#i never tried to “correct” my behaviour in order to make people like me

[uraandri]

sometimes i think about the first moment i became aware that even people who liked me found me odd. i remember my friend asking me what i was constantly reading on my brand new smartphone and when i showed her i finally made it to the end of a mycity military thread on english longbows she just made a what the fuck face and i had to go sit alone for a while

[furiousgoldfish]

There was a time, when as a young adult, I'd be reading self-help books, in order to see if I can do something to make my life livable. Sometimes, these books would go very deep into victim blaming, and making a person believe that they can just 'manifest anything', or 'make things happen', and later I trashed all of that nonsense, but as an inexperienced person, I was all up for magical thinking, and taking advice from people who enjoyed making everything a vague concept that one can control with their mind.

Some of these books indeed, touched on parenting, and their philosophy was that parents who are bad, are simply bad because their parents were bad, which is something they love to use as their favourite excuse (i had it worse). But as a young person, how was I to know this was stupid, I believed this. The book went on to encourage the child, to try and be the parent's replacement parent, and to offer them caretaking and parenting they never had in their youth. Now, if you know how child abuse works, you'd recognize this immediately as the encouragement of parentification, making the child responsible for the parent's well being, being the caretaker instead of being taken care of, taking responsibility for the parent's actions and behaviours when the child has absolutely no control or power over it - basically bad. But, how was I to know, right. So I decided to try and take this advice, and try to see; what are my parents lacking, in the form of having their own parents?

This is where things got funny; I analyzed my parents behaviour, and realized very quickly, that what they lack is moral compass, correction of intensely selfish, irresponsible, ignorant and shallow behaviour, and if these were my children I would simply not tolerate that level of malice. My parents weren't lacking in care, they were lacking in discipline. So at that point, I, who had no income, shelter, social power, access to resources, finances, or anything else, thought I was responsible for disciplining my parents and teaching them how to 'not be evil', if I wanted to change them in normal and good people. (Completely normal and possible thing to do.)

And it's not like I had any guidance in how to offer proper 'discipline', all I knew was violence, which I couldn't do for obvious reasons, and the next thing would be scolding, yelling, guilt-tripping, criticism, making them 'feel bad' for 'doing bad things'. And that's exactly what I had decided to do. Next time my father was acting selfish, malicious, shallow and self-obsessed, I dropped him a 'This is why you don't have any friends.' line.

Now I have no idea why, but this actually got to him. He was shocked for a moment, and then started acting defensive. 'I have friends!' he insisted, and then he started listing all of the coworkers he used for his gain in the last week. 'Those are not real friends.' I decided. That had actually gotten him upset. He started listing all the things he did with those people, which were just random work transactions, and it didn't convince me at all.

Looking back, it's funny because I was so low on his hierarchy of people whose opinion mattered, he tried to kill me multiple times, he screamed inhumane slurs and insults at me constantly, he considered me less than a person, less than a thing even, but he was still so offended that anyone in the world could think he had no friends. What I had done is made him worried that his facade and public image of being well-connected and liked wasn't strong enough, and convincing me that he was all those things, was how he thought he'd fix it. He didn't even think for a second that maybe he should fix his malicious and exploitative behaviour, it was all about maintaining an image of being something else.

Obviously he didn't have any friends, because he's a narcissist, and narcissists don't make friends, they keep prisoners. I was a constant thorn in his eye because I could see trough his delusions and would regularly call him out on that, which of course then brought on violence to make me terrified of contradicting him. Because that's how they think reality is generated, if they say something is true, and nobody contradicts them, then that must be the new reality.

Anyway, I didn't try to argue with him on friends again, because it got boring and did nothing to fix his inhumane behaviour, and I didn't like interacting with him anyway. But I still find it very funny that a book that was trying to push abused children into caretaking for their parents, pushed me into trying to punish them for abuse, it was almost Matilda-like in fashion. If I had magic powers I would have changed these people (into people too scared to be evil in front of me).

[velvet-vox]

V and Doll; trauma, mental disorder, and low empathy.

(Warning: this post is slightly outdated and contains some incorrect medical terms that don't correspond to the modern classification of ASPD. You can still read it if you are curious, but don't take anything stated here as hard facts. They are not.)

Very recently on my notifications I received a reblog by @aroaceweirdos101 to a response I've made to a post talking about how Doll went through so much more pain than V, and it made me realise that the response in question was actually, like, really good.

I had genuinely forgotten and underestimated how good of an analysis of both V, Doll, mental health and societal stigma it really was.

Now, of course, I disagree with the sentiment that Doll suffered more than V and fully believe that out of the two V endured way more pain and trauma than Doll; yet, although the responses in the comments checked out with what I previously said, they felt... meaner?

Like, the answers went to the opposite extreme of the original comment and tried to downplay Doll's trauma in comparison to V's, almost implying that Doll was a b##ch (which she was) for snapping as hard as she did when V still managed to retain a sense of restraint; and I disagreed with that, so in response I wrote this:

*Look, I believe both Doll and V are interesting characters, and although I feel more sympathetic towards Doll, I definitely believe V went through so much more pain than Doll and had way more reasons to snap and be the way she is now, but I just really hate people who use that as an excuse to label Doll has the more evil of the two or "she was always just a psycho, she just needed an excuse to snap"; it's especially disheartening when people straight up interpret her as unreademable or pure evil, when V and N's body count is 10 times higher than Doll's.

Also, I'm sorry but I really can't stomach the possibility of Liam redeeming the genocidal war machine and not the broken orphan created by said psycho, it literally would be the fictional pinnacle of "since these are the protagonists, they can get away with as much as they want and are always in the right"; I'm fine with the way Doll died because it was done by Cyn and there wasn't any moral lesson to be gained from our protagonists about it, but if it was done by N, Uzi, or worst of all V again, it should have played out like "we have reasons to do the things we do, and you have yours, unfortunately we're on opposite sides and you are hurting us so we must kill you now".

The human (worker drone) mind is extremely fragile, and some people, due to a probably inherited and undiagnosed mental illness or a particular personality type, are more at risk of snapping then other people, yet instead of being understanding towards those who are born with more issues than others (especially women, look up Azula or Ashley Graves) we tend to isolate, demonize and then kill them because they were incapable of fitting into the larger societal standard of acceptable social behaviour, even when said society never did anything to help them meet its unreachable standards because it required too much work from society's side to give you the special attention you needed in order to make you work and fit in.

V was a quiet kid because she was shy, Doll was a quiet kid because she was introverted. Those are two very different types of people and one of them (Doll) was inherently more at risk of developing mental health issues than the other due to their personality type and how it's stigmatized.*

Here's also the original post made by an anonymous user on @md-confessions

Also, here's the link to another post still talking about V and Doll. I made two comments in response, but neither of them is particularly well thought out and since you can't correct them I left them as they were.

