#Nightmare owes child support

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight-kilo baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of reluctance that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

[klbwriting]

Our Strange Duet

Chapter 6: Nightmare

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: some violence, Bruce Wayne is a terrible father

Summary: YN tells Jason about Bruce and Jason goes on patrol

Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch @amberpanda99

Notes: just because 2 anons asked this, yes, I'm not a big fan of Bruce Wayne or Batman, BUT I don't hate him as much as this story suggests, it's just for the narrative I need him to suck this much (and depending on which comic continuity you're reading, he does suck this much sometimes)

Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare? - Rent

               Jason moved aside, letting YN into the apartment.  Dick was chugging water, nearly spitting it out when he saw her and her bags.  She put them down by the door and moved to Jason, throwing her arms around him, hugging him tight.  She whispered something that Dick couldn’t hear, and Jason gripped her back, both of them just holding each other, ignoring the rest of the world.  Dick felt his heart pang in his chest.  Giant Jason, still something Dick couldn’t get used to, hugging this shorter girl, clearly gripping her tight but yet still being gentle, engulfing her until she was nearly one with him, and she was gripping him back just the same.  He was glad to see his little brother find someone that he could be like this with.  He needed someone more than his brother or his therapist, he needed someone to love him as he was now, without the baggage of his past.  YN seemed to be it. 

               “Love you Jason,” YN whispered to him, making him loosen his grip a little to pull back and look at her.  “I’m sorry about barging in like this…”

               “You are always welcome here, with me, anywhere with me,” he said.  “So why did you leave the apartment?”  She sighed and he led her to the couch, sitting down with her, not letting go of her hand.  Dick took a seat on the chair nearby.

               “I lied to you about what was paying for the apartment.  I really thought it was all Maroni and honestly, I felt ashamed to accept any money from him, but it was before we had met again and I didn’t have anywhere to go so I figured I would keep the place until I could get a job and afford something else,” she explained.  Jason’s grip tightened on her hand at the thought of her lying to him and she looked down.  “I could handle Maroni doing it, he probably owes so much in child support, and he listened when I told him not to contact me again, so what if he paid for my place for a while?  He owes me.  But Bruce?  He doesn’t owe me anything, he owes you and trying to use me to get to you?  That’s despicable.  And he had the place bugged so that he could hear use talking.  He told me when I went to see him that it wasn’t supposed to be me.  You were supposed to find out about the donor and then go marching to Wayne manor and I don’t know, fight him?  Thank him?” she finished her ramble and sat back, head falling to look at the ceiling. 

               “I’m going to call him,” Dick mumbled.  Jason shook his head, pulling back from YN.  He knew it was petty, but she had lied to him, everyone lied to him sooner or later. 

               “No, don’t, don’t bother,” Jason said.  He moved to grab his gear.  “I’ll be back, need to patrol tonight, big drug deal happening in Crime Alley.”  He looked at them both, barely making eye contact with YN.  “Maybe I’ll find the Batman while I’m at it, handle this myself.”  Dick got up but Jason shook his head.  “Take a night off Nightwing, see if your crime lab contact has information about that drug that Maroni is circulating.  I’ll see if I can get some samples of the actual drug tonight.  YN, whenever you want to get some sleep go ahead a use my bed I’ll stay on the couch when I get back.” 

               “Ok,” she whispered, the barely veiled hurt in her voice piercing through him, but then her voice saying ‘I lied to you’ came flooding into his mind and he just walked out the door without looking back. 

               “I really messed up, didn’t I?” YN said as she and Dick sat at the table.  He had made truly horrible lasagna for dinner, so they were eating frozen pizza as the smoke slowly dissipated from the room.  He nodded slowly and she looked down, forehead meeting the table.

               “He will understand after thinking about it.  I mean, you had just met again, you had already been living in that place for months and you never really knew who was paying for it.  Not like you sought Maroni out for confirmation,” he said.  “It’s just…”

               “Jason doesn’t trust easily and its incredibly easy to break his trust,” she finished, sitting back up.  Dick nodded.  “I still can’t believe Bruce would do something like this, all of this cloak and dagger shit just because he is scared of talking to his son.” 

               “I’m not that surprised by all this.  When me and Bruce first fought, he used Jason to draw me out, pull me back in,” he said.  She looked at him, shocked.  “O you didn’t know?  Me and Bruce fought about me wanting to be something different than what he had made me.  I wanted to be more ruthless, I didn’t care so much about saving the bad guys, not like Bruce.  I left and a year later he’s got another Robin, a kid around the same age I was when he took me after my parents’ deaths.  He didn’t contact me, had Robin do it.  And I, unlike Jason, felt right into Bruce’s trap.  Not only did I fall right back into the family, but I even lightened up, tried to be a good role model for him.  Then Jason killed that drug dealer…”

               “He killed someone as Robin?” YN asked, making Dick look at her as if he had forgotten she was there.  He nodded, eyes a little glazed over with the memory. 

               “He doesn’t know that he killed him.  They were fighting on a roof, Jason had chased him up there after finding not only a pile of drugs in his apartment, but also a photo album full of children…” he shivered, and YN made a disgusted face.  “So, Jason was livid, that rage he gets from the pit, it was always there inside of him, the pit just makes it come out easier, but it was always there.  That night he used it, kicked that asshole right off the roof.  Bruce was climbing the side of the building, trying to get to him before anything happened, the body fell right passed him to the ground.  I was there on the ground, just arriving from another bust up and found it.  Bruce took Jason back to the manor and laid into him, telling him he was lucky that the guy wasn’t dead.  Then Jason said, ‘I wish he was, people like that shouldn’t get to live’ and that was when Bruce gave up, I think.  Even though Jason didn’t die for another six months, that moment there was when he died for Bruce.”

               “What a pile of shit, he just gives up on his kids whenever they decide not to be like him?” YN said.  Dick nodded.  “I don’t like that Jason kills people either, but I have to see him kill someone who didn’t deserve it and a guy who clearly is abusing kids deserves it.  How late will Jason be out do you think?  I want to talk to him.”

               “I wouldn’t expect him back, he will probably go to a safe house by the school and get ready there before going to class,” Dick said.  YN sighed and stood up from the table, starting to clear it.  “Don’t do that, you’re a guest.”  She stopped, looking at him.  “You’re not going anywhere, are you?  I might as well accept that you’ve moved in?”

               “No, I will find someplace, I just don’t know when, but I promise I’m not going to be a freeloader, let me do anything around here.  I can cook and clean and I’ll pay you whenever I can…” she rambled.  Dick walked over and put his hands on her shoulders.

               “YN, calm down, you are family, and despite what we learned from Bruce we don’t abandon family,” he said.  She nodded and hugged him for a second.  He patted her back before he let her clear the dishes, cleaning up his dead lasagna. 

               Jason did as he said, busting up the drug deal, and getting a sample of the new drug before the cops arrived to clear out the rest.  He stowed it away before heading into Old Gotham.  Batman would be patrolling around there that night.  Jason had kept up with what Batman and the new Robin did, always wanting to avoid them.  But today he sought Bruce out.  He wanted to draw him out fine.  But this was it, he would be done after this.  He wasn’t Dick, he didn’t care that Bruce had another kid under his wing, whenever Robin figured out that Batman wasn’t his friend or his dad then Jason would find him.  He could join the new family, the Robins Who Need Their Own Arkham club.  He soon found his prize, watching the Bat fight a few gangsters in an alleyway near the Iceberg Lounge.  Once he was finished Jason threw one of his Red Hood batarangs, making sure it soared right in front of Batman’s face.  Batman looked up and Jason walked away, going further onto the roof. 

               “Knew you would find me eventually,” Batman said from behind him.  Jason turned slowly, hands settling on his guns.  He knew that the armor was bullet proof, but his bullets would still hurt like hell.

               “I shouldn’t be the one arranging this meeting,” he said back.  He felt the rage in him, but he put a cork on it, bottling it until he needed it.  “I only came to say this, don’t go near her again.  Don’t ever do anything for her again.  Don’t contact her again, in any way.”

               “She came to me,” he answered.  Jason felt the cork loosen, one of his guns in his hand now.  Bruce looked at his hand and then back at the helmet. 

               “She did that to rid herself of you, now let her be done,” he said, the voice modulator not quite catching the menace in his voice.  The longer he stood there the more the rage threatened to spill over.

               “What about you?  Do you want rid of me?  Or are you going to come back, and we can talk?” Batman asked.  “Jason…”  That was it, his name, in that voice, he was gone.  The cork flew, releasing all the rage.  Jason was firing, Batman was dodging until he was on the edge of the roof.  Jason came running at him, tackling him over the side.  They were falling but, in that moment, Jason didn’t care, let him die again, he wanted to take Bruce with him.  Of course, that wasn’t what happened, Batman deployed the grappling hook and went up, letting Jason keep falling.  It was only a story, but still enough that when Jason landed, he heard the snap in his ankle, rolling and hissing as he nearly bit his tongue off trying not to scream.  He looked up to see Batman watching him for a moment before disappearing.  He opened his comms.

               “Nightwing?  I need help.”

               “I’m coming Red Hood, what do you need?”

[mysticfoxdesigns]

Who is your favorite human character from Rescue Bots?

(yet another example of a seemingly short post turning long)

My favorite human character in Rescue Bots has been tied between Kade and Dani. Dani is just a really fun character and I feel myself relating to her and her daredevilness. She in all is a pretty popular character as well.

Now I know that people don't generally like Kade

But I have my reasons.

I love asshole characters, especially ones that could be considered loveable assholes. I considered Kade to be one of the characters, even if the show didn't handle the trope well. Kade is honestly a character that needs to grow on you. Sometimes it's quick, sometimes it takes all four seasons. For me, it was the second episode.

That episode was honestly the peak of being an older sibling. How I know? I'm an older sibling.

In that episode we see our general Kade characteristics. He is egotistical, a jerk to Heatwave, and a jerk to members of his family. I honestly believe these are valid reasons to not like him, especially if your favorites are Heatwave or Cody. (Yes I am calling y'all out) However, he still cares about all of them, especially for the bots after that episode.

Kade literally older sibling freaked out when it was revealed Cody was in danger. He (mostly) kept his calm cause he is a first responder, that is in the job description to keep a level head, but he was still scared about Cody's safety. His first priority was getting there first to stop the lava, and when Heatwave revealed he was also scared for the younger Burns child, that is what started Kade's respect for him.

Now I will admit, how he got with Hayley was not a good example for a kids show. No one owes you a date just cause you save their life. However, if Hayley truly was not interested later on after that, she wouldn't continue going on dates with him. Their relationship from what we see in the show isn't the healthiest, but it's nothing bad to be purely honest. Hayley has boundaries she clearly sets, as seen in the episode where Kade gets cloned 5 times over. She speaks her mind to him, and pushes him to not be a complete jerk. And Kade respects her wishes! The show, if it did focus more on their relationship, could have pushed for Kade to have more character growth as their relationship grew. However, the show was not built to work with that kind of story plot.

As for how Kade acts with his family, you can see he instantly backtracks when he realizes his words have hurt his family. I truly believe he doesn't think before he speaks. A character flaw, yes, but it does not represent his true morals and ethics. He wouldn't be on a rescue team if he was a truly terrible person. In the episode where the bots are struck with a sickness from the meteor, he tries to rationalize the situation in his own way of coping. But as soon as he realizes that the way of coping he was using wasn't helping Cody, he changes his tune to support Cody's way of coping. In the Squilsh episode, we see him try to argue that he should be the last to leave the area, he didn't want to leave Graham behind and alone. It was Chief having to push him to Blade's ladder to make him leave and get to safety.

And it isn't like we don't see him being anything but an egotistical asshole, we see him genuinely scared. The gremlins episode is a perfect example of this. Kade had a big phobia of them, he barely got any sleep cause of nightmares dealing with them, and he didn't want to enter the power plant cause of it being overrun by them. However, it isn't like he didn't do anything to overcome it. He went to Doc Greene to find a solution, and when it did backfire, Kade didn't back down. Heatwave also showed some great character development in this episode, he didn't make fun of Kade too much for his fear, and even encouraged him to get into the powerplant. Kade was then able to overcome the fear, showing growth in his character.

And on the topic of Heatwave and Kade's relationship. They remind me so much of my own relationship with one of my best friends. We make fun of each other, we are assholes to each other, he makes fun of my autism, I make fun of him being a twink. But we are still best friends. We know the limits and boundaries of our jokes, and it isn't just us being assholes to each other 24/7. We have genuine hearts to hearts, we give each other advice, and we help each other out through difficulties in our life. This is exactly what Heatwave and Kade's relationship is, though not a direct parallel to my relationship.

Heatwave isn't innocent in the beginning with how he treats Kade, just as Kade is not innocent. They are both unfiltered, unreasonable assholes to each other. Heatwave is mad that Optimus Prime won't let him join the Prime Team, and he takes that out on being a pessimistic jerk to the situation they are in. He does not want to be on Griffin Rock, and that is evident. Kade, doesn't reasonably want to work and be inside of an alien. ANY REASONABLE PERSON WOULD BE LIKE THAT. However, it does not excuse his treatment of Heatwave, who is another sentient being. Heatwave is a genuine jerk throughout the first season. It is evident he only cares about his team and Cody. The flobster's episode is a good example of this, he won't care until it is his job. Now, he does grow out of this, which is good cause character development, we love that here.

As the season goes on we see their relationship develop into this friendly "I hate your guts but I will kill for you" situation. (Obviously they do not actually hate each other's guts, but they still act like it) This kind of character development is my favorite! The show does a good job at showing this as well. If you compare the first few episodes of season 1, with the episodes of season 3 and 4, you can see how their relationship has changed. Neither of them are scared to speak their mind, and there is obviously respect in the relationship. Kade and Heatwave have grown to understand and respect each other, while still being jerks to each other. Heatwave is not afraid to make fun of Kade and vice versa, which honestly I believe is a clear sign of a good and healthy relationship. You can point out flaws in each other, and no one is going to instantly get butthurt. Boundaries just have to be established and maintained.

I wish the show could have further explored more of these character developments, not just in Kade but in everyone. However, it is a kids show meant for preschoolers, they just want to watch cool transforming robots save the day.

Another thing with Kade is that it is so fun in the fandom sphere to add headcanons and backstory. I love a character who you can do that with.

[silentglassbreak]

I have to talk about it somewhere…

My divorce is now a separation? Idk. It’s been a ride. There’s a lot that goes into loving a human that lives with demons. We’re focusing on that, so that’s why I’m absent. I think about my stories often, but it’s just not the time.

What I came here to talk about today is heavy. Please be advised, under the cut, I’m going to talk about trauma. It’s rambling. Heavy SA warnings. Don’t proceed if it triggers you.

And don’t worry babe, it triggers me too…

I had a nightmare 2 nights ago, and it shook me. Those happen a lot since he moved out. It’s been a while that one has stuck with me this badly. It was about my abuser.

I have nowhere to talk about this aside from my support group (my village, so to speak) and it just feels like it’s building. So if you’re listening, I appreciate you.

When I was 15, I was best friends with a boy who was 2 years older than me. I was in love, and so was he. He lived 80 something miles away. We had all the same friends. He made effort. I used to go stay in his small town on weekends.

But at 17, he moved to my city, and everything changed. He was 19.

He learned he could do what he wanted after one night when I drank a large amount of rum, and he raped me on the kitchen floor, in front of everyone at the party, while I was blacked out.

No one said anything. No one stopped him.

I can’t drink rum to this day.

My brain blocked it out until 2 years ago. And the pieces started to fit.

For the following 2 1/2 years we were together, he fed me alcohol regularly, and forced himself on me. Inside me. Whenever he wanted. And when I said I didn’t want to, he guilt tripped me, called me cold, and told me I was his girlfriend, so I owed him.

If I kept saying I didn’t want to, he would choke me. Slap me. Tell me it was ‘kinky sex.’

Friends, I’m here to tell you, that is not. That is rape.

I was still so young. I was a child.

My friends cry remembering watching this happen. Cry remembering trying to stop him, but not doing more.

My husband cries realizing he didn’t find me sooner. That he didn’t kill the bastard when he had the chance.

It took too long to realize this was abuse. That I was a survivor. That I was damaged and traumatized.

That there is a reason I have panic attacks when I’m touched in the middle of the night.

That I don’t like having drunk sex.

That I am not untouched by a terrible man.

My identity was lost the day I realized.

If there’s anything in this life I will vow, it is to teach my daughter what consent is, and my son that no means no.

Drunk girls can’t consent.

Children can’t consent.

Consent is clear. It’s either yes or no. Clearly.

If you are one of the millions of women who have felt the same as me, and need someone, please know you are not alone. I’m here.

And if you’re here, and you’re listening, so am I.

It’s not an act of love if you make her.

You make me do too much labour.

[jordanianroyals]

Queen Rania of Jordan: Christmas is canceled in the land of Jesus’ birth

Washington Post Op-Ed, December 21, 2023 at 6:45 a.m. EST

[Read this piece in Arabic.]

