. That would track with how your week had gone so far. He was so blatant and open though, gripping the chair beneath him like he was about to launch out of it at a moment’s notice. He groaned as you pulled your shirt up to reveal your plain black sports bra. It was nothing special, standard issue, but it kept you strapped down. Not that you really had all that much to contain. 

He ran his hand over (what you assumed) was his mouth under the balaclava. He waited a moment for you to continue before urging you forward. 

“Come on, love. Don’t get shy. Wanna see ‘em.”

You slipped your fingers underneath the wide band at the bottom, hesitating only a moment before you pulled everything, shirt included, up over your head. You stared down at your chest while you balled your clothes in your hands.

“Not much to see,” you whispered, watching your nipples perk and skin pucker under the AC.

“Fuckin’ hell” was all he said. You dared to look up. “Fuck,” he continued, “Fuckin’ . . . get over’ere. Just fuckin’ dyin’ t’ get my hands on you.”

You dropped your clothes on the floor, closing the few steps between you quickly before falling forward into his grasp. You weren’t sure if you were ready for what this desperate, mountain of a man was about to unleash on you, but fuck did it excite you. Once he had you between his legs, gloved hands scraping up your back and around your waist, testing his fingers as he held you, but he didn’t do anything but look. He stared at you like you were made of glass. 

You stared at him, too. You hadn’t been this close since he’d pinned you on the first day, and you were pretty sure you’d been half-concussed then. You could see where he had eye black painted carefully around his eyes to fill the holes in his mask. You could see his long eyelashes, clumped together with that same oily black paint. It made the whites of his eyes stand out vibrantly. His large dark irises darted back and forth over your chest. You wondered what he was planning, what he was thinking. 

He didn’t leave you wondering for long. He pressed you forward, mouthing at your nipple through the mask. You let out a short whine, pussy clenching as his large hands kneaded at your waist. The feeling was like nothing you’d felt before. The fabric between you muted the translation between his actions and your pleasure. You could feel how eagerly he bit and sucked at you, but you were denied half of it. It made you dig your fingers into his shoulders in frustration.

“Want more?” he said haggardly, pulling off of you. He tugged at your belt, not waiting for an answer. “Then get these off.”

You did your best to undo your belt and pants despite your shaking and moaning while he dove back in, working harder at your other nipple. Once you’d dropped your pants down to your ankles he pulled you forward to step out of them, wedging you into the spread of his legs. You toed out of your shoes and then he kicked everything behind you, your boots banging loudly against the steel desk. You heard papers shift and fall, but couldn’t find a reason to care. He held you, running his gloved hands over your exposed skin while you shivered in font of him in nothing but your panties. 

He palmed his cock again before fumbling around to find his belt. You heard him click it open, the metal jangling as it went slack. 

“On your knees,” he ordered breathlessly. “Wan’ see what that little mouth can do with this.” 

You complied immediately, viciously curious as to what he was packing. If the tent in his pants was any indication, you had your work cut out for you. He popped open the button of his fly and then slowly unzipped. You couldn’t see anymore through his briefs than you had in his pants, but still, you leaned forward. You curled your hands on your knees, biting your lip, willing him to give you permission. 

“Go ahead,” he said giving himself one lazy, squeezing pump.

You put your hands on his inner thighs, right above his knees, testing the waters. When he didn’t say anything, you slid your hands up his legs, a soft, swishing sound following. You stopped at his crotch, pulling yourself forward before tentatively, gently, smoothing up his clothed cock. 

He groaned, covering your hand with his, forcing you to grip his girth. Your thumb just barely met your ring finger. 

“Fuckin’-” was all he could get out before pulling your hand off. 

He used his other hand to pull his dick out before pressing your hand to his hard, burning length. You gave him another pump, feeling how the skin stretched beneath your hand, then squeezing to feel how goddamn rigid he was. The tip of his cock made your mouth water. 

It was crazy. On you knees in front of him like this, you weren’t a competent soldier, a woman who held herself with poise and respect in front of her colleagues. He wasn’t an expertly trained, battle-hardened, special operative of the British Army. You were both human. Both hungry. 

You tipped his cock toward you to lap at the underside of the head. You met his eyes just as you closed your mouth around him, sucking the salt from his slit. He shut his eyes with a groan, letting his head fall back for a moment as he reached his hand up to grip at your skull. He opened his eyes to watch as he slowly bobbed your head down his cock. 

He gripped himself at the base, forcing your mouth to take him until you met his fingers. You did. Just barely, gagging as his head slid against the roof of your mouth to the soft palate at the back of your throat. He didn’t let you pull back. Instead, he traced the inside of your lips with his thumb, drool coating his black gloves.

“Lookit’ that,” he groaned as your throat pulsed and burned around him. “Little thing takes it all s’fuckin’ well.”

He let go of your head, letting you pull off of his cock. You stared at it with heavy eyes as your head spun from lack of oxygen, it glistened with your spit in the harsh light. He gave himself another languid stroke, watching you force air into your lungs while you sat practically naked on the floor between his knees. 

“Think you can take it in that little cunt a’yours like that?” he asked, stopping his stroke at the head.

You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him. You gave him a slow nod. Any fear or paranoia you had before was long evaporated. You were wet, horny, needy. You needed him to give you something, and if he was going to give you a choice, you could do worse than getting railed until you couldn’t remember your name. You clenched, hands clawing at your thighs, as you watched him pump another stroke up that monster cock of his in front of your face before grunting out his order.

“Get up then. Against the desk.”

You scrambled up to your feet. He followed you, rising quickly from his chair to tower over you, pressing you backwards into the steel desk. Your hands reached out for purchase as he roughly gripped your thighs, throwing you on top of Price’s paper-laden desk. Folders and binders clattered to the floor, papers swirling across the tile as he shoved you down, ass right on the edge. 

He stood between your legs, hips flush to yours, his cock laying across your standard issue panties like a weapon. He pressed the weight of it against your skin with a groan, head spreading precum into your stomach. Quicker than you realized, he reached behind his back, coming back with a knife. It was almost invisible palmed in his large hand, only the tip of the blade winked from the tip of his thumb. With two quick flicks, he cut up the side of your underwear. He slid the knife back to wherever he had taken it from, like it was the most normal thing in the world, before pulling the now useless scrap of fabric from between the press of your bodies. 

He held the scrap of fabric in his hand for a minute, investigating it under the light before tossing it to the floor.

“Really are beggin’ for it, eh?” He said sliding his cock up the seam of your pussy. His easy, fluid movements as he rocked against you answered for you. “Fuckin’ wet just from that?”

You nodded, lacing your legs around his hips, trying to pull him closer. He pressed his hand into your stomach in response, squishing you against the desk hard enough to make you squirm. He pulled away enough to notch the head of his cock at your entrance.

“Needy little fuckin’ thing,” he said with a punch of his hips, nails biting into the soft skin of your stomach as his tip danced perilously on the edge of holding inside you. “Want it so fuckin’ bad? Want this inside y’?” 

He took himself in hand and watched as he pushed inside. You both groaned. You let your head fall against the desk with a dull thunk, eyes shut and legs shaking as he pushed deeper and deeper inside your slick hole. 

“Fuck.” He was breathless for the first time since you had met him. “Fuck are y’ tight. So fuckin’ small. Even gonna fit it all?” He rambled to himself as he took hold of your hips and watched himself fuck slowly in and out of you; hypnotized by the clutch of your greedy pussy pulling him in, resisting as he pulled out. 

You let out a small cry of frustration, tears pricking around your eyes. He was big, but that wasn’t the problem. You had taken your share of dick, you could take him. It was killing you how slow he was. He was lost in his own world, watching his cock slid in and out of you as you lay there silently begging for him to just fuck you already. 

“Quiet,” he whispered with a half-hearted harshness, hand trailing down to your pussy. 

You almost jumped as he began to rub a wide circle around your clit. Your slick barely dulled the rough texture of his glove. You shuddered, clenching around him, whining as he found a rhythm with his thumb and cock. Your clench punched the breath out of him. He fell over you, bracing himself with his arm. You could hear the hollow sound of his breaths behind his mask as he gave up trying to pump into your vice of a pussy. 

He nuzzled the cold plastic of his mask against your ear. “Not gonna’ last long doin’ shit like that,” he grumbled. He held himself up, pulling your face to look at him with a hand under your jaw. “Wha’d’y want?” 

You stared back at him with confusion. 

“Where d’y want it?” he clarified.

If you had a brain cell still functioning, you would have told him to pull out. It was the safer of the options he was giving you. 

But you didn’t. You moaned out, “Fuck. Inside me. Please,” like the absolute whore you had become once he’d whipped his cock out. 

Not one to question, apparently, Ghost was back in position the moment he heard you. He pulled your hips back to meet his, cock punching all the way in until you winced as the head hit your cervix. He took hold of one of your legs, hand running up the length of it, positioning it until it lay unfolded up his chest. He gripped his fingers around your ankle, starting at it as his other hand squeezed your waist.

“Lookit, fuck. Lookit that,” he said as he pistoned into you. You cut off the loud moan that he punched out of you. The change in angle was . . god it was like nothing you’d had before.  

“Like that?” he said, letting your foot dangle on his shoulder while he held your waist with both hands, driving into you mercilessly. 

If you could have answered, you would have spoke truthfully. You were sure. You would have moaned about how good it was, how he was so big and filled you so well. As it was, his powerful thrusts jarred you against the cool metal of the desk too much to do anything more than moan and hold on as more papers flooded the floor. 

“Got y’self off at all this week?” he asked, panting breathlessly.

You shook your head, a small whine of anticipation falling form your lips at the thought.

“Gonna nut just thinkin’ about you cummin’ on my cock,” he mumbled, trailing his hand back to your clit.

You let out a sad whine, bucking into his thrust as he touched you. You were close. So fucking close.

He began to circle your clit like before, finding that delicious rhythm with the pound of his hips that pulled you higher and higher, tighter and tighter, until dazzling sparks lit up your core. You reeled back with a cry, clenching his cock, arching as he worked you through your peak. 

His hand ripped away from you sooner than you’d like. He fell over you, both hands biting into the skin of your hips as he pounded into you as your pussy pulsed, any semblance of cadence or love-making gone as he chased his own high. You dug your fingers into his t shirt. The sweat drenched fabric was almost too slippery to hold on to. 

“Fuck! Too fuckin’ hot ‘n, fuck, tight. Fuck, ‘m gonna-” His weak series of sighs and groans, followed by the distinct feeling of his cock flaring inside you told you what he couldn’t.

He lay over you for a moment, panting as you both caught your breaths. You wondered if he was also stewing in the monumental realization of what the fuck you had both just done. You’d just broken so many rules. So much was at stake. He’d just cum inside a subordinate on his bosses desk, and you didn’t work for the same country. This was going to be a mess. You were sure of it. 

He pulled away from you, pulling himself out with a smothered whine. You crossed your hands over your middle as you watch him zip back up and adjust his mask. It was wild how he was back to normal within seconds. You half expected him to walk out the door and just leave you here like this. At least all of your clothes were here, save your sliced up panties. 

But he didn’t leave. He held out a hand to you, only letting you stare at it dumbly for a minute before he flicked his fingers toward himself, urging you to act. You took his hand and he pulled you up easily. He even let you slump against him after you sat up. You’d forgotten how tired a good lay made you.

Again, you expected him to leave you now that you were conscious and able to dress yourself, maybe leave you with a heavy warning (read: threat) to not talk about this. As you tried to shuffle to the side to try and get off the desk, he stopped you. His hands gripped both of your shoulders suddenly.

“The fuck y’ doin’?” he said, forcing you back in front of him.  

“Getting . . . dressed?” you answered with unease. 

“Funny,” he said with a single, dry, laugh. “You’re a funny lil’ thing, too.”

His hands skimmed down your sides before quickly seizing you by the hips, throwing you over his shoulder like a backpack. You gasped as your stomach landed on his solid shoulder, punching the air from your lungs.

“Think we’re done already?” he said, turning around. 

You watched as the desk, and the messy you had made on and around it, including your scattered clothing, circled back into view, then slipped away. He palmed a whole cheek of your ass in one hand, spreading you open enough for cold air to chill your leaking core, as he stalked toward the door. He probed a finger into your pussy, swirling the cum you felt leaking out across your folds. 

“Got a whole day off, y’know,” he said matter-of-factly as he opened the door. Completely ignoring that he had a naked woman slung over his shoulder like a caveman. “Think we should go back to mine. Relax. See what else that little cunt’ve yours can take.”

[chasing-dreamers]

Just For You, Princess

(jjk) MDNI🔞

After finding out that you were feeling insecure, Sukuna makes sure to remind you that there’s no need for that.