Now, back to the highlighted part:

I want to use this response as a springboard to talk about the main differences between Doll and V when it comes to their different handling of their decaying mental health and why it's unfair to say that one of them was worse than the other based on their actions and attitude towards the problem.

(Also, all of the Murder Drones characters are extremely complex, and the fact that the show doesn't have filler makes it harder to get a good grip on one's particular mindset, so if it seems like I'm talking more about Doll than I am about V, it is because V is the most complicated character in the cast and I'm not as confident to talk about her as I am with Doll; it took one entire year to finally understand Doll as well as I do now, so V is a touchy subject for me that's why I might not do her justice).

First of all, it has to be said: Doll is a sociopath, V isn't, despite appearing like one. And that's ok.

When I say that I feel more sympathy towards Doll than I do for V, this is what I mean: I don't sympathise with Doll heartlessness more than I do with V jackassery; rather I understand and relate with Doll's low empathy since I also have low empathy as well, and it is quite common for people like us to be misunderstood for uncaring individuals.

It's the same reason why I and many others tend to like villains and sympathise with them more than we do with the heroes (Lord Shen from Kung Fu Panda 2 is the perfect example for this); it's quite common for villains to be written as individuals with low empathy, as an highly empathetic individual tends to be harder for the audience to buy as an antagonist, since you need to justify why someone this caring is committing all this heinous and terrible stuff, but if that person is already unemphatetic by nature, than it's just a matter of establishing their goals and motivations. These people also tend to be ostracized by their environment and go through a gruesome and violent death because it's socially acceptable to let these despicable individuals find comeuppance through death since they lack the traits that make a person traditionally good.

So, when people use the "So what? She's got dead parents. Many others do, including Uzi, who's also infected with the Absolute Solver, yet they have not become cannibalistic serial killers obsessed with revenge" as a slight against Doll it's not entirely fair because from what we've gathered in the show the other worker drones don't suffer from sadistic impulses and sociopathy like Doll does, even if they (Rebecca) are pretty uncaring. (Side note, Uzi also suffers from sadism/sadistic impulses, but not from sociopathy, hence the main difference between the two).

V, on the other hand, despite what her introduction and psycho girl persona might trick you into believing, was never a sociopath nor did she struggle with low empathy, she was, instead, a pretty timid maid who suffered through unspeakable physical and psychological trauma that led her to adopt this fake identity to cope for the atrocities that she was now committing for the company (Absolute Solver) and the safety of N; V cared about N in a pretty normal person kind of way: she kept N at arms length and hid the truth from him so that he wouldn't get hurt, all while detaching herself from the actions she was now committing, not saying Doll wouldn't or didn't commit any of these actions, but V did them in a way that better aligns with someone who doesn't suffer from sociopathic disorder.

Speaking of N, since he has been mentioned, I'll say that while Uzi suffers from sadism but not low empathy (she has shown to be pretty empathetic many times), N doesn't suffer from sadism but from low empathy; as better explained by a section of this post made by @melissa-titanium :

N x Doll

Don't believe me? Then maybe you should rewatch the series again because N's unemphateticness is his own can of worms to delve into.

But back to Doll, it's time to dissolve (😏) one of the oldest misconceptions surrounding her character:

Doll reached out for help. A lot. She just didn't have any luck with it.

Call me crazy, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised that the fandom wide spread belief that Doll rejected all the help that was handed to her to be a massive lie, and in fact, Doll actually tried to reach out way more than you thought, arguably, even more than Uzi:

The impact that Yeva's education has had on Doll's life can only be noticed in this way: Yeva extended her hand to Nori and she accepted it, thus, it is fair to assume that Yeva taught Doll to be pretty open to others and to give a hand to someone in need (the show was rewritten after the pilot, so ignore the incongruences with Doll's initial characterization), and in fact, after enduring the trauma of watching her parents die, she opened up to Lizzie for help and support, unfortunately, Lizzie wasn't exactly the right person to talk about these things (no offence to her, all of Uzi's classmates suck for one reason or another, including Uzi herself, I guess that's what happens when you are stuck inside a bunker your whole life), after all, Doll was still killing and cannibalising her classmates.

Then, before she went back to gain her revenge, she tried to get Uzi on her side, which wasn't an attempt to open up, but she was still willing to connect, even if for the wrong reasons. Finally, once she discovers that Uzi also has the Absolute Solver, she promises to help her out, and at this point, Doll wishes to talk it out with Uzi, but because she is surrounded by the Disassembly Drones (V), she can't.

And now, for the most interesting discussion, there's this brief and frankly weird moment in episode 5 where Doll compliments Khan for raising Uzi, and while Khan laughs it off immediately, since he is a dumbass, this could have been a perfect opportunity for him to reach out to Doll and reason with her, since she's clearly putting aside whatever her objective actually is to talk to him, but he doesn't catch on, and this leads Doll to immediately closing herself off again and returning to the mission, and like, maybe we all kind of underestimated how much significance this moment carried, but consider this:

Doll, at this point in time, has been living out in the cold for what... a month? Six months? A YEAR? If we exclude J and Cyn from the equation, this is probably the only social interaction she ever had since The Promening, yet, because of Khan's lack of touch, she immediately reminds herself of the massive disconnection between her and the other workers (eh ehm sociopath) and thus storms off rapidly; this moment is actually quite painful when you look at it from this perspective, yet it's also, the only interpretation that makes sense? Otherwise how do you explain the existence of this moment when Murder Drones is a show infamous for his high plotting and lack of filler? They had to go out of their way to animate this, so why did they play it off in this way?

Tessa is a meanie

Penultimately, and again, I want to bring up a post by @capnsaltsquid since that's where I got the inspiration to write this paragraph off, Doll opened up to J and Tessa to get the answers she was seeking, yet not only Tessa shot her in the face for s###s and giggles, but then proceeded to fraternise with her parents murderers, and at this point, she closes herself off enough to realise that she might have to unintentionally kill Uzi and leave everyone in the dust if she wants to get anything at all.

But unfortunately, that is not the case, she dies of a lonely, meaningless, gruesome death, and at this point, she still tries and finally succeeds in reaching out to Uzi, and yet, like all of her previous tries, this is unsuccessful, as Uzi has other things in mind right now.

To wrap things up nicely, both V and Doll went through severe amounts of trauma and handled said trauma in a similar yet also different way, since they are different individuals who process emotions and love differently, thus the actions they took made sense for the person they were and should only be judged in the context of their writing and characterization.

Want more?

[cadet-aviator]

A Masterpiece of Confusion

When I got back, I didn’t really know what to do.

I was stumped. I had to wait till my Dad got back, to sort this out – to sort my feelings out. 