Bethlehem usually comes alive at Christmas. Not this year. In the Holy Land, celebrations have been canceled: no parades, no bazaars, no public tree lightings. In my country, Jordan, where Jesus was baptized, our Christian community has chosen to do the same.

In the occupied West Bank, oneBethlehem church has adapted its nativity scene, placing the infant Jesus among the rubble of a bombed-out building. It is a reflection of the story playing out on screens everywhere: the horrific images of the destruction of Gaza, and especially, its bloodied and broken children.

I watch a video of a Gazan father stroking his daughter’s face, telling someone to look at how beautiful she is. She could almost be sleeping, if not for her white shroud.

I scroll on and see a young boy struggling through rain and flooded roads, carrying the body of an even smaller child he refused to leave behind. A mother holding her daughter’s limp body close: “Put your heart on my heart,” she tells her, crying out as others try to take her away. She was not ready to let her go.

We need to see in these children’s faces the faces of our own. Each of these videos is a desperate plea to the world to recognize their humanity and their hurt.

The people of Gaza have not lost hope in others’ humanity — even as so many fail to see theirs.

Since Oct.7, the vast majority of casualties in Israel, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip have been civilians. Whether killed, kidnapped or unjustly detained, each person leaves an unfillable void. There is no difference between the pain Palestinian and Israeli mothers feel over the loss of a child.

Every day that goes by without a cease-fire, so much more is being tragically lost.

In just over two months, Israel has turned Gaza into a hellscape. Almost 20,000 dead. At least 8,000 are children — more than the death tolls of Pearl Harbor, the Sept. 11 attacks and Hurricane Katrina combined.

About 2 million out of 2.2 million people in Gaza have been displaced — almost an entire population turned to refugees. More than 50,000 Gazans have been wounded, but only eight hospitals out of 36 are operational.

On top of all this, hunger. Nearly half of the people in Gaza are starving. In more than two months, less than a week’s worth of the aid they need has been allowed in. How could starving a population be considered a legitimate form of self-defense?

International organizations are now calling Gaza a graveyard for children. How perverse that the Holy Land should be described as something so profoundly unholy.

This has become an unequivocal humanitarian nightmare. With each passing day, the threshold of what is acceptable falls to new lows, setting a terrifying precedent for this and other wars to come.

No matter what side you support, you can still demand a cease-fire, the release of hostages and detainees, and unrestricted access to aid.

Some will brush this off as a bleeding-heart plea, arguing that an immediate cease-fire is neither strategic nor sustainable. It is an indictment of the times that a call for a return to sanity could be dismissed as sentimentality. We also hear many talking about peace the day after as though to absolve themselves of the responsibility to act now.

A cease-fire is just the beginning. We must also embark on the difficult process of rehumanization — recognizing the humanity of others and acting on that universal kinship.

I am a mother, and my heart breaks for parents in Gaza doing everything in their power to keep their children alive — and then losing them. All parents share the impulse to shield their children from the worst of the world. No matter who you are or where you come from, your instinct to care for and protect those you love is one you must honor in yourself but also in strangers — even adversaries. Honoring it selectively diminishes our own humanity.

There is another video I will never forget: a mother, saying her goodbyes to her children. After going to bed on empty stomachs, they had been killed in their sleep by an airstrike.

Their mother’s grief is unbearable; her guilt that they died hungry broke me. “It’s okay, my boy. You are with God now,” she says to one son. “I named him Ayoub [Job] for patience,” she explains, and then, through tears: “I will be patient, my child.”

In the Hebrew Bible, the New Testament and the Quran, the prophet Job loses his possessions, children and health. Yet, he remains steadfast in his faith. His patience is honored by Jews, Christians and Muslims, who, at different points in history, have shared the Holy Land in peace. His story is one of pain but also hope.

This war has to end. Today, it boils down to one question that each of us must answer: If you could prevent hundreds or thousands more children from dying, would you?

If so, demanding a cease-fire is the absolute minimum you can do. And we, all of us, must do so together.

[the-apples-were-monitored]

I fully believe that Dan knew what was happening. I know this is all vibes based, but him immediately asking Drake if it was him instead of the dozens of other kids on other Nick shows like All That feels WAY too convenient. Drake did a couple of other interviews. in the one with Sarah Fraser he talks about how when the Brian Peck letters finally got unsealed. He said that there were a LOT of people who wrote letters of support were people that went on to work with him on Drake and Josh. Two of the people that were in the courthouse were Kimmy Robrtson and Taran Killam. Kimmy is the one that wrote how Brian was "tempted beyond belief". They both went on to get bit parts in an episode of Drake and Josh.

yeah i saw those interviews this morning. that's my absolute nightmare. i spent years paranoid that everyone who was nice to me was secretly a spy for my abuser and to think that this actually happened to drake in some capacity...

i think you're completely correct. i mean it's not just to me that drake's dad had already confronted production about what he felt was concerning behavior so it wouldn't be hard to connect the pieces, but dan gives me major groomer vibes himself and i truly believe this was a culture of abusers enabling and protecting abusers. it's truly horrific. and to think terry had a bit part on the amanda show too. there were so many people who likely knew about this all this time but harbored ill feeling towards this child. and we can't just excuse it completely as maybe they didn't know the extent of the crime because they're not owed the gory details before they determine it's wrong to abuse a child.

this is all i've been able to think about for days. i can't stop thinking about how we were all forced to watch grooming behavior live on tv for years. dan schneider had cameos in amanda show sketches and amanda was seen being too comfy with him behind the scenes (which is very reminiscent of the way my sister's body language was with my stepdad so it causes concern). dan beamed his gross sense of humor into our eyeballs for 20 years and none of us knew what he was normalizing. i can't help but think that i wasn't allowed to watch shows like buffy when i was a kid but my pedophile stepfather would sit down with us and watch shows like zoey 101 like it wasn't a problem. i can't help but wonder if this was part of the grooming and normalization. i can't help but wonder if slime time - a staple of my childhood - was super weird.

now i can't help but feel grateful that nickelodeon never came to my school.

i hope all the victims find peace, including ones who will never feel comfortable sharing. i can't help but think that brian peck must have had other victims before drake because i've studied this behavior and it tends to escalate over time. i hope they find peace too.

[complaints-from-poland]

Can we please talk about the portrayal of domestic abuse in children's media?

Because it's fucked up.

Trigger Warning / Content Notion: I'm talking about my experience and trauma as a child abuse survivor, nothing graphic or drastic, no details about the abuse, but it is a bit bleak and might be upsetting, especially for people who have experienced abuse themselves and/or are very sensitive to other people's pain. There's some cursing.

A great example of this is Harry Potter (of course the TERF princess Jowling Kowling Rowling isn't the only one guilty of it, it's all over the place - which makes it even worse, because we're bombarded by this bullshit from everywhere, with almost no alternative).

The main character is abused by the family he's living with, socially isolated, bullied at school, has no support system, and the abuse is the only thing he knows. And then he goes to magical school, and BAM, he's making friends, he's assertive, confident, brave, sets boundaries, goes on to save the fucking world (yeah the surface-level understanding of oppression and bigotry in HP is a topic for another time).

I'll admit, relating to Harry when I was a kid did help me survive. But at the same time, it gave me very unrealistic expectations of what the trauma will do to me. I thought something is wrong with me, that I'm weak, because the abuse didn't make me stronger, it fucking destroyed me.

As you probably already know, and as I know now, that's what abuse does. It doesn't make you stronger, it doesn't build you up, it doesn't do anything good, it destroys you, sometimes forever. To grow as a person you need love, safety, support, good role models, space to learn and explore you interests.

I made myself strong. I'm cool, smart, interesting, kind, brave, caring, resilient and a good friend not because of the abuse, but despite it. I owe nothing to my abusive parents; every good thing I have in my life is there thanks to the people that helped me escape from them, protected me from them, made me feel safe and at ease, showed me love, compassion and understanding, gave me the space to be my hurt self, with all the good and bad, appreciated me, assured me that what I was put through was fucked up and nobody, especially a child, should ever be treated like this.

Yeah, I probably wouldn't be a very interesting action movie character, with my sleeping for days, crying, not leaving the house or showering for a week, not being able to make any friends, jumping at every sudden noise, not eating, nightmares, being barely conscious because I can't sleep and all the other fun stuff PTSD does to you. But maybe your hero doesn't have to go through abuse. Maybe losing your parents as a baby is tragic enough. Fuck, the Dursleys could even still try to isolate him from anything magical and oppose to Harry going to Hogwarts, not because of hatred, but because they would want to protect him from his parents' fate.

This narration is not just minimizing the impact, it's gloryfying abuse, trying to paint it as something with positive consequences. It doesn't have any. There's no "good damage". I could've been safe, happy and healthy for my whole life. Nothing good came out of my suffering. Maybe if I knew it, I would've asked for help earlier.

Children deserve to know the truth. Sometimes you need to simplify it a bit, but stories about heroes becoming good people because of their trauma are not simplification, they are lies, and they are further hurting people who are already hurt and vulnerable.

[ladymunson]

In My Dreams- Chapter Two. A Nightmare to Remember.

• Fic summary: Your parents have an issue with you dating the town “freak” Eddie Munson, so they force you apart but you and Eddie can’t stop thinking about each other. You’re invading each others dreams so maybe it’s not just a “silly crush” like your parents think.

• A/N: OMG! I can’t believe the response to part one, thank you sooooo much! You guys are amazing! I hope you like part two! This fic is inspired by songs by Dokken and Dream Theater.

Word count: 4237

Warnings: SMUT, horror elements, nightmares, supernatural experiences, angst, mentions of blood, Steve is the GOAT

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted to any other platform

Support content creators by reblogging

Read part one here

—

Knocking on your door disturbs you from your moping. You’ve been listening to music since you woke up from that nap, and the weirdness that followed. Waking up to that mess had been a shock, there was no one else in the house and you were certain that sex had happened. But that’s impossible right?

You open the door to see Max, Robin and Steve Harrington on your doorstep. ”Hey y/n, thought you might like some company.” Steve says with a grin. “We brought snackos!” He says in the way you would to entice a child, which earns him a punch in the arm from Max. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For being a dick” Max says as they all follow you to your bedroom. Your mom, who was now home from work, tries to talk to you all but you ignore her and slam the door in her face.

“Wow! What’d she do?” Robin says as she sits on your bed.

“Oh nothing,” you say and then shout, “JUST RUIN MY LIFE!!” Robin winces at the loudness and the venom in your voice. “I hate them!”

“Tell us how you really feel.” Steve says with a grin.

“Told you you’re a dick!” Max says as she puts her arm around you. Tears begin to brim in your eyes and you sink to the floor. The plush carpet saving your knees.

“I can’t do this!” You cry as a sob leaves your lips. Robin and Max join you on the floor while Steve stands very awkwardly against your dresser.

“I’m sorry y/n.” Steve says as he folds his arms across his chest. “Guess I’m not very good with girls and their feelings.”

“Why don’t you go and get us all a soda hmm?” Robin says as you cry into her shoulder. Steve nods and leaves your room, closing the door gently behind him. ”Now… tell us what’s going on.”

You pull back from the girls, you look at them with wide eyes. “You’ll never believe me.”

“Try us.” Max says with a gentle smile.

You take a deep breath and begin. “Something weird is going on…”

—

Eddie tries to get back to sleep so he can find you where his dream ended but he can’t seem to drift off. After an hour of trying and failing he decides to get up and make himself some food. He pads to the kitchenette but only finds a couple tins of franks and beans and some eggs. He should’ve taken Red up on her offer but it’s better than nothing right?

He scrambles the eggs as the franks and beans heat up on the stove top, the whole time you’re on his mind. He just can’t stop thinking about you. ‘This is totally not normal, it can’t be!’ He thinks to himself. ‘No one thinks about another person like this… it’s weird!’

Once his food is ready he sits at the small table and eats in silence. Usually he would bring his boombox into the main area and play one of his mixtapes, but the thought makes him sad. Every one he owns has songs that remind him of you.

Fade to Black was playing when you had your first kiss, and it’s on every single one of his mixtapes.

Shot in the Dark was playing when he asked you to officially be his girlfriend.

Heaven and Hell was playing the first time you gave him the best blowjob of his entire life.

Faithfully was playing the first time you made love.

And the first time you told Eddie you loved him…? Home Sweet Home was playing, and that’s what you are to him. Home.

How was he ever supposed to get over you and move on when all his favourites had memories attached to you?

—

If Robin and Max thought you were insane they didn’t show it, they did give each other a look though. One that you recognised but couldn’t place. They both get ready to leave after chatting for a while, Steve however hung back. When he came back with the sodas, he looked angry. Actually he looked immensely pissed off but he didn’t say anything. Until now.

“I’ll meet you guys outside in a minute.” Steve says. Robin and Max each give you a hug before they leave and head outside. Steve shuts the door and looks at you, head tilted sideways, his hair flopping to the side and his hands on his hips.

“What?” You ask.

“You know I’ve never been president of the Eddie Munson fan club, but Eddie turned out to be a pretty decent guy so this is some bullshit!” Your eyes widen, then your head drops.

“So you don’t believe me?” You sigh and drop your shoulders, flopping down on your bed. “You’re right, I sound nuts!”

He rushes over and sits beside you. “No y/n that’s not what I mean, in this town anything is possible!” You sit up and give him a questioning look. “Your mom told me everything. I don’t think she realised what she said until it had already spilled out.” Your eyes widen in shock. “They made you break it off with Eddie because it makes them look bad?! What the actual fuck?!”

“Please don’t say anything, Eddie hates them enough as it is. Did she tell you they threatened to kick me out if I didn’t?” You ask, Steve’s face gets even redder than it was before.

“Okay now I’m super pissed!” He gets up from your bed and stalks to the door.

“Please don’t say anything Steve!” You beg.

“I can’t promise I won’t say anything at all, but I can promise that I won’t tell Eddie.” He looks back at you with a tiny smirk before leaving. Now you were in deep shit!

—

Eddie lays in bed, his mind going a mile a minute. He huffs in frustration, too many thoughts going around in his brain to be able to sleep. He grumbles to himself and rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He thinks about the words you used when you broke up with him, the ones he could understand. He chuckles slightly at the memory of your emotional gibberish. “I can’t be with you anymore…” what does that mean?

She said can’t, not I don’t want to. Eddie frowns at the choice of words. He’s not exactly sure what it means but he holds out hope that it means that you didn’t want to break up.

All of a sudden his eyelids begin to feel heavy and he sighs contentedly, now he can find you in his dreams.

—

At the same moment Eddie’s eyes begin to close, so do yours. Emotionally wiped out after the day you’ve had. You snuggle down under your covers and start to drift off, excited to see where your dreams take you tonight.

Unfortunately for both you and Eddie, you’re both so exhausted, and you both have completely dreamless rest.

—

You awaken when your alarm goes off at 7am, today is Saturday, a day you’ve been looking forward to all week. You’re staying at Nancy’s with Robin, and it’s just what you need. You’re not due to be there until 5pm but you feel the need for company today, so you shower and dress quickly. Planning on stopping off somewhere for a coffee and to get a dozen donuts to take with you. You always hate showing up empty handed.

You’re heading to the front door when your mom stops you. “You’re going out early. Somewhere important to be?” She asks with a suspicious look on her face.

“I’m going to Nancy’s, and I’m staying there tonight so don’t expect me back.” You say as you reach for the lock to open the door.

Your mom sighs. “Are you going to see him? Why can’t you find someone nice, who fits with who we are. Like your friend Steve.”

You roll your eyes. “Firstly no, I’m not going to see Eddie. He wouldn’t see me even if I went, I broke his heart because he doesn’t fit with your stupid fucking image. And secondly, Steve is my friend, I don’t see him that way and I don’t think he sees me that way. He’s still in love with Nancy. And after what you said to him last night, I doubt he will even want to come around here anymore!”

“I didn’t say anything rude to Steve!” Your mom gets defensive.

“You told him what you made me do. He said Eddie is a decent guy and didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Oh and I told him you threatened to make me homeless if I didn’t do it, so… yeah he won’t be coming here anymore!” You say as you walk out of the house.

Your mom calls after you. “He better not tell anyone, think of how that will make us look!”

—

Steve sits on the steps to Eddie’s trailer, waiting for Wayne to get back from his shift at the factory. He’s been there since 8am, not wanting to miss the opportunity to talk to Eddie’s uncle. He promised he wouldn’t tell Eddie, but he didn’t promise that he wouldn’t tell the other Munson.

Just as Steve’s ass starts going numb, Wayne’s truck pulls up outside the trailer. He gets out and looks all confused. “Harrington?”

“Mr Munson, might I have a word?” Steve wanted to do this properly, not make the situation worse.

“If you’re here on behalf of Miss y/l/n, I would prefer she come talk to me herself.” Wayne says.

“No sir, she doesn’t know I’m here.”

“You better come in then.”

“No, I’d rather not have Eddie overhear what I have to say. He’s too emotional right now.”

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at Steve. “Go on then.”

