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ittoslefttoenail · 1 year

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How the Tables Turn

( sorry abt the lack of "read more" i'm on mobile, it's my first smut so hope u like it :D )

sub masochistic brat Kaveh, overstim, degradation with some praise, spanking, dacryphilia, femdom she/her reader, sharing apartments with both him and alhaitham ♡ strap can be read as cock

It's no surprise Kaveh is a biiig brat, always trying to outpower his mistress, as his deepest desire is to be thrown around like a ragdoll, and that's the easiest way to get it.

He, however, wasn't expecting it to be this rough today.

He's been pissing you off ALL DAY. teasing you during work, messing up on purpose whenever u asked him to do something, trying to get the control in general. You really had to teach him a lesson.

"Let's go home now, I think we are done for today" speaking innocently, you pull out your keys.

"As u wish, my lady" he says with that wicked, stupid grin.

Once the door locks behind u both, already aware of what was gonna happen, he pretends to be surprised as u pin him against the wall and start the scolding.

"What the FUCK did u think u were doing?! this was a important meeting, not a appropriate moment at all for u to sneak under my desk like a desperate bitch! I could've lost my job if they noticed us"

"I'm sorryyy~"

"You don't mean it."

The tent under his pants getting bigger by each second, how couldn't he be excited? the woman he fell for, the one he would gladly die for, getting clearly aroused by his actions but still trying to hide it! He thought it was really hot.

Usually you would deny his orgasm, which he was quite used to despite failing to hold it every single time, but this time u just wanted to destroy his smug little face and see him cry.

He kissed u eagerly, taking off his shirt while you guided him to the bedroom. You hold his wrist tightly as he was about to touch the last buttom.

"Let me do this instead."

He looked beautiful from this view, staring at your breasts like a pervert once you bent down to reveal his slightly toned abs, his blonde hair falling on his shoulders like silk.

Suddenly, you pull off his belt to use it as a makeshift handcuff. He struggles against it and u search on ur vanity for some...stuff

"Hey babe, what's going on???" he asked, trying to hide how nervous he is.

"Don't you try and get any answer from me, just take it like the needy brat you are."

"AH-"

In the blink of an eye you pull down his pants and shoves down the fleshlight with no lube at all, in a fast and unexpected pace.

Kaveh growls and whimpers, begging for u to slow down, and the only thing he got from it was a good slap and a red mark on his ass

"You wanted it so bad all day after all, do u think i'll pity you at this point?"

Oh, these words got to him, the both shame and pleasure he gets from being talked down to like that is the biggest turn on, his filthy fantasies clouding his mind.

You align your double sided strap to his entrance, not taking your hands off the fleshlight abusing his cock, not even for a second.

He throws his head back and cries out from this new form of stimulation both of you never tried until tonight.

"What a-about- Alhaitham???!" he manages to babble through his anxious, shallow breath.

"Oh? you're afraid he might catch us? dont worry, I know u would like that."

"Of course I wouldn't. D-don't be stupid!"

"To be caught by your dear friend while getting pegged by your goddess, sounds nice right? you're such a slut, Kaveh. Disgusting, really."

His face is bright red and sweaty, the worst part is that you're not wrong. With your other hand u proceeded to pinch his nipples, he brings his tied arm up to bite down on it to avoid screaming at your flaming touch, as much as he wanted to scream your name, the fear of being caught still got him shaking.

The knot on his stomach got tighter, unleashing his orgasm without warning, thinking he would be punished for cumming without permission he trembles.

"Don't worry, you will get to cum more than u want or deserve to." slapping him once again, it's a quite cute view. His tongue lolling out and his eyes watering as your cock hits the right spot over and over, his cute dick all soaked, you can't help but want to ruin him.

"Please, no more-"

"Aww, cmon baby, u can do one or two more for me yeah? don't you wanna be a good boy for mommy?"

His thoughts start going blank from the sudden sweetness in your voice.