I had breakfast. I went to school. I went to drill. I washed and ironed my uniforms. I got a few extra demerits at school, a few hundred lines to write, and I was happy to just sit down and do that and not think about anything.

Looking back, now, it’s easy to question the behaviour of His Excellency the Admiral. What was he thinking, interfering in the private life of a schoolboy and his father? Why did he feel he could confront me – the obedient cadet – with a half-baked analysis of my ‘true’ psychological make-up? Wasn’t this just a way to recruit a confused 15-year old, perhaps as a showcase for his precious Academy, ‘See? Even European kids are attracted to our country’s well-organised and disciplined way of life…’

But at the time, in that place, people like the Admiral had near god-like status (I mentioned he was a relative of the royal family, and to the Malayans, he really was kind of super-human). Nobody would object to this kind of intervention; in fact, people were quite jealous of my ‘preferential treatment’, and my friends at school wondered why I had been singled out and wanted to know everything about this ‘wonderful’ development. Applying to the Military Academy there was very difficult, and there were thousands of eager cadets who wanted to get in. So why would I get a free pass?

When my Dad got back, I told him the whole thing. It turned out he had already had a message from the Admiral’s office, in which my going to camp in the summer was already a done deal – all he had to do was give his consent. The Admiral had also – very sweetly, it seemed – offered to help out if due to my Dad’s busy work schedule ‘the cadet’ (me) required supervision, or a place to stay.

Now my Dad was confused – and annoyed. Sure, he had put me in that school with the mandatory cadet program, and yes, he had consented to me going to Elite Camp, but this was going a lot further than just a schoolboy’s hobby.

He was already not pleased with the 240-hour disciplinary measures, nor with the arrival of military personnel inspecting his son’s bedroom. So his first impulse was to say ‘I’m not having this, you’re not in their bloody army, I’m putting a stop to it.’

‘But Dad…’

He also saw me, however, close to tears, in my perfect uniform, just back from having my haircut.

This son with his excellent grades, who was so diligent and helpful around the house, never complaining about his Dad’s absence, or his mother’s ‘illness’, who had found a meaningful life of his own in this new country, who was busy, who had made friends – even though they kept showing up in uniform… 

So his main question in our big talk was: ‘Do you really want this, son?’

I confess that I cried a lot, then, it was all too much. I felt that the Admiral had seen me for what I really was, and I tried to explain to Dad that I was perhaps different to what he thought of me, or wanted of me, without saying that he had neglected me – because I really didn’t feel that.

‘I think I am really like that, Dad, I just feel so calm and… real, when I’m doing those things.’

‘Real?’

‘Well it’s like when I’m doing these punishments, like doing the dishes for two hours and then doing the ironing for half the platoon, all those things, I feel really useful, and I feel … peaceful.’

‘But these people are not just punishing you for a few errors, they’re using you…’

‘Yes Dad, I know, and sometimes I find it annoying when the Disciplinary Officer comes in and finds something wrong with the work, even though I tried hard, but I think the punisments are…’

‘What, son?’

‘I think I deserve them, Dad, surely they must be right, or they wouldn’t correct me, right? They told me to do something and I was distracted and I didn’t pay enough attention, or my mind wandered, and it’s not just against the orders, or that I was found out – I feel bad about that myself. Really bad, Dad.’

[I cried a bit, here. Dad didn’t get it]

‘What, you want to be punished? You want to work for hours for that bunch of soldiers?’

[This was the hardest question, perhaps. Nobody wants to be punished. I didn’t want to be punished. I wanted to be perfect – and that’s why I felt the punishments so deeply, not as anger, but as disappointment in the people I admired.]

‘I just want to be good, Dad.’

‘But you are a good boy, you’re a wonderful boy, you don’t need all that.’

‘Yeah but Dad, I can be better. The Admiral also said so, he wants to help me with that…’

‘With what?’

‘With being a better cadet, or a better person, or a better … son, I don’t know – I just don’t want to feel bad when I disappoint everybody…’

‘You don’t disappoint me, never.’

‘But I disappoint myself, Dad.’

‘Right. So. You want to be in uniform, all the time.’

‘Yes Dad.’

‘And you want to do what the Admiral wants?’

‘I guess so, Dad, but not if you don’t want me to, Dad’

‘Fine. Or not, I’m not sure’.

Dad, being a Dad, thought about all this for a while. He could see my confusion and my distress. But he had another problem too – I only realised much later what that was: as a diplomat, he was the intermediairy for a potential deal, a very large one, between the two countries, I believe it involved building submarines, or something. So stepping on the toes of the No.1 officer in the Malaysian navy was not a bright idea. He was clear that he would not use me as a kind of bonus, sweeting any deal – but it did bother him.

‘Very well, son. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll get in touch with the Admiral’s office and straighten this thing out – the camp, this idea of you staying with him as a boarder or something, even this notion of you going to Military Academy. If you still want to spend the summer in the jungle instead of going somewhere with me, then so be it. I won’t stop you.’

‘Thanks Dad’

‘But! We’re going to spend some time together, first. I’ve been away too long, I can see that. So cancel your plans for the weekend, I’ll take you on a trip. How about Bangkok?’

‘Alright Dad, if you say so, Dad’

‘I say so.’

‘I’ll be great Dad.’

‘One rule: you’ll be out of uniform, for the duration. No shoulder lapels. No standing to attention, alright?’

‘But Dad, that’s impossible, I mean, I’m under disciplinary correction, if someone sees me out of uniform, there will be trouble, and…’

‘I mean it.’

‘I can’t, what if someone sees me, and there'll be more demerits...’

‘You will do what I tell you, for a change'

We compromised: I was going to wear ‘just’ my school uniform, shirt and tie, grey pants, normal shoes. And I was going to bring swimwear. There was going to be a beach, the sea, father and son stuff.

It had to happen too, I guessed.

(All images are AI-generated)

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Hi!Can i say something?

I feel like you really want to come back to write for Twilight but you remember the old days and feel stressed because people stressed you a bit lets be honest.

However the blog is yours,i remember how bad you felt whenever you didnt post smh,i also have a blog and i post when i want because anyone can tell me when i should finish writing smh!The writer is me not them!!

Anyways love🫶🏼🫶🏼

You can say anything!

I'm definitely conflicted. Twilight was something very dear to me. The community helped me through a tough time multiple times. The support the majority of the community give me even now is wonderful.

People absolutely stressed me. I've always said one thing. I never wanted a big blog. I got anxious at approaching 2000 the first time and I always tried to bend over backwards to be nice and polite and understanding. Understanding, at least!

The situations and snarky comments some people made have pretty much set that ship sailing. I can't talk myself into tolerating bad behaviour because X,Y and Z. I don't have it in me anymore. I made this blog to have fun and a good giggles and some people just make it personal and too far.