“Okay so last night Max, Robin and I went to see y/n, she’s really not doing good… anyway, I went to get sodas right? And y/n’s mom came to talk to me.” Wayne scoffs. “Yeah I know. So she tells me that she’s happy that y/n broke up with Eddie because now their image is repaired. I ask her what she means and she tells me, we made y/n break up with Eddie to save our family image or we would kick her out and leave her with nothing. She seemed so pleased with herself.”

Wayne’s fists ball in anger. “Image? All she cares about is image, what about her fucking daughters happiness?!”

“Right?!” Steve says. “Look yes y/n hurt Eddie but I think she hurt herself in the process too. Tell Eddie if you want but I didn’t want it to come straight from me. I promised I wouldn’t.”

Wayne pulls Steve into a bear hug, “thank you.” Steve momentarily freezes, not knowing how to react but then returns the embrace.

“She’s my best friend, and I hate seeing her so hurt.”

—

You pull into the driveway of the Wheelers house, you park and get out of the car. You walk up to the door and ring the bell, waiting patiently for someone to answer.

The door opens. “Y/N! We weren’t expecting you until this evening, is everything okay?” Karen Wheeler asks with concern.

“I just wanted to swing by with these.” You say as you present her with the box of donuts.

“Awww that’s sweet, come in, I’m just fixing breakfast.” You smile and step past her and to the kitchen, placing the box of donuts on the counter. “Would you like some pancakes, eggs and bacon?” Karen asks.

“Oh I don’t want to be any trouble.” You reply.

“Nonsense! We have plenty.” Karen says as she begins fixing you a plate.

Nancy comes into the kitchen, still in her powder blue pyjamas. “Oh y/n, is everything okay?” Nancy asks with embarrassment.

“Actually no, but we can talk later.” She nods and smiles at her mom and the pair of you sit at the kitchen island, tucking into your breakfast.

—

Eddie wakes up feeling a little more refreshed than that last few days, lack of dreams making him rest easier. Saturdays were usually the days you woke up with him, but he woke up alone. He feels like he’s going to wake up alone every day for the rest of his life. He sighs to himself, holding back the tears and goes for his morning shower.

Once done and dressed he makes his way into the kitchenette, Wayne is nursing a cold coffee and staring out the window. “Unc?”

Wayne jumps. “Son, I didn’t hear you. I bought groceries. Sort out some breakfast, I’m going to shower.” He stands, puts his coffee mug on the counter and goes to the bathroom.

“Okay that was weird.” Eddie says out loud to himself, shakes his head and makes a start on breakfast.

—

You and Nancy spend the day in town, shopping and chatting. You tell her about the dreams and aftermath, the situation with your parents and how sad you are about what you did to Eddie.

You head to Family Video after your shopping trip, to choose a couple of movies for your sleepover tonight. You’ll stay til closing to pick up Robin and then head to grab pizzas on your way home.

The rest of the day passes in a blur and you’re finally back at Nancys, with your pizzas and movies. Mrs Wheeler has turned the basement into a girls sleepover haven while you’ve been out so you don’t have to do anything except change into your pyjamas.

When you come out of the bathroom wearing red plaid pyjama pants and one of Eddie’s Dio shirts the two of them give you a look. “It smells like him.” You say with a sigh.

“You really love him don’t you?” Nancy asks.

“With every piece of me, I’m so stupid!” You reply, flopping on the couch defeated.

Nancy grabs your hand. “You’re not stupid, you did something you didn’t want to because you were threatened. It’s not your fault.” She says.

“Who threatened who now?” Robin says, her eyebrows furrowed and her head slightly tilted to the side.

You sigh in relief, Steve kept his promise. The way Robin is looking at you though, you know she deserves the details. So you lay it out for her.

—

Eddie had put off the band meeting scheduled for the day, he still couldn’t face people and the inevitable question of how is y/n? He didn’t think his heart could take it. So instead Eddie spent the day writing new songs. Most of which were sad songs about heartbreak and pining for someone who doesn’t love you back.

Wayne had avoided talking to him all day which made Eddie suspicious, Wayne knew something, something which he didn’t want Eddie to know. Was y/n seeing someone else? Was she in trouble? Was she… pregnant? Did someone make her break up with him? Or had she simply fallen out of love with him? Or worse, did she never really love him?

It was late by the time Eddie managed to get to bed, however, managed to drift off without much struggle.

—

The warm breeze brushes across your face, stirring you from your slumber. You sit up and look around, finding yourself in a field. Eddie’s van is parked behind you, and you see Eddie’s Reeboks sticking out of the open back doors. You jump up and over to the van, Eddie is laying asleep on the floor which is covered in blankets and pillows. He looks so peaceful and you want nothing more than to crawl in beside him. So you do.

Being careful and light so you don’t wake him, you manoeuvre yourself so you’re laying on the floor too. Scooting back so you’re flush against him. He sighs contentedly and his arms wrap around you instinctively, pressing lazy kisses to your back.

Eddie’s eyes open and he smiles. “I missed you baby.” Pulling you even closer.

“I’ll always find you!” You reply, twisting in his grasp to face him. You don’t waste any time and brush your lips against his. Eddie returns the kiss, his hands on either side of your face, yours are on his chest. Pulling on his Hellfire shirt, trying to get even closer, which isn’t possible.

Eddie breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead on yours. “I’m not alive when we’re apart.” You pull him back into a kiss, trying to show him that you feel the same because you can’t find the words to express it.

Eddie moves over you, rolling you onto your back. His curly hair falling around you, like a halo, your very own Angel. He kisses you again, more heated this time, moving along your jaw to your neck. Eddie’s lips and teeth attack your earlobe, making you let out a loud moan. You feel him instantly harden against your leg, even through those tight skinny jeans.

“I need to do something okay? No arguments, no disagreeing, I need you to trust me. Oh and don’t fight it.”

“I always trust you Eddie. With my life!” He grins and reaches for the button of your denim shorts, pulling them down and ripping away your underwear. You gasp and he smirks at you, then heads lower. Your breath hitches in your throat.

Eddie groans at the sight of your pussy, glistening with your slick. “All this for me Princess?” You nod. He licks his lips and lowers his head, placing delicate kisses on the insides of your thighs. You wiggle in anticipation, feeling Eddie’s breath on your waiting heat. He looks up at you with lust blown eyes and licks a stripe from your dripping hole to your aching clit. Your back arches in pleasure so Eddie does it again. “Mmmm you taste like raspberries and cream.” His fingers open you up and his lips wrap around your clit sucking firmly, making you keen, your fingers carding through Eddie’s hair.

It doesn’t take long for your climax to edge, and Eddie can tell, he can taste it. He moans against you and you feel the vibration flow through you. You can feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, and at your begged “please!” He slides two fingers inside you, curling them just right, hitting that spongy bit inside that makes you see stars. Five curls of his fingers is all it takes for you to reach your peak. Your thighs locking around Eddie’s head as it washes over you, the noises you’re making are obscene but you don’t care.

Eddie sits up as you struggle to get your breath back, he undoes his belt and pulls his jeans down. He doesn’t have time to wait, he needs to take you now.

—

Eddie gives his cock two quick strokes before he’s sliding it inside you, he sees your eyes roll back in your head. Once he’s fully sheathed in your wetness he pulls you up by the small of your back, so your arms wrap around his neck. Your lips meet and you roll your hips, making Eddie moan into your mouth. His hips thrust upwards and the tip of his cock hits your cervix, making you cry out.

Your bodies are mashed together, hips thrusting, rolling and clashing. Your lips meet in frenzied kisses, all teeth and tongues. Eddie struggles to hold back as he just wants to empty himself inside you but he tries as hard as he can. You hear him groan and feel his hips stutter so you squeeze your insides, tightening around him.

“Fuuuuckkk! Not gonna last if you keep doing that.!” Eddie moans out. You smirk and do it again, the sound Eddie makes is one you’ll remember for the rest of your life. A guttural groan that is the hottest sound you’ve ever heard, and his resolve breaks. He can’t hold back anymore and a second later he’s shooting rope after rope into your waiting heat, coating your insides and dripping out of you and down your thighs. “I fucking love you!” Eddie moans out breathlessly.

“I love you too baby.” You say as you pull him down beside you, his softening cock slips out of you making you wince. In a flash he’s cleaning you up with a cloth that appeared out of nowhere.

—

Moments later you’re both exiting Eddie’s van, and walking towards a carnival, hand in hand. This was shaping up to be the best day of your life, when Eddie let’s go of your hand.

“Just tying my lace sweets, I’ll catch up.” Eddie says and he kneels down to tie his shoe. You walk a few more paces toward the carnival when the sky darkens.

You look up and see the sky turn blood red, the lightning making it scarlet. You hear and almighty crash from behind you, you spin to see a giant metal cube has fallen directly on top of where Eddie was tying his shoe. You panic, thinking he’s been crushed and run towards it. Banging on the mirrored glass, screaming his name, tears falling down your face.

You hear banging coming from the other side, the cube must be hollow and Eddie is inside. You can only hope as you continue to bang on the glass, calling for him. You can’t hear his voice, but you can hear him banging in morse code. S.O.S

—

One second Eddie is tying his shoe and the next he’s trapped inside a glass box, y/n is on the other side. The sky behind her is red, just like the first dream he had. He can see her run towards the box and bang on the glass, she’s crying her eyes out but he can’t hear her. He waves at her, but she continues to cry and doesn’t wave back. He’s confused but then he thinks maybe it’s a two way mirror thing, like the police use. So he bangs on the glass.

She stops and relief washes over her face. She continues to yell and bang on the glass but he still can’t hear her. He thinks for a minute and then decides to send her a message, he bangs out morse code for S.O.S and she leans against the glass in silent sobs.

Eddie sees y/n jump and fear spread across her face, he begins to panic because he can’t hear what has scared her.

But then he sees it…

—

You hear a familiar blood curdling screech and freeze. You don’t want to look but can’t help but turn around, you see the figure from your first dream. Panic sets in and you don’t know what to do, there’s nowhere for you to go. The carnival has disappeared and you’re in the same field from your first nightmare.

The figure in the distance begins to move toward you with immense speed. And you run to the other side of the box, hoping it can’t see you. But you can hear it getting closer and closer.

You hear it breathing just around the corner of the box, you let out a silent prayer that everything will be okay.

But it isn’t.

—

Eddie watches in horror as the creature bounds toward her. He can see her as she comes face to face with it. He can see the fear in her eyes as it snarls at her.

Then it pounces, knocking her to the floor. It’s jaws lock into her neck and he sees the blood flow. He can’t do anything to help, all he can do is watch as it mauls her.

All he can do is watch as the love of his life slips away…

—

You wake up with a scream, startling Nancy awake who’s sharing the pull out couch with you. She has an inkling of what you’ve just dreamt so she wraps her arms around you. You shake and cry, but can’t speak to explain what just happened, but Nancy doesn’t press you for info. Neither does Robin who has fallen off the blow up mattress on the floor as she was scared awake.

Once you’ve calmed down some you explain what you dreamt.

—

Eddie yells out “y/n!” As he wakes with a start. Tears streaming down his face as Wayne runs into Eddie’s bedroom. He pulls Eddie into his arms and holds him, Eddie is shaking with absolute panic and fear. He can’t bring himself to say what his nightmare was about, fearing it would become real if he did.

All he wants at that moment, is to hold y/n in his arms and tell her she’s forgiven for everything. He just wants them back together.

End of part two

Taglist: @fuzzymelanie, @sweetpeapod, @eddiesprincess86, @eddiemunsonlives, @nycbaby21, @punxunited01-blog, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @credulouskhaleesi, @mandyjf, @sammararaven, @flameo, @peaches-and-plums-motherfucker, @stardustmunson

Sorry some of the tags wouldn’t work, I hope you find this.

If you would like to be added to my Taglist, please send a DM, ask or reply.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog!

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

A Beautiful Mind

Title: A Beautiful Mind

Summary: You had begged Kol not to put you to sleep. You had told him of the sights that haunted your nightmares - red lights and black water. He never could have guessed that the safest place for you would turn out to be the most dangerous. Three Doors Down - Part Three || Kol x Disabled!reader || Here are parts one and two || Here lies my Masterlist

Word Count: 10,000

Warnings: Fear of drowning, talk about death, violence, blood. Oh, also a weird as all frick dream sequence - it's not supposed to make sense, just keep that in mind.

A/N: Fun Fact, this fic originally started as a self-insert because I actually live with hearing loss and speech aphasia. So to everyone who has been supportive of this mini-series, I just wanted to say thank you. Enjoy this finale, I hope it lives up to expectations.

Checking his watch for what was surely the millionth time that day, Kol tore his hands through his hair, cursing under his breath as he leaned his head back against the wall of his broom-closet prison. Waiting was torture; each minute felt like an eternity and the space wasn't even big enough for him to stretch his legs out all the way. He was so hungry. Bloody hell! He was starving! There were so many warm bodies in the rooms surrounding him. Oh, what he wouldn't give to sink his teeth into just one - any of them would do, yet there was a certain one he couldn't seem to take his mind off of. Try as he might, she was all Kol could think about. Y/N. Her dry wit, her dazzling smile, her quiet strength, her captivating eyes, her perfect lips, her soft skin… her blood. 

Warm and thick and-

No! 

Stop. Don't go there.

Kol groaned, drawing his knees up to his chest in a vain effort to relieve just a fraction of the excruciating pain in his stomach. He couldn't stop thinking about her, no matter what he tried. Where was Y/N by now? Probably in Mystic Falls already. The thought pained him - she shouldn't be anywhere near that wretched town. She should have been with him. 

He didn't care if it made him weak, Kol wanted her back. He just wanted her back, safe and sound. He just wanted to have her back so he could make her laugh and smile in that adorable way that made him want to smile too. He wanted to hold her, and kiss her, and feel her, and… and… He wanted to listen to her heart race and he wanted to bury his teeth into her tender flesh. She'd been so good the first time, she hadn't fought him and she'd tasted divine. The memory made his mouth water. Her blood - hot and thick and sweet like candy. He'd stopped too soon, far too soon. He should have had more when he had the chance. Bloody hell, he could still taste her on his tongue. Sweet. So sweet. Sweet like candy…

NO! 

STOP IT! 

STOP!

NOT HER!

He didn't want that, he didn't want to think about her that way. Kol didn't want to hurt her! Because that girl was a lot like him - she had lost parts of herself, things she could never get back. Just like him. Except Kol hadn't had anyone to take comfort in. So for Y/N, he wanted to be the person he'd never had - his way of flipping off the cosmos, perhaps. 

And why shouldn't he? After all that had been stolen from him, after all the injustices and pointless suffering, the universe owed him this much. Cliche as it sounded, Y/N was a light in the dark, radiating joy and enthusiasm like a fire gives off heat. She didn't care about his looks or his charm. He didn't have to do anything to be of worth - just being himself was enough for her. The attention she gave him was free of ulterior motives, and like a starved child, he wanted it all to himself. He didn't mean to be possessive and he would never do anything to harm or disrespect that girl, or keep her from happiness. He adored her! But that was the problem. Kol just didn't know how to let go. One thousand years had been so long, and he'd been so alone. He deserved someone like Y/N. Yet the universe in its infinite cruelty still sought to take her away.

It wasn't fair!

That was why he'd bitten her. 

He hadn't wanted to hurt her, but the alternative was worse. If he hadn't done something drastic, she would have gone back to her life in Denver. The thought of Y/N living her life without him? The chance she might one day fall in love with someone else? He couldn't stand it. He hadn't even known her that long - hardly a week but every day of that week, she had knocked on his door and greeted him with a smile and a hug to say good morning. How could he give that up?

Kol had fed on her because he wanted to keep her. He thought about her because he was worried and he missed her. But the monster under his skin couldn't tell the difference, and it didn't really care to. It just kept torturing him with memories of her blood on his tongue. 

Kol checked his watch and cursed.

All that for eight bloody minutes.

He had to give it to the Gilbert siblings, they were nothing if not persistent and, unfortunately, they weren't entirely brainless. According to the elder Salvatore's gloating, they had gotten their Bennet witch to temporarily deactivate his daylight ring - a feat he would have been impressed by had he not already spent nine and a half hours trapped in a closet because of it. (For all that witch lacked in skill and knowledge, she made up for it in raw power.) Eight floors worth of windowed hallways stood between him and the building's exit. He could get out if he tried and he would survive the journey, but it would be excruciating and ultimately pointless as his car did not have specially treated windows and attempting to drive whilst he burned alive wasn't exactly feasible.

Now, Kol was well aware that despite appearances, Y/N was far from helpless - she'd proven that much. However, she wouldn't be able to hold her own against Niklaus. By taking their cousin to Mystic Falls, the Gilberts might as well simply hand-deliver Y/N right into Klaus' hands. If Kol's brother realized how he could use that girl… Kol didn't even want to imagine what the hybrid would do.

Klaus would hurt her.

Kol didn't want to see Y/N hurt.

Bloody hell, he felt awful. He'd promised to protect her and he'd failed spectacularly. Y/N was probably terrified. Kol wished he could help her. He wished he could just see her, but he couldn't!