"Nghh..good boy...g-good boy good boy"

His back arches once again, you're in for a good and long night ♡

#kaveh smut #genshin impact #genshin #smut #kaveh #hes such a cute himbo I wanna make him miserable #MEOWWWW #feeling kinda cringe

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dash-n-step · 2 years

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I don’t hate Davepetasprite (they are one of my fav characters) but I do think they wasted a lot of potential bc of how rushed the ending of homestuck was. Davesprite should’ve gotten more time to finish fix some of his problems and Nepetasprite should’ve gotten more time to actually do things before davepetasprite happened. Bc just stoping Davesprites arc to do davepetasprite really makes me :/. Davepetasprite should’ve been a thing both Davesprite and Nepetasprite talked about instead of just being a handshake and *boom* . I wish Davesprite and Nepetasprite hung out more and became besties before fusing. 😢 I hope this makes sense

NOOO but like I GET IT, I do, I really do, and it's such a rough dichotomy (for me) of like [long post]

YES, there's so much more that could've been done with davesprite on his own or even a funny dialogue or two between him and nepetasprite cause we KNOW Nepeta somewhat knows of Dave since she called him "akwete purrmusk" and cute, so there could've been something there or any other number of things that fans have surely thought up of

Like, these are characters that people had YEARS/acts upon acts of getting know, (Davesprite even showing up in a fucking visual novel crossover), I think "OBJECTIVELY" I have to concede that Davepetasprite's creation is almost actively a smack in the face for people wanting more out of both characters on the way to an end that likely had no bigger plans for either of them

You don't make page 7928 (the arquius/davepeta hug page) and write all of this

without knowing how much you're taking the piss towards some of your audience, and how much you're just like, aggressively tired of writing this now over 8000 page comic

BUT like, at the same time, I just consider davepetasprite an active continuation of davesprite's life rather than a sudden cut-off and nepeta's too, and it just seems like it'd be better for more people to just do so as well.

Like there's the obvious "lack of identity due to being tied to a version of yourself that everybody considers more real" from davesprite to "new found sense of self after defining yourself in a new way"

But there's also Davesprite's relation towards Bro that mirrors Dave's: Davesprite got the dramatic "big bro/lil bro team up", there's a level of reconciliation there that Dave can't and never will have, which is good because that's how Dave branched off into learning how to move past that stuff that he never wanted anything to do with.

Meanwhile Davesprite "completed" that sort of "hero's training arc", and with it he got all the short ends of the deal. His big moment's over and they didn't even win, his "master"/brother is dead, his version of his sister and friends are all gone, and he spends the rest of the comic meandering around, due to a lack of an active goal, thinking he was already going to get a big climatic send off, and the aforementioned identity crisis.

Becoming Davepeta didn't really cut this off, more like pump new life into it. They feel a new drive to get back into the fight, they gain a family they actually claim as their own through Jasprose and Arquius and they go on and reconcile there.

And to remember that this isn't just a continuation of Davesprite, a lot of this is because of Nepeta and how she was left off:

a desire to and failing to avenge Equius (now she can reconcile through arquius, then continues to fight off Lord English who is part gamzee/part arquius)

getting to know Jaspersprite (why Jasprose brings her back in the first place, and showing off how she's a lot more emotionally mature than people give her credit for, which helps Davesprite be a bit more introspective)

a familiarity with being tossed around or rejected by the story and then saying "fuck that I'm going to do my own thing" (a big part of nepeta is that she is absolutely a character made to round out the numbers and it shows by how she isn't allowed to do to much, which contrast with davesprite and how he is expected to and regularly gives up his own places in the story to fix things or get it going)

So you get this situation where like, yeah, on their own these two characters would've had an interesting dynamic or they had established fans with their own strong and vastly separated ideas of where either of them would go, and they both had issues that they could've had more time to be broken down and restructured in through pages and pages of storytelling,

but at the same time I feel like there's a lot they both gained a lot by becoming davepeta that still pays respect to who they are and continue to be, even if the decision to do so was almost certainly in part to mess with some fans, which in a way is kind of the spirit of homestuck. There's something to be said about characters being allowed to quickly get a new perspective about themselves and be able to decide how they want to proceed from then on, especially when said characters otherwise weren't going to really have a chance to do so otherwise, as is the fate of most ghosts in homestuck/dead characters in most other media.