I do have my concerns that coming back to twilight opens myself up to those people and to future accusations over...who the fuck knows anymore lmao. It feels silly to be surprised after so many times.

That guilt you talk about is very much there sometimes. I hate that I have all these requests to work on. I hate that I'm not consistently getting out content anymore but I can't deny that I'm not in the same headspace or situation. I've been working hard to fix my mental health. To heal from a lot of things in my past. To get my life back in order and start enjoying it. I don't feel like I'm the same person I was when I started this blog and I'm trying to tell myself that's okay.

Your kind words mean a lot to me. I feel better knowing someone out there understands. You're very correct. People stress me out a lot, and I'm working hard to manage that stress. So I thank you for sending me this. Its very comforting. Especially after the day I've had. 😂

-and I promise everyone I am working on content as much as I can.- ❤️

[charles-and-camilla-fanfictions]

All the Time in the World - Chapter 2

Birkhall, January 2020

Pacing down the corridor to get to him, I make no attempt to plan what I’m going to say. The years spent together have taught me that listening to him is the best tonic to his rage and numbs some of his pain. I am usually the person who calms him down, who makes him see the grey in the problem, who pushes him for greater cohesion in the family, but the entitlement of his youngest son, to the detriment of all his loved ones, rankles. With Harry, it’s difficult to sympathise with the lost little boy inside of him when he’s a fully grown man throwing stones at the people in his privileged life. 

Charles’s anger is cold and resentful by the time I reach him but he smiles as I walk in, like always, and greets me with a kiss before launching into a tirade.

“Financially independent? The last phone call I had with Harry was him begging for money.”

“Did you give it to him?” “I’m not a bank!”

“I thought he wanted to be able to support himself like a grown man, rather than relying on his Papa for handouts?”

“Handouts? It’s millions of pounds. ‘We need security. Megan isn’t safe’…” Taking a breath, I swallow my anger and try to rationalise his son’s behaviour. “This isn’t about money. It’s about Megan. He wants her to be the star. All eyes on her, all attention on her. It’s like he’s projecting his mother upon her.”

“He feels like everyone is conspiring against her.”

“He hasn’t exactly helped her…”

“It’s not even true!” 

The words are shouted and his sudden outburst startles me. I can see his cheeks colouring red, matching the tip of his nose. 

“If he wants to know what real conspiratorial aggression from the firm and the press is like, he should perhaps reflect on what it was like for you!”

“I know…” It’s too close to a nerve that has been exposed for far too long. I watch the vein on his forehead pulsing with the strain of controlling his temper and take his hand into mine. Anything that insults me sends him flying into a hot rage but he is all talk and no action. He takes Harry’s assertion that Megan deserves to be protected from the press as a personal affront because it scratches at his guilt for never really protecting me. To Harry, the world is the enemy which he must fight to avenge his wife. Like his father, he has that same fixation on the negative, that feeling that everyone is out to get him, is against him, coupled with a burning desire to protect the woman he loves. The difference between him and his father is the delivery instrument of change. Harry wishes to blow the world order to pieces and start again. Every slight he encounters must be avenged and every person who stands in his way must be toppled. There’s no middle ground. We either support him or oppose him and any criticism is received like we are throwing knives. He and Megan have created their polarising position but wish for annihilation of the opposing side rather than acceptance. War, not peace. I bow my head to kiss the white tips of Charles’s knuckles and smile as his finger flicks up to stroke my cheek. “We don’t wage all out war in the press. You’ve tried that. You can’t win.”

“She doesn’t understand her role as his wife. She’s meant to be the supportive role, not the lead.”

“She’s a modern woman… Her expectations are very different. Harry’s are too.”

“Then don’t marry a Prince. You can’t change the institution to suit yourself.”

“We did…”

“Not like this, we didn’t.”

“No…” I know my role as a wife. I know we’re not equal in status but we are a partnership. It’s my job to let him shine. One of the most surprising moments in our marriage was when I realised that he wanted me to shine too. Harry is so like his father, desperate to show the world the woman he loves, needing the world to love her too. But there’s no temperance. Where Charles agonises over every decision, determined to make the best one, Harry assumes his feelings are the only correct viewpoint and attacks whomever varies from that perspective. That, he learnt from his mother. I sigh, pulling away from the loop of my thoughts. “I am worried for Harry, though. This has manipulation wrapped all around it. He’s determined to subjugate himself to the stronger woman in his life. It’s never been any different.”

“It’s the hypocrisy which bites…”

“Yes…”

“...nothing is ever good enough for him…”

“No…”

“...the unfairness of the entire situation is infuriating…”

“I know, Darling…” I catch his eyes and tell him I understand. How can I not? I know what it is like to be a social ​​pariah, an actual persona non grata in his family’s eyes, and universally hated. There’s no debate about my treatment by the world, but we worked very slowly, very carefully to bring me to social acceptance. We have fought our own path, but we crafted our image carefully, knowing time was on our side. It might have been unfair, but that’s life. Change has never had a reputation for being quick.

“I’m never going to see my grandchild…”

That makes my heart pang. His tone may be self pitying but this is different. I feel the pain in his words. “Oh, Darling, I’m sure it won’t come to that.”

“Of course it will. He’s going to use his child as emotional leverage. He learnt from the best.”

There’s nothing I can say to that. I just stroke his hand and try to convey as much love as possible into those sad grey eyes. 

Harry saw marriage as the cure to the consuming loneliness this life entails. He’s seen our happiness and both resented it and wanted to emulate it simultaneously. However, by the time Charles married me, he was ready to heal, to put the past behind him. I don’t truly understand Harry’s agenda, acting out his personal pain on the international stage. I think it’s just destruction. A child acting out in pain.

“It’s just so sad…”

“Yes… Yes, Darling it is.”

“I’m so sad for him, and I’m so sad for me.”

“I know.”

He sighs and rests his head on my shoulder, my cue to wrap my arms around him, to pull him tightly against me as if I can protect him from everything that hurts him through the ferocity of my love for him.

1990, Middlewick House

“She won’t let me come.” 

My stomach sinks into a pit at the sound of his voice. He is so unsure of himself. I uncoil the telephone wire from around my finger and reach for my cigarette. “Darling, he is your son. You don’t need her permission.”

“She’ll cause a scene.”

“He’s your little boy and he needs you. Go.”

“Darling, don’t… I’m just going to make everything worse. I’m dreadful in situations like these.”

“Who are you making it worse for?”

“Diana?”

“Why do you care?” I take a deep inhale of my cigarette and listen to him spluttering to try to rationalise his declaration. “Listen… If it were my son, if it were Tom, I wouldn’t even think about it, I would be there.”

“But you’re his mother. That’s different.”