Unless he could…

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, resting his head against the wall. Calming his mind was difficult, it always had been for him; thoughts tended to race through his mind like gale-force winds and that was on a good day. Now his psyche was plagued with images he'd rather not see, predictions of a future he could only pray he had the power to stop - that frail, bubbly girl sprawled on the ground, drained of the life she gave so freely, and the ground around her stained red, red, red. The worst part was knowing he might be the one to make her that way. He was so hungry.

Kol dragged his hands through his hair and let loose a string of curses. He needed to find her, but to do so required him to focus on the present and at the moment he could do anything but. Perhaps this was how Y/N often felt, reaching for something she knew she possessed, yet always coming up short. That was when she'd start doing all those adorable nervous ticks he loved so much. Kol pictured her - the way she'd snap her fingers and bounce on her toes, biting her lip just right and every time she did so it made him want to kiss her senseless. That thought made him smile and he caught hold of it. Pushing away the fear and hunger, he leaned his head back and reached out, letting that radiant vision guide him to the girl he'd come to adore.

"Alright, darling," He muttered. "Where are you?"

Y/N was dreaming. Her magnificent light was easy to distinguish; the way her cognizance flickered and danced, out of sync with the other mortal minds populating the world, was beautiful. It was something he'd never seen before, yet more familiar to him somehow than he'd thought possible. Kol focused on that light, let it envelop him in an embrace that felt as warm and genuine as the girl it came from, and then he was falling backward into a dream that wasn't his. 

He saw black at first and started walking, his hand soon meeting a wall which he used to guide himself down what he quickly discovered to be a hallway of some kind. The gentle notes of piano chords could be heard playing from somewhere ahead of him and he moved along the hall towards the sound. A dim light flickered to life over his head, barely illuminating the few feet in front of him - the rest of the hall remained black as pitch. Kol glanced up to watch as the light wavered and changed, the dull glow began to oscillate between colors. 

Red to blue. 

Then white.

To red.

To blue.

To red.

To blue.

Then white.

Then red.

The colors continued to shift and Kol frowned. He remembered Y/N had said something about lights as he'd compelled her to sleep. She'd begged him not to, mumbling some gibberish about red lights and black water. What had she meant by that? What made it important enough to mention in her last moments of wakefulness? Kol didn't know, and he hated not knowing. 

Although, now that there was some light to be had, Kol noticed that there were doorways lining each side of the corridor - a mental maze of sorts - except this one was different than any he'd traversed before. In Y/N's mind, the doors did not stay put. He watched as these gateways to her memories faded in and out of existence, seemingly at random.

He grimaced. Whatever happened next was bound to be interesting.

"Y/N!" He raised his voice and shouted down the corridor. "YN, it's me - it's Kol! Can you hear me?" 

There was no response - just more piano notes sounding from the dark expanse ahead of him. It seemed forward was the only stable direction he could go, so he started moving and the light moved with him, maintaining its position over his head. 

After what seemed like hours of walking, Kol arrived at the hallway's end. A simple dark green door, the same as the one she'd resided behind in Denver - three doors down from his - stood in front of him. The chords of a piano drifted from beyond it, louder and stronger now that he was so close. 

Kol paused. Should he knock? Before he could decide, he was stopped by the sound of an unfamiliar voice intertwining with the music emanating from behind the door. 

"Y/N, dinner's ready!"

The warmth was what startled him. The warmth and the love that he could feel radiating from the memory just beyond that door was baffling. It was something entirely mundane - as ordinary and as common as grass - but the sound made Kol smile because it was something he'd never really had. 

"Y/N/N? You gonna come down? It's time to eat, sweetheart!"

That voice could only belong to a mother - one who loved her child with all her heart and soul - and just for a moment, Kol let himself bask in the sound.

He moved to touch the door's handle and a blinding light erupted in front of him, engulfing his senses in white. The next moment, Kol stumbled forward into what must have been a teenage Y/N's bedroom.

The setup was nothing extraordinary. There was a bed, a dresser, a nightstand - just the basics. The only feature truly of note was the antique piano and the girl sitting in front of it. Once again, her beauty stunned him. Those perfectly sweet, kissable lips, that small but tempting figure, and those wide, vulnerable eyes - so open and genuine - that made him want to hold her tight and never let go. Especially now, when those eyes were filled with sorrow and tears. 

Her fingers expertly stroked the piano's old yet well-kept keys, turning out a blissful, dream-like melody, though her face displayed an altogether different set of emotions. Kol could read the desperate frustration in her clenched and grinding teeth and the dreadful sorrow in the line of her brow and the glistening in her eyes.

"Y/N? Are you alright up there?" 

The piano music stopped and Y/N began to cry. The sight tugged at Kol's heart - to see someone he knew was so much stronger than she looked break down in tears was heart wrenching. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how. Emotions were messy things and he'd never been very good at handling his own, let alone anyone else's, but for Y/N he was willing to try. He moved with a certain degree of caution over to the piano and sat down on the bench beside her. The girl's tears were quiet little things - not the kind she would want to share much about but he could try anyway. He tapped his fingers against his knees, unsure of what to say.

"Why are you crying?" He asked gently, hoping his mere presence wouldn't frighten her. The girl straightened and wiped her tears but didn't turn to him.

"Had a… had-had a, um… a bad day." She shrugged. Her voice held little emotion. "Lots of yesterday-ays ago. O-okay now… all g-one."

Reliving an old memory wasn't uncommon, he supposed. Although, most people he'd dream walked with weren't aware they were dreaming until they woke up. Perhaps lucid dreams were another side effect of Y/N's strange mind. 

"I see." He nodded. "Hello, Y/N."

She smiled slightly and hummed in return. She didn't seem to be in the talking mood and that only made this harder. Kol tentatively touched her hand - he just wanted her to look at him but she didn't. She just tugged on his hand and placed it on her thigh so she could play with his rings, slipping them off to examine each one. It was almost painful to watch her, not knowing what she was thinking and she wouldn't talk to him - for the love of Thor - she wouldn't even look at him! He had a thousand things he wanted to say but none of them were helpful.

"So… what about now? Are you alright?" It was pathetic, but it was the best he could come up with.

She shook her head.

Kol's eyes darkened. "Did they hurt you?" He forced the words out through clenched teeth.

She shook her head again and he relaxed a little.

"Do you…" He hesitated. "- want to talk about it? Believe it or not, I actually have some experience with being rendered unconscious by members of my family." That actually got a reaction out of her.

Y/N's hands stilled and she turned her head slowly to stare at him. "What the hell?" She mouthed silently. Her expression was a perfect picture of baffled confusion and it took quite a bit of willpower on his part not to laugh. Though he couldn't refrain from cracking a smile. 

He shrugged. "I have weird siblings. What can I say?" He would tell her the disturbing truth later. For now, he made light of it. The corners of Y/N's lips twitched up, trying to smile while the rest of her expression turned even more bewildered. 

"That-that's not-" She stammered, at a loss for words. Kol placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

"This isn't a laughing matter, darling. My family takes the game of croquet very seriously!" Humor as medicine was an excellent strategy and his appeared to be working. Y/N snickered, rolling her eyes. "Ah, ah! What did I say about laughing?" He playfully chastised.

"Mm-mm -" She hummed, shaking her head as she fought to keep the grin off her face. "- I-I-I not… I'm not laugh-aughing."

"Really?" He smirked. "What's this then?" Kol poked her in the ribs and Y/N jumped, letting go of a little squeal. "What was that?" He poked her again in a slightly different spot and she twisted, grinning. "What was that, Y/N? Was that a giggle?"

Upon realizing his new plan, her eyes flew wide and she slapped his hand away. "Uh, uh! Nope!" She held up a finger as if as a warning.

"Are you sure?" He drawled, squeezing her thigh. She pushed that hand away too and shifted away from him.

"Uh, huh. Yeah." She nodded. Kol sighed, shrugging - letting her believe she'd won. 

"Nah, I don't believe you."

He poked at her again and Y/N giggled as she jumped back in an attempt to dodge his assault. She very nearly fell off the bench, but caught herself at the last second and stood, backing away from him with a smile on her face. Kol grinned and followed, shifting into a predatory stance. Y/N tried to out maneuver him but it wasn't long before he had her backing into a corner.

"Don-don't tickle!" She said, matching his steps. 

"Surrender and I won't have to," He replied, smirking down at her. He had her fully backed into the corner, trapping her there with an arm on either side of her head. 

"Mmm-mm!" She shook her head, keeping her lips sealed to stay her laughter.

Kol sighed, overdramatic. "Then you leave me no choice but to force you." Y/N snickered and ducked under his arm but he turned swiftly and caught her by the waist, picking her up as if she weighed little more than a feather. In a blink, he'd tossed her onto the bed and climbed over her, attacking her sides without mercy. Y/N squealed with laughter as he found her sweet-spot, she giggled and squirmed but couldn't escape. The sound of her laughter was the most joyful thing Kol had ever heard. "Being adorable won't save you, darling. You have to say it!" He declared.

"I-I sur-sur- ACK! No! No, wait! I sur-ur-en… surred-der!" She cried.

Kol grinned and moved off her, making himself comfortable on the bed as he watched her catch her breath.

"Uh, F- uh… F- you," She grumbled.

"Please," He hummed, grinning cheekily. The girl rolled her eyes and smacked his chest. He laughed, catching her hand before she could pull it back and tangling their fingers together.

"In- in your d-dreaming," She chuckled.

"Yours, actually," He pointed out.

Y/N sent him a look. "No."

"I'm just saying-"

"Kol…"

"Why not? It'll pass the time! I've still got another six hours till the sun goes down and I can get out of this closet, and who knows how long it will be until you wake up," He reasoned. Y/N just snorted, shaking her head. "You really should be more open to new experiences, darling. Didn't your parents ever teach you that?" 

He turned to watch her with a proud grin, his obnoxious attitude having won a full-on laugh from the girl. She closed her eyes and shifted closer. Her cheeks were tinged with pink and it was then that he remembered just how hungry he was. It wasn't his fault. Her flushed cheeks just looked so appetizing, even in a dream, and her heartbeat pounded deliciously in his ears. His smile faded and his eyes drifted to the artery pulsing in her neck.

"Ko-l?" 

"Hmm?" He forced himself to tear his eyes away - to look at her. 

Y/N was watching him with caution, one brow raised. "You okay-ay?" She asked. She was an observant girl. He really needed to learn how to keep his hunger in check. Before now, he'd never had a reason to.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He replied, forcing a smile. 

She saw right through him, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Hungry?" 

Kol nodded, unable to meet her eyes. He wasn't ashamed of what he was - not anymore. He was ashamed that he allowed her blood to tempt him. He was 1,000 years old, he should have been better than this. "I'm sorry. It's just been a while since I… Well, since I had anything to eat, and let's just say I've never been the best at curbing my appetite," He admitted. She deserved the truth. His truth wasn't pretty.

Y/N blinked. "O-oh…" She cleared her throat and shifted her gaze to the ceiling.

And now he'd freaked her out, good on him.

"B-but this is a dream," He quickly added, trying to reassure Y/N somewhat. "I can't hurt you in here, not really. You're safe."

The girl nodded slowly but her lips remained pressed together and her eyes stayed fixed overhead. 

He sat up a little, looking over her with concern. "Darling?" He tried. She turned her head, refusing to look at him. A flash of something painful ripped through his heart and he touched her arm. "Wait, Y/N/N. Please don't do that. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise you're safe, I promise I won't do anything… I-I'm not a monster. I-I promise."

She turned back, looking up at him with those stunning E/C eyes. "Ca-an you?" She whispered. 

"Can I… what?"

"Pr-prom-omise that," She said. "Keep it?" 

He wanted to answer yes, immediately and without a doubt, but the truth was he didn't really know. All Kol knew was that he needed her in his life and that he'd be willing to do almost anything to keep her in it. This sensation he felt when he looked at her wasn't something he knew how to deal with - it felt a little bit like the hunger he was so familiar with, but it wasn't painful. She looked so beautiful from this angle, with her hair all spread out around her head, like a haloed angel. He couldn't help but think back to two nights before - the life in her eyes, how she had felt beneath him, so soft and warm. He craved her presence in every moment and he knew that it was selfish, selfish, selfish. Kol had never tried to control himself before and it was a lot harder than he'd thought anything could be. It was selfish of him to put her in that sort of danger, but he just couldn't help it. He needed her. So he would try his best to keep her safe, especially from himself.

"Anything for you," He murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He couldn't resist leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. He loved the way she smiled. 

Her eyes left his and she reached up to play with his necklace - nothing special, just a stone with a few sigils carved into it attached to a black cord. He'd made the thing when he was human… so maybe it was a little special. 

"Does it… being, uh… being… being here? No, not-not that one… Um… being, um…" She snapped her fingers. Kol had no idea what she was trying to say so he stayed silent, watching her bite her lip and wishing she would let him do that for her. "Does… Does being, uh… close! Yeah, close! Does being close… close t-to me  w-when, uh, when you're hun-hungry… does it hur-rt?"

The girl had been kidnapped twice in thirty six hours and she was still worried about him. What an angel. He smiled softly, stroking her cheek.

"A little bit," Kol admitted. "But you're worth it, and I'll be okay." He laid back down - looking down on her like that was just too tempting. "What about you?" He wondered, changing the subject. "You have been handling all this remarkably well."

The girl nodded, shrugging. "S-scared and lot-lots of wor-ords," She said. "But okay."

He raised a brow. "You mean questions?"

"Uh, huh. Yeah."

"Well, go ahead and ask, darling. We've got plenty of time." He grinned.

"Quest-estion one-" She started. "What the hell?"

Kol barked a laugh. "Understandable. Would you like to hear what the hell from the beginning or just the reader's digest?"

"A-all the hell," She deadpanned.

"Are you sure? That's quite the long story, love," He warned, grimacing slightly.

Y/N raised a brow. "How, uh… how-how many y-years?"

"How old am I?" He clarified. She nodded. "I'm nearly one thousand years old." Her eyes flew wide. "Although, physically I'm eighteen," He added quickly.

"Huh…" That was all she had to say.

"That doesn't upset you, does it?" He asked hopefully, taking her hand in his and stroking his thumb over the back of it to calm her.

She swallowed thickly and blinked, shaking her head. "I'm-I'm good."

"Still want to hear the whole story?"

She nodded. "Lis-listen-ening."

Kol sighed. "Better get comfy then, this'll take awhile."

The girl snickered and sat up, reaching over him to grab something - a stuffed Y/F/A plush - before settling with her head resting on his chest. She never ceased to surprise him.

Kol couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Hesitantly, he slipped his arm around her back. "Is this alright?" 

She huffed a laugh and grabbed his other hand, placing it on her waist. Well, if she was okay with it… He tugged her closer and shifted her body so she was practically on top of him. She was warm. He missed being warm.

"Get-get on with, uh, with it," She joked, smiling.

"Alright, alright! Someone's pushy," He grumbled playfully. "I will warn you though, the Chronicles of Baby-Kol are, uh… well, they're a bit of a tear-jerker, so be ready."

"Okay."

Kol took a deep breath, and then he told her everything.

***

Alright, so 'what the hell' from beginning to end turned out to be a lot more than you had thought, but you listened to every word and tried your best to understand. First, he decided to tell you about the curse on his brother. He told you of your cousin Elena's magical blood which was needed to break that curse. Kol made it rather clear that he would not be involved in all the drama if not for the threat on his life. He also made sure to tell you about Stefan and Damon Salvatore - two vampire brothers competing for Elena's favor - as the latter of whom had aided in your abduction.

"I'll kill them both if you want me to, darling. Just say the word and they're dead," He offered, only half joking which was frightening though you'd never admit it.

You shook your head. "No. No dead-ed-ing," You said. "Who can I tri-ick? Which-which one?"

Kol groaned. "Y/N, love, I say this because I care about you… But, for the love of Odin, please don't do anything stupid?" You opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to it. "They are ten times stronger and faster than you. Don't provoke them."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Trick them," You insisted. "Tr-trick! Use it, um, use pity!"

"I thought you said you hate it when people pity you?" Kol said, raising a brow. 

You shrugged. "Gets things."

Kol grinned. "You, darling, are a little two faced devil and I love it." He laughed and pressed a kiss to your hair. "The younger of the two - the one who looks like he's the main character - he'll be the easiest to fool."

You nodded and bit your lip. All this information was great, but not what you truly wanted to know. So you asked the question that had been weighing on your mind since Kol had buried his fangs in your neck. You tapped his chest gently. "How?" You whispered. "How did this, um… br-ring? No, no…"

Kol sighed heavily. "You want to know how I became this, don't you?" You nodded. "I'd hoped you'd give up on that."

"Have to," You said, somewhat apologetic. "Have to know." 

You had to know his past - his reasons. You needed to know why you were here and why he was here with you. You were important to him, even though you weren't sure why, but you could tell that he was trying very hard not to scare you off. Why was he so determined? What did you mean to him?