Like I'm sure in the 7 years of their existence and the 13 years of homestuck, people have already said all that can be said about this, I know I've sene a lot of posts both for and aginst them, but that's sort of just how I see it.

When I say "grr, I hate people who don't like/can't accept davepeta" it's partly in understanding jest but also with a twinge of seriousness based off of how they can be looked at more deeply than just "a failed end to davesprite's arc" or "a quick fix to a dead characters".

and none of this is even getting into their gender, good lord, how people can be weird towards nonbinary characters, or even the idea of a trans character, let alone in homestuck.

I remember @/hemoanarchists having a similar rant(?) at one point about how weird people who hate the sprite^2s can be, and how their complaints seem a bit too close to straight up transphobia, but I'm tailing off and this is already more thought than I'm sure you were looking for, and I can't think of much more to add.

Basically, yes what you're saying makes perfect sense, and I understand why multiple people usually feel the same way (usually including having no real hate towards davepeta or liking them as much as the next person), I just have strong feelings about this character and get apprehensive that there are people who see them as like this evil representation of all the things that ruined homestuck and bastardized their "angsty crow boy" or to an extent their "uwu waifu" or whatever.

Just makes it hard for me to really enjoy works centered around davesprite because unlike with Nepeta who has different versions of herself that just pop in and out of the background (just in the timespan of act 6 we had Fefetasprite, Nepeta and Feferi hanging out as ghosts, all the paradox space ghosts versions of everybody and etc), we actively followed this specific version of dave who became davesprite then found themselves as davepetasprite, and instead of seeing that as a win for them people went "but what about what I want for them".

Like, I get it, but also the way I've seen some people go about it just rubs me the wrong way, that I don't know if I really articulated.

#dashingposts #asks #Anonymous #long post #this is why you don't get me going about davepeta #none of my thoughts are organized but boy howdy do i have many #dashingreplies

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straightfromthetorturedpoetsdept · 1 year

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I accidentally connected dear John to the bttws/wcs universe and I wish I didn't so now I'm going to make it your problem too.

Let's talk about dear John's "you paint me a blue sky then go back and turn it to rain" and why it's so significant to the bttws/wcs universe, especially in the context of paper doll, his response. First, we need to talk about the facts of what we know about this relationship. She had a crush on him, they start dating, he broke up with her and she developed an eating disorder as a result.

Now, let's talk about "if I was some paint, did it matter if you got to wash your hands" as one of the most devastating lines of the song. So, I've always heard the line in dear John as metaphorically "you made me happy then sad," which is how I'm pretty sure meyer took it as well because in paper doll he says "someone's gunna paint you another sky." And so, it's in this context that this line in would've could've should've becomes such a masterfully crafted line.

She is saying that she is the paint in the scenario and this changes the entire context of that line. Like, if Taylor is the paint he is using to make the sky, the meaning of the line becomes much more heartbreaking. She is basically stating that she was the paint, the reason the sky was blue because in her innocence and reverence for John Meyer the singer, she romanticized and idealized his actions even when she should not have. It plays into the guilt and shame she feels in would've, could've, should've, because looking back at it now she's mad she didn't listen to her mother and she's mad she didn't see the obvious signs that it was doomed from the start.

But its also such a POWERFUL line because she is effectively taking back her power by making herself the paint in the scenario, by saying you know what these were my mistakes but you still bare the brunt of the blame because you should've have known BETTER than a 19 year old. She is saying that you washed your hands of me once you were done making the sky but I was *more* than that. I was *more* than just a fucking sky, it's not something "someone else" can just paint her again because once you wash paint away, it's gone forever. Even if you use the same bottle, it's always going to be NEW paint. And that ties in with her "old taylor" theme of reinvention that she plays with all the time. And that's why bigger than the whole sky is so devastating because it's her realizing for the first time how NOT okay she is because of this stupid fucking fling this 32 year old creep had with her.