“And you’re his father. So stop arguing with me and just bloody go.” I hate it when he does this. He’s not a child and Diana’s his wife, not his mother. Nobody should be in charge of what he’s allowed to do in regards to his own children. Incessant, she pulls on any thread she can to anger him and hurt him but he still defends her. The problems with his wife are exacerbated by the way he backs away from her attacks of rage, giving her her own way, letting her control him. Nothing is ever enough for her because she demands that he worships her and he doesn’t have the capacity to pretend. 

“I’ll just ring the consultant and check that he is alright. It’ll be better that way.”

“William will not forgive you for not being there. You know that. You know better than this.” Charles never stands his ground with Diana. He screams at her and says the most awful things but when it comes down to it, he has no bite.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“You rang me.”

“Yes, but not to be dictated to.”

“Well bloody well hang up, then.”

“Don’t be like this.”

“Well don’t act so bloody stupid.”

“My mother said to leave it to Diana.”

“Your mother has no maternal instincts in her entire being. Ring your Grandmother, perhaps she’ll say something less idiotic.” I also loath Diana’s martyrdom of motherhood, her insistence that only she can love her sons, that Charles is a terrible father. Smothering her children and then blaming their father for everything wrong, manipulating them, telling them they’re not allowed to hug him, not allowed to kiss him, only her; it shouldn’t be celebrated and I want to punch him when he starts claiming what a wonderful mother she is.

“She’s going to start an argument and scream at me in front of William and in front of everyone.”

“Darling, just go. No announcement. No more calls to her. No arguments. Go. Sweep into the room. Talk to your son. Ignore her. If she starts anything, leave. But then you’ve been and he’ll know you care about him.”

“Of course I care about him!”

“But he needs to know that. He’s only a little boy. Love to him is being there for him.”

“I wish you were coming with me.”

“Darling, if I could, I would. I’d walk you all the way to his room and then push you inside to be his Papa.”

“Thank you, Darling.”

“I love you.”

“Talk later.”

“Later, Darling.”

“Are you sure…”

“Positive. Go…”

“How was he?”

“Well, considering he has a deep gash across the top of his head and concussion, not too bad… Who knew golf clubs could be so destructive in the hands of another child?”

“It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, of course. Not that you’d think that, the way Diana was going on about it…”

“Did you manage to stay for long?”

“No.”

“Oh, Darling, are you okay?” I inhale deeply, feeling the rush of nicotine swill through me, calming me.

“I don’t think he wanted me to be there.”

“Of course he did. You’re projecting your own fears onto him.”

“No. He didn’t want me there because Diana made it very obvious she didn’t want me there. Harry was clinging to her like a limpet, a scared little boy, whimpering. William just looked embarrassed. ‘It’s alright, Papa, I’m fine. You can go to work.’ I can’t do anything now. She’s there sitting almost on top of him. She won’t let me anywhere near him.”

I loathe the woman with all my heart but even so I can’t imagine ever hating her so much, I feel that it’s justified to damage my own children in order to hurt her or win a cheap score over her. My heart aches for him. “It’s okay. You’ve been to see him. He’ll remember that. He needed you and you were there.”

“It’s all such a bloody mess.”

“It really is…”

“Yes it is. Yes it is. Why aren’t you here with me? I need you.”

“I believe you have plans I’m not invited to.”

“It’s just beastly not having you here. I’ve got this God-awful opera to go to.”

“I think it’ll be good for you. Take your mind off everything.”

“I don’t want my mind taken off it. I want to be with my son. Or, at the very least, available in case something happens.”

“You have a mobile phone. Take that.”

“I’m not going to enjoy it, sitting there, worrying about him, trying to be jolly with the people I’m with. With you I don’t have to be jolly. Oh Darling, I want to be with you. And I know that if I do go, everyone is going to be saying what a dreadful parent I am.”

“Darling, it’s not a social event, it’s business. Let the papers say what they want. Go if you feel up for it. No one will blame you if you don’t.”

“They’ll be disappointed.”

“Yes… But that’s not really your problem.”

“But it is though…”

“If you feel you should go, then go. Take your mobile phone and then you can keep in touch with Great Ormond Street. If you think you’re too upset, then don’t go.”

“Do you think I should go?”

“Honestly, I think going to the opera is going to stop you worrying for an hour or so.”

“I want you.”

“You always want me.”

“No, I need you. Please come up to London.”

“And do what?”

“Well by the time you get here, climb straight into bed and read a book or something until I get back.”

“So you want me to drive how many hours to London to bed me?”

“No, I want you to drive to London so I can fall asleep in your arms and so tomorrow morning, when I wake up, I will have you with me. I need you, Darling, please come.”

“I’ve got the most awful backache…”

“...Oh, Darling, I’m sorry. If you’re not feeling up for it…”

“Let me finish… but, if you promise to get your staff to run me a hot bath and supply me with a hot water bottle when I arrive, I will gladly spend the night wrapped up with you. And a glass of wine! I think we both need a good Burgundy.”

“I’ll ensure that there’s wine and a hot bath…”

“And a hot water bottle…”

“I’ll be your hot water bottle.” 

“I’m your support blanket.”

“Sounds about right. Darling, I can’t wait to see you. Thank you. I love you so much. Everything is so much more manageable when you are here.”

1970, London

Leaning across the table, I reach for his drink and take a sip. He stares at me in disbelief, as though no one has ever had the cheek to do this before and then his eyes slip back to his ongoing battle with himself. I can see the effort required to look at my face rather than my cleavage and it makes me laugh. We’ve spent the majority of the time tonight on the dance floor, elbowing for space and letting him twirl me about. I’m not sure I can say we were coordinated but he was certainly enthusiastic and the complete opposite of what I had expected him to be like. His hands felt good on my waist. His face beaming down at mine was just that little too close.

“Miss Gladys?”

I return from my thoughts and smile at him. “My name is Gladys Clutt.”

“There is no cure…” His mimicry makes me giggle and he looks very pleased with himself. “Spelt with a Masculine G as in Gee Whizz…” How can he quote every line from that show?

“Call me Milla.”

“Milla…” He tests out the name and I can feel his voice reaching inside me. “You’re too far away. I can’t hear you properly.”

I smile, standing up, and hold my hand out to him. The room is darker than before and the music louder. As he takes my hand, I turn and walk into the melé of dancing, the contact with his hand both reassuring and exciting. It’s the time of night where the music slows but so does the world as he reaches his arm around my waist and pulls my back against his chest. I can feel his breath against my neck.

“Here is fine.”

It takes a few breaths to reply, savouring the feel of being wrapped in his arms, controlling the rush it sends through me. “I barely know you.”