-

Pairing: fem!reader x husband!Sukuna

Genre: Married human Sukuna AU, 18+, smut, comfort, established relationship

Warnings: MDNI, fingering(f receiving), unprotected sex(don’t do it!), soft!Sukuna, porn with some plot, very slight angst, aftercare, he says princess a lot

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Hey! So, this is my first time posting any written work since 2019 and the first smut I’ve ever written, so please go easy on me! I have several fics I’ve either started and scrapped or just haven’t finished but somehow wrote this in a whole day! I’m very excited about this and I hope everyone enjoys!❤️

Disclaimer: I don’t own any rights to Sukuna or the JJK franchise, this is solely from my intellect and it in no means tied to anything other than my imagination.

“Princess, can you please tell me what’s wrong?” The man standing in front of you in your kitchen asked for the thousandth time since the two of you got home. He currently had you caged against the counter because he knew the moment he moved, you’d avoid him and go to sleep without talking to him about it. He refused to let another second go by without knowing what was wrong. Once you could tell him, he’d fix everything he could in an instant. Seeing you this upset was absolutely destroying him. “I don’t know what happened or what to say unless you tell me and you know that.”

You hesitated. It was stupid but it still bothered you more than it should have. Having to listen to a group of girls at Yuji’s party talk about this man and what they would do to him, knowing he had a wife (not knowing it was you). Then hearing that they couldn’t care less who she was because they had seen her and there was no way she’d be able to keep him loyal for that long… it ruined the whole rest of your night, shattering every thought and expectation you had for your relationship. Sukuna was your world, but were you enough? Would he really get bored of you? What was it about you that made them think he wouldn’t stay with you?

“Do you think about sleeping with other girls, Kuna?” You finally said just above a whisper. You kept your head down, looking towards his stomach, afraid to see the look on his face.

“Wha-“ Sukuna’s grip on the counter tightened for a split second as he tried to grasp what you were asking. Was his wife, of all people, really standing here questioning if he thought that or not?  “Why would I…You…Ring…What? Why would you ask me something like that, love?”

You looked up and saw the utter confusion in his eyes and slowly started to realize how stupid that question was. He searched your face trying to find any reason you could have. You took in a deep breath and held back tears as you answered. “Because there was an entire group of girls at Yuji’s party that were graphically detailing what they wanted from you. One of them even said that it would be easy to do because they had seen your wife and that she wasn’t worth staying loyal to and I was literally sitting right ther- “

Sukuna’s arms wrapped around you tightly and pulled you into his chest. You curled into him as you felt him bring his head down to nuzzle into your neck. “My sweet princess, there is no one else ever on my mind.” He pulled back slightly and grabbed your left hand and held it up in between the two of you. “Do you understand what this means?”

“Of course, it means I married you and…” You trailed off as you looked up and saw his knowing look.

“And that I married you, Princess.” He said sweetly. “It means that I have made a promise to devote myself to you and love you and not a single soul else.”

You nodded and gasped as he brought his mouth down to your ear, purring gently. “It also means that you are the only one I want to fuck as well. The only person I want to watch fall apart on my dick every night and make love to any chance that I can get.”

“K-Kuna.” You cried as he pushed you back up against the counter and hungrily latched his mouth to your neck. His hands ran down the sides of your body and then raked back up your thighs. He covered your body with his as he ran his tongue down your shoulder and back up. Your arms wrapped around his waist and your fingertips digging into the hard flesh on his back.

“It means that you are the one I’ve chosen to devour and consume for the rest of my life. The one I’ve chosen to relentlessly fuck in our bed every night. The one that I have to give these reminders to every time she thinks I would choose anyone else.” He grabbed the back of your thighs and picked you up as his mouth continued its attack on your soul. He carried you through your house and towards your bedroom. You clung to his desperately as he pressed you up against the wall in the hallway. You could feel his dick hardening against you as he ground his hips into yours.

“I have never wanted a single soul other than you since the day I met you, princess. If I need to keep reminding you like this, then I will happily do so.” He growled before smashing his lips into yours. Your mouths worked together, trying to express the emotions and promises swirling through the air around you. Sukuna’s tongue slipped into your mouth and you groaned at the feeling.

He hummed happily and pushed further into your mouth. You kissed his back with just as much force, wanting to show him how much you wanted, no, how much you needed this. Then he pulled you from the wall and turned into your room. He continued towards the bed, not skipping a beat in trying to devour you, nipping at your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth. You huffed as he separated long enough to toss you onto the bed and strip your clothes off. He ripped your shirt over your head, then removed your bra, then quickly removed both your jeans and panties as well. You shivered as the feeling of cool air washed over your body, but Sukuna was quick to cover your body with his own again. He kissed you again as he ran his hands over your body. He brought them up to massage your breasts and you could feel him grin against you as you moaned into his mouth. One of his hands moved to hold your waist as the other continued down to settle in between your legs. “Gotta make sure my princess is prepped for me.”

He pushed one of his fingers past your folds and slowly began to push it into you. He watched in awe as your pussy swallowed his finger. You gasped as he began thrusting it in and out of you. He head shot back up and he grinned at your as he began thrusting it faster. Soon, he added a second finger and your moans got louder. “K-Kuna. Kuna. Kuna. Kuna.” You chanted hid name as a third finger went in and he curled them up just right. He hit that spot repeatedly and just stared at his hand disappearing into your cunt over and over again.

Then your orgasm hit your like a truck and you screamed his name. He smirked at you, licking his lips as he continued to coax the rest of it out of you. The squelching noises coming from your pussy made him even harder and he had to be inside of you right now before he lost his mind. Seeing your eyes blown out and your body trembling made his own body feel hot.

He pulled his hand out and made sure you were watching as he sucked your juices from his fingers. His eyes were also already blown out as you watched him crawl back off of the bed. He grabbed the bottom hem of his short and pulled it over his head. You ogled at his body as he began discarding his pants, your eyes raking over his tattooed chest before finally resting on his cock as it sprung out of his boxers. You tried to press your thighs together but Sukuna was too fast and was in between them in an instant. His cock rubbed against you, causing you to mewl and grab for him wherever your hands could reach. “Fuck, princess, you are so fucking wet for me.”

“J-just for you S-sukuna.” You stuttered as he began rutting against your clit. The stimulation was just enough to make the heat start spreading through your body but that alone wasn’t what you wanted. “P-please..”

“Yeah? You feel that, princess. That’s just for you.” Sukuna purred into your ear as he continued grinding down onto you.

“Then give it to me, Sukuna.” I used whatever sense in your mind you had left to spit your demand out. You needed him, all of him, so desperately and couldn’t wait any longer.

“As you wish, my princess.” He growled as he pushed his dick all the way in until you could feel his balls pressing against your ass cheeks. You shrieked at the stretch and the immaculate pleasure that came with it. He held himself up on his hands and watched at your face contorted with ecstasy. Your pussy welcomed him quickly and squeezed around him as began to slowly thrust in and out of you. The moans the two of you were swallowed as he leaned back down you pull you into a passionate kiss. He moved his lips against yours sensually as he used his hands to cup your face.

He began thrusting slowly, more caught up in how it felt to kiss you in this moment, trying to pour all of his emotions into it to show you how he truly felt. The love and longing and needing and knowing you were everything he could ever want and more. The bliss in being your husband, relishing every second of it. You hummed and moaned against his lips as his hips found a sweet spot in his pace to keep your toes curled without pushing you over the edge. Just enough to keep you right at the top without spilling over just yet.

Sukuna pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, sighing deeply. “My sweet, sweet girl. Fuck, you feel so good every time.”

You moaned in response and he grinned down at you. Your hands ran up and down his back, following the contours of his muscles, locking them into your memory. “You feel so good, Kuna. I feel so full.” You panted as you began to feel the heat in your stomach intensify and your moans began to turn into whines and whimpers. “Faster…please.”

Sukuna moaned at the sound of your begging and he braced himself with his hands back on the mattress. His thrusts pick up into a very fast pace that had you mewling and begging with in coherent words. He marveled at how you looked underneath him falling apart. The best sight he could ever imagine.

Sweat begins to pour down his face as he continues a brutal pace. You feel so fucking good around him and he doesn’t want to stop. Your pussy sucks Jimin and the way he feels your walls drag along his dick as he pulls out with every thrust. It’s intoxicating and he can’t get enough. “Just. For. You.” He chants with every thrust. His jaw clenches and he can feel the release coming quickly as you rake your hands down his chest. You begin to get tighter around him with every thrust and he almost loses his breath.

He pushes through the fight of coming already to keep the sight of your shaking with pleasure underneath him. He licks his lips and growls more as he watches your boobs bounce up and down with every moment. There’s sweat all over his body now and he sees your skin begin to shine with a thin layer of your own on your body.

He dips his head down to swipe his tongue up in between your breasts. You push your body up into him and squeeze his shoulders as he trails his mouth up to your neck once more, nipping and sucking and whispering praises into your ear.

One of his hands runs over your breasts, twisting your nipple just to feel your whole body arch into him again, then down your stomach until you feel his thumb rubbing circles into your clit. You instantly feel yourself unravel around him.

“Gonna…gonna…gonna cu-“ Your whole body tenses and Sukuna grunts and goes faster as he feels your pussy clamp down onto his dick. He moved his hand back and continues picking up the pace until the whole bed is shaking and you’re screaming his name. He moans out your name as he pushes his dick as far into your pussy as he can and comes hard. His whole body twitches as you both come down from your highs.

He slowly pulls out of you and kisses you gently as you whine at the overstimulation. He pats your hair and copes to you as you come down from the last bit of your orgasm.

“Shhh princess, I’ll be right back.” You nod in response and listen as he runs into the bathroom, turns the shower on, and comes back into the room with a wet cloth. “Let’s clean you up and then go take a shower, princess.”

“Mmk, Kuna.” You hum, still feeling euphoric. He cleans you, then scoops you up and walks you to the shower. You sigh constantly as you feel the warm water cascading over your body. Sukuna places you down where you can stand, then grabs subs up a loofa to clean both of your bodies.

“Such a sweet princess, aren’t you?” He asks sweetly as you finally peel your eyes open to look up at him. He grins down at you and kisses you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sukuna.” You reply, wrapping your arms around him. “My Kuna.”

“Yes, princess,” he chuckles. “All yours.”

He finishes cleaning your bodies and then you take turns washing each other’s hair. He giggles when he has to lean down so you can reach his and kisses your pout away.

Once your shower is over, you both dry off, slip into cozy pajamas, change the bedding, and slip into bed together to go to sleep. Sukuna hums the tunes of the song you danced to at your wedding and cards his fingers through your hair as you quickly fall asleep. Then he wraps his arms around and drifts peacefully off with you.

This was so nerve wrecking to post, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading!

All right reserved © 2024 chasing-dreamers. Do not translate, copy, modify, or repost any of my works on any platform.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Negotiations (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)

Summary: Joe puts you in the glass cage and makes you negotiate for your freedom

Warnings: typical creepy Joe behavior (implied stalking, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, etc.), the reader either doesn't understand the full gravity of their situation or just doesn't care

A/N: I realized I never officially wrote something for it so here y'all go (this was written super quickly so idk if it's any good or not)

"So I had to do it, you see. I had to get rid of them. I had to save you," Joe insisted frantically, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was you.

You'd woken up in the infamous glass cage underneath the bookstore he worked at, curiously looking around. The only thing you'd said so far was to ask where to you, to which he replied "somewhere safe". Talk about ominous.

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?" You spoke up suddenly, as you soon realized upon inspecting the inside of your new home that there wasn't a toilet. There was, however, a bucket.

"Well..." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided the question. It didn't take much for you to put two and two together.

You gave him a look that was a cross between disgust and disbelief. "I can't pee in a bucket, Joe."

"I'm sorry, but I can't just let you out." He felt bad, sure, but he had to do this. He had to make sure that you were safe, even if it meant making you a little mad at him.

Crossing your arms, you turned in the opposite direction, refusing to look at him. Clearly you weren't too fond of your new living arrangements and were choosing to pout.

"Oh, come on, it isn't that bad," he lied upfront as he watched you. It was that bad, actually. Using a bucket to go to the bathroom was pretty gross.

And now he was starting to feel bad for putting you in this kind of situation. Anger was one thing, that he could handle. He could brace himself against that, or he rationalize away your worries or fears, but you seemed less genuinely upset and more annoyed than anything else.

He let out a heavy sigh as he contemplated his options. You were ignoring him, and he just couldn't have that. "If I let you out, you have to promise not to run away from me or anything like that. Understood?"

As if on cue, you turned back to face him again, a look of hope in your eyes. "Really?"