Like, the depth of just that ONE line is truly mind-boggling because wow, this is why people who say she's not the songwriter of our generation are just ignorant because if you don't know the history then "if I was some paint did it matter if you got to wash your hands," is just a mediocre metaphor BUT ITS NOT.

#bigger than the whole sky is so obviously about john meyer i almost pity the idiots who had the stupid interpretation of it #midnights #taylor swift #would've could've should've #dear john

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lepusrufus · 3 years

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Wrong victim

Pure comedic self indulgence because we all need a funny break before shit starts to really go down in To bargain for immortality. Set quite a few years after the game events, around 2025, and is pure ridiculousness so enjoy.

////

Her response to being unceremoniously shoved in the back seat of a car that looked like it's seen far better days was merely an annoyed grunt. It turned into an eye roll when the man that climbed in after her pulled everything out of her pockets.

"Wouldn't want you calling anyone," he said with a toothy grin while waving her phone in front of her.

"Trust me, that won't be necessary," she replied in a deadpan voice. It's not like she would call the police, she wanted them involved even less than her kidnappers probably did. As for other people she could reach out to, a phone call would be redundant really. "Do be careful with it, I'd hate to lose the photos of Daniela sleeping upside down."

After maybe ten minutes of driving down the barely illuminated outskirts of the city, and having her pockets emptied, dagger included, the burly man driving pulled up inside a parking lot. It was large and overgrown with weeds and vines reclaiming spaces that had been left without human activity for who knows how long. The lamp posts were nothing more than useless concrete pillars as they provided no illumination, resulting in her pitiful captors having to use flashlights as they made their way into the dilapidated factory.

Nicole sneered at the sight of collapsed walls and rusty metal walkways, reminding her of the one particular Lord she couldn't stand the sight of. She decided a distraction was needed from unpleasant memories.

"Abandoned factory?" She whistled. "How many cliche movies have you guys watched?"

She let out a chuckle when the man that had previously taken her phone shoved her ahead. Hopefully they wouldn't tape her mouth shut, there was so much fun to be had by mockery alone.

It didn't take long before all three of them entered a dimly lit room, numerous candles placed all around, either on desks or candle supports nailed to the walls. The three more people inside were wearing long black robes and white masks covering their faces. Nicole had to laugh.

"Oh so you're that kinda crazy."

"Shut the fuck up and stay put," the man holding her hands behind her back said while pushing her into a chair.

He then moved to a table and Nicole couldn't help but scowl at how unceremoniously her beloved dagger had been thrown on the wooden surface. Afterwards, he put on a mask not unlike the others, except with red streaks going down from the eye holes, and started to prepare something in the middle of the room. The others joined in on the task, all but the one man that had been put in charge of making sure Nicole stayed put. Because of course she could easily escape five people much bigger than her at any given moment.

She decided to take a look around, at the various dusty books opened on pages she couldn't quite make out from where she was sitting. A few pages were laying around, either with diagrams or with scribbled notes. Had she really stumbled upon a cult? She couldn't wait to have a laugh about it with her family.

"So," she started, craning her neck a little so she could see her captor's face. "Who you gonna sacrifice me to huh? I wanna know before you slice up my throat or whatever you're planning on."

A confused and suspicious look was thrown her way, surely due to the complete nonchalance she spoke with about what would surely be her untimely death. "The… the devil," was his unsure reply.

Nicole let out a small laugh. "Oh trust me, you do not want to meet her. Though devil is not quite the word," she continued despite a few other pairs of eyes landing on her. "Maybe a pissy fungal overlord with an unhealthy obsession for crows. Yes that's more like it," she finished with another chuckle.

The man with a slightly different mask, who seemed to be their self appointed leader, got up from where he was nailing something to the floor and walked up to her in a few long strides. His eyes were barely visible, but anger was clearly distinguishable.

He pulled out a knife, old, rusty and with a black worn out handle so typical of a kitchen utensil, and so incredibly ugly compared to the beautifully ornate daggers that decorated her home. She had to laugh when the dull blade got pressed to her throat.