“Do you want me to let you go?” He releases me but I don’t move and his hands rest against my hips gently as I allow myself to lean back against him. We sway slightly to the music and I ignore the way my heart is banging against my chest. I want him to kiss my neck. I stretch my head back to give him access but although I feel the tip of his nose brush against my skin, he whispers in my ear instead and I’m left feeling both relieved and slightly disappointed. At some point, he turns me around to face him and then we’re both suddenly far too close. One hand pushes into the small of my back so I’m pressing against him and although I arch my back to try to keep some distance, each time we laugh and joke, I find myself edging closer to him. When the lights flood on at the end of the night, we’re still dancing together and I don’t want to pull apart, wishing the time would stop marching away with itself.

We laugh all the way back to my flat and I fling the door wide open and drag him inside with me by the hand. I see him eyeing the decor. Or my version of decor, which is to drop everything on the floor and fight my way through. I do that with my coat now and notice him removing his, folding it and looking for a clear space to put it. Or perhaps a clean space to put it. My poor, suffering flatmate has actually partially tidied up but I still see that the mess shocks him. That makes me giggle.

“I think you need to sack the maid.”

“I consider myself in too high esteem to fire me.”

“Well you require a cleaner, at the very least. Then you won’t get sick.”

“It’s not that bad!” His face tells me otherwise but I ignore him, opening the lid of the record player. “What do you like to dance to?”

“Anything.”

“Helpful.” I flick through my records and laugh as I pull out ‘Je T'aime...Moi Non Plus’.

“What are you laughing about?”

“You’ll see…” I carefully place the needle on the record and turn to face him, resuming the position we have spent all night in, back in his arms. Looking up at his face, I smile as he recognises the track.

“Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“No. I’m not trying.”

“So you are flirting with me?”

“Evidently.”

He nods, looking pleased and I smile up at him, watching his ears turn pink as we listen to the words of the song. 

“I’ve no idea what they’re saying.”

“I’ll translate it to you.”

“I speak French.”

“Je parle mieux Français que toi.”

“You see, I’m watching your lips move and I’m hearing no words.”

“Oh, my love… Like the undecided wave… I’m going, I’m going and I’m coming… Inside you.”

He makes a strange sort of gasp and I see the tips of his ears turn pink. His hands clasp onto me tighter and his eyes are looking at me intensely.

“Entre mes reins… Et je me retiens.” I whisper the words to him, my lips almost on his.

“Don’t.”

“Tu ne veux pas que je me retienne?”

He kisses me rather than answering and I smile at the excitement rushing through my body, but I don’t think he knows what to do with me. He keeps on pulling away to catch his breath and he’s so gentle, I let him control the pace, not wanting to scare him. I was expecting to seduce him, make love to him, but I realise that won’t be happening tonight so instead I relax, allowing myself to enjoy the sensations. He holds me in a tight embrace and I feel like I’m floating with his kisses which wrap around me and flow through me.

“Stay with me.” I feel the panic in his body before he says a word and I’m filled with a need to protect him that surprises me, “I want to kiss you all night. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I’d like that.”

“I want to curl up with you and kiss you until I fall asleep.” 

“I want time to slow so this lasts longer.”

“We have hours until morning, Darling.”

[scentedchildnacho]

I did tell pastor the helicopter noise violence was people who whale....they kill whales and they don't care if many animals like humans are innately smart and kept treating something smart that way....

Yes my cousin is business....but she though from wisconsin has always been foriegn or the peripheral disease....we don't ever expect much or anything from those people and their vain attractions to British lifestyles....

Don't think I cry if yet another boring awful mean Lisa Thanksgiving is gone from my life....they never once tried to make me happy...

Lisa is that creep mean school kid that marries black guys that I have to find out about life are not above my civil designation in life....and wants to stalk around as an ego maniac so don't think I expect anything from someone that pours that much attention on herself unreflective people are horrible people and rude crude bores....

I was white and Catholic leaning and Jesus is black and black people live in perfect well meant correct societies and they obviously understand common order and a previous history of peace and fortune and it was really hard for me to leave that delusion....

In law autumn that business woman also.....now I would never expect anything from people that boobie germane but her friend list that would truly rape me unconscionably like throwing me off a motorcycle or drinking me death if I desired pasta late at night like growing students do

These peripheral characters in my family my own family is what tries to kill me

No i found out my mother and sister are really correct and don't have much to worry about that's true they just can't be happy with me my case with my captors and perps arent something they deserve these peripheral characters though really really are what do all they can to stalk them to be with them....people like me are biological and if told divorce realities move on with my life like I could be way happier if their owners weren't around me

Business Snowden if their always needing to defame me to kill me of thievery to support french banlieus that deserve decency to.......then it's a never ending cyclic pattern or world dictators they will fuck with me till the states learns from east Europeans how to better defend itself and they will bomb Europe and bring back a lot of missing deserved life.....in the end they don't think I deserve the right to life they feel I pay for air for sleep etc ...

I don't like certain Parisians about human rights what is all this you have to have a house to have dignity life isn't fair though fair is never going to keep you alive......and I have a right to life not people too juvenile to ask themselves what their climate problem truly is.....

Well it's Her that told me on dignity levels I can't give whores and men a settlement that doesn't call them angels housing is for angels that's that delusion those people are whores and men and I shouldn't have to give nothing till all is given to European waist lines

Now they don't appreciate what the Lord gives their like give a whore a room of her own so it gets taken away till you settle....

They told me their are behavioural places to stay so I said I try to not be stalked with leave one condemnation for another when those people are stalkers and it's just somewhere private off camera to get to commit the murder

I did confess to her my contempt for that lady with her mother....it's I'm sorry but the elderly go through youthful things and that is not the place of the daughter to help with that hygiene

Uhm your not gay and you shouldn't do that

Truth is my mother was correct in life and if called a mental can pay for these spa like conversations now why won't you let your mother pay for these things

Uhm they did pair me with an elderly lady in Ruidoso but her weirdos are too violent for me ....it's a problem out of my capability but they did at least think about giving me a job with the elderly ....

I was white and it's difficult to want poor white people when privileged white people show up with gun training and the right contracts and security is again established

Many people do really need much better security.....

That's me about The People people thieve off The People with felons resilient to really any counter argument till their gunned off their parasitical focus

The library dance nazi lady.......uhm well when no one impoverished can take a shower or have a notary give them their case file and a suggested release route for boobie to program little things that did then keep me detained under her watch...

And they will accuse her of having professional titles that call me a retard to detain for life and take narcissistic lives off and she today did just yell at me but their propagandists will call her lash out something that connected to my brain permanently instead of negligence incompetence and pogrom....

Anyway she said in a few days she will be allowed something rectified.....so I shouldn't view this as beyond comprehension.....

[harfanfare]

How to win a heart of Floyd Leech?

a/n: Someone requested this; ask got deleted by accident! Hope you will like it, Anon!

Warning!

Once you start walking through the specific points of the guide, your life will be exposed to the presence of Floyd Leech. Interrupting the action at one of the stages may cause many problems; F. Leech categorizes stopping as "boring", which puts the user of this guide in great danger.