"I know you do." He cradled you closer and sighed again.

You were good at reading people, you always had been because you had needed to be. So you knew that Kol wasn't being entirely honest with you - he was holding something back. He was lying. Kol was manipulating you to keep you around… and you decided, for the time being, to let him. You knew it was the only way to figure out the truth. People told you more when they didn't think they were telling you anything, and Kol thought he had you in the palm of his hand. It wasn't intentional or malicious, but that was the truth and you needed to figure out the reason behind it.

So you kept your head on his chest, and as he began to speak, you listened. 

"I was born of two worlds. The world of men from my father, and from my mother, the world of magic. My father's people were what yours now call the Vikings, but I, like my mother, was a witch."

Your eyes remained closed as you took note of his heartbeat, his breathing, and the vibrations of his voice. You kept track of each as he spoke, noting every change - every increase in rhythm, every struggle for breath, every fluctuation in tamber. More importantly, however, you paid attention to his hands. 

As he talked, Kol's hands began hesitantly roaming your body. He was gentle with you, and his touches were nothing short of loving. Even though you weren't entirely sure whether or not you were comfortable with being felt up, you chose not to reprimand him for it. It was pretty clear that Kol had been touch starved for most of his life, so he didn't realize everything he was telling you. Trying to figure out his past was too difficult with only the pieces he gave you verbally - he was trying to keep things from you, so you had to use every advantage. Every touch was a clue, a piece of the puzzle and you were rather good at puzzles. 

For the most part, Kol's right hand stayed in the vicinity of your head, neck and shoulders. He took to twisting and tangling your hair around the fingers of his right hand as he told you about his childhood. His early days of mayhem and magic were clearly some of his favorite memories, but you weren't sure how they related to you. Oddly enough, it was his left hand that told you more as he was right hand dominant and thus paid less attention to his other hand.

"Don't laugh, but we had werewolves for neighbors. Everything would have been fine if Niklaus hadn't taken Henrick out to watch them turn."

Kol trailed his hand from your waist over your hip and then down to your thigh. 

"When they came back, Henrick wasn't alive anymore."

His hands stilled and his voice turned distant. He wasn't over the death of his younger brother.

"My parents were devastated. So they elected to do the unthinkable. My mother cast a spell to make us immortal and bound it within us using wine laced with blood."

You found it strange that his voice was so apathetic and devoid of emotion. It was hard to tell whether he was angry or hurting just from his tone because it didn't change much, he kept his voice carefully controlled.

"I didn't realize what my mother had done to us until it was too late," He said. Kol slipped his hand beneath your shirt and you tried not to flinch, just let him caress the skin of your waist. "And I-I tried to run, I tried to warn them - I promise I did - but I-I just wasn't fast enough." He shifted uncomfortably and his right arm tugged you closer to him. "My father caught me. I thought I could outrun him. I ran as fast as I could. 'Kept trying to go faster. But I couldn't and-and then I…" He stopped and you gently pulled yourself away from him, opening your eyes.

You weren't lying on your bed anymore, the ground was dirt and the walls of your room were no longer standing. Instead you were surrounded by shadows and trees. You looked down at Kol and his eyes were far away, his expression drawn tight with fear. He was terrified.

"Wh-what seen n-next?" You asked quietly, hesitantly. You wanted to ask what had happened, but it seemed your brain was no more cooperative than usual. You weren't entirely sure you wanted to know.

Kol shook his head, eyes unfocused. "I-I didn't even know he was there until I felt it…" He whispered. He sounded so young. So scared. "I couldn't hear him behind me. I-I didn't know! If I had, I would have done something, but I didn't, and then… Then he…" The boy trailed off.

"K-ol?"

He closed his eyes and laughed. The sound came from deep in his chest and it wasn't happy at all. When he opened his eyes they were black as pitch. He looked right at you, his right hand moving to cup your cheek. He watched you for a moment, a faint smile gracing his face. Then he leaned up and captured your lips with his and you let him. His kiss was harsh and rough and needy. Kol slid his tongue over your bottom lip, asking you for permission. You denied him because he simply wasn't thinking straight, something was wrong. Kol pulled away, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against yours. 

"Please, Y/N?" He whispered pleadingly. "I-I need you." He tugged on your shirt. "I need you right now."

"N-no." You shook your head. "I-I can't… You're n-not o-okay… you're not-."

"Not good enough? Is that what you mean?" His voice sounded so pained. "Or is it because I'm not human?"

"No! No, no… Kol I-" You sighed. "Not that. Like you, um, I-I like you… but-but I…" 

"What's so wrong with me?" His lips ghosted over yours as he shook his head. "Why am I more broken than you?"

"Not, Kol! You-you're not!" You wanted to tell him that he was scaring you. You wanted to ask him why he was behaving this way, but you couldn't get the words to come out. "You're sca-ring me."

"Good," Kol said, petting your side. His eyes weren't black, you realized. They were blood red. "You should be scared of me." 

Then his lips were on yours, kissing you so ferociously that you knew he had no intention of stopping. He squeezed your waist and you let out a gasp of pain as his fingers dug into your flesh. But he didn't care. It was like he couldn't even hear you. He sat up with you on his lap but that wasn't enough for him. Suddenly, you were the one one the ground and Kol was hovering over you. There was something wild and desperate in those blood red eyes. Something mad.

"You want to know what happened next, Y/N?" He spoke, his voice like matted silk. "Just look around. This is the spot where it happened - a recreation of it anyway because I'll never forget." He glanced around, admiring the place. Why was his voice so emotionless?! Then his eyes snapped back to you. They were cold. His voice was soft. 

"He murdered us, Y/N," Kol said, stroking your cheek in a way that would have been loving had it not been so frigid. Even when he'd been standing with his arms around you in a crushing grip, greedily draining mouthful after mouthful of your blood, you had never been truly scared of Kol. But now, laying beneath him, completely at his mercy - now you were terrified. "He murdered us, and we all died. Finn slit his wrists because mother told him to. Elijah tried to stop our father from beating Niklaus to death, but he failed and they bled out together. Rebekah died in her sleep, her throat slit by our father's hunting knife. In some twisted way I think he was proud of me. See, I died on my feet. Alone. Here in these woods. My father drove his sword through my heart." Beneath your shirt, Kol moved his hand. He rested it over your heart, tapping lightly. "Right here… and it hurt." He drew his finger in a circle, just grazing your skin. Kol's hands were as cold as death. You knew because you remembered what death had felt like. You tried not to move.

"He killed me!" The boy choked. "He killed me, Y/N! I'm dead!" His voice quieted. He blinked. "Yes, I'm quite dead…" 

Both of you were dead. 

The cold of his hands sank into your bones and took you away. It was so cold. You shivered. Kol grinned and his fangs slid out, ready to tear into your throat. 

You hardly noticed when someone threw him off you.

A familiar voice cried your name.

"Y/N, RUN!"

But you didn't.

You were already drowning.

You were all alone and all you could see was black water and red lights. You were sinking, deeper and deeper beneath the surface. Water filled your lungs and you couldn't breathe! The black water froze your skin and burned your lungs as you desperately tried to claw your way to the surface. The red lights only drew further away from you. All you could do was sink lower, and lower. You couldn't breathe.

You closed your eyes and you were-

Back in your room?

You were back where you had begun. Standing in your room. Across from you stood Kol. His eyes were back to normal - that sweet as chocolate brown - but they were fixed on his feet and he played with his fingers nervously.

"I'm sorry about that," He said quietly. "I-I didn't realize your mind would be so excitable - so reactive to traumatic memories…" 

All the fear crashed in on you then. You screamed, backing away from the boy you'd thought you could trust. "W-hy?! Why did-did you do that to m-me?!" You didn't understand anything that was happening. 

Kol lifted his hands, trying to calm you. "No, no! Y/N/N, that wasn't me!" He claimed. "I promise that wasn't me!"

"Wh-what?!" Nothing made sense and you could still feel the water's chill. You didn't want to die again. You didn't want to drown.

"Darling, listen to me." Kol's voice drew your attention. "Your mind is playing tricks on you - on both of us. It's reacting to our fears and manifesting our nightmares."

You raised a brow, still trying to process what you had just experienced. "Wh-what's ha-happen-ening? I-I don't get! I feel cracking!" You felt shaken, out of control. It was as if there was something else moving in your mind, another force entirely. It was roiling and frothing and angry. 

The water. 

You were going to drown. You were going to die.

"Y/N, I need you to calm down!" He ordered, gritting his teeth. "Your mind is highly encourageable; it's a bit like quicksand really, the more either of us struggles, the deeper we sink," He explained. 

"So how cl-imb out?!" You demanded. Something was pulling at you. You felt light headed. 

"I'm not sure," Kol said. "But I think my worst fear is out to get you, and if that's true, then yours is only minutes behind me. We'll be in more danger the longer we remain entangled like this." 

You froze, looking up at him curiously. "You-you… fear?" You wondered. "You're afr-a-aid?" 

"Yes." Kol nodded. "Yes, that's right, I'm afraid of things too. It's alright to be afraid, love."

"What-what, uh…" You shook your head, blinking. How could he be afraid? What did he have to fear?  "What, um, sca-scares you?"

"I think you've already met it." The boy bit his lip, playing with his fingers. 

Only then did you make the connection. "Bla-lack eyes?" Kol sighed.

"It's just that I-I've, um…" He trailed off, watching you with dark eyes that had never looked so soft. "I've got this real nasty habit of breaking things…" Kol's voice was barely a whisper and you could see the tears in his eyes. "...beautiful things, things that I love - things that make me happy. I bring to desolation everything that I touch. I've done it over and over, countless times, and I'm terrified that I'll do it again." 

He looked up, meeting your eyes and you understood. Kol's worst fear was hurting you in a way you wouldn't forgive - that's what that corrupted version of him had been trying to do. Something slammed against your bedroom door - a fist pounding on wood - and you flinched. Kol's nightmare was trying to get in.

"I've seen your fears too, Y/N," The boy continued. "I've seen the red lights you told me about - the lights of the bridge you saw overhead as the current pulled you under and then the lights of emergency vehicles on your way to the hospital. I saw them."

He'd seen them. 

You were going to drown. You were going to die.

The wall behind Kol transformed into a swirling wave, rushing to flood the room. You screamed, but the impact you were bracing for never came and you felt the boy's hands on your shoulders. You glanced up. The room was as it had been - no water. "Y/N, look at me! You need to calm your mind. If you don't, then once I leave you'll be lost to horror after horror. You need to calm your mind."

But you couldn't. All you could think of was his monster's cold hands, and cold water, and red lights.

"I can't!" You cried. "I-I-I-I can-n't! I can't!"

Kol wrapped his arms around you. He was warm and you clung to him. "Shhhhhh," He whispered. "It's alright, sweet-thing. I won't let you drown."

"C-old!" You choked out. "So cold!"

"I know," He said. "I know it's cold. But I'm right here and I promise you're going to be okay."

You shook your head. You would never be okay - you were far too broken to ever be okay. "Can't f-fix my-my-mysel-f…"

Kol just held you tighter. "You don't need to fix anything, Y/N. I love you just the way you are." He combed his fingers through your hair and pulled you into his lap, pressing against you lovingly. He took your face in his hands and kissed your lips slow and soft, relishing every second of it. Then he stooped low to whisper in your ear, cradling you in his warm gentle arms. "You have a beautiful mind, darling - a powerful, extraordinary, unparalleled mind that is capable of powerful, extraordinary, and unparalleled things. You are the master of its potential, and I promise that one day these nightmares that plague you will fade. There is nothing that you are not capable of overcoming and I think I'm going to enjoy watching you rise." He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and you hugged him tighter as that lightheaded feeling increased. Your vision flooded with white and Kol's arms disappeared.

When you came around, everything was ringing. Except this time, you were pretty sure that only half of the noise could be attributed to your tinnitus. The rest you blamed on the drugs. 

You groaned. What in the Sam hill had your cousins injected you with? And how on earth had they gotten their hands on hospital grade sedatives?! They don't just sell that sort of stuff at Wal-Mart! Your cousin's extracurricular activities were becoming more and more worrisome the longer you thought about them. 

However, there was a time and a place to worry about such things and neither of those were here and now. For the moment, you needed a plan. 

Step one: Achieve mobility. (This was going to be challenging as your entire body felt like one giant block of lead.)

Step two: Ascertain your whereabouts. (You didn't think your cousins would've taken you someplace dangerous, but then again, they had kidnapped you so there was no telling what they might decide to do next.)

Step three: Negotiate your freedom. (If their willingness to jump to extreme methods was anything to go by, then any attempt to convince your cousins that Kol had merely been trying to protect you might not go over too well. So perhaps it would just be best to convince them that you were free from his wacky mind control whatever-that's-called. )

Step Four: Expect negotiations to go sour. (Elena and Jeremy didn't seem very open-minded about whatever was happening here and words had never been your strength. Hope for the best, expect the worst, right?)

Step Five: Escape via any means necessary. (While peaceful methods would be the prefered option, family or not, use of violent force would also be tolerable. Kol had said that the vampire with the hero hair was the most likely to grossly underestimate you, so you figured he was your ticket.)

Step Six: Find Kol and run. (Kol wanted to keep you safe, that you were sure of. While it was true that he wasn't exactly stable, you were important to him and for now that seemed to be your best advantage. Elena and Jeremy had other priorities and common sense dictated that you side with the possibly ancient vampire over your teenage cousins.)

The surface you were sprawled out on was luxuriously soft - softer than a cloud -  thus your will to get moving was rather illusive. With more difficulty than you thought reasonable, you sat up, scrubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. You had to blink rapidly for a few moments so your eyes could adjust to the bright sunlight streaming into the room from the window on your right, but once you could see, you found yourself in an extravagant albeit entirely unfamiliar bedroom. You had visited your cousins before and this was not their house. Such knowledge was somewhat unnerving, but you kept yourself calm regardless.

Step one and two down. Time for three and four. 

First, however, you needed to find a weapon. Hope for the best, expect the worst, and you didn't actually expect negotiating your way out of this to work, but it was worth a shot. Managing to clamber to your feet without making any sort of noise was a bit of a challenge but it didn't take you too long. Kol had informed you of the enhanced senses vampires possessed; lucky for you, you had spent your whole life perfecting the art of going unnoticed. 

Shuffling forward, you carefully made your way over to the dresser that sat pushed against the far wall. Upon it, rested a large, bronze candlestick. You weren't sure why anyone in the twenty-first century would still have a candlestick in their room, but for the moment you simply thanked heaven for people with weird decoration preferences. Grinning, you swiped the candlestick from the dresser and weighed it in your hands. It was frickin' heavy. Your grin stretched wider.

Unfortunately, the candlestick was too long for you to successfully conceal it beneath your clothing. So, sliding back to the bed, you sat down and slipped the thing underneath your leg and then pulled the covers over yourself. You rubbed at your eyes and ruffled your hair a bit in an effort to look a tad bit more distraught, then you took a deep breath…

And screamed your ever loving lungs out.

If your cousins thought you were going to be a good little prisoner then they had another thing coming.

It wasn't long before some guy with dirty blond hair came rushing into the room, waving his hands in a placating gesture while he said a bunch of words you couldn't discern in an attempt to get you to stop screaming. Faking absolute terror wasn't too hard as you were actually rather unsettled by the situation as a whole, however, you did feel a little bad because the dude in front of you seemed pretty close to hysterics himself. You decided to take it easy on him and snap your mouth shut abruptly, staring at him with eyes as wide as quarters. He let out a nearly comical sigh of relief and took a step closer.

Naturally, you started screaming again.

The poor man jumped and scrambled back, putting his finger to his lips and again trying to calm you. He kept apologizing over and over but you figured that acting like a total wreck would benefit you most so you continued your mindless shrieking. His expression turned pleading and he clasped his hands together in earnest.

You took pity on him and shut up again, looking him over. You knew instantly that this must have been Stefan Salvatore. Kol had been absolutely right - the guy really did look like a main character of something.

He opened his mouth to talk. "I'm not going to hurt you," He said slowly. He over pronounced his words so you could read them off his lips. Then he pointed at the bedside table. "We charged those for you."

You blinked, watching him with distrustful eyes before sparing the briefest glance to where he was pointing. Resting in a charging port, were your hearing aids and you silently thanked every deity you knew of that they had survived through two kidnappings. You snatched them up and put them on, keeping your eyes on Stefan the whole time. 

When your hearing aids beeped to life, sound returned to your world and escape seemed that much more possible.

"Uh, hi." Stefan waved awkwardly. "Can you, um… can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah," You said, letting your voice shake.

"Good! Great! That's, uh, that's really… great…" He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, um, I'm Stefan and, uh… this is, uh, my-my house… and… I really hoped your cousins would be back by now." He kept talking really slowly and offered you a sheepish smile. Bless his soul, he was trying so hard. You almost felt bad for him.

"W-where is-is Jer-r-emy? El-en-en-na? Where gone?!" You demanded, hugging yourself for extra pity points. 