"Will you shut up for one minute?!" He raised his voice slightly, as much as someone who was doing something they didn't wish to be caught doing would dare to. It didn't deter her though.

"Oh sweetie this is just what foreplay looks to me," she started with a grin that made her wish she had fangs like the better part of her relatives. "But please do me a favor and stay quiet, there's no fun in hunting if my darling finds you within five seconds due to you screeching like a broken squeaky toy."

The man blinked for a few seconds, taken aback both by the words and by the apparent passivity towards having a knife at her throat. He stayed like that until one person that was working with some ropes behind interjected.

"Of all the people you could've taken, how did you find this unhinged bitch?!"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Nicole said, bending slightly to the side so the person that had spoken up would have a clear view of her sickly sweet smile.

After that exchange, her captors seemed happy to move things along quicker, working in silence and begrudgingly ignoring any remarks she would throw their way, including an observation on the downright dreadful quality of the rope they had. Quality that she regrettably got to experience when her wrist and ankles got tied to the nails in the floor, having her lay down in a starfish position. It kind of reminded her of sprawling on the bed she shared with Cassandra simply to annoy the brunette.

After loudly reciting something in latin, the leader bent down, same rusty knife in hand, and tipped her chin upwards to expose the neck. She did let out a wince when the blade sunk deep in her flesh and got dragged downward, towards her chest, leaving behind a choking sensation and the taste of copper in her mouth. The knife however only made it to the base of her neck, before the sound of metal crashing caught everyone's attention.

"What the fuck," the man whispered, thankfully pulling the blade out so her skin had the time to begin stitching itself back together. She still had to turn her head around and spit some blood that made its way into her mouth.

Before anyone else had a chance to speak up, the door was kicked open, one of the rusty hinges breaking completely, to reveal a rather angry Cassandra with her sickle in hand, ready for bloodshed.

There were a few seconds of stunned silence before the blade was unceremoniously thrown into the first person's skull, spinning through the air for only a few meters before getting embedded into the bone with a sloshing sound. Anyone else trying to escape through the one door was met with a similar fate. One person had their knees kicked inwards before a knife held at the same belt as the sickle came down to slash their throat. Another had their head smashed to bits against the nearest wall in the blink of an eye. And last, the burly man that had driven and kept an eye on Nicole, had his heart ripped through the bottom of his ribcage when Cassandra shoved him against one of the tables, scattering the books and papers that were by then stained crimson.

The remaining man, the leader, got grabbed by the shoulders and forcefully shoved into the same chair she had been sitting in not too long ago.

"Stay put and I'll let you live," Cassandra spoke, all the cruelty polished over decades upon decades of sporting the title of the family's most sadistic coming through those few words.

He gulped and nodded, eyes glossed over by the pure human terror now so unfamiliar to both of them.

She then turned around, expression softening like a switch had been turned behind golden eyes. "Nicole," she started, barely an edge of concern and irritation at the sight of her wife's bloody skin.

"Hi babe." The self satisfied grin almost had the brunette chuckling while she retrieved her sickle and Nicole's things.

The weapon was used to cut her free, a grimace pulling the corners of her black lips downward at the same quality observation her wife had priorly made, no doubt. A hand was offered to Nicole to pull herself up, while the other presented the familiar dagger that was gifted to her so many years ago.

"Will you do the honors love," Cassandra asked, with that beautifully sadistic smile.

"Of course," came Nicole's reply as her hand wrapped around the leather covered handle.

With some of the wretched ropes gathered from the ground, Cassandra made quick work of the man's hands and legs, securely tied to the chair and voice frantic.

"You said you would let me live!"

Cassandra laughed, a low ominous sound, while grabbing the mask and throwing it on the floor. She did love to see the terror in her victims' faces after all.

"Unfortunately my wife made no such promises," she finished with a forceful pull of hair that kept his head in one place as she moved to the back of the chair.