Joe tried not to let out a laugh when he saw you get close to the glass and press your face against it. "Yeah, really. Just- you have to move in with me. I don't want you living alone anymore. And I have to know where you are at all times."

Sure, he knew he could just follow you like usual, but he wanted you to be able to trust him. "And there's certain people that I don't want you hanging around anymore. Deal?"

Oh, god, what was he saying? This was going to be too much to put on you all at once. He should've just started with one small thing and gone from there, he shouldn't have given you an entire list-

"Deal."

Your voice instantly cut through his thoughts. Part of him wanted to believe you, even if he was a little suspicious that you'd agreed so quickly. Then again, you seemed so sincere, trusting even, observing him the same way anyone who truly loved their partner would: like he was the only thing that mattered.

"Could you let me out now? I really need to go pee."

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to the door of the cage and unlocked it, letting you out. "Remember what I told you, alright? I don't want to have to put you back in there," he tried to make himself sound stern, to show you that he wasn't playing around when he said that.

To his surprise, you responded by giving him a hug. "You're such a sweetheart, caring about me so much," you muttered affectionately.

He couldn't stop himself from melting into your touch. If this was an act, it was certainly working.

"I'll never, ever leave you."

God, you were going to be the death of him. "And I'll never let you go," he promised in turn.

He really meant it when he said that. He was never going to let you go. Not that you seemed to mind.

End notes: I don't know if this is any good or not honestly. I really wanted to write something for Joe but I was kind of at a loss for what exactly to write about so 🤷 send me some ideas though if y'all want

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | You masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @caplanreblogsfics

[babygorewhore]

Bad Guy

Rafe Cameron x fem!Thornton! reader

As Toppers sister, he refused to let you be apart of his party life until tonight. But when you use something of Rafe’s without knowing, he decides you need to pay him.

Warnings! Throat fucking! Unprotected sex! Degrading! Dub con since she’s under the influence! Dark! Rafe kinda (According to me lol)

Tonight was your first time being invited to a party thrown by your brother, Topper. Before you were written off as his annoying little sister.

Forbidden to be exposed to the debauchery of his party life. Topper wasn't necessarily a bad brother. He was just extremely overprotective of you, someone who didn’t fit in with the rest of the kooks. You liked staying in, hanging out with the pogues and you were on the shyer side.

But the biggest issue wasn’t the partying.

Rafe Cameron. Your brother's best friend was the issue. Whenever you were around, he picked on you. Made fun of how you dressed, how you hung out with people he viewed as lesser but most importantly you refused to show weakness to him like other girls.

At least outwardly.

On the inside? You had a massive crush on him. Strictly on a physical level. His tall muscular form Bold blue eyes and blonde hair. Ever since his father was out of the picture, he became hotter. More intimidating since he had all the power. Topper often reminded you of this. The Cameron’s used to be royalty on this island.

But tonight, you were determined to make things different. You wanted to be noticed.

You stepped downstairs where the noise was booming, your short black dress and tall heels clacking against the ground as you stepped into the majority of the crowd. Topper saw you from where he was sitting, a drink in hand as he flew over to you. He glared at the men who were catcalling and giving you lustful looks.

“Absolutely not. Go upstairs and change right now.” He shoved you lightly but you ignored him and eyed the table where he had sat. A line of crystal power lined the glass. You had never snorted coke before and you wanted to make yourself known. You were a Kook. You were Toppers sister but you refused to be seen as a child anymore.

You nudged a girl out of the way and selected the drug and straightened it with a razor blade. After picking something up, you brought your nose down and breathed in the drug.

“What the fuck?” Topper yanked you away as a rush came over you and gave you a shot of energy and you cheered. Everyone was underneath the flashing lights.

“What’s wrong with you? I’m an adult now, Top Get over it!”

“That’s not it, idiot. That coke didn’t belong to me and you didn’t pay for it.”

You breathed in and wiped your nose. “What?” Your entire body was buzzing with adrenaline as your brother rolled his eyes and looked at you sternly.

“That’s Rafe’s. And he’s really strict about getting paid.”

You shrug, your high making you care less about what’s happening. You turn and start to enjoy the rest of the party. Dancing by the pool, drinking and doing another line in different room.

As you walked out of the restroom an hour later, a tall figure approached you down the empty hallway and you paled as you realized it was Rafe storming towards you.

His striped shirt was messy and his black pants were fitted as he loomed over you. “You think you can steal shit from me?”

“I didn’t steal anything. You weren’t even in the room!” You argued drunkenly and tried to push him away from you but he caught your hands.

“You don’t snort what belongs to me without paying for it, you little slut. Dressing like that to try and impress everyone and do a line. I know what you’re doing.”

“And what’s that, Rafe?” You challenged back, your makeup running from all the activity you participated in.

“You just want me to notice you. Well, guess what? I did and now you’re going to pay up.” You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. I’ll go get my purse.”

Rafe let out a laugh and you grew cold as he let you go but caged you in with both hands on either side of your head. “I don’t want your fucking money. I have enough of that shit.”

“Then, what? How do you want me to pay you?” Rafe gave you a soft sneer and you realized exactly what he meant.

“Fuck off,” You growled and tried to shove him but Rafe nudged your legs, separated them and forced you on your knees with his hands on your shoulders, gripping harshly. “You really want to make me the bad guy, huh?” He breathed out through his lips and shook his head teasingly. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

You wanted to deny it but with the drugs, pent up emotions of suppressing any sort of sexual attraction to him and remembering all the times you played with your pussy while saying his name. You started unbuckling his pants, his boxers making him look like he was in a men’s magazine as his hard on stared directly at you.

You had only blown two guys before this and each time wasn’t fun. You weren’t attracted to them like Rafe. He always loomed in your mind despite the dismissive swear you gave him earlier.

Rafe sighed impatiently as he adjusted his boxers and removed his heavy dick, his precum leaking from the tip as it slapped against his stomach. Your mouth watered and you felt yourself drip onto your panties as you spat onto your hand and started gently rubbing up and down the soft skin. Your thumb swipes across his creamy fluid as you drag your tongue along the vein, his entire body shuddering as you repeat the action on the other side. His cock was hot against your mouth as your lips gave open mouth kisses before he cups your jaw and opens your mouth with intense strength.

“You’re gonna make me cum and you’re not gonna whine. You’re not going to do anything unless I say, Got it, you stupid little whore?” He growled and you nodded fearfully as you opened your lips and kitten licked the tip before he shoved his cock inside your mouth.

Your head slammed back against the wall as he arched over you, his one hand holding his weight as he started thrusting hard and face fucked you. Your eyes widened as you tasted the slick and your throat immediately wanted to protest and close but you breathed deeply in your nose and adjusted your position on your knees. Your cunt fluttered and he started moaning, the very sound telling you how much he enjoyed this.

“Your little good girl act doesn’t work on me,” He grunted as he moved faster and fucked your mouth, your mascara lining your cheeks as tears streamed down your face.

Your head bobbed up and down his length as your pussy clenched around nothing as his movement started growing sloppy. “You gonna take it, bitch? You gonna take my cock, cum slut?”

His dirty words only made your center pool as he grabbed your hair and pulled so hard it hurt enough to make you wince but you kept going until he came to a halt, spilling his seed inside your mouth. You pulled off them, coughing and wiping your lips. Gloss and liner smearing on your hand. Rafe chuckled and lightly slapped you. “That’s what you do. Take it without whining like other girls. Guess you really know what you’re doing, huh? More than I thought you did” To your surprise he helped you stand but stopped you from wiping your face.

“Rafe, if my brother sees this he’s going to kill us.” You shriek before quieting when he leans down. “Do I look like I care? Besides, I’m not fucking done with you.” With that, Rafe wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you into a room further down the hallway. He didn’t waste time as he pushed you down onto the unmade mattress and yanked your dress higher, exposing your soaked underwear.

He smirked at you. “All that from sucking my dick? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.” He pulled off your panties and shuffled to straddle you, lining up his cock and running it along your clit causing you to throw your head back. A wash of fear came as you thought about someone walking in. But he wouldn’t care. He always did exactly what he wanted and to whom.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me? That little pussy is gonna hug me so tight,” He groaned as he pushed it inside your opening and you whined, your legs wrapping around his hips.

He slid in and out a few times before he slammed to the hilt and you almost screamed at the fullness. Rafe took your hand and pressed it down on your stomach. “You fucking feel that? Feel me there? That’s what happens when you don’t pay up. I take what’s mine.” He growled and moved faster, your body was jerking on top of the bed as your fingers dug into the material of his shirt you desperately wanted off so you slipped your hands underneath and touched his muscular back. He let out his own whimper at that as he thrusted deep inside you.

His cock reached something in you that made you start crying from pleasure again, “fuck, daddy. I can’t-I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for daddy, baby girl. You’re being so good.” He managed before he felt you reach your peak and you spilled all over him.

You felt more wetness as his own cum filled you but he didn’t pull out. “I’m not gonna let anything spill out.” He gave you a smirk on his sweaty face and he leaned down and gave you a hard kiss.

It was marking his territory.

“I’m not fucking finished with you yet.”

You felt whiplash. You just fucked your bully, long time crush and now, drug dealer.

@xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @xxhellfirebunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @drewstarkeyslut @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @lesservillain @redhead1180

[cokou]

𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚘 + 𝙰𝚌𝚎 × 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

sum. Forcing your boyfriend to adopt a new fuzzy friend into the household, maybe you've spent too much time with the fuzzy. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Fluff. Jealousy. Law's and Ace's a bit longer cause, favoritism. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. New writing style! We could never go wrong with loving fuzzy and cute animals!! Dont transfer or translate in any platforms,this is my only account, will not be cross posted anywhere! masterlist♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚊𝚠

After joining the Heart Pirates and dating their captain, your number one entertainment is to soend time with Bepo and Law. While Bepo does feel embarrassed for your acts to him, you absolutely felt like he's a huge cuddly bear more than a scary one.

He even complained to Law himself that he should get you your very own fuzzy friend since you've bothered Bepo so much he couldn't face you anymore without getting embarrassed! Law, the asshole he is, refused to get you one.

You very much enjoyed the idea and pestered Law into getting you one yourself and have some dignity for Bepo, then, he finally agreed. You both visited a pet shop, and just with it's entrance you couldn't leave anymore. Inside were full of cute animals waiting to be adopted, you just wanted to take them all.

"(Name)-Ya, what about this guy?" He pointed and peeked into the small cage, and there, was a white fluffy kitty who has just woken up from its slumber. Yes, perfect! It looked so cute and cuddly! You already fell inlove with it just by looking! "Awh, look at how much she resembles Bepo!"

You both took her back, and upon your arrival you set her free in her new home, the sub.

For the past few weeks, your attention had been glued to your new friend, not wanting anything on your path. It was so bad you had more pictures of her than you and Law combined! And the way you trip because you watch her instead of where you were going.

Law on the other hand, was definitely not feeling it, he felt like the white furball just replaced him with everything! You shared a bed with her, she gets your attention, she gets to be with you all day! If he were honest, he would blurt out how jealous he was for the furball.

In which, you suspected him for. "Law, are you really okay? You've been quiet and only staring since you sat down."

"I told you I am okay, don't worry." He finally let out a sigh after realizing you weren't with the kitten anymore, that was until he heard meow, and behind you was the kitten. You picked her up and setted her into your lap, receiving a piercing glance from Law.

"Are you okay? You're doing the stare aga— ohhhh..." You had finally realized that he was jealous, not by anyone, but the kitty that you've been giving attention to.

"What?" "Don't tell me you're jealous of our little furball!" You laugh at him. "What?! W-why the hell would you think that?"

"Law, it's quite obvious...come here, lay with us." You invited him with open arms and he jumped right into you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢

Ever since Chopper had joined the Straw Hats, you couldn't take your hands off his cheeks and head, continuesly patting and hugging him from his cuteness. Even your boyfriend, Luffy had agreed!

Chopper was definitely nice to have around, when you're stressed? You pat him. When you need to let it out? Hug him. He's just so cute and fuzzy! The way you'd kill people when you hear them talk bad about Chopper, because you refuse to let people think that he was a monster.

Eventually Luffy thought that you and Chopper became best friends of how you two always chatter about everything, at first he taught it's what makes the crew more unique.

But eventually, after a month, he noticed how you'd been glued with the reindeer all the time. He taught it was normal since you two were best friends but, this time you might have crossed the line.

"(Name)!! I'm hungry, can you cook meat?" He asked you with the usual big smile on his face. "Oh no Luffy, could you ask Sanji? I'm hanging out with Chopper today.." Bad Idea, you never refused to cook him meat even if you were busy. He knew you enough to just refuse to cook meat for him. The way he frowned as you waved him and went into the dock with Chopper.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, you felt someone tugging your clothes. "Pst, (Name)." It was Luffy.