"I'm a friend of Elena's," Stefan said, trying to reassure you. "She asked me to watch out for you while she and Jeremy went to go put their stuff back at their place. They're really worried about you, uh… Y/N… It is Y/N, right?" He asked quickly. You nodded. 

"Don't, uh, don't under-s-stan-and!" You hiccuped.

"I know you're scared, but you're safe here. I promise," He said. You looked up at him with curious, vulnerable eyes. He continued, "Elena told me what happened. You're safe now. Kol is never gonna hurt you again." 

To hell with steps three and four; now was the perfect time to throw yourself a pity party.

You froze at the mention of Kol's name, letting your breaths turn shallow and your eyes open wide. You shook your head. "No," You whispered. "No, no, no! N-ot him! He-he was i-in my-my head! No! Ma-ake lea-ve. Can't… don't want to! Make me do things! Did-didn't want to!" Tearing your fingers through your hair and sobbing, you proceed to stutter out some incomprehensible gibberish about being scared out of your wits.

It seemed to do the trick.

Stefan's eyes flew wide and he did that thing with his hands again, looking as if he were trying to calm a spooked horse. "Hey, hey! Shhhhhh. Y/N, shhhhhh. It's okay! I'll call Elena, yeah? I'll-I'll call Elena and-and you can, uh, you can talk to her about all this. Alright? Does that sound good?"

You just nodded, pretending to cry. This was going to be much easier than you'd thought.

Stefan paced around the room, holding his phone to his ear. "Hey, Elena. Uh, your cousin is up and, uh, I-" He glanced back at you. "-I can't understand a word she's trying to say. You think you could get back here? Soon?" He paused, listening. "Well 'cause she's so… different! I don't know how to deal with this!" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You waited until his back was turned, tightening your grip on the candlestick still hidden under your leg. Soundlessly, you slipped out of the bed and crept up behind him, raising the candlestick high over your head. 

"Thanks," He said into the phone. He moved to hang up. This was your chance.

Without giving any sort of warning, you brought the heavy bronze down on Stefan's skull as hard as you could.

A sickening crack echoed through the air and he grunted, swaying for a moment before he collapsed to his knees. The phone slipped from his fingers but you caught it and hung up before it too could hit the floor. Stefan groaned and lifted his head, squinting up at you, his face a picture of confusion.

"How…" 

You just shrugged, brushing some hair from your face before Spartan kicking Stefan in the chest. The force of the impact sent him toppling over onto his back. Feeling no remorse whatsoever, you stepped on both his hands to keep him pinned. Blood from your first blow dripped down the candlestick, slickening the shaft. You adjusted your grip and raised the weapon over your head again. With a scream of effort, you bashed the candlestick over his head four more times, until you were satisfied that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

Pushing the hair from your face with a bloodied hand, you stood, patting Stefan on the knee. It was nothing personal - he had just made the same mistake as far too many others. You were damaged, it was true; where people went wrong was thinking that damaged meant the same thing as helpless. It didn't. 

Wiping Stefan's blood on your pants, you left the room. You were no stranger to blood - the sight of it had stopped making you queasy a long time ago. Moving down a dimly lit hallway decorated with wood and red carpet, you found your way to a stairwell which you took. At the end of another long and dim hallway, you spotted a window large enough to crawl through. You dashed towards it. Because attempting to find the front door in this maze of a house would take forever and you didn't have the time to waste. You forced the latch and threw the window open. 

The stupid thing hardly budged.

You groaned. Throwing your weight against it a few more times, you managed to shove it open a little more - just enough for you to fit through. You made sure to chuck the candlestick out first because there was no way you were leaving that thing behind, then you steeled your nerves and dove through. You went head first, wriggling your way out while simultaneously tossing away any shred of dignity you'd ever possessed. All that time spent immobile in various hospital beds had finally paid off! For the first time in your life, you were actually grateful to be so extraordinarily frail. 

After tumbling to the ground in a heap that lacked any grace whatsoever, you took a brief moment to curse your cousins for kidnapping you. Once that was taken care of, you stood, brushed yourself off, and grabbed your candlestick out of the dirt. It was pretty gross, seeing as all the leaves and moss and dirt had gotten stuck to the congealed blood glossing the thing, but you simply could not find the will to care. You had only ever visited your cousins once and thus had absolutely no clue where anything in their little town was. However, as long as you weren't with Elena, anywhere would be better than that creepy old house. So, you took a deep breath and hightailed it into the trees.

You ran as far and as fast as your short, under-used legs would carry you and you were pretty sure you tripped over every root there was to be had along the way. You only paused when you heard the snap of a branch. It was a little too close for comfort and you were almost positive there were no deer nearby. Flinching as you turned up the volume on your hearing aids, you listened for other sounds of a pursuer. 

You turned to face her as she stepped out from behind a tree on your left, swiftly and casually tucking the candlestick out of her view. The girl was blonde and looked to be around Elena's age. She was rather tall too, and she watched you with an appraising gleam in her sharp, preparatory, blue eyes. Those eyes reminded you of Kol's - you smiled wryly. 

"What's that buzzing sound?" She asked first, glancing around. Her voice blared in your ears, your hearing aids dramatically enhancing the annoyed tone of it. You flinched. Turning your head, you pointed out your hearing aids to her, proceeding to lower the volume on them. She tilted her head curiously. "Are those little devices how you heard me coming?" The girl wondered. You nodded. "Huh… Are you Y/N?" You nodded again. "Do you know who I am?" You shook your head. Her eyes flicked down to your semi subtle attempt at hiding the candlestick and she smirked, gesturing vaguely at it. "Concealing your weapon, are we? I can see why Kol likes you so much. Come now love, what is it? Is it the revolver or the lead pipe?"

You chuckled softly at the sheer irony as you showed her the bronze candlestick. The girl's eyes widened and she smirked in amusement. Then she strode forward and stuck out her hand for you to shake, which is exactly what you did.

"My name's Rebekah," She said. "Kol's my older brother; he called me and asked me to keep an eye out for you." 

"Why-why go? Why d-did, uh, it?" You asked skeptically.

Rebekah shrugged. "I owe him," She replied easily. "Besides, us girls need to stick together." She smiled and you returned it. "Also, did you whack Stefan Salvatore over the head with that thing?" The girl pointed to the candlestick in your hand and you just nodded vigorously. Her grin grew wider. "Oh, darling, I like you! Let's go get you cleaned up before Kol gets back, yeah? He's real anxious to see you." 

Rebekah threw an arm around your shoulders and you followed her lead out of the woods. 

Turns out, Kol and the rest of his family were loaded, so you spent the rest of your evening in comfort at their enormous mansion. Rebekah gave you some fresh clothes for you to change into, which you appreciated despite them being a bit too big. She also introduced you to her other brother, Elijah who you helped solve a crossword puzzle. You also helped Rebekah with her homework because the poor girl was seriously struggling in algebra. 

Five hours after you had arrived, the door to the kitchen opened behind you and someone threw their keys on the counter. You sat at the bar, checking the last problem on Bekah's homework while she watched over your shoulder. Elijah sat behind you, reading a really thick book. When you heard the door open, you smirked and turned around. Standing in the doorway was Kol. His hair was tousled and his chocolate eyes were an innocent kind of tired. You thought he looked soft.

"Hello, K-ol!" You chirped.

The grin that spread across his face could have lit up the whole world but it was only meant for you. "Hello, Y/N/N." He waved.

You hopped off your stool and ran to him, jumping up so you could throw your arms around his shoulders. Kol caught you and held on tight, burying his face in your neck. His whole body curled around yours and neither of you said a word because no words needed to be said. You gasped as he turned his head to press a few heated kisses along your jaw, but he made no move to take it anywhere further. Not at the moment. Kol wasn't done holding you yet.

Your cheeks flared with heat as someone behind you cleared their throat and you were abruptly reminded that you weren't alone. 

"I know Elijah," Kol mumbled into your neck. "I owe you for keeping Klaus away, I've got it."

Rebekah just huffed and stalked out of the room. You turned your head a bit to watch as Elijah closed his book. 

"No, actually I was going to say that for this one-" He gestured to you. "-I'd be more than happy to do it again."

Kol merely sent his brother a thumbs up and went back to kissing your neck. That wasn't very nice of him so you smacked his arm and he sighed, glancing up at Elijah. "Thank you for the offer, I'll keep it in mind. Now bugger off!" You smacked his arm again. "Alright, bugger off please?" He added. 

Elijah huffed a laugh and left the room. When he was gone, Kol turned back to you. His eyes turned a little more sad now that you were alone.

"Y/N…  I just want to say-" 

You slapped your hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up so you could talk. But you didn't. You signed instead.

You pointed to yourself. 

Then crossed your arms over your chest.

Then you pointed at him.

"I love you."

Kol grinned and smoothed his hands over your arms. You pulled him close again for another hug but this time Kol's hands gripped your thighs, prompting you to hook your legs around him. A breeze skipped over your skin and your surroundings changed in an instant. Kol placed you down on his bed and moved to shut the door before returning. You blushed deeply, shying away from him as he climbed over you. 

"S-slow?" You asked quietly. He smiled and cupped your cheek, brushing the loose strands of hair away from your face. Kol left a lingering kiss to your forehead. Then he moved, ghosting his lips along your bright pink cheeks. Your eyes fluttered closed and he kissed those next. His feather-soft lips trailed along your jaw and then finally met yours for a kiss that lit a fire in your lungs that spread through your whole body. You felt warm. Kol was warm.

"You're beautiful," He whispered, urging you to lie back. Kol kissed you gently, tucking stay wisps of hair behind your ears as you shifted. "I'd do anything for you." That boy deepened his kiss, drawing a soft moan out of you that turned his breaths shallow. Kol pulled back and those chocolate eyes of his burned into yours. "Broken or not-" He said. "-I love every part of you."

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @musically-ambiguous @apolloroid

[crown-ov-horns]

I said I have 4 storylines of Good Omens fanfiction (including the Crossover with Legion). Had I said that today, I would've lied. There's five.

["Diary entry" under the cut, so there's no litany on an unwilling scroller's feed]

NOTE: I haven't seen S2 of GO, not do I intendt to, so beware of canon divergence

Well... The 5th one is less a coherent storyline, more a concept. I was playing Gardenscapes, and suddenly thought "What if F!Crowley were my Antichrist's mother?"

You know, maybe Crowley owed Satan a new Antichrist, or something. I guess, she'd have screwed up this one, too... Well, she'll gladly take over the world, she just won't destroy it.

The conversation (between myself and myself) went about like this:

Me: ...

Also me: what if?..

Me: for fuck's sake, not again

Also me: Lady Crowley...

Me: please stop

Also me: Was Maxine's mother?

Me: whyever would she be her mother?

Also me: because she owed Satan for the ruined Apocalypse, and had to carry the next Antichrist

Me: Maxine doesn't want the Apocalypse, she's a sane politician

Also me: works for Crowley

Me: she also has black hair and blue eyes

Also me: Satan has black hair and blue eyes, Benedict's not his faceclaim, anyway

Me: fine, why would her last name be Frost?

Also me: Satan goes by Lucian Frost on Earth

Me: why would he ever go by the surname Frost?

Also me: a not to Dante's Inferno

Me: I hate you

Also me: 🤪

Me: you're killing me

Also me: with pleasure 😊

[End dialogue.]

Now, like I always do with any new idea, I of course collapsed down into the daydreaming pit, which often turns fanfiction, and original stories alike, into Tolkien-level complex universes you'd need a lifetime to fully explore.

I thought, it could be funny. When Max meets Anathema and Newt's daughter Agnes in Oxford, they can bond over their unhinged families.

"You'll probably think my parents are weird as fuck, they have a pet raccoon they dye black, and pretend is a cat."

"Honey, no, I get you. My mother mentally abuses her house plants, and wears sunglasses at midnight."

Rich people things, I guess. I mean, they're both nepo babies, who would ask questions about why their families are weird. Who would ask questions about why a rising star politician's mother mentally abuses her house plants.

There's a lot of potential for comedy. Crowley's issues with her sister-in-law, for example. Satan and Michael... They have a strange dynamic. The last time they spoke to each other is mentioned in the Book of Jude. But, they both have the familia ante omnia, blood is everything mentality. They support each other's political aim. They would kill for each other. And, Michael feels very protective (possessive, even) over her niece (the family mediator, why do you think she's a perfect diplomat). It would annoy the Hell (Heaven?) out of Crowley. Still, in the end, she and Michael would probably kill for each other, also.

I'd imagine Satan forbidding any contact with his disowned son... I don't know. In my fanfictions (where he is a thing), Maxine and Adam usually do have eventual contact, and consider themselves siblings (do keep in mind, though, Max would always choose her father over her brother). Satan doesn't mind her not wanting the Apocalypse, as long as she's loyal to him. He sees good points in her arguments against. He never really cared for it, anyway, it was mostly the armies.

Also... Maxine rides horses, ever since she was a child. Crowley doesn't get along with animals, everyone knows that. But. She's the nightmare equestrian mom (think soccer mom, only worse - much worse). How does she get along with Max's animals?.. Well, Titan (the hellhound) actually likes her. Ulysses (the horse) tolerates her. Horus (the falcon - yes, Max's so posh she's in the falconry hobby)... I have no idea. He'd probably sit on her shoulder, sometimes. But, Crowley's anxious around him, since snakes aren't usually friends with raptors.

At first, I thought about conflict between Crowley and Maxine. For example, her refusing to ride in the Bentley, because she (every author must place pieces of them in their characters) despises Queen. But... I don't like writing that. I like writing loving, healthy relationships between mothers and daughters. So, it's more "What do you mean you're bad at being a demon? You caused the Fall of Humankind. None of them can compare to you", and"You'll be the perfect Secretary-General of the United Nations, honey". We love mothers and daughters supporting each other here. ❤

I even thought of cute scenarios, like Crowley coiling in Max's crib, because she's anxious, and wants to protect her baby.

Max is fiercely protective of Crowley. That's why she'd be in conflict with Beelzebub - funny enough, for a similar season to the other stories (Beelzebub causes the death of her adoptive mother, after she realizes she's raising the Antichrist). Beelzebub hates Crowley, and the Beast of Rev. will show her very sharp teeth, should someone threaten her mom. Satan's on his family's side, don't worry.

Actually... You know why this story is cool? Horrific things happen to Crowley in my other fics. Not this one. Actually, she's doing great. She's the Queen of Hell. Damn... She'd outrank Beelzebub. She could terrorize... Her? Like I said, I haven't seen S2, Ι don't know the pronouns, and I don't care, you can get them right if it matters to you (I just know in S2 an actress from Bridgerton played her (?)).

As for Satan/Crowley... As long at Crowley's female, I don't mind it. I like it. Good for you, you little serpent tempter. Because, you know I always romanticise the Devil.

Have I any ideas for smut? You bet I do. I even have crack ideas... You know that picture of a female wolf protecting a male wolf's throat? Think that, but Crowley's coiled around Satan in her snake form, and snaps at anyone who wanders close.

So, I let this out into the web. Now I'll have to actually do it. Wish me luck. 😑

[raeuberprinzessin]

Coffee Fairy Twins - Chapter 3 - Shadows of what could have been

Summary:

Marinette always knew that she was a fairy and that Tom wasn’t her biological father. But he was her papa and he adored her and she never felt the need to know her biological father. But she never knew that she had a twin brother. Tim never knew he had a twin sister. He also never knew that the people he thought were his parents kidnapped him as an infant or that it was his biological father who adopted him. And since he had no idea that he was a fairy - or that fairies existed for that matter - he seemed like an ordinary human to almost everyone (immortal megalomaniacs may be an exception). Sabine never knew that the child she thought was taken from her was still alive. And Bruce? Bruce never knew that his parents hadn’t been fairies (or maybe he didn’t want to know) or that one of his Robins, who he thought to be human, had a lot more in common with him than he thought.

But it might only take a nightmare and a shiny new pair of wings or two to change all that.

AO3 | Masterlist

Chapters: First | Previous | Next

An immense power rippled through the magic veins that span the globe. Alfred was an old fairy. Well, maybe not by fairy standards, he could barely claim an age of half a millennium. Still, it was an impressive age as a fairy living amongst humans and not in the Otherworld.

Nevertheless it was rare to feel a ripple like that when he wasn’t attending a Blessing Ceremony. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe right after the ripples hit Gotham and it was pure willpower alone that brought him from the medbay, where he had restocked some of their supplies, over to the bat computer to answer the questions that would doubtlessly come.

“Agent A? Can you hear me?” his son’s voice already asked. He could hear the concern that told him, someone else had already unsuccessfully tried to contact him.

“I’m here, I just had to get over from the medbay,” he answered in a calming manner. Everyone else fell silent. It was practically already the answer they had sought.

“So, you just felt it as well?” Dick wanted to know.

“I have,” he confirmed. His breath had returned but there was still a tingling feeling in his body. The kind of feeling one would get in a numb limb when the feeling returns. “Maybe this is a sign to end patrol early for tonight.”