The only way out is to get to the very end. Or not to start at all.

You act at your own risk.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

‏‏‎ 

1.   Be an easy new target.

To one’s surprise, it is much harder not to catch his attention.

You can easily become another entertaining target of Floyd, mostly by doing silly things or him just considering them as ones.

And to automatically get labelled as “silly”, you just need to fall into one of his traps—he prepares them for someone else, maybe for goldfish, maybe for another person given a sea-inspired nickname, expecting to enjoy watching how familiar face twitches with terror as he jumps into the scene and tightly embraces passing student.

But no. You were the one who showed up in the wrong place and time as Floyd jumped out from his hideout, scaring you half to death. With a strangled yelp, you sharply backed away. After gaining a slight flush on your cheeks, you recognised who you just bumped into and quietly gasped.

However, he was much more bewildered than you were.

He had never encountered somebody who wouldn’t just freeze under his touch. Jumping away, gasping, muttering half-hearted apologies and flushing? That’s new.

That’s also entertaining.

Even after your quickly disappearance from the scene, his gaze somehow inexplicably started returning to you.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2.   Visit Mostro Lounge often.

“We’re looking for someone who would like to work part-time for Azul~” Floyd said, sliding poster across the table. He popped up in front of you unannounced, having your thoughts return to dark reality.

“Oh,” you replied quietly, packing your things faster. “Good luck with it.”

You got up from your seat, but the thought of letting you go just like that didn’t even cross Floyd’s mind.

“Ehh? Shrimpy, aren’t you going to try?” he asked, frowning. You winced a little at the nickname he called you, not sure how to feel about it. “You know, you won’t work there for free.”

Azul will grant your wish.

You fidgeted a little, questioning your response. You heard—who didn’t?—rumours that Octavinelle leader could fulfil any request for a certain price. Ones were working for it, others were paying, and lasts were trading their request with Azul’s one.

The thought of having anything just by working in some café made you consider the offer again—this time quickier.

“I will go,” you decided.

“Hooray!” Floyd smiled cheerfully, just as if he won some grand prize in the lottery. “But what could Shrimpy possibly wish for, to change your response so drastically~?” he wondered but didn’t get any answer in return.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3.   Be honest.

“Shrimpy...”

You passed Floyd, without sparing him a look. Anyone who has known you for a while would notice that your movements were a bit stiff and creaky.

Once you heard Floyd’s voice, a wave of tiredness struck you as if you didn’t get any sleep last night after working your shift in Mostro Lounge.

There were so many people to serve, so many things to do... and yet, you couldn’t help with anything, still not knowing how everything works, messing up with orders and breaking some plates in process.

Floyd buzzing around you, asking you some random questions (“Shrimpy, have you done it before?”). You answered them quickly, but each of them bumped you out of rhythm, making you forget what you were doing. It also didn’t help that Floyd certainly liked you being disoriented, replying with a shrug and grin on his face at your thundering glances.

So now, after gaining a little trauma from working in Octavinelle’s café, all you could do is ignore Floyd’s presence, silently accusing him of your infamous fiasco.

“Hey, Shrimpy!” he called you again, catching you up. “Are you mad?”

“I am not mad,” you snapped and took an unstable breath. “Look, I just started working, and on my first day I made already so many mistakes—”

“Yeah,” he replied indifferently. “And what with that?”

“...I couldn’t even correctly serve drinks—”

“Oh, stop!” Floyd muffled your mouth with his hand, an annoying look on his face. “I know where it is going. And no, you can’t quit a job, after all my efforts to get you there. It will get boring again!”

“But—”

“Stop, stop, stop,” he corrected his hand on your mouth, now not letting even a sound get through his fingers. “Azul knows that you tried your best. And for these plates you broke, he already added them to your paycheck. You need to practice! Not to give up, Shrimpy!”

You looked up at him, quite stunned by these words. Perhaps he quoted someone from the book or heard someone talking like that...

But it was encouraging. In some way, considering that you couldn’t protest, having your mouth covered. But still, it was encouraging.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4.   Take classes together.

You can have the power of controlling Floyd’s behaviour, making other students’ life easier. Or you two can be a walking disaster.

Turning alchemy lesson into putting random ingredients into a boiler and praying that the mysterious mixture won’t explode.

History classes started being a regular pinching ritual to keep yourself from falling asleep (you are being pinched more, even when you don’t feel sleepy).

In contrast, flying lessons are peaceful. Nor Jade, nor Floyd, nor Azul are fond of these classes. Floyd is much eager to stand both feet on the ground, watching you practice or having you sulking next to him about heights.

However, if you are a calm, shy, or tranquil person, exchanging little notes or drawings will be a little habit of yours. Handing them discreetly under the eye of sir Crewel is quite a challenge, but it also gives satisfaction once the note was given.

Floyd throws away most of your paper conversations, but the ones he really likes, he cherishes them by keeping them with him, stuffed in his pockets. He will be irritated if anyone would like to see what you two were writing about, even if the talk was about new strawberries delivery for the new recipe.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.   Being ticklish or not.

There are two possible scenarios, whether his new, lovely target is ticklish or not.

If is: prepare for being touched a lot. Observing how you quiver with surprise, when he lightly—he especially makes his touch less fierce, knowing very well that tickling isn’t violent—wraps his hands around your waist, making you hold your breath.

He would tickle you a lot, very often making you cry out of laugh and pain that follows sharp writhing and fidgeting, but never that much, to seriously upset you. That’s some luck in such unlucky situation.

If not: he will try to find other weak point. Or will try to make you ticklish—his hands are particularly cold and pressing them to your warm skin, might make you give him a reaction he would enjoy.

Albeit, if you also won’t return any expression even then, he will seriously search for some other weakness. Slightly biting an ear lobe, whispering next to your ear or anything that could make his smile appear, once he made you put him somewhere between “I despise you with each and every cell” and abstract mumbling with the heat on your checks.

Oh, he loves your reactions so much.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6.   Learn all nicknames he gave other people (you will unlock an option to slightly dish other people).

“Oh Lord...” you muttered to yourself, as your gaze followed scribbled list of names that Jade just passed to you. He willingly connected all student’s names with pseudonyms Floyd gave other people and handed the roaster over to you once you helped him with some kitchen cleaning.

“There are so many, right?” Jade replied with a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure you already memorised some of them, being around Floyd that much.”

You nodded mindlessly as you tried to get names into your head. You mouthed them soundlessly one by one, motivated to learn them by the end of the week.

The chuckle that escaped Jade’s lips startled you, and you realised that he still was in the room. Or that you didn’t leave the Lounge even after your shift has already ended.