"Eh? Luffy? Why are you awake at a time like this.." you groggily whispered. "Just come here" You spproach his area and he pulled you with him.

"Finally some peace between us" He gave you a big grin and placed his hand on your back. "It's been a while you know— you've always been with Chopper."

"Luffy, wh— are you jealous of Chopper?" You came with a conclusion that maybe, just maybe he got jealous of your constant hanging out eith Chopper.

"Hmm...is that how you name it, (Name)? If so then yes!" You plopped your hands on his chest and gave him a giggle. "You could've said so earlier, i would've spent more time with you, Lu"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚍

It was 100% your idea, you had convinced Eustass to bring company of an animal into the Victoria Punk. Not only because you had no one to talk to other than Killer or Kidd himself, but simply because it was boring out in the ship.

Lucky for you, Kidd agreed to get you one of your choice, in exchange of...things. So you decided to get a Cat of your choice, simply after declaring it's recruitment into the Kidd Pirates. You gave every ounce of your attention to it, even if it means opening the door of the bathroom when you take a shower just incase the furball could come inside and pet itself across your legs.

Well that only happened twice, what DID happen was Eustass peeking at you while taking a shower, which happened about 90% of the time. You didn't mind though.

Back to our fur friend, it bothered the cleaners of the ship on how they'd find furry hair on every furniture they clean. Kidd even complained that your shared bed was full of cat fur and that it was sticking onto his skin! But you couldn't careless.

Everytime you had a chance to sit, the cat eould latch itself into your lap, preventing you from standing up and doing business. Because standing would mean disrespectful!

Now we have an angry Eustass, whenever he wants you to be around him your excuse would always be 'But theyre on my lap' and 'im playing with them give me a while' He was getting fed up with both you and the cat itself.

So you're at the comfort place in the ship, with Kidd having a staring contest with the animal on your lap, whilst you read a book a chill. Then suddenly he spoke up, "Okay that's enough." He stood up, took the cat and placed it outside the room.

"Why'd you do that for?!"

"Oh please, you have all your attention on that animal since it stepped foot into the ship, give it a break." He scoffed.

"Or you're just jealous because i give it more attention than you?" Oh, NOW you're dead. "JEALOUS?? Why would i be jealous over a stupid furry?!" He was. He was 100% jealous.

"Okay first of all, it's not a stupid furry! And second of all, you seem pretty defensive, if you're jealous just say it."

"WHAT?! No im n—"

"—Which, you definitely are, come here you big baby. I'll give you the attention you deserve." You cutted him off, now you're gonna be in big trouble.

"And i expect the attention to be filled, get on the bed fucker." It would definitely be a longggg night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙰𝚌𝚎

He IS the one who suggested to get a furry friend. He'd definitely be the type to adopt a puppy, and then proceed to name it one of the most basic names ever. You could see the disappointment in Marco's face when he found out he named the precious puppy 'Oreo' because it's fur was Black AND White.

He had gotten you the precious puppy as a gift for your birthday as he found out you're into having pets, and your reason? They were CUTE as hell. He had gotten you a puppy who's fur is at the brownish side.

"Hmm, what should we name him?!" "OH! OH! I know! Brownie!"..."Are you being serious, Ace?" You looked at him, praying that the name he suggested was only for sarcasm, but you were taken aback from his response. "What do you mean babe? Of course i am! It's such a perfect name for him!"

"It's... one of the most basic names I've ever heard. " You spared him a straight face, sending shivers down his spine. "Okay, okay I'll think of another name! Hm..how about Cookie?" Yeah he doesn't have naming privileges anymore.

In the end you both sticked into the name you had chosen for the puppy. Everything was going great for the first week, you buying him all the stuff he needed, the most high qualited dog food, and even his own supplies had beaten yours! With an average of spending atleast thoudands of Berries a week.

The second week hadn't been different at all, except for the fact that now that the puppy was growing, it became even more plsyful towards you. Meaning you, had soent almost all your time with it. On the other hand, your boyfriend Ace, ended up getting bitten at the hand for trying to take away it's toy that you gave.

"Babe! Do you see those eyes that's looking at me right now?! It looks like it's gonna KILL me!" Ace climbed up on a chair when he entered the house unannounced and the dog had decided to chase him for dear life.

"Come one Bae, he won't hurt you like at all! He's an angel!" You petted the dog, causing him to sit. "Yeah if it was opposite day I would've believed you! look at him, it looks like it's gonna bite my limbs of one by one!"

"Come on Ace! He won't bite you!" As soon as you reassured Ace thst nothing eould happen if he stepped down, he tried lowering his left foot down, causing the dog the fully bark at him. "SEE?!" Ace's voice was almost crying.

"Bad dog! You know he's the one who brought you to me right?! He's basically your dad! Go to your bed!" The dog whimpers then climbs it's bed.

"You know, after this i expect a full week of attention all mine! Okay?!" Ace pouts and settles himself down from the chair. You gave him a reassuring kiss, "I promise,"

©Cokou 2024, all works made by me.

[lexkent]

Why Lionel Luthor is the True Villain of Smallville:

Threatened to expose Clark's fake adoption records unless Jonathan Kent persuaded Pete Ross’s family to sell their factory to him.

Kidnapped Clark and put him in a vat of kryptonite solution to be studied in an attempt to discover his secrets.

Kept Clark trapped in a cage made of kryptonite in a separate incident.

Impregnated his dying wife's nurse while he was in a position of power over her as her boss, denied he was responsible, and had her locked away in a psychiatric ward for 7 years after taking her baby away from her. Lionel insured the child, Lucas, remained in poverty in the foster care system and prevented him from ever being adopted.

Forced the second woman he impregnated while married to Lillian, while in a position of power over her as her boss, to give their child to an orphanage where she was tortured. He soon found another home for Tess where she grew up in poverty and extreme physical abuse.

Forced his wife to have another baby despite her objections and was then dismissive of her postpartum depression. "I told you I didn't want any more children. I see how you treat Alexander, chipping away at his spirit."

Found a child, Davis Bloome, in a cornfield and believing him to be The Traveler, ran experiments on the boy until he realized he wasn't who he wanted and proceeded to dump him off alone on a dark Metropolis street.

Created a clone from a dead little girl, Emily Dinsmore, and locked her away in a lab, refusing to let her father ever see her again. "You can't take her away from me. She's my daughter." "She's the property of Luthorcorp."

Was such a terrible father to Lex that Lillian Luthor killed her infant son to spare him from the cruel and twisted parenting Lex endured from Lionel. Was such a horrible husband to Lillan that Lex took the blame for his baby brother's death knowing Lionel would have murdered her in retaliation.

Lied and told Lex that Lucas died in infancy, like Julian, knowing how much it would hurt Lex to hear.

Paid someone to kill Lucas once he became a potential threat to his power. Clark stopped the bullets, and Lionel had the shooter killed in police custody before he could talk.

Forced Lex's mother figure, Pamela Jenkins, out of Lex's life following the death of Lex's mother because he didn't want her to make Lex soft. Convinced Lex that Pamela never loved him and was only ever interested in their money. 

Blew up Chloe and Gabe Sullivan's safehouse in an attempt to kill them and prevent her from testifying against him at his murder trial. Hired a mutant hitman to kidnap and kill Chloe after she escaped the explosion.

Had Oliver Queen's parents killed in a plane crash leaving him orphaned at the age of 5.

Ordered the murder of Andrea Rojas’s mother who was an activist who worked for an organization that fought back against gangs, dealers, and large business corporations. In addition to losing her mother, Andrea was stabbed in the heart during the attack.

Resurrected a teenager, Adam Knight, to get close to Lana Lang and spy on Clark Kent. When Adam failed to retrieve useful information, Lionel refused to give him any more of the serum he required to stay live. As a result, Adam suffered immensely before dying of organ failure.

Resurrected Vince Davis who lived for a short, painful period of time before his body deteriorated without access to Lionel's serum.

Poisoned Lex with a lethal dosage that would've killed 99.9% of people.

Told Lex he loved him in prison only to persuade him into accepting his hand so he could use a Kryptonian stone to body swap them, leaving Lex to rot and die in prison in his place while Lionel escaped with Lex's body. Instead, Clark intervened and Lionel escaped inside of Clark's body, leaving Clark trapped to die in prison. Shortly after the bodyswap occured, Lionel looked down the front inside of his(Clark's) waistband while smiling to himself. While in Clark Kent's body, Lionel initiated a hug with Martha Kent where he was turned on to the point of shooting heat vision from his eyes. Lionel-in-Clark's body flirted with Chloe, a teenager, and was centimeters away from kissing her. And when Lionel-in-Clark's body encountered Lana, a teenager, he said to her, "A man would travel around the world to pluck your succulent fruit," and forced a kiss onto her, smiling to himself after she slapped him and ran away. Lionel proceeded to attack Lex, choking him, slamming his head against a desk, and demanding 57 million dollars using Clark's super strength. He then went to the Kent Farm and threw Jonathan across the room into the kitchen cabinets. Lionel told Clark he would murder Lex if he didn't cooperate with his demands.

Pretended to be blind. "Playing the handicapped card is low, even for you." "But I was able to see more clearly than ever. It's amazing what people try and get away with right in front of your eyes when they think you can't see."

Fired 2,500 Smallville citizens to force his son back under his control. When Lex attempted to organize an employee buyout of the factory, Lionel bought the Smallville Savings and Loan and threatened to foreclose on every employee's mortgage. When Lex continued to organize and fight to save everyone's jobs, Lionel threatened, "I'll bury you and everyone in Smallville who takes your side."

Blackmailed Smallville sheriff Ethan Millar into digging up dirt on every Lexcorp shareholder(Smallville factory workers), so Lionel could blackmail each one into selling their shares to him in order to take over Lex's fledgling company. In addition, Lionel threatened to expose the sheriff if he didn't do him various favors.

Once again tried blackmailing Jonathan Kent leading to a physical altercation between the two. Lionel fled the scene as Jonathan suffered a fatal heart attack.

Installed hidden cameras and microphones throughout Lex's office, so he could sabotage him and steal his business deals.

Took over Lex's company, which Lex had invested everything he had into, leaving him with nothing and immediately kicking him out of his home.

Insisted an ill-advised, life-threatening surgery be performed on Lex after he had been shot and wasn't stable enough for further surgery, making it clear he'd prefer a dead son over a physically disabled one.

Set Lex up for the murders of Dr. Teng and her entire team at Metron Labs after Lex refused to work for him.

Had sex with Lex's lover, Victoria Hardwick, while they were still sleeping together. 

Hired Dr. Helen Bryce to seduce and spy on Lex for him. Helen later attempted to murder Lex on their honeymoon.

Gave Martha Kent a watch engraved, "To Martha, with deep affection. L.L." while she was his employee and happily married to Jonathan Kent.

Refused to come clean about his past sexual involvement with Rachel Dunleavy and the existence of their son, Lucas, despite Lex being held hostage and his survival depending on Lionel telling the truth.

Refused to come clean about Level 3 when it would have saved the lives of a group of teenagers and his own son. 

Ignored and denied any care to his employee, Earl Jenkins, who was poisoned by kryptonite on the job which led to uncontrollable, dangerous seizures.

Created a deadly fear toxin for the military that leaked into Smallville.

Drugged, gaslit, attacked, and framed his son, orchestrating a scenario where everyone would believe Lex to be crazy after Lex discovered Lionel had his parents murdered for insurance money. Lionel had Lex committed to Belle Reve Sanitarium where he had Lex further drugged and put through electroshock therapy, forcing 600 volts of electricity through Lex's brain. When the doctor insisted they pause the procedure for Lex's safety, Lionel ignored the warning and demanded they continue. This brain frying could have easily destroyed Lex's mind, as it did for others who endured it, and ultimately wiped away months of Lex's memories, allowing Lionel to be off the hook for his parent's murders. Everyone involved in Lionel's plot, all loose ends, met untimely deaths.

Threatened, manipulated, controlled, hyper criticized, denied affection, and lied to Lex constantly. Lionel mentally, emotionally, and physically abused his child throughout his entire life, raising him to become a monster and then denying any accountability for what Lex became in the end.

This list is far from complete, so feel free to add more!

[heeseung-min]

[21:14]

You eyes started to blink when you heard screaming nearby. It's not one. It's like a bunch of girls screaming for help. Slowly, you finally gained consciousness and looked at your surrounding. You realized you were in a basement. Few metres in front of you there was a big cage that can fit few people in there and you recognized every single one in there.

"Y/n, you wake up? HELP US! Someone has abducted all of us and you!