Nicole approached with the dagger already out of its holster and tapped the blade's point against her lips in thought for a few moments. She could simply slice his throat and be done with it, or stab him and leave him to bleed out, choking on his own blood. A hum made its way past her lips. No, no that would not do.

She grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt, pulling it up almost to the neck. After a few mental measurements and approximations were made, the tip of the blade finally found its way into muscle, drawing thin trails of blood and pained screams. It took a good five minutes to carve all the intricate details she wanted to, the swirling patterns cutting cleanly through skin, courtesy of her wife keeping the blade sharp and in top condition.

After she was content with the level of detail, and screams subsided to pathetic sobs, she took a step back and, with a hum, looked at Cassandra for a reaction.

"Oh dearest," the brunette said, looking over the man's shoulder and down at the bloody cuts on his abdomen and chest, forming a crude yet not unfitting replica of the Dimitrescu crest.

At the adoration that made its way past the cruelty in her wife's eyes, Nicole smiled and gingerly took a hold of her unoccupied hand, bringing it close to her lips and leaving a small kiss and a barely visible blood imprint on each knuckle.

"I take it that you approve of my… design choice," she asked with another glance down at the jagged lines that formed their family's symbol.

"It's wonderful," Cassandra replied, fangs shimmering slightly in the low light, exposed from the proud smile that tugged at her lips.

A gorgeous smile, really, that made something swell inside Nicole's chest no matter how many times she saw it. Truth be told, her rendition of the crest was quite lacking, never having had the artistic skills to quite capture the intricate details that formed it. Nevertheless, if it brought a smile to her wife's lips, she was more than content with it. How unfortunate that it had to be ruined.

She let out a sigh, still holding Cassandra's hand. "Too bad those pigs at the BSAA would quite disapprove of us leaving such things behind. Oh well," she shrugged, bringing the hand she was holding over to the man's abdomen. "Better it be ruined at your hands."

The next second, claws dug deep into flesh, slicing the muscle and everything underneath all the way up to the throat. It left five deep gashes over the fine cuts of her dagger, but the satisfaction did not dwindle. On the contrary, when the gurgling sounds finally stopped and the body went limp, her smile was still there, turning into light laughter when Cassandra licked her fingers only to visibly cringe.

"Say what you will about the dungeons, but at least we feed our livestock well," she spat, taking out a napkin from a pocket and wiping her fingers clean. "But with that disgusting thing out of the way, let me help you with that," she continued, grimace morphing into a sly smile when her eyes landed on Nicole's still bloody neck.

She gave her no time to disagree, not that she would, before she pushed her backwards slightly into the edge of a table. Nicole wasted no time in lifting herself up on the wooden surface, bringing their faces just a tad closer to being on the same level.

Cassandra dipped her head down, lips leaving teasing feather-like kisses on her jaw before lowering even further so she could drag her tongue up the length of her neck. It made a shiver run down Nicole's spine, that turned into an impatient tug of her wife's hair when the motion was repeated again and again, until no traces of blood could be seen on her neck, save for the crimson stains that made their way to the hem of her shirt.

Their lips met in a hungry kiss, full of fangs and smeared lipstick and the taste of copper so familiar to the both of them, albeit for different reasons. When Nicole's hands went to the first buttons of Cassandra's blouse, their kiss was broken with a sly smirk.

"This is such a dreadful place for such things, don't you think," the brunette said, all too amused by her wife's exasperated sigh.

"You started it," Nicole complained, but before the words were fully out of her mouth, she was tugged off the table and on the way out, ready to get back home and have a laugh about the irony of her capture. They would have to pick up where they left off at a later time.

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #tw: gore #cassandra being cassantra and comin to save her wifey #don't take this as a clue to how the mutation sequel may turn out #fanfic

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hay-389 · 5 years

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When Hope Is Lost (Blindspot Fanfic)

A Blindspot story I’ve been working on, the rest is on Fanfic.net or Ao3. Link down below for the rest of the story.