Gotham had the dubious pleasure to be located on a hub of the magical veins. One of the reasons everything just went batshit crazy as Jason once described it. A ripple like this one would lure the craziest of Gotham’s Rogues out of the shadows.

“The disturbance occurred at 00:07 am, it’s too early to return on a saturday night,” Bruce decided and even though his children loved to disagree in any other case, they hated cutting patrol short more. Alfred sighed internally. “As you wish, sir,” he answered and resigned himself to attempt to balance the ripples as fast as he could. It was always easier if he had the other fairies in their family near. Bruce, his son, even though he still had no idea, that his parents hadn’t been fairies, Dick, Jason, who came back as a fairy after his death, probably thanks to the hub of magic veins, and Damian, although their youngest was only a half-fairy and concerningly unbalanced himself. It happened when the fairy-parent didn’t introduce counter-measures. A strong bond to a fairy companion, who also supported the not-fairy addition to the relationship would be ideal. Although a confidant, willing to support the relationship would also do it. Of course, this needed the willingness to be open with another fairy.

And willingness to be open and therefore vulnerable with someone else was not something his son excelled at. You could say he was allergic to it. If Thomas and Martha had been there longer …

He missed his old friends. Alfred had lived with the Wayne family for many generations due to a debt he owed once. And after that he stayed. The hub was one reason. 

There were many magic hubs around the world, some smaller, some larger, although the one under Gotham was without a doubt one of the largest. Almost comparable to some in Ireland, which was the country with the most magic activity. Hubs were places with a lot of magical energy that could be used to open portals to the Otherworld most Fairies lived in. Fairies and magic users with special talents could even use all this energy to travel to parallel worlds with their own human and fairy worlds. 

The Gotham hub had been corrupted even before Alfred came here. And it only seemed to get worse and more unstable the longer nothing was done. He had the theory that some sort of current carried every taint from all over the world - and since hubs connected to other worlds as well, maybe even from there - to Gotham. And years ago some fairy hunters found a way to use the magic. This was what had cost his companion her life.

Vega had been magnificent. Alfred had never been easily impressed but Vega did so again and again. She had been kind and peace-loving and in her burned a determination he had only ever seen in her and their son. Vegaon on the other hand once told him that she had been inspired by her grandmother. After Azelio had become queen, she had done everything to make sure most humans thought fairies didn't exist. It was the best protection for their kind. 

Alfred would argue she used the rivalries between fairy families and fairies and humans to take this position, but she just had the willpower to do what Alfred himself would have wanted to do, so he didn't think too much about it. The only exception Azelio had made were the families of blessed guardian knights. The knights were originally human but received a fairy blessing which gave them some magical powers and a prolonged life span. Knights could live as long as the fairy who blessed them, if they weren't killed and even killing them was a lot harder than killing a normal human. In the many years since his friends Thomas and Martha had been killed Alfred had often wondered if he could have changed their fate, had he been more persistent. He had offered them to bless them. He had wanted to one day properly introduce them to Vega. He just knew they would have become a close-knit group.

But Vega had been killed by hunters, right here in Gotham. They had used the tainted magic to rip apart her mind into tiny shreds until there was nothing left of her except the weapon they wanted.

The pain of losing a companion is immeasurable, he was told, but Alfred wouldn't agree. He didn't lose Vega. She was taken from him. And he measured the pain in dead hunters. He didn't regret their deaths, but looking in the mirror afterwards he couldn't help but regret what this turned him into. Many years later he would see the same pain in Bruce after Jason was taken from them. And he feared to see his son repeat his own experience until Tim pushed into their lives to prove he could out-stubborn Batman himself. Alfred loved all his grandchildren, but he couldn't help but feel especially grateful to him. Tim had saved Bruce and brought him back to him twice now. He wasn't just the boy who figured out Gotham's best kept secret, but the Robin who saves Batman - even from himself.

Looking back, he didn't have all that much time to regret anything, because it was 1924 and some thug shot Martha and Thomas Wayne for some measly dollars and a pearl necklace. Suddenly he had to be there for his 8-year old son who had no idea he was his father. He had to become his father figure instead of his butler or family friend.

"Thinking of me?"

Alfred opened his eyes, not knowing when he had closed them and turned to the voice. His mentor and confidant walked from the shadows. Considering he didn't see her car anywhere he could only assume she came here by shadow walking.

"Good evening, Leslie," he greeted, for once not bothering to hide his exhaustion. She would understand more than anyone. When he was born, the changeling tradition was very different from the one today. He didn't know who his biological parents were. And back then they hadn't figured out things like the Blessing Ceremony during which young fairies got their wings. Weird things started to happen around him and one night he had awoken from a sleep filled with nightmares that would make Jonathan Crane envious and in the first light of the rising sun he had seen the giant wings he now had. The family he worked for at the time chased him away and when he showed up at the house he had been raised in, his older brother almost decapitated him with an ax.

He had roamed about, cold, hungry and lonely, until Leslie found him and taught him everything. Years ago, when he couldn't bring himself to tell Bruce about his parentage, he asked her if she was his mother. "I've always preferred being a mentor over being a mother, Alfred," was all she told him. It wouldn't have changed anything anyway.

Alfred didn't know his parents, but he knew Leslie and she was there when he needed her. After Vega was taken from him, she decided to stay in Gotham to help with the steadily increasing strain the tainted magic caused.

"When are the others coming back?" she asked casually as she sat down on a chair near him. "They're not," he answered, too tired to formulate a full sentence.

Leslie was silent but Alfred could feel her gaze and finally assumed a proper seating position.

"Batman decided it's too early to return on a Saturday night," he explained. Leslie scoffed.

"Do you know what caused the disturbance," he tried to change the subject. 

For a moment his old mentor seemed as if she wouldn't go for it, but then she gave him a vague nod. "I heard there was a Blessing Ceremony in Paris. Rumors say Azelio and Omaru planned to attend which would make sense since we could feel the magical explosion all over here. This would at least explain the disturbance coming from the east. But there was another disturbance coming from the west, just as strong as the one from Paris. They clashed over Gotham which is probably why you're so exhausted. Gotham's taint and a clash of two powerful magical awakenings would do that."

"How big is the chance that two fairies had their awakening at the same time?" he wondered. Not very likely. But not entirely impossible.

"Considering the power we could still feel here they probably were able to complete the whole ritual from midnight to sunrise. When did the sun rise in Paris today?"

Alfred turned to the Batcomputer and looked it up. "06:07 am. Batman said the disturbance occurred at 00:07 am and Paris is 6 hours before us." So it was the most reasonable assumption that they had felt the disturbance of the ceremony in Paris, just …

"Twins have to have their awakening at the same time. But they are also at the same place."

They were both silent as they had the same thought. “Except when they're not in the same place. There might be a reason why they wouldn't be together,” she finally said softly what they were both thinking. Alfred massaged the bridge of his nose. This wasn't his problem. He now knew what caused the disturbance. He would relay that information and be done with it. Why should it be his problem if there were powerful twins who for some reason didn't share their Blessing Ceremony?

“Do you know where the other awakening was if the queen and the king both were at the one in Paris?” he asked. At the same time something about this felt strange. Separated twins and both of the leaders only joined one ceremony? Was it possible they simply didn't know about the other twin? And who had their awakening that both leaders were there? Usually only family members and invited friends would celebrate a Blessing Ceremony. Were the twins the children of one of their children? He didn't know much about the King's family, but his grandmother-in-law had a few children and some of them had children as well. But he thought most of them lived in the Otherworld. Although, Vega had at least one sister who loved exploring the human world. The Blessing Ceremonies in this family had never been big occasions, so he wasn’t sure what was normal. Bruce had only wanted Leslie and him there, Dick could barely be convinced to come back to the manor for his ceremony and Jason had his awakening when he was with the League of Assassins. And Damian would probably be too unstable for the next few decades. Today, usually a fairy would be deemed an adult according to the place they lived at before the Blessing Ceremony would be initiated, but especially half-fairies could be too unstable and in that case the magical awakening would be pushed back if possible.

Something about that thought tickled something in Alfred’s subconsciousness. He just didn’t know what or why.

“Don't worry. I’m sure if that fairy was alone, another fairy close by noticed the disturbance and will help them. Just like I helped you. And maybe they won't even have to chase after the newly winged fairy,” Leslie replied dryly. Alfred didn’t even react to this any more. She liked to remind him when he worried too much in her opinion that had he stayed where he was, she would have found him within a few days after his awakening. But she was probably right. If it was too far away for them to make out where the new fairy was, they couldn’t do anything. There probably was another fairy closer than them.

Alfred opened the fairies-only com line and told them what he had learned from Leslie. Bruce just gave a noncommittal grunt, Dick sounded excited about the idea of twins having their magical awakening at the same time and Jason expressed his sympathy for the twin who wouldn’t want to have their awakening with both of the fairy rulers there. Damian demanded they should both attend his ceremony as well and Alfred closed that line on his end just as Dick reminded Damian that the ceremony was for family and friends.

He obviously couldn’t tell them that Azelio might agree to come, since Damian was her great-great-grandson.

“Is everyone out tonight?” Leslie asked. She had sat down next to him and he felt her magic weave around and straighten out the tangled up magical veins, cleansing what she could at the same time.

“Yes, except for Tim. He is at the Titans Tower to celebrate his birthday with his friends,” he told her as he let his own magic flow out and follow the veins to reach as far as he could as fast as he could.

“Has Bruce finally told Tim and asked him to become a knight?” Leslie asked, unknowingly hitting a sore spot. Alfred tensed at that. It was an ongoing discussion amongst the fairies in the manor. Should they tell Tim and ask him to become a knight? Cass had become a knight after her 18th birthday. It would give Tim added protection and every vigilante could use that. Also, since he went out alone to bring Bruce back from the time stream Tim had drifted a bit away from the family. Telling him and asking him to become a knight might pull him back to them a bit.

Yet, Bruce still didn’t want to hear about it.

“Bruce still thinks Tim might be able to stop with the vigilantism and he doesn’t want anything to hold him back. He thinks, because he wasn’t pushed into it, he would one day be able to get out.”

“Alfred, please excuse me, but Bruce is an idiot.” Leslie shook her head slightly. “Tim won’t quit. Yes, nobody pushed him into this life, he could have easily lived as a normal civilian, but Tim chose this. He went out at night long before Bruce was part of his life. If you ask me, Bruce would quit before Tim would even think about it.”

“You know that, I know that, I’m sure even Tim will tell you that. But we both also know how stubborn Bruce can be. I can only hope that nothing happens to him before Bruce comes to his senses. Because if Tim isn’t there, I don’t know who would be able to pull Bruce back again.”

[knightsandjedis]

Season 5- everything is getting wacky

Warning, the ramblings shall commence and this post is spoilerish, you've been warned. Just completed watching the newest season of The Dragon Prince and I can say that Season 5 was definitely a major improvement over Season 4. I liked Season 4 but it just felt condensed? Not the right word I'm looking for but the plot felt smaller in scale compared to Season 3 (which still remains the best in my opinion at least.) Love the world-building in this show because it's nice to see all the different cultures and unique individuals that live in these different territories. While I thought there was a stronger plot this season there were some things making me hesitant or made me scratch my head. All the characters are great even the ones that infuriate me (Janai's brother can bug off).

First off, why does Viren's vision of Claudia walking into the bloody water look like something out of Berserk???? I was wondering if Femto from the Eclipse episodes of Berserk was going to pop up somewhere in this vision because of how scarily similar the world appeared (Don't look up Femto or the Eclipse if you don't like gory or EXTREMELY dark stuff, it'll give you nightmares ). And I love Claudia and mourn the dark path she's on I still kinda want to see her transition into a major Dark magic user. There is such potential with her as a villain and it seems the production team keeps flirting the line of her crossing into the point of no return but are hesitant to push her full on into a villain role. She's more of a lackey and it kinda makes me sad because I would love to see how her fully embracing dark magic and how it will influence those around her. Basically, Viren needs to step back for Claudia to move forward which might be the new plot developing soon. Also, love Terry but he's kinda holding her back, too. His character helps to humanize her and he's a cool guy, just wish they do more with him as the story progresses.

Viren is a great villain and his nightmare visions show the complexity of his character but it feels like it's time for him to move on so other characters get moments to shine (or darken sorry Claudia but I want you as a major player when it comes to villains). Seeing the affection he used to bestow on Soren makes you tear up, I wonder if he'll apologize to his son before passing on? He owes apologies to both but Soren was made to feel unloved and unwanted. With Viren's passing, I would prefer to see Claudia go on a path of vengeance for her father passing. It felt frustrating for Viren to basically just be a mummy that everyone has to tote around, his plot-line is over and the production team is being wishy-washy about killing his character. They're hinting Viren might be departing soon but Aaravos may have other plans which leads into my next segment.

I love Aaravos, he's such a compelling character and I know the team states he's not a villain but he's still not someone people want to mess with. Sadly, I think he should have been introduced later in the series since everything is starting to feel like padding in the buildup. There's several great story-lines happening in the newest seasons but they just feel hollow occasionally since people are wanting this unique, extremely powerful elf that even makes dragons tremble to finally be released to see how his presence changes the world. (Why the heck was the Water Dragon not given more screen-time???? Entirely different topic but I wanted to learn more about her).

More to add on Aaravos' influence, I know some people want Aaravos to have a thing for Viren but I'm not feeling it. He's playing that man like a puppet, Viren has an inferiority complex and Aaravos has been saying just the right things to make Viren dependent on him. He wanted a puppet to get him out of his magic prison and Viren- and all his supporters- played right into Aaravos's hand. The mockery in his voice when he tells Viren to kill "our child" makes me shiver, he's not being affectionate he wanted a backup plan since Viren showed he still possessed love for his children in an earlier season. Claudia is a wild card while Viren is more easily controlled hence why he may keep him around. The one credit image of Viren with Aaravos and "Sparklefly (whatever Claudia named him)" is creepy. Viren looks uncomfortable and like someone whose fed up with everything the elf has done to him. There's no love between the two, Viren wanted someone to acknowledge him as someone worthwhile while Aaravos needed a tool and finds Viren amusing. Everyone has their preference but I would have preferred King Harrow to have been his love interest if things were different and no betrayals happened. Plus, there was an underlying romantic tone in the vision that didn't make me buy the whole "we're brothers" thing. Maybe the team will give Aaravos and Viren something to work with that makes the relationship less toxic because all I can see is a manipulator toying with the perfect puppet. Plus, Aaravos looks so amused while looking at the Viren chess piece in his hand in the opening. Like he's been a fun piece to play in the puzzle.

Why do Ezran and Zim feel like extras in a story that's focused on "The Dragon Prince"??????????? I know Aaravos is the main threat but why has their plot importance been reduced? They don't even feel like main characters anymore just cool sidekicks. It was great to see older characters return though, Nyx can be a pain but I adore her design and personality. Kinda want to dress up like the Huntress with the pink tips and red nails for Halloween, so freaking cool!!! And Soren, you share the role of being the heart of the team with Ezran. Hoping Elmer makes more appearances, not sure why but I love the big crab guy. Is Aanya coming back? Lots of things to look forward to and this show keeps you on the edge of your seat, can't wait for more to come!!

[bonniebird]

Recovery things I think Billy Hargrove would have gone through if he’d been rescued from Neil

Trigger warnings: Based on my experience with a parent like Neil Hargrove and being responsible for a younger sibling. Some people might find triggering/ upsetting and some of the terms may be wrong as my therapist and I have a short hand.

Billy being allowed to find out what his favourite colour is and what his favourite food is (Parents like Neil will pick what you like/ allowed to like based on what they idealise you to be like so these two would be big deals. It’s actually really hard to do.)

Billy getting to have decent furniture and be allowed to keep it without any conditions or expectations of him owing anyone anything. (He’s the scapegoat child so he will purposefully have not been given nice furniture of would have had to but his own while Max would have been given everything new specifically to cause a rift between the two. Billy and Max make up half the Hargrove household if Neil keeps them apart he has more control) 

Billy finding his fav cologne (Neil would have most likely given Billy his old cologne and Billy just kept buying that because it is a ‘safe’ item)

Billy going through an imprinting phase when he trusts people (I think he’d start with Max and El and then develop trust from there)

Billy learning to self-soothe because of the support he has/ develops.

Becoming more engaged as he trusts the group and growing into his version of himself.

Less of him dissociating / no more scenes of him smoking, drinking listening to music watching TV and working out all at once because he’ll begin to be able to be alone with his own thoughts without negative thoughts or panic attacks.

Teaching Max to swim/surf (even if she already can) because it’s a natural ground and something he’s good at so he’ll be more confident bonding with her.

Becoming less sexualised when the adults around him value him as a person and human being rather than an object.

Billy being surprised that physical contact can be a good thing (If Joyce is involved in his recovery she’d help him handle this and it would make the acceptance process of not every physical touch is bad a lot faster) 

Billy getting used to platonic hugs/kisses and not flinching or feeling sick when he’s hugged.

Billy being given gifts unconditionally or without the expectation of doing or giving something in return. (Being given gifts would have been transactional. I gifted you a pair of school shoes you needed so now you owe me. I was nice enough to get you a birthday present you’re in my debt.)