Dami, one of the girls yelled to you. You looked at yourself who were on bed that is perfectly fine and in comfortable clothes while all of them looked miserable. You wondered what makes the treatment towards you and them are different.

"YAH!! WE TOLD YOU TO HELP US OUT!! ARE YOU DEAF, BITCH--"

Everyone and you gasped when the girl who were shouting just now got shot straight to her head. The girls were screaming freaking out when they saw one of their friends die. You turned to the left where the man who shot the girl just now put down his shotgun.

"Damn it, yall can't even shut your mouth for a minute?"

It was Jay. Your classmate.

The girls went silent and sobbing quietly because they don't want to get shoot by him. Jay turned himself to you and started to walk closer.

"How do you feel? Do you want to eat something?"

He asked as he caressed your hair gently. It's like two different people. Just now you saw Jay shot someone and now he was being gentle and soft to you. But you can't deny the scene traumatized you too. Your hands were shaking when he leaned closer.

"Stop....stop it."

"What? What do you mean, sweet?"

"Let ...us go. Why are you doing this, Jay?"

Jay stopped caressing your head and chuckled when you asked him that.

"I did it for you, Y/n. Don't you like it? I made your bullies suffered. They don't deserve to live after what they had done."

You looked at the tray that was moving to the girls. Your eyes widened at the sight of hot wax getting closer to them. Jay watched the scene with wide smile on his face.

"Stop it."

"Why? I know you like it too, Y/n."

"I said stop it, Jay!!!"

He pushed the button to stop the tray from falling to the girls. Jay sighed and looked at you.

"Don't pretend, baby. I know you are happy to see people you hate suffering. Just like what you did to your father."

It's like Jay just dropped a bomb on you. Your hands became shakier after he said that.

_________

_________

"Why I have a daughter when I can have a son. Raising a daughter bring so much burden."

That's what your dad always said every single day. He never teaches you anything but will ask you for many favors. If you refuse, you will heard he complain about it later.

"I can't believe your mother would ask me to keep you alive. Bitch, the doctor should make you die instead. At least if your mother was alive, we can still try for a boy."

Your last straw was when you cooked dinner for him.

"Feed this to a dog. I don't want to eat anything from you."

You watched he throw the food you cooked to the floor. After that, he went to the living room and watched his favourite show. You listened to his laugh while cleaning up the floor. You waited until he fell asleep and rolled your eyes when you heard his loud snoring.

"You wanted to meet mom so bad. Maybe I should do a favor for you."

__________

__________

"And I remember how you cried in front of those people when they said your father died due to carbon monoxide poisoning. Your acting was really impressive."

Your fists clenched while listening to what Jay said.

"But they didn't see you from the side. Your lips were smirking when your dad is finally dead."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Most people feel bad for you but I watched how you laugh after all of them left the funeral."

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"

Jay finally stopped talking and stared at your fuming expression. He looked so proud when telling about it. You made sure that no one find out about this.

"All I want is you to stop pretending, Y/N. You cannot lie to me. I know everything about you."

You sighed and tried to relax your body. After few seconds, you opened your eyes and Jay smirked when he saw your eyes changed. It is similar to what he saw when your father died.

"Give me a gun. I want to practice shooting."

The girls started to screaming and begging to you to not let them die.

"Let's play a game, okay? Try to avoid being shot as long as you can."

You said and started to fire the gun while Jay watched you admiringly.

💀💀💀well i hope it come out well, having writer block is no joke...i hope you guys still remember me🙁and hope you guys enjoy this as well.

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @huggyuvita @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @rowretro @eeunoia

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

One of the things that annoy me the most about people (mostly zutarians) trying to argue that Zuko saying he wasn't being himself in a war meeting with Ozai somehow means he doesn't want to be Fire Lord or date Mai is not just how it completely misinterprets Zuko's character and the things he has explicitly stated to want multiple times - but also because it ignores one of the most realistic portrayals of what it is like to live with an abuser that isn't on Evil Bastard mode 24/7.

During "Nightmares And Daydreams" Zuko is being treated shockingly well. He can get literally anything he wants, whenever he wants. He is being so pampered that he doesn't even have to walk anywhere if he doesn't feel like it, and everyone adores him - he is basically being treated like Azula.

Yet unlike Azula, he was not invited to the meeting. And he doesn't feel safe to ask his father about it directly or to just assume there was some communication issue and show up regardless of the "lack of" invitation. And considering what happened last time he tried, it's not hard to see why he feels that way.

But oh look! He WAS supposed to be there! And Ozai even refused to start the meeting without him! He saved Zuko a spot so he'd be at his right hand, and even wants to hear him out when discussing ideas! Surely that means he cares about Zuko and values his opinions, right?

Not quite. There's another catch. There's ALWAYS another catch. He can say what he wants... provided it is what Ozai wants to hear.

Zuko has every privilege in the world, but he doesn't have the basic to right to have his own opinions, to speak to his own parent and to not constantly fear he will suddenly be, at best, ignored, and at worst physically abused, kicked from home and cut off from everything and everyone he is familair with just because Ozai woke up in a bad mood or felt challenged/insulted in some way.

This episode was not about Zuko realising he didn't love Mai, or wanted to go back to the job he canonically hated. It's about him finally realizing that the most luxurious cage in the world is still a cage. That he will never feel safe with his abuser around, even if Ozai isn't constantly lashing out. That no matter how good his life seems to be on the surface, he will never truly have anything (from basic stuff like a roof over his head to luxuries like literal royal treatment) when there's someone that can just randomly decide to take it all away from him and not face any consequences for it because he has absolute power over everyone.

That's why in lots of frames during his conversations with Iroh, the animation makes it look like Zuko is behind bars while his uncle is free. Why Azula, the child that stuck by Ozai's side, ends the show having a breakdown and feeling worthless after being randomly abandoned by him and excluded from what was supposed to be THEIR moment. Why during the eclipse, Zuko literally says "I'm going to speak my mind and you're going to listen."

And why he confessed that entire inner conflict to Mai - yes, his girlfriend, but also someone who can RELATE to his struggles, because while her parents are not abusive, they are neglectful to the point of it being criminal and she full on says "I could get anything I wanted, as long as I behaved."

She knows what's like to feel trapped, and that's a big part of why Zuko felt comfortable enough to "take the mask off" with her instead of with anyone else.

[nartml]

I get that THW was going for a sobering message of "sometimes you have to let people go" and "some friends can't stay forever", but it was hilariously unsuccessful.

It's still baffling to me, the amount of raving reviews calling it "the perfect ending".

Apart from the wild thematic inconsistencies, and the endless flaws with Hiccup's logic of "oh, yeah, I know that things have never before been this good for dragons, I know that Berk is living proof that even the most stubborn people can change their minds on dragons, I know that dragons thrive on companionship and love their humans, I know that good people exist, I know that I'm the instigator of a huge revolutionary period, butttttt..... because bad humans exist I'll lock away the entirety of the draconic population in a glorified underground cage, in the hopes that one day humans will stop being bad and learn to cooperate with the creatures that they question, or even forget, the existence of a measly decade after their disappearance. Magically.", this message plainly didn't fit.

Not just in a thematic context. I mean that it literally doesn't fit in this situation, and it doesn't fit the characters.

It doesn't even fit reality, because you have to let go of people for reasons. Some friends can't stay forever, for reasons.

Valid ones. Reasons like, you grew apart, you don't have shared interests anymore, they betrayed you in an unforgivable way, they're not good for you, they're not good to you, they died, etc etc.

Had any one of these happened? At any stage? The one thing you could, albeit pointlessly, argue is that they grew apart. That they outgrew each other.

Only that...they didn't? Did I miss something? Because Toothless flying away for, what, a day to spend some time with his love interest, is not outgrowing. Toothless finding romance does not mean that he and Hiccup grew apart.

And this isn't just about the Light Fury. I'm not discussing whether or not she's a good character (she isn't), and I'm not discussing whether or not she deserves Toothless (Ha, you're funny). Even if she were the absolute best, most perfect match for Toothless and a compelling character, it still wouldn't even remotely mean that he and Hiccup grew apart.

In fact, if you grow so far apart from your best friend that you can say goodbye to them forever, just because you found a new partner, then I really don't know what to tell you. (Except that you're probably not a good friend.)

Hiccup realizing that Toothless doesn't make him who he is, and doesn't define him, that he doesn't need Toothless in order to be someone, or even that he doesn't need Toothless at all, doesn't mean that he outgrew him. Not even slightly.

I mean, come on, I don't need the vast majority of people in my life. Arguably, I might not even need any of the people in my life. This doesn't mean I don't want them there.

This doesn't mean that I won't fight for them to stay right here, by my side.

Oh, look, how's that for a change? How about a movie where your friends refuse to leave you? Because that's what I want, and that's what How To Train Your Dragon deserved.

That's what Hiccup, and the rest of the Berkians, deserved. And that's what fit. That's what thematically fit, what fit reality, or at least the httyd reality, and what fit the characters themselves.

This movie treated the dragons as mindless pets, whereas in every other step of the way, they were treated as people.

Toothless isn't a just slobbery puppy.

Toothless is intelligent, curious, kind, understanding, funny, snarky and sarcastic, graceful, elusive, protective, loving, wary, and fucking loyal (plus much more).

I can't think of a character that has demonstrated as much loyalty and protectiveness as this guy.

And yet he was barely any of the aforementioned things in thw. He became unrecognizable.

All the dragons became unrecognizable, for no justifiable reason.

The final message shouldn't have been that your friends sometimes have to leave you, and that you have to let them go.

(The humans left the dragons just as much as the dragons left the humans btw)

It should've been that they'll fight tooth and nail to stay, even when the going gets tough, even when priorities shift, even when you tell them to go.

No matter how passionately you insist that caring for you is rotten work.

It's not to them.

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝒜𝐿𝑅𝐸𝒜𝒟𝒴 𝐵𝑅𝒪𝒦𝐸𝒩-𝒟𝑅𝐸𝒲 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒦𝐸𝒴

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Drew stands alone, filled with regret as he faces the heartbreaking truth: his career came first, and now he's losing the love of his life.

✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮

The sound of rain tapping against the windows filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the thunderstorm brewing between the two people standing at opposite ends of the living room. The soft glow of the city lights barely reached inside, casting Drew Starkey’s face in shadows as he stood in the dim light, jaw clenched, hands trembling with frustration.

Y/N, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if trying to hold everything together, felt like she was unraveling at the seams. The silence between them had always been comforting, but tonight it was suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. The weight of unspoken words, of late nights spent alone, and promises broken, hung heavily in the air.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Drew finally spoke, his voice strained, but his eyes refused to meet hers. It was as if he couldn’t bear to see the pain he knew he had caused her.

“What do I want from you?” Y/N repeated, disbelief lacing her words as she shook her head, her heart pounding against her ribcage. “I wanted you, Drew. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Drew flinched, guilt flashing across his face for a moment, but just as quickly, it disappeared behind his guarded expression. He raked his hand through his hair, pacing the room like a caged animal. “You knew this is how it would be. The fame, the long hours, the traveling I didn’t ask for this life to be easy.”

Her heart sank as she watched him rationalize, but that didn’t ease the ache growing in her chest. “It’s not about the long hours or the traveling. I knew what I was signing up for when I fell in love with you, Drew. But you weren’t there when I needed you the most.”

The words escaped her before she could stop them. She’d been holding onto them for so long, they’d become like a poison inside her one that needed to be purged. Her eyes welled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn’t be the vulnerable one, not again.

Drew’s breath hitched, and he froze mid-step, finally turning to face her, his blue eyes wide with a mix of surprise and confusion. “What do you mean? I’ve been trying to be here. I’ve been doing my best…”

“No, Drew,” she whispered, her voice breaking despite her best efforts. “You weren’t there when I was drowning. When everything became too much, and I needed you…you weren’t there.”

His eyes flickered with recognition as the words sank in. There had been times more times than he cared to admit where he’d missed important moments. Her bad days, the nights she cried herself to sleep. The phone calls he promised to return but never did. The breakdown she had when her world felt like it was crumbling, and he was miles away filming, unable to drop everything for her.

Drew took a step toward her, but she shook her head, stepping back, creating a space between them that felt like miles.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low, pained. He looked so much like the Drew she fell in love with in this moment, vulnerable, raw, broken in his own way. But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

“I needed you,” she repeated, her voice steady now, even if the cracks still showed. “I wasn’t asking you to stop everything. I just wanted you to see me. To notice when I wasn’t okay. To be there, even when it was hard.”

“I know,” Drew said, swallowing hard as he stepped closer again, desperation in his eyes. “I know I messed up. I…I didn’t realize. I was so wrapped up in everything, and I thought…I thought you’d understand.”