CHAPTER ONE: Past Mistakes

If life were a person, Jane had only one question to ask; Why was it out to get her? No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many people she seemed to save, her overall actions and decisions came back to bite her in the ass. She lived in a never-ending circle of lies, and each one existed because of her. Even the ever so painful lie about being Taylor Shaw, that was her fault. The video Oscar showed her proved it. Her old self said, "you did this to yourself," the words were on constant replay in her mind. She's the one who decided to tattoo all her visible and nonvisible skin, hiding secrets within them, she's the one who drowned her entire body with ZIP, leaving no memories of even what her favorite color was, and she's the one who chose Kurt. The giant tattoo with his name on her back said it all. Jane felt betrayed by her past, maybe it was a good thing she couldn't remember. It was a fresh start. Not exactly anymore, but maybe someday it can be. Cause the fresh start she could've had was ruined the moment she accepted those damn missions. The ones that set Mayfair up for murder, and ultimately lead to her death. Jane wished she could say she saw it coming, and maybe in some small way, buried deep in her self conscience she did, but the truth was she was blindsided. She became caught up in wanting to know her past that she didn't see what her future could end up like. Jane was stupid to think that she could keep the team in the dark about Oscar. Her biggest mistake though was letting him threaten her team. She could have done more, should have. There was no way she was going to let her past choices negatively affect the only people who cared about her.

That's why she hunted him down. While she may have set up Mayfair's untimely death, Oscar pulled the trigger. Jane needed to give Mayfair and her team Justice. She would bring Oscar in, and tell them everything that happened. Like usual, life had other plans. Jane got distracted and Oscar tazed her. When she came to, she was tied down to a wooden chair, and Oscar threatened to wipe her memories once more. Everything after that was a bit foggy. Jane couldn't handle that thought, the pure idea of waking up afraid and not knowing anything about who she is again, it made her want to throw up. Jane remembered breaking out of the chair and fighting Oscar, but she doesn't remember when the fire started. Sure she could feel the hot flames feet away on her face and see the bright orange and yellow flashes dancing out of the corners of her eyes, but the bigger threat was Oscar. That's when a cry escaped his lips, confused she looked down. There had been a scythe hanging on the wall, the one Oscar had originally attacked her with, somehow she had impaled him with it. Jane didn't feel bad that she had killed him, maybe her past self would have because after all, they were engaged at one point. She must have seen the good in him at some point for her to want to marry him. If only he showed that side instead of the darker one that lead to his final moment.

After the barn incident, she headed to her safe house, which looking back is kind of ironic as it wasn't actually safe. That's where she found Kurt. The look on his face will forever be burned in her memory and hurt every time she thinks about it. He knew she wasn't Taylor. Then he arrested her. The words would always exist in a corner of her mind. "My father killed Taylor Shaw 25 years ago. Taylor Shaw is dead, now who the hell are you? Jane doe you're under arrest." The words stung in two ways. While Jane may not have known Taylor Shaw, she had a strange sadness that made her heart heavy. A poor girl who only had 5 years of life. The loving family and friends heartbroken by her abrupt disappearance. Then there was the actual arrest. Jane was no longer sad about it, but angry. If he had given her a chance to talk to him maybe she wouldn't be in this mess. She begged Kurt to listen, tried to set everything straight in the car, but once she realized he wouldn't have it she went silent. He booked her and put her in a holding cell, said he would be back tomorrow to interrogate her, but he never returned. Instead a guy Jane didn't recognize escorted her out of the FBI building and into a van. At that moment Jane knew what was happening and there was nothing she could do about it. That's why almost 3 months later she's sitting in a cement cell, waiting for the perfect moment to escape this hellish black cite.

It was sad to say that the only thing she had left anymore was her anger. It fueled her heart and brain not to give up, even when her body protested otherwise. She got used to the pain though, after a couple weeks of nonstop torture she zoned out, found a safe haven and tuned everything else out around her. It disconnected herself from reality, and if she had a choice she would stay disconnected. It's not like she has anything left to stick around for in the real world. The team hates her, Kurt hates her. Of course he does though, "you lied to him," she told herself. "If he actually cared then he wouldn't have handed you over to the CIA. The only reason he kept you around is because he thought you were Taylor."