Spreading/stopping resource guarding. (In the show Billy has his most valuable items around his bed in easy-to-grab spaces. Neil doesn’t view Billy as a person separate from himself so as far as he is concerned, anything Billy owns Neil owns. But eventually, Billy would feel comfortable enough to eventually stop resource guarding)

His struggle switch becomes easier to deal with as his brain deals with and recovers from the trauma of surviving 18 years of abuse. 

Becoming less sexualised as he starts to be respected and acknowledged as a person and not an object by the people around him.

Billy being having fewer nightmares because he is able to talk to people about what’s going on.

Being shocked when someone else cleans up after him / cooks for him as the scapegoat child he’s been the one cleaning the Hargrove house and cooking.

Collecting phase. Billy isn’t supposed to take up space in the Hargrove house as it would have been considered an attack on Neil. A nice rock, cool acorn, a wrapper of a sweet he had and really liked. Eventually, he’ll get rid of it but for a few months, the item will be a positive memory trigger.

Fidgeting. Billy will get to a point about 7-16 months into his recovery where he’s jittery and fidgeting. Mostly with his hands as the hands are often used as a way to self-soothe. At first, he’d be aggressive (Day one - month 5/6) because he’s uncertain that being removed will last (Parents like Neil have a nasty habit of always escaping trouble and managing to show up at the worst possible moment) but eventually once he is secure and sure he’s safe he’ll calm down which will lead to nervous behaviour. He may also have stressed-induced OCD ticks as often people who have traumatic early childhoods develop them.

Max insisting on helping Billy with a hobby. Personally, I think working on his car or building something. Billy has spent a huge portion of his life protecting his mum and then Max from Neil so that’s something that’s going to be hard to stop doing especially as it would have been a condition for his survival,  (Make sure Max is fed, has a clean house, gets places she needs to go and you won’t be beaten). That is something that is so difficult to unlearn so he’s going to go through a phase where everything Max does makes him mad because she’s not careful enough. Everything from stumbling up the curb to climbing up a tree and jumping out is going to have him running after her like a mother hen who raised a duckling that got into the water for the first time.

Gift-giving / false love bombing. For a while, if Billy feels indebted or like he has strong emotions towards people he will give them gifts as he won’t know how to process/handle certain emotions. Unlike Neil who loves bombs to trap people in a relationship with him, Billy will gift give in place of emotional interactions.

Info dumping! If Billy finds someone he trusts and someone who will genuinely have an interest in his thoughts and opinions he will tell them everything and I mean every single thought he has in his head. No detail is too small or big. He will most likely tell them the same story several times as well.

Hypersexuality/Hyposexuality phases. Because of how adults have treated him in the past and Neil's obsession with manliness, Billy’s identity that he’s been allowed to develop has been hypersexual. People value him because he’s pretty and sex triggers chemicals that make him feel good physically and mentally. However, when he starts developing as a person away from Neil he’s going to start questioning the behaviour which will be reinforced by people taking an interest in what he likes/hates things he’s interested in. Once he’s secure this should level out.

His trauma amnesia might start to give him memory flashes and he’ll be able to remember his mother’s face more clearly as his brain heals. Around this time things like smells and sounds will make him oversensitive and he might display age regressive behaviours or cause him to have outbursts of anger. He will probably start to remember more severe traumatic events and will need therapy to avoid a recovery relapse.  

If his mother is still alive (Personally I think Neil killed her when she tried to leave and Billy’s brain blocked it out or rewrote what happened as he was going for her face and neck and he goes for billy’s neck in the show which shows a pretty severe abusive situation.) He might seek her out after a few years. If it goes well he’ll have up and down moments when seeing her. His mood will build and reach a peak when meeting her and then his mood will plummet to normal levels after seeing her which can lead to depressive episodes or emotions that he can’t handle/control (Again if Joyce is involved I think this is something that she would be able to handle really well with him.)

Anxiety. He’s going to be made of anxiety. There will be days when he can’t go outside during the first few months. The day Neil moves out of Hawkins is the day you’ll see him strutting down the street with a smile on his face like it was the best day of his life. He’ll have several different safety habits to help cope with his anxiety. 

He’ll be independent to a fault, probably to the point of sleepless hair falling out stress, but will also try to take on whatever Max needs as well. He’s been made responsible for her since she joined the Hargrove family and it’s a hard habit to break.

[obscureoldguy]

This Is Where I Live Now

Our country is broken. And I now live among the human pieces of our broken nation. I am harbored now in a cheap motel where the signs of heartache and broken lives are all around. This place attracts the down and out because it offers a cheap weekly rate.

There are several regular homeless people who wander about the grounds of the motel as well as the adjoining local strip malls.

There are single mothers with young children living here from day to day, or from week to week. Some of the women own old automobiles with the cliché cartoon family decal affixed to the back window, but with the father figure scratched away with a razor blade, leaving only the stick figures of a mother and one or two children.

There is a whole population here of teens; living in a hotel with their parents- so many that the local school system sends a school bus here each weekday morning and then again in the evening. Imagine being one of these teens- the embarrassment they must feel about where they live, and how because of this, they probably never invite their classmates over after school… Instead, I see some of them playing with each other, with soccer balls, in the parking lot from time to time.

There is a fellow here who does not rent a room, but instead lives out of his Ford Bronco, along with his sweet female pit-bull Lucy, because the parking lot of this motel is a safe place in which to park all night and not be hassled by the police to “Move on- you’re trespassing.”

At a nearby strip mall there is a homeless man with an entourage of six filled to the brim shopping carts full of his belongings. Each of the six shopping carts are covered in hanging plastic bags full of the accoutrements of his nightmare life. From what I can see, he seems now to be so out of touch with reality that he never speaks to anyone. His daily routine subsists of moving all of his six carts from one side of the nearby intersection to the other side, and then the next day, moving them all back again. It is very distressful to see a human being reduced to such a condition. I often wonder where he relieves himself..

At the edge of one of the parking lots where this fellow stations himself each day is a small sign which reads:

“Daycare Available- Four Months To Six Years Old- Until Midnight M-F. Call 555-111-2222”

Until midnight. Until midnight… What kind of a society forces a young mother or a single father to have to work up until midnight in order to support themselves and their child. And what sort of a society allows a child to grow up in a situation where she or he does not see their parent every weekday from early in the morning, until very late at night. And what does that do to a child, in the long run- being raised this way?

****

I could not pay my property taxes. Instead, I kept hoping I would win The Lotto in order to pay what I owed. And yes, as you can tell, I suppose I never really grew up.

I have been a professional actor most of my life. When I was thirteen years old, I joined a professional theater company, headed by a lovely English woman named Joan. 

At that time, I began hand writing what I thought would be a very great screenplay in a journal notebook. At age thirteen, I really did not know whatI was doing, but that of course, did not stop me. With the optimism of youth and innocence, I was sure that my story was brilliant.

One day I told Joan about this project of mine, and asked her if if she would mind reading my screenplay; as I would be very interested to hear her comments upon it. In her lovely upper class English accent she said;

“Oh yes, Richard, I would be delighted to read it. I am rather busy right now, but I will most definitely read it with pleasure, and then I shall let you know what I think of it. Just allow me about two weeks, alright?”

At the close of two weeks I came upon Joan one day and asked her if she had finished reading my screenplay and if so what she thought of it. With a terribly serious look she said to me;

“Come into my office, Richard.” I followed her into her private office, and she closed the door behind us. She then sat down at her desk and motioned for me to take a seat in the chair across from it. Then with a voice full of grave sobriety, she looked me straight in the eye and said;

“Oh Richard- you have GOT to get out of that house, and away from your parents as quickly as you possibly can.”

Having been an only child, I had no siblings to whisper in my ear

“Um, you know that mom and dad are quite crazy don't you?”

I truly do not feel comfortable blaming my mother or my father for my predicament in this late stage of my life; it feels like a cop out to do so. Rather, I accept responsibility for the situation I now find myself in. Still, I do often wonder how my character would've differed from what it is now had I been blessed with different parents, with very different ideas on how to raise a child.

I will write more later.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Don't Blame Me | John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!OC

Chapter 19: Crazier

Ao3 | Masterpost

John goes home.

General Tags: Fake Marriage, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Build, Canon-Typical Violence

Words: 1.4k

God, he missed her. Six weeks was too long, especially after everything. When he got her first text after getting back Gaz had to shake him back to reality.

“Are you going to respond or are you planning on leaving her on read already?” He didn’t want to say to either of them. Her simple ‘hi’ left him frozen in place. Having to leave her felt worse than pulling the knife out of his leg. 

He spent the train ride back to Glasgow sketching her out in his journal. He thumbed the torn edge of the previous page while he frowned at the paper. He couldn’t get her face right. He just kept drawing her mouth. A page full of her smile. 

He couldn’t stay long. He came up to see his Maw and drive his old shit box car back to London. He bought a new turtleneck sweater and lied about getting over bronchitis. He didn’t want her to worry. 

He sat in the kitchen while she made him tea. She still lived in the same flat he and his sister grew up in. She’d painted the walls green after their father died, she said she needed a change. He’d come down for the weekend to help. It’s how he learned he was shit at painting walls. He did always prefer graphite. 

“We missed you at Christmas. Shame work took you away.” She said, setting a mug down in front of him. He went to twist the ring around his finger but it was gone. Oh… he gave it to her before leaving. 

“I’m sorry, Maw. I promise next year I’ll be here.” She sat down across from him and squeezed his hand. 

“Don’t make promises, John. Easy to make, hard to keep. Trying is what matters. I know you tried to be here but you had to go out and save the world.”

“Not the world,” he chuckled. “Not this time.” 

She was right. He made a lot of promises, he could never keep any. Nina could say how she didn’t mind and was glad he was okay but he could still see her tied to that chair and sobbing. The nightmares came and went. He’d wake up fine, decide to roll over, and suddenly be reliving everything. He didn’t want to cry in front of his Maw. Not now. 

“John…are you okay?” She asked. 

“I met someone.” It was a futile attempt to change the subject, another thing he failed. Distract himself from thinking about her by talking about her. 

“Someone? Who are they?” She had lit up. His sister was about to have her second child but it never stopped either of them from asking when he’d pony up and bring home someone. 

“She’s real sweet. It’s early. Really early so you can’t meet her yet.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “She’s had a rough go of it and I just worry I’m not good enough for her. I don’t think I could give her everything she deserves.”

“Would you try?”

“Huh?”

“You’re a tryer, John. Your whole life you try. You don’t quit or back down, as much as I would have liked you to sometimes. I never felt good enough for your Dad and he told me the same. We both tried. If you’re going to try for her and she doesn’t appreciate that, her loss.” She shrugged and clapped her hands together. 

John took a sip of tea. She was right, again. She always was. He was always her boy. She didn’t always approve of the fights or the illegal attempts of enlisting but she always there by his side. 

“John, I want you to try to come to Christmas next year and I want you to try to bring this girl. It’s been long enough since you brought someone home.”

“I’ll try,” he nodded with a smile.

“I do have to ask, is she English?” 

“She is.” He nodded.

“Nobody’s perfect.” 

“Maw.” 

“I’m sure she’s lovely. I do have to call your sister, she owes me.”

“For what?” He furrowed his brow. 

“She said you were gonna bring home a man.” She smiled cheekily as she took a sip from her mug. 

“Maw!” He leaned back and looked at her incredulously. 

“I would have been fine either way. I’ll always support you, John. Man, woman, english…” She laughed. 

“Try to stop by again sooner rather than later.” She said, kissing his cheek as he gathered his coat. 

“I’ll try.” He hugged her. 

“You’re a sweet boy, John. You’ll always be my sweet boy.” She pinched his cheek. “What’s this English girl’s name?”

“Nina.” He smiled. 

“Bring her up with you whenever you feel it’s not early. I want to meet her.” John nodded and kissed her cheek. 

“Love you, Maw.”

“Stay safe, John.” He’d try. 

He drove back with a small pulling on the edges of his mouth. 

The next six weeks were dedicated to him trying. He started seeing a therapist, just to have someone to talk to. He cleaned up his flat, annoying his sister to no end about what girls like. He texted Nina every day to check in on her but avoided being overbearing. He needed to let her grow on her own. He spent his free time researching Kyrat. He did his best to remember what books she’d bought in New York so he could read them. He went to several different American-style grocery stores to find the snacks she liked. He tried to be better. He tried his best for her. 

“I feel like I should get her something for our date on Friday. Any ideas?” He and Gaz were walking around one of the busier shopping areas. Nina got back to London the day before. It took all his willpower and the fact that he didn’t know where Price lived to stop himself from seeing her. 

“Flowers? Chocolate?” Gaz suggested.

“Nah, I want it to special.” 

“Stuffed animal? Girls love stuffed animals. She got a favorite animal?” John stopped. He remembered them in the bathtub and how she asked about cows. 

“Yeah, she does.” 

It took three different stores but he found one. It was a golden brown with white horns and soft grey hooves. 

“A highland cow?” Gaz asked. “Bit on the nose, ain’t it?”

“She said she wanted to see one when I take her to Scotland. She likes them.” He said, pushing its hair out of its eyes. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“It’s cute.” Gaz took it from him and plopped it on his shoulder. “ It’s like a mini you.”

“Fuck off. Give it here.” Gaz dodged as he went to snatch the toy back.

“Too short and too slow, Soap.” 

They quietly chased each other around the store until an employee gave them a hard glare. John took the moment to snatch the cow back and buy it. 

“Should I tie a bow around its neck?” He asked as they left.

He didn’t really have nice clothes so he made do.  A greyish button-down, his newest jeans, and a dark brown jacket. He got her flowers as well. He wasn’t sure what kind so he got the biggest bouquet they had. He didn’t realize flowers cost that much. She was worth it though. 

Price sent him his address that morning. Pick her up at six, and have her home by eleven. He could do that. 

He checked himself over one last time in the rearview mirror. He might have overdone it with the cologne but his hair was looking nice and there wasn’t anything in his teeth. He’d cleaned his car the day before. Gaz sat and watched as he vacuumed up years' worth of crumbs. Went through a whole bottle of stain remover too. 

He pressed the buzzer by the front door.

“You’re not putting her on that bike, are you Mactavish?” Price asked through the speaker.

“No, Sir. I have a car.” He was buzzed in. 

Price was waiting at the door. 

“She’s just finishing up.” Price said, looking down at the flowers and stuffed cow with a raised eyebrow.

“How’s she doing?” John asked.

“Better.”

“Good.”

“What are your plans?” He had an eyebrow raised. 

“Curry, a walk, whatever she wants to do really.” He felt like a teenager again, trying not to incur the wrath of his date’s father.

“Is that John?” He heard Nina call from inside. She sounded excited. She pushed herself between Price and the door frame. She was grinning. “Hi.”

She was gorgeous. Her lips looked how remembered. He'd have to go back and fix her eyes though. 

“Hi, Nina.” He grinned back. 

Tag List: @yeyinde @queen-ilmaree @yearningforsappho @mykneeshurt @gogh-with-the-flow

LMK if you want to be added for this or any other fic 💗

[kens-double-sunglasses]

MC Turns into a child and the child chooses violence part 1st years/the gang

Was this whole Fandom pleasant kids??? Were not a one of you abnormally strong and violent???

I guess it's my job to be the nightmare child here

You'll never guess who caused the alchemy accident

It was the braincell trio. You stepped away and it went with you

Splashed on you

Bam. A child.

"Who are you?"

Oh no, the prefect was a child and doesn't remember them? The list to jump them is out the door already

Ace

Ace goes to pick you up and-

You bit him

"OW! what the fuck, kid?"

"Stranger danger"

Then they kicked him in the shin and ran off

He's totally not doubled over in pain. Shut up

Deuce

Panik

Ha, Ace just got beat up by a toddler

Panik

Running out the door to find the evil toddler

Somehow, the child is too fast. Too furious.

Jack

Simply saw a child running in the halls in one of the school uniform tops

Assumes someone's family member escaped

Goes to pick up the kid and find their guardian

This little shit-

Did they just poke him in the eye?

(I did this on multiple occasions)

Dropped the kid because ouch

The kid bolts and Deuce finds him doubled over

"Have you seen a child? Fucked up? Evil?"

"Is that evil baby yours?!"

"No! It's MC!"

"What?!"

Epel

Deuce warned him to approach child MC with extreme caution

Probably caught them and was holding them away from him

They were screeching at him

But nobody ever expects a child that will kick you

Right in the chest

Talk about ouch

Dropped the little hellion while catching his breath

Sebek

Really thought he had a chance

He had a list of all the possible tricks this little human child could pull

He did not.

Now, I don't know how much the chairs there weigh. But it can't be more than a little tykes picnic table full of water

Threw one of these higher than I was tall^

Nothing could've prepared him to have a chair thrown at him by a human child

Weren't human children supposed to be calm???

Silver was so chill????

The prefect is a Saint?????

Who is this?????? Not waka-sama's emotional support human, surely

Upset that a human child got the jump on him