She laughed bitterly, the sound foreign in the tense room. “That’s the problem, Drew. I did understand. I understood everything. I made excuses for you. I kept waiting, and hoping, and forgiving. But when it came down to it…you weren’t there.”

The words felt final, and they hung between them like an open wound. Drew’s chest rose and fell as he tried to breathe through the weight of her truth. His eyes searched hers, pleading for forgiveness, for some sign that they could still fix this. But he saw it. He saw the hurt that had festered for too long, and he knew.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice broken, as though that could be enough.

Y/N smiled sadly, her hand dropping to her side as she met his gaze, her eyes filled with tears she couldn’t hold back anymore. “I love you too, Drew. But love isn’t always enough.”

For the first time, Drew’s heart shattered. He reached for her, but this time, Y/N didn’t move closer. She took a step back, her heart breaking as she turned away from him, leaving the man she thought she’d spend forever with standing in the darkened room, alone.

The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, it was quiet once again. The silence that used to be comforting now felt like an unbearable weight one that neither of them could carry anymore.

And for the first time, Drew Starkey realized the cost of not being there when it mattered most.

Drew stood there, frozen in place as the sound of the front door clicked shut behind her. The rain outside pounded harder against the windows, almost as if it mirrored the storm inside his chest. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But it was no use.

The empty silence that followed her departure was louder than any argument they’d ever had. It echoed in the space around him, filling the gaps she left behind. His hands dropped to his sides as he stared at the door, half-expecting her to come back, to burst through and tell him this was all just a terrible dream.

But she didn’t.

Drew stumbled toward the couch, collapsing into it, burying his face in his hands. His mind raced, replaying every moment, every argument, every missed call. How had he let it get this bad? How had he been so blind?

She’d been there for him through everything the chaos of his career, the nights when he was too exhausted to hold a conversation, the days when he was so wrapped up in his work that he forgot to check in. Y/N had been the constant in his life, the only thing that felt real amidst the madness. But he hadn’t been there for her. Not in the way she needed. And now, he wasn’t sure he ever could be.

Drew could still see the pain in her eyes when she said those words “You weren’t there when I needed you most.” They cut deeper than anything anyone had ever said to him. She had been his rock, and he’d taken her for granted. He thought she would always understand, always wait. But love wasn’t a one-way street, and he’d driven her away without realizing it.

A wave of nausea rolled through him, and he leaned forward, gripping the edge of the couch. He needed to do something anything to make this right. But as the minutes ticked by, he couldn’t think of a single way to fix what had broken between them. The damage was already done. And the worst part? He knew that no apology, no grand gesture could erase the moments he missed. The moments when she’d needed him to be there, and he wasn’t.

Y/N walked down the rain soaked streets, her heart heavy with every step she took away from the man she had once thought she’d spend her life with. The cool air clung to her skin, mixing with the tears she hadn’t realized were falling. She pulled her coat tighter around her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop the ache in her chest.

She hadn’t wanted it to end like this. In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined that walking away from Drew would be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. But somewhere along the way, she’d lost herself in loving him. In waiting for him. In hoping that one day, he’d realize she needed more than his love from afar.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she knew it was him before she even looked. Drew had already called twice, sent a text, but she couldn’t bear to answer. Not now. The pain was too raw, too fresh. She needed space, time to breathe, to think without the weight of his presence pressing on her heart.

She sat down on a bench under the cover of an old awning, watching the rain dance on the pavement. Her mind wandered back to the beginning, to the early days of their relationship when everything had felt so easy, so right. Drew was charming, sweet, and full of passion everything she had fallen for. But as his career skyrocketed, she started to feel like a shadow, always there, but never truly seen.

She loved him. She probably always would. But love wasn’t enough to fill the empty spaces that had grown between them. Love couldn’t erase the nights she spent crying alone, or the times she needed him and found herself staring at her phone, hoping for a call that never came.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time, she glanced at the screen.

Drew Please. I’m sorry. I need to see you.

Y/N’s thumb hovered over the reply button, her heart aching with the familiar pull she felt whenever she thought of him. She could feel his pain in those words, and a part of her wanted to turn around, to go back and try to fix things. But another part of her the part that had been hurt too many times held her back.

It was a cycle, one that had been repeating for too long. She would forgive, they’d fall back into each other’s arms, and then, eventually, he’d drift away again. And she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep sacrificing her own happiness for the hope that things would change.

She needed to break free. Not because she didn’t love him, but because she finally realized she needed to love herself more.

Drew sat in the darkened living room, staring blankly at the text message he had just sent. His hand shook as he held the phone, waiting for a reply that he knew deep down might never come. He could feel her slipping further away with every second that passed.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room again as frustration and fear gnawed at him. His mind raced with memories of her, the way she laughed, the warmth of her touch, the comfort of her presence. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

In a moment of desperation, he grabbed his jacket and bolted out the door. The rain poured down in sheets as he ran through the streets, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to find her. He had to tell her how much she meant to him, how sorry he was for all the ways he’d failed her.

But when he reached her apartment building, he stopped, drenched and out of breath. He stared up at the windows, knowing she was up there, somewhere. He wanted to go inside, to beg her for another chance. But instead, he stood there, feeling the weight of everything he had lost.

Because he knew…sometimes, even love couldn’t fix what was already broken.

Drew stood in the rain, his chest heaving as he stared up at the lit window that once felt like home. Every fiber of his being wanted to run inside, to fight for her, to make her see how sorry he was. But he also knew that words weren’t enough. Not anymore. He had spent so much time being distant, so much time putting his career first, that he’d missed the most important thing: her.

Y/N was inside, no doubt trying to make sense of everything, just as he was. But Drew understood now no matter how much he loved her, she couldn’t keep picking up the pieces of their broken relationship alone.

As the rain soaked through his clothes, he felt something break inside him. Maybe it was the realization that she might never come back. Or maybe it was the weight of knowing that he had pushed her to this point. But whatever it was, it left him hollow.

Suddenly, the door to the building creaked open, and Y/N stepped out, her eyes locking on Drew as if she had been expecting him. She hesitated for a moment, her face a mix of sadness and resolve.

“You’re here,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the rain.

Drew swallowed, taking a hesitant step forward. “I…I had to see you.” His voice cracked with desperation. “I needed you to know how sorry I am.”

Y/N nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as she stepped out from under the awning, the rain clinging to her skin. “I know you’re sorry, Drew. But I don’t think an apology can fix this anymore.”

He flinched at her words, his heart breaking all over again. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. I just…I didn’t know how to balance it all. I thought…I thought you’d always be there, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head, her voice shaking. “That’s just it. I was always there, Drew. But I needed you, too. And you weren’t. Not when it really mattered.”

Drew’s throat tightened as he watched the pain play out across her face. “I know. I know I messed up. But can’t we can’t we try again? Please? I’ll be better this time, I swear.”

Y/N looked down at the ground, her tears mixing with the rain as they fell. She let out a shaky breath, lifting her eyes to meet his once more. “I can’t keep doing this, Drew. I’ve been holding on to the hope that things would change for too long. But every time, I’m the one who ends up hurting.”

The rawness in her voice shattered what little hope he had left. Drew felt his knees weaken, his voice breaking as he tried one last time. “I’ll change. I’ll make it right. Just…don’t go. Please.”

For a long moment, Y/N just stood there, watching him, her heart aching as she took in the sight of the man she loved the man she had always loved, but could no longer save. She stepped forward, her hand reaching up to gently touch his cheek, her thumb wiping away a stray raindrop or was it a tear?

“I love you, Drew. But this time, I need to choose me.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and her touch lingered for a moment longer before she pulled away.

Drew felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as he realized that this was it, this was the moment he’d feared for so long. The moment where his mistakes had finally caught up to him, and there was nothing left he could say to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the rain. Then, with one final glance, Y/N turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the night.

Drew watched her go, the world around him spinning in slow motion as the weight of her absence settled over him like a lead blanket. He had always thought he had time. Time to make it right, time to fix the broken pieces of their relationship. But now, standing alone in the rain, he understood the harsh truth:

Sometimes, love isn’t enough to keep someone from walking away.

And sometimes, the hardest part is realizing that when they needed you most, you weren’t there.

As Y/N disappeared into the city streets, Drew whispered into the night, knowing it was too late for her to hear him:

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been there.”

But the rain kept falling, and she was gone.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 27

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 6k

Masterlist

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Thursday, December 24th; 4:30 PM - Home.

Tonight is Christmas Eve, and on this festive day, we decided to help Sam out in the kitchen. Joan came up with the idea, and Mapi and I agreed. It seemed like the best way for us to keep busy and distract ourselves. Sam was skeptical at first, but he couldn't refuse our help considering the mountain of work awaiting him. Surprisingly, we're not doing too badly for people who never cook. The only thing I can claim to make successfully is pasta, and even then, it's debatable. I've always had professionals like Sam to cook for me since I was old enough to be in the kitchen. As for my childhood, my mother wasn't particularly present to bake with me. She was the type to prioritize her job. Today, though, I'm actually enjoying cooking. Sam took charge to make things easier for us. He put Mapi and me in charge of the appetizers and took my little brother under his wing for the dessert. For the appetizers, he planned to make small finger foods and toasts. We started with the finger foods so they could bake in the oven while we prepared the toasts.

"You're seriously stingy! Look at how little cheese you put!"  

"And you look at the mountain of it you've used!" I retorted.  

"Better too much than not enough!"  

"You should check what we still have left to do. Look, it won't be enough!"  

Cooking will always be difficult, especially if I have to team up with Mapi. We can never find a middle ground.  

"Hey girls, that's enough," Sam teases.  

Mapi sticks her tongue out at me. I giggle and shake my head. It's amazing that Sam hasn't gone crazy yet. We've been like this since we started. He must have realized we're just bickering for fun. At least we're no longer playing with the food. I thought he was going to strangle us when he caught us having a mini food fight while prepping the little puff pastries.

"Do you think we could put poison in some of these?" I whispered to Mapi.  

"I heard that, Ona, and it's out of the question!" Sam reprimands me.  

"Is that why you wanted to cook?" she laughs. "I'm sure your uncle Cage would be thrilled."  

"He's not my uncle," I replied curtly.  

"He will be by marriage if your mom ever marries Marcus."  

I pull a face, which doesn't go unnoticed by Mapi, who bursts out laughing. She gives me a sympathetic nudge. I'm glad my mom allowed Mapi to stay with us for the holidays. At least I'll have company among this bunch of idiots. I don't like my "new" family, and I'm not one to be two-faced. At least my mom was kind enough to invite my grandfather from Portugal by getting him a plane ticket. I wouldn't have liked the idea of him being alone for Christmas. He should be arriving soon. Hector left to pick him up at the airport a little while ago.

"Are you almost done?" Sam asks us.  

"Almost," I replied.  

"You're so slow! We're already done!"  

I look at my brother, outraged, as he grins from ear to ear. I get up to catch him before he can escape and torture him with tickles. He laughs and wriggles around, trying to get free. I stop only when I think it's enough. Finally, I pick him up and place him on my lap when I sit back down. He helps us finish the last of the toasts. Sam pitches in as well to wrap things up faster.

"Who would've thought I'd see this one day... My granddaughter cooking."

"Grandpa!"  

"Hey, Grandpa Batlle," Mapi greets him.

I put Joan on my chair and go give him a hug. He gladly accepts my embrace, holding me tightly. I see him so rarely during the year that I cherish every moment with him. Especially since he's not getting any younger. He'll be turning eighty-six this year.

"How are you, my little one?"  

"I'm not that little anymore," I chuckled. "How are you?"  

"I'm always good when I see you," he replies, widening my smile.  

"Come on, I'll show you your room! If Sam allows me, that is..."  

"Go on, get out of here," he laughs.

I thank him profusely. Mapi helps me carry my grandfather's things to the guest room closest to mine. We make sure he's settled in before heading out when we realize the time. It was time to get ready. Mapi is the first to take a shower. I use the time to text Lucy and respond to Alexia. I had texted my roommate this morning but never had the chance to continue the conversation. I found out that she hates family gatherings as much as I do. Since what happened with their mother, her grandparents have been the only ones there for them. The rest of her family barely keeps in touch. I suppose that incident broke something in their family. Since then, she barely sees them. They all live in England, where her grandparents live too. I thought they lived near Manchester, as she had never mentioned it. At least I won't be the only one needing to find a place to stay after New Year's. When I told her about it, she said there would likely be no problem staying with the Leah and Alessia. I'll just need to let them know. She was also thrilled to hear that we'll be celebrating with them in Manchester. She also learned that her girlfriend is spending the evening with friends not far from us. She's already plotting a scheme to include Mapi and me to go join her. According to her: "We just need to make sure Alba doesn't notice we're gone...". Needless to say, it sounds like a mission impossible. Despite my warnings since this morning, she insists on seeing her. On the one hand, I understand. Their chances to see each other are very limited. The wait between each reunion must feel long every time, but this would really cause us trouble. Mapi comes out of the bathroom before I get any replies. I take my shower quickly, given the time. I decided to curl my hair tonight. It was Mapi's idea, and I agreed. I finish curling my hair and exit. Rolling my eyes, I see a dress waiting for me on the bed.