"No, he had to or cared about me, even a little." She internally argued with herself. That's all she seemed to be doing these days, she was her own company. Jane came out of the shadows of the cell, sitting in front of Jane who was hugging her knees in the farthest corner of the room. Jane smiled, which she quickly stopped because of how much her dry and cracked lips hurt. This is what almost a day and a half of no water and food did to a person, made them hallucinate. The Jane that sat in front of her wasn't her but looked like old her. She had long hair and an evil glow in her eyes. "Then he wouldn't have handed you over. He only cares about Taylor, not you, not Jane. Now that he knows Taylor is dead, your not even a thought to him."

"He kissed me. Invited me to the park. He felt something." Jane replied, taking the bait. Her past self scoffed, "That kiss meant just as nothing as the park, he didn't bother to waste his time going, remember? He told you yourself."

"We never showed up, we can't know that he did or didn't go. Maybe he did." Jane tried to convince herself.

"But you'll never know, will you, because you chose me."A malicious smile spread across Jane's past self at that voice, and in return, she scowled. It seemed she couldn't get away from him in life or death. "Oscar," she said with as much venom in her voice as she could muster. "Kurt never loved you, he loved Taylor. You know that, so why are you fighting it? You knew it was part of the plan, you chose him."

"I'm not that person anymore."

"Of course your the same person, your memory is just stored away at the moment. It's allowing bits and pieces to slip through, but soon enough you'll remember everything, even the hatred you had for your so-called team. You'll regret it."

"I won't regret anything," Jane argued. "Yes, you will. You're going to remember the mission, and that you are the one who screwed it up. That's all you've been doing lately though huh, screwing things up. No wonder you have nobody in your life. You're pathetic. Poison. I'm glad we never got the chance to get married. I can see why Kurt gave you up to the CIA, I would have done the same thing."

"No...no he wouldn't."

"Yes, he would. They are happy to be rid of you."

"No...go. Get out of my head, leave me alone!"

The room went coldly silent. Jane glanced up, Oscar and her past self were nowhere in sight. That hadn't been the first time she's had that conversation with herself or hallucinated for that matter, but Oscar had never been in the conversation. It seems the less food and water she gets, the worse the hallucinations.

As almost on cue, one of the goons that assisted, Jake, as he liked to be called, opened her cell door, gently placing a piece of bread and bottle of water on the floor. "Make sure to drink the water slowly, or else you'll be sick," he told her, before locking her cell door again. Jane ignored the bread and went straight for the water. Although it hurt to put the bottle to her lips, the feeling of the water putting out the desert that resided in her mouth was like heaven. Never again would she take advantage of something so simple as water. Jane took the bread and slumped back into her corner, more picking at it then eating it. Tomorrow was important to Jane, and just thinking about what was to come made her stomach flip. "What if you don't succeed? You're not as tough as you were when they first brought you in?" It's something she asked herself a lot, but in the end she would have to try. Better to go out fighting than to not have tried at all. So, she scooted herself forward until she was in the center of the room. Jane unscrewed the drain pipe-that she had discovered was loose almost a week into her stay-and checked the rope dangling off the bottom to make sure it was steady and didn't need to to be woven anymore. Satisfied, she screwed it back in. Jane smiled, mostly for the freedom she was about to grant herself, but also because Keaton had no idea of the plan that was about to unfold right under his nose. He claimed to be such a great CIA agent, could detect everything. Of course Jane knew he was lying, or else he would have found out the information he needed from her already. He was definitely cocky, and Jane hated him for it. But she hated him in general, wanted to make him suffer as badly as he made her, but the look on his face tomorrow when he realizes she outsmarted him will be enough. For now though, Jane went back to her safe haven. She found it to be underneath a tree that sat a couple feet away from a cliff, which had the perfect view of a random town her brain had conceived. As she rested her head against the tree, she found it funny. This place felt like more, as if it were real, or somehow she had actually been here before. It was peaceful, it felt like home.

#blindspot fanfic #season 2 #blindspot

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