"Are you kidding me? You really want me to wear a dress for this bunch of yokels?"  

"Don't be so rude about your family."  

"First, they're not my family, and second, you know I hate wearing dresses... Making me wear one for them is the last straw."  

"Oh, please," she rolls her eyes. "Make an effort. For me," she argues. "I love seeing you in dresses. They suit you so well."  

"You owe me for this!"  

I grumble as I grab the dress off the bed without much care. I head to the closet to find some underwear. I'm grateful she didn't go through that drawer, even though she's probably the person who knows my underwear collection best. She would have been capable of pulling out the only sexy set I foolishly bought at her urging back in the day. If she's making me wear that now, I dread to think what she might have in mind for New Year's. Whatever I say, she always gets the final word on my outfits, somehow. I come out dressed, making her smile when she sees me.

"Perfect! Now come here so I can do your makeup."

I sit on the bed without complaining, letting her pamper me. It's been our tradition for a long time, and we've never lost it. We finish before our planned time. I sigh as we head downstairs. I feel like I'm waddling like a duck in the heels Mapi forced on me. I much prefer flat shoes, though I admit heels do slim down and highlight my legs. We take advantage of our extra time to help Sam set our appetizers on the coffee table in the living room. I start to get anxious thinking about the people who will soon fill my living room.

My mother, Marcus, and my grandfather join us. Things are still tense between my mother and me. My brother, who is sitting on my lap, livens things up by playing with Mapi next to me. It's only ten minutes later that the living room begins to fill with my grandmother and Marcus's family. Since my parents were both only children, I never had a large family. What I can't stand is that the room is fuller with a family that's not mine. It's as if I don't belong in my own home.

Unlike my parents, Marcus has a sister. She comes to the house regularly for events with their mother, her husband, and their little boy who is Joan's age. I don't have any particular issue with her or their mother. They've always been very kind to me. The person I can't stand is her husband. I find him very arrogant, and we can't tolerate each other. I learned this morning that his father will be joining us. My parents invited him because he just lost his wife and would have spent the evening alone. I hope his son doesn't take after him; otherwise, I won't be able to stand him.

Finally, all the guests are gathered for Christmas Eve. The evening starts calmly for now. Almost everyone has a glass of champagne in hand - myself included - and they're chatting away. As for me, I'm mostly talking with my grandparents and Mapi. My brother abandoned us for little Colton as soon as he arrived. I'm downing glass after glass of champagne while listening to my grandfather's old jokes. When I go to pour myself a fourth glass, Mapi stops me, reminding me that I should stay sober for the upcoming dinner. I reluctantly agree with her and switch to water.

It's finally time to sit down for dinner.

 I sit between my little brother and my grandfather, who are the youngest and oldest at the table, respectively. Across from me is Mapi, who is seated between Colton and my maternal grandmother. Fortunately, my best friend has already attended one of my family gatherings. She knows everyone and how to interact with them. The rest of the table includes Marcus's mother, my mother, and Marcus himself on my side. Across from them are Marc and Cage , along with Marcus's sister. I would've preferred they sat on the other side, sparing me from having to endure their faces for the rest of the evening.

Luckily, I'm distracted by my best friend, but also by Alexia, who continues to text me. I've also received a reply from Lucy, whom I wished happy holidays with her loved ones. She simply replied the same and told me to enjoy myself.

"Ona, Ona!" my little brother calls out, shaking my leg to pull me away from my phone.  

"Hmm? What's up?"  

"Can you draw me a butterfly?" he asks, holding out a piece of paper. "Colton keeps making fun of me," he whines.

I glance over at the little boy, who indeed is laughing at him. I see why when I look at what should be a butterfly on his paper. It's really not very good. I clear my plate and utensils to make space.

"Alright, come here."

He smiles and eagerly climbs onto my lap. As if he knew what I wanted to do, he raises his hand, holding a pencil between his fingers. I smile back, placing my hand over his. He's always loved drawing together like this. He used to tell me that it's the only way he'll ever be able to replicate my drawings. He lets me guide him hand in smooth strokes across the back of his paper, where I take up all the space to draw his butterfly. There's nothing like the radiant smile of my brother when he sees the final result.

"Can I go get some colored pencils?" he asks me excitedly.

"Of course," I say with a smile.

"You have a real talent for art, Ona," comments Marc as she leaves.

I lift my head in his direction, surprised. I didn't expect a comment from this new stranger.

"It's just a butterfly," I reply nonchalantly.

"Sure, but you have a good hand. A portrait by you must be impressive to see."

"I don't draw portraits. I prefer landscapes or whatever comes to mind."

"Ona is modest," Mapi interjects. "You should see her sketchbooks and paintings. They're beautiful!"

I glare at Mapi and kick her under the table. Hasn't she realized I don't want to discuss this here?

"Do you plan to work in this field?" he asks me.

My jaw tightens. Oh no. This is definitely not the topic to talk about here, Marc... Before I can even respond, my mother steps in.

"I steered Ona toward medicine," she says. "I discovered her passion for art very late. Salvador wanted to guide her in that direction, but I found medicine to be more practical for her, not knowing how far this passion would take her."

How dare she bring up my father at a time like this? I didn't even know they had discussed my future together.

"That's a real shame," Marc replies. "Your daughter has a real gift, especially if she's never had formal lessons."

"It was a very tense discussion at the time, but I decided it was better to guide her toward something secure," she continues. "It's hard to break into that field these days."

"You'd be surprised. With a little talent, motivation, and support, she could have every chance of succeeding. It all depends on what she wants."

I listen to this discussion about me without saying a word. Marc glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I'm seething in my chair, having not had a single opportunity to speak. As usual, my mother speaks for me. Marc, however, gives me a chance to express myself by asking a direct question.

"You also need to know people in the field if you want a little extra help. Do you happen to know anyone?" he asks me.

"No, but I could have found some if I had been given the freedom to choose my own future."

"Ona..." my mother tries.

"No, Mom. Stop thinking you know what's best for me!" I finally snap. "If I went into medicine, it was only because Dad convinced me to at the time. If I had known he wanted to encourage me to follow my dreams, I would have started studying in that field a long time ago!"

A hint of surprise crosses my mother's face. She seems to know where I'm heading, given the look on her face.

"What do you mean, you would have studied in that field a long time ago?"

"Oh, don't give me that look," I mock her cruelly. "I've never liked science, and you know it. It's your thing, and you're dead wrong if you think I'm going to follow in your footsteps. I'm old enough now that you can't decide for me anymore. Dad may not be here, but that doesn't stop me from finding support that encourages me just as much as he did to pursue my dreams! These are people who believe in me, unlike you!"

"Ona..."

I could have kept going, pouring out all my thoughts to my mother, but the arrival of my brother at the doorway with a terrified expression stops me. I realize, thanks to him, that I stood up in anger. I close my eyes, cursing myself for breaking my promise to him once again. I couldn't stop myself from shouting at my mother. Mapi immediately pulls me into the kitchen. The room is empty since my mother allowed Sam to go home and enjoy the holidays with his family after preparing everything. I growl as I pour myself another glass of champagne without hesitation. Mapi doesn't stop me from downing it in one gulp.

"I can't believe this... Talking about this at Christmas! How could she even dare mention my father!" I roar furiously.

"Calm down."

"How can I calm down?" I snap. "Why does she always feel the need to control and ruin my life? Doesn't she understand that I'm much better off without her?!"

"She only wants what's best for you..." she tries to soften the situation.

"It's not by forcing me to do something I don't like that she's going to make my life better!"

"Alright, that's enough now!"

The words I was about to say in response get stuck in my throat, unable to come out. It's the first time Mapi has raised her voice against me. I look at her for a moment before averting my eyes and sulking in my corner, pouring more champagne into my glass.

"Call Bronze."

"What?" I frown.

"That's what you do when you're upset, right? So call her!"

I open my mouth but close it again, still frowning.

"No. Absolutely not," I shake my head. "I'm not going to call her on Christmas Eve. Even less to talk about my problems."

"Then you'd better calm down right now! Sure, this conversation shouldn't have happened, but that's no reason to ruin the evening for everyone."

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. How did I end up here on Christmas Eve? Everything had started off so well. Even Cage hadn't annoyed me with one of his inappropriate remarks that I hate so much.

"I need to be alone..." I whisper.

"Ona—"

"I won't do anything, I just need to calm down alone... Please."

Seeing that I wouldn't change my mind, she nods briefly. She still comes closer to kiss my cheek before leaving. I take a deep breath, leaning against the counter. I look at my glass, which I didn't have time to fill, and the bottle. I grab it, ready to drink straight from it, but I put it down abruptly, not without groaning in frustration. Alcohol isn't a solution. There's only a little left, but the advice from my supervisor ringing in my head keeps me from finishing it. I hear the door open and close behind me. I was about to scold Mapi, thinking it was her returning, but I'm surprised to find Joan when I turn around. He stays at a distance for a moment, as if to see if I'm still angry, before rushing over to me. I sigh, bending down to pick him up and hug him tightly.

"I'm sorry for losing my temper again," I whisper after a while.

"I don't blame you, Oni," he says, hugging me even tighter.

We stay like that for a few minutes before I set him down. He still doesn't let go of me. I ruffle his hair absentmindedly, then freeze as I realize it's Lucy's gesture. A small smile spreads across my face as I better understand this gesture of affection toward me.

"Did Mapi send you?"

"No."

"And tell the truth?"

"Alright... But you won't tell her I told you, right?" he asks, making me chuckle.

"Promise. She won't know."

I kiss him on the forehead before we return to the dining room. The meal has resumed, and no one comments on our return. My mother and Marcus take the opportunity to bring out the starters, which consist of foie gras accompanied by toast and salad in small dishes. My grandfather tries to make me laugh with his new jokes or stories. I appreciate the effort, even though I already know them all by heart. It's the thought that counts, after all. He's adorable. When the starters arrive, I send a photo to my friends on Snapchat. Surprisingly, Lucy replies. It's the first time, even though I've sent her many photos since yesterday. I think I went overboard, but she never complained about my excess.

From Commandante; 8:11 PM - I'm jealous. A starter like that should be shared!

Her message makes me smile, but I don't respond. It's nine o'clock when we start dinner. Mapi and I helped Joan with his butterfly drawing. We also got caught up in a conversation with my remaining two grandparents. I talked about school, mentioning Lucy a lot, like the time she made me clean the showers on all fours. Let's just say they had a good laugh at my expense. I think that was the punishment that left the biggest impression on me, along with scrubbing toilets. It was a good way to break me in during the first few days. I realize how far I've come since then. I'm nothing like the cheeky kid Lucy talked about.

"Where are you in school, Ona?" asks Cage. "I thought you hadn't studied after your diploma."

"Cage... I don't think this is the right time to talk about that," Marcus intervenes.

"I was sent to a military camp in Manchester," I blurt out.

"I thought it was a school?" comments my grandmother, probably glancing at my mother.

"It is. It's a strict school with instructors outside of classes," I reply. "I later found out it's for young people with certain problems."

"Excuse me? I thought there was no question of sending her there!" my grandmother snaps.

I exchange a wide-eyed look with Mapi. She seems just as surprised as I am by this new debate between my grandmother and my mother. As the conversation goes on, I start to understand that my mother promised to send me to a normal school, not this kind. According to my grandmother, I was perfectly fine and didn't need, I quote, "a disciplinary education." No one dares intervene in this new debate. Mapi signals me to step in as the tension escalates. I glance at Marcus, who looks utterly desperate about the turn the dinner has taken. I try to follow the conversation, where my mother is telling her that she has no right to tell her how

 to raise me. At that moment, I decide to intervene by hitting the table, creating silence in the room.

"Stop, we're not going to start debating about me again!" I growl. "Grandma, I should thank you for defending me, but I assure you everything is fine. Even though I was reluctant and angry at Mom for sending me there, this school is the best thing that could have happened to me. I'm far from home, I've made friends, and most importantly, I'm really listened to there."

"Are you sure, dear?" she asks in a much calmer tone.

"Absolutely. I'm even thinking about staying in Manchester after my year ends. Now that everything's clear, can we finish and enjoy this evening normally?!"

No one dares respond. I take the initiative to pick up my utensils.

"Alright, let's eat now."

Silence is followed by the sound of utensils on plates. I've had my share of family dinners, but this one is the worst I've ever experienced. I eat without paying attention to anyone, even though the conversations gradually resume.

"When were you going to tell me about this idea?"

I look up at Mapi, trying to figure out what she means. I part my lips as I realize and sigh. I haven't talked about my desire to leave with Mapi yet. I've been thinking about it for a while, but Lucy rekindled the idea by suggesting I stay in Manchester. The prospects are much more viable. The weather and temperatures aren't the best, but I'll leave much more behind there than here. Everyone wants to stay in Manchester, including Alexia, who wants to be closer to her girlfriend

- It's nothing very concrete...

- But you're thinking about it.

- I need to leave here, I admitted.

- You could have told me, she grumbled.

- Nothing's certain. I might just stay here until I find other plans. I might end up in Madrid.

- You hate Madrid , she scoffed. You mentioned support... Who are you talking about?

- Bronze, Alexia, Leah, I listed. Pretty much everyone. We all want to stay there, I admitted.

- Doesn't Bronze already live there?

- Probably, I have no idea, I shrugged. She's the one who gave me the idea to stay.

She sighed, making a pouty face. I felt guilty for not telling her sooner. Especially since I hadn't really thought of her when making this decision. She fiddled with her fork, resting her head on her hand. She seemed to be processing the news.

- You're taking me with you then, right? Like, we could be roommates at first, that would be cool, wouldn't it?

I wasn’t expecting that kind of response. I smiled at the thought.

- Of course, if you're ready to leave everything here behind.

She smiled back at me, which eased the tension. When dinner was over, we volunteered to clear the table. We each carried a stack of plates to the kitchen.

- You really need to tell me what makes that city so special that it's made you change so quickly in such a short time. You’ve never cleared a table in your life! Seriously, I’m still upset you didn’t tell me!

- Will you get over it? I teased. For all we know, it might not even happen, so stop being mad at me for it. You know I don't like talking about my plans before they're clear.

- Admit that even if you don’t stay, you'll go back one day.

- Probably, but I really want to go back to Portugal.

- Even worse! she groaned, making me laugh. Well, just know that wherever you go, I’ll follow you. We might not be together anymore, but you're still the most important person to me.

- I’ll try to remember that...

I smiled at her sympathetically. Her words touched me. I knew she wasn’t joking. We put the plates in the dishwasher, then went upstairs. It was almost midnight, the time when we usually opened presents. So, Mapi helped me bring down the ones I had hidden in the closet. We placed them under the tree, where more gifts had already been added. I wasn’t even sure if my mom and Marcus managed to find a Santa Claus, but I hoped they did. After all, there were still two kids who believed in him. When we were done, we were called for dessert. We returned to the table to find a plate filled with little pastries prepared by Samuel. My favorites, no less. There was crème brûlée accompanied by a small chocolate fondant, a fruit salad, a scoop of ice cream, and coffee for those who drank it. Mapi had one, unlike me. She’d managed to acquire a taste for it during her all-nighters studying for important exams. When she told me about it, I had a perfect image of Mapi in front of her books with a huge mug of coffee by her side. Joan kept picking at my plate. He argued that he barely ate his main course. I finally gave him my ice cream because he looked too cute. Midnight arrived faster than I expected. It was a bell that interrupted our meal. Everyone got up, knowing exactly what it meant. I was glad they’d managed to find a Santa. Joan was the first to run to the door with Colton. They were followed by my mom, who went to open it. A stranger with the costume on his shoulders stood at the door. I expected Joan's attitude to be different from previous years, but he got scared when the man asked for a kiss. He ran to me, asking to be held. Mapi teased him, earning a playful slap from me.

- Stop it, Maps.

My smile wasn’t very convincing to her. I then placed my brother on my hip. The poor thing was panicked. He buried his head in my neck to hide. We headed to the living room, where the rest of the family had gathered. I tried to put my sister down once we got there, but it seemed like he had no intention of letting go. So, I kept him with me as I sat on the couch with Mapi. I couldn’t even remember how I reacted at his age, but I found it funny to see him like this when he’d been so excited to meet Santa for days. I managed to convince him to turn around so he could at least see what was happening in the room. The man in costume kept asking him questions. I reassured him and encouraged him to join Colton. He hesitated for a moment until he saw him next to the tree, which was filled with presents. He quickly left my side to join him.

- His fear passed quickly, huh, Mapi whispered with an amused tone.

- It was bound to.

- How about a song before you open the gifts, hmm?

Once again, Mapi tried not to laugh. Against all odds, Joan and Colton started singing after sharing a glance. Apparently, bribery still worked on kids. The festivities began once the singing was over. The stranger—who I discovered was our neighbor—didn’t want to stay very long once the adults started exchanging gifts. He only accepted a glass of champagne that Marcus offered him. I got up to join my brother when I saw that he had spotted my present for him. I just managed to reach him as the first piece of wrapping paper hit the floor. His beaming smile hadn’t left her face since he saw the box. She immediately looked up at me.

- Did you order this for me?

I smiled at his innocence.

- Of course, sweetheart.

He jumped on me, repeatedly thanking me and saying it was the best gift he’d ever received. Thanks to Lucy for him brilliant idea. Without her, I wouldn’t have even noticed it. I sent her a picture as my brother tore off the rest of the wrapping paper. When he finished, he gave me a kiss before rushing to open it. I took advantage of him being occupied to retrieve Mapi's gift from under the tree. I jumped when I turned around and found her already standing in front of me. We both exchanged our gifts.

- Merry Christmas! we said at the same time.

We laughed at our synchronization. Mapi quickly opened her gift, so I did the same. I was surprised to find a jewelry box. Maybe I should have gotten her jewelry after all... I looked at her and was relieved to see that my choice seemed to make her happy. She hugged me before I could even open the box.

- You’re crazy! It’s a new one! I was in the store to smell it. How do you always get it right?

- I didn’t do it on purpose, I chuckled. Bronze helped me choose it.

- What?! You did your Christmas shopping with her? she exclaimed.

- Well, I had to since I was stuck at camp.

- Hmm, she said with a mischievous smile.

- Don’t start, I warned, narrowing my eyes.

- Sorry, I can’t help it, she giggled. Come on, open my gift.

I rolled my eyes before opening the box. I was slightly surprised before laughing. I expected a lot of things, but not this. I slipped my fingers under the necklace to get a better look at it.

- What? Don’t you like it? she asked, sitting beside me.

- We’re twenty, you know?

- So what? she pouted. You’re making lots of friends. At least they’ll know you already have a best friend!

I laughed again, prompting her to playfully hit my arm. I loved the idea, even if I thought it was a bit outdated. I broke the heart-shaped necklace in half, where it was inscribed, and gave her one half after taking it out of the box.

- This is for you, I assume?

- I would hope so! At least when you’re feeling down, you can look at this necklace and think of me. Even though I feel like you don’t need me as much these days.

- Don’t say that. I’ll always need you. Can you put it on me?

Her smile widened when I handed her my necklace. I lifted my hair so she could clasp it. As usual, she took a while because she could never close it. I let my hair down, fixing it, and then grabbed the pendant now hanging around my neck. I smiled when I read "Mapi" followed by a small "BFF" just below. I felt like I was going back many years. The necklace already meant a lot to me because of our friendship. She asked me to fasten hers, which I did gladly. It was the same, with my name on it. We were pulled out of our little bubble by my little brother asking us to play with him. The idea quickly left him mind when Colton showed him his new toys. It was well past midnight, but it was clear that our evening wasn’t going to end anytime soon given how energetic my little Joan was.

[whatshehassaid]

“I LOVED HER.” “BUT SHE DIDN’T LOVE YOU. Not like he did. Not like I have”

That isn’t Armand saying Claudia didn’t love Louis. She did. What he’s saying is that Louis was so fucking focused on PINING for Lestats love, superimposing Lestat on Claudia AND Armand that Louis refused to accept love from them. Because he didn’t want Claudia. He didn’t want Armand. He wanted Lestat and he couldn’t have him (whether it be because Louis convinced himself Lestat was bad, or dead, or because Louis is in denial). He tries to make villains out of Armand and Claudia.

“Speaking of mistakes…”

“Vintage Lioncourt.” “I’m not Lestat, Louis.” “Okay….”

“Picked ANOTHER ONE over ME”

“It was NEVER ABOUT ME. Another chapter in the FUCKED UP ROMANCE OF YOU TWO”

“If you want to escape this cage of empathy I’ve trapped you in all you had to do was ask, Louis.”

“Imagine me without the burden of her”

Louis can’t face the fact that he was IMPLICIT in what happened to Claudia in Paris. She wants a companion in Madeline cause she’s not getting in from Louis.

I feel like we may be going the route of Armand and Claudia (probably immediately after the trial and before her death) bonding over their experiences. Not just to do with Louis and Lestat… but their childhoods… being raped… being used… being turned so young…

I’m not 100% on this but if they do include the head swap thing (which is still fucked up, I’m still upset at Armand for that) I feel like Armand will frame it or believe that he can save her if he can just give her a woman’s body to match her mind. And I feel like Claudia will jump at the chance. Again, not 100% with that and it’s STILL super fucked up.. but I think if that happens Armand (AT THE TIME) would believe he was helping her. Like how he “helps” his victims. How he was never helped as a human child and as a vampire. They relate to each other because they’ve never been someone’s first choice… and I think the moment Armand hears her say those words (“it was never about me. Another chapter in the fucked up story/romance of you two”) he’s gonna realize how much they really have in common and feel empathy for her.

It makes a lot of sense with how Armand’s character (especially in the books) is. He has a thing about consent (it’s a bit twisted because you could argue he assumes he knows what’s best for people… and acts accordingly thinking that he’s helping them) But he needs people to consent at least somehow. Even if it’s coerced.

That’s also why I believe after Paris… Louis initially agreed to have the memories of his role in Claudia’s death suppressed. He couldn’t handle the guilt that he didn’t care enough to save her. Armand just took it to the point of constantly suppressing the triggering memories. Plus on TOP of that I’m 100% sure Louis is schizophrenic and it’s causing blackouts.

Armand wasn’t really lying when he said that “I protect Louis from himself.” He WAS being honest. It’s in a fucked up way, but I believe it’s true.

And then with Daniel, that’s a whole other can of worms because I don’t think Armand wiped his memories right after San Fran. I’m starting to believe it wasn’t just Louis telling him to keep Daniel alive. The minute Daniel admits he finds Armand fascinating… and tells him “you can read minds right?” Alluding to the fact that he ISN’T LYING. Daniel is intrigued by Armand… and that immediately catches Armand’s attention. We’ve only seen up to Louis attacking Daniel from an unbiased POV (the tape recording). The rest is MOSTLY FROM LOUIS. Who had had memories taken whether by Armand or by the blackouts… and remember he has a habit of trying to make himself look good in Daniel’s eyes. He tries to convince himself constantly that he’s not a bad guy - but in reality…. He’s done some shitty things too. So it wouldn’t surprise me if some of that was also lies to Daniel. “You’re a liar Louis. Whether you know it or not.”

Something happened in those 4 days with Armand and Daniel that I’m not sure Louis realizes. He may come in and out of actual remembrance where he KNOWS Armand and Daniel fell in love… and he uses it against them both… and then goes back into not knowing what’s happening.

I have a feeling we’re getting the trial/claudia’s death/a reveal about the blackouts etc/the fire from ARMAND. Hence the “imagine me without the burden of her” line that Louis says. He would NEVER in a million years admit to saying that. Definitely not to Daniel.

The Merrick storyline plays into this here. Finding Claudia’s diaries… realizing that Louis really treated her badly and that she hates him for it. And Louis not being able to take it.

I also feel like Lestat and Armand have teamed up in Dubai without Louis or Daniel realizing it. They may be trying to help cure him with the help of Dr. Bhansali.

(Also, devils minion definitely happened in the past… you can just see it in the way Armand sometimes looks at Daniel - and in the books even though he was a stickler for rules… his only exception has ALWAYS been Daniel. He loves Louis, he wouldn’t have put up with any of this if he didn’t… but Daniel? Daniel is really the love of Armand’s life. And Lestat is Louis’. I need them boys to figure this shit out - and with the fact that Daniel wasn’t listed in the Talamasca victims folder? Even though he was attacked, held hostage and tormented… means he is probably in ANOTHER folder - *cough* ARMANDSPARAMOURS *cough* I hope they have Daniel find his name in there cause THAT is gonna be J U I C Y.)