“My brother surely didn’t exaggerate anything about you,” he said, his tone a bit more buoyant than ever, although you couldn’t be sure as the thick air of mystery still echoed in his voice. “I wonder how it will finally end?”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7.   Always share your takoyaki with him.

“What are you hiding, Shrimpy?”

You shuddered at a voice that you did not want to hear at this moment, not for all the world. Unless that the world included a chest filled with takoyaki, which you could give to certain somebody.

You felt that instead of a shashlik of tasty balls, you were holding a knife in your hands, a veritable proof of a crime you had committed. It weighed heavily in your grip, and Floyd's approaching footsteps did not make your situation any better.

It was a time to hide the evidence.

You pushed as much as you could into your mouth and swallowed a few balls without even gnawing them much. You almost choked on them.

“Me? I?” you asked innocently. You sincerely hoped that no sauce or a stray piece of cake was left on your face. “What could I possibly hide?”

"Hmm, hmm~," he drew closer, and you needed all your will gathered, to make yourself stay where you were. Even without looking in the mirror, you knew you were all pale on the face. “With my little eye, I spy something...”

His gaze went down, just to your hands, which you tried to hide behind your back.

Not giving him a clear look at your palms or wooden stick, you turned around on the heel and run with all your might. Your muscles felt somehow stiff as if they also didn’t see a chance to win this race.

Now Floyd was sure you are hiding something, and there is no chance he’ll let it go.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8.   Watch him at his basketball practice.

81:30 for the blue team!

“Floyd once again started playing wild,” Ace breathed with clear regret in his voice. He glanced your way, frowning at you. “It’s your fault. Please come at practices when Floyd is in my team, not otherwise.”

You laughed awkwardly as he walked away.

A moment later, Floyd reached for a bottle with water and a towel you bravely guarded through the whole practice. He smiled wholeheartedly, happy with the win, water, and your presence.

“How did you like the game?” he asked once he changed from PE clothes and you two started heading towards Octavinelle.

“It was really fun!” you admitted, a speck of amusement appeared in Floyd’s eyes. “The red team didn’t have much time to capture a ball before you got hold of it again.”

“Hehe~ I’m glad you liked it,” he said. “I really like to play basketball, even more than ever, when I know that you are watching! That’s why,” he added, sincerity well-heard in his voice, “you need to come even more often!”

You nodded happily.

You just couldn’t mind it, all that accompanying him.

It was... fun.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9.   Dance, dance, dance!

Heels tapped on the floor and the sound of these steps would probably have spread through the room, if not for the jazz music pounding through Mostro Lounge’s speakers.

Floyd pulled you closer, letting a playful smile on his lips stretch even more. You couldn’t help but smile back, before gasping as he spun you around your axis. You lost balance and would fall if not steady grip around your waist, as Floyd leaned on closer to you, making you bend on one leg more and entirely rely on his touch.

Last notes of melody faded, and you still were in that pose, facing each other. With each second, Floyd’s face was changing from some form of amazement to amusement, finally letting you properly stand.

“Ha... When did you learn to dance so smoothly?” you asked smiling in wonder.

“Hehe~ With legs you can dance a lot more than in the sea,” he answered. “On land, it’s super fun~”

You nodded at his words.

Floyd was a wonderful dancer.

But you can’t be sure if being a good dancing partner is the only thing that made you feel all warm and fuzzy because butterflies still didn’t leave your stomach.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10.            “Let’s do something fun!”

“Here is your paycheck,” Azul handed you a white envelope, sealed with a stamp with the Octavinelle logo. “And you, [Name], was also working for some request, right?”

You nodded as you stared at the envelope.

Somehow, knowing how stupid the lingering thought in your mind was, you couldn’t bear to look up. If you would, your gaze would probably ignore all the elegant furniture of the room, even the owner of the room, Azul, just to settle on Floyd.

If you saw anything more than his shoes, that stupid thought would make their way outside, turning plans into action.

And Floyd unknowingly did everything to make them come true.

“Shrimpy,” he cupped your face with his hands, judging by his voice he seemed quite... worried? When he made you look in his olive and gold eyes, you started holding your breath. “Are you okay?”

With that question, your strong will to wish for something expensive or practical was broken.

You started fidgeting more, not knowing how to express your thoughts in words. “I think I have a request... a question for Floyd, rather than for you, Azul...”

Azul nodded at first uncertain and the room has fallen into silence once again until you spoke.

“Well, Floyd,” you turned to him, trying your best not to wander your gaze away from him, “Please, take your time with answering, but I want your response to be, uh, honest.”

You were tripping onto your own words, embarrassment soaring in your body as you started to think that you should’ve kept quiet. But Floyd was patient with your answer, as well as Jade and Azul who observed the situation as if they predicted it before.

“I mean- Okay, just answer the question.” You took an erratic breath. “Would you like to—”

“Sure!” Floyd interrupted you before even hearing the whole question. “I would like to do everything with you.”

You stood there, all confused. But, by Floyd’s expression you knew that he guessed what you wanted to say. Face heating up, you forgot about Azul and Jade, who hid a chuckle by turning his head to the side.

“How fun,” he said as Floyd wrapped his arms around you, as if shielding you from other people in the room.

“I won’t share Shrimpy with you, Jade. Not a chance.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jealous

Pairing | Eric Northman x reader

Summary | bringing your partner to the bar seemed like a good idea in order to have a nice and relaxing night. However, he appears to become jealous as you speak to the owner of Merlottes.

Warnings | smut, jealousy, swearing, exhibition kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), squirting, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

A hunger derived in the vampire’s chest, a blossoming swarm of contained rage that made the sheriff clench his fangs and watch with piercing eyes. The laughter that resonated from your chest made him scowl, all because he was the one that was not causing it.

Instead, it was the dog that ran around this human grill, the shifter that more often than not, tried to distance himself from trouble. He was the owner of Merlottes. Sam Merlotte was his name, he had a head full of ashy brown hair, that had ropes of grey pleated through it. He was a nice man, warm and welcoming, the complete opposite of Eric in some sense.

The Viking vampire was known, and to your knowledge to be notorious. He never allowed anything to stand in his way, and if it dared to, he would literally, rip its head off if it had one. And despite that deadly feature that he exhibited, you still claimed to have loved him. The two of you were great together, you seemingly brought out the best in him, apart from right now.

Eric grunted to no one directly as he watched you swish your head side to side, shaking it as you laughed at something the bartender said. All that you were supposed to be doing were ordering drinks, not flirting with another one of the men that had previously been head over heels for Sookie.

With one last glance at the shifter, you turned back, sitting on the opposite side of the booth that Eric had been holding. You brushed your hair over your shoulder, it was obvious that you were relaxed in this environment. It was filled with your friends and neighbours, acquaintances and strangers. But it still, despite the limitless customers, induced you with serenity.

“The drinks will be here in a couple.” Despite informing him, it appeared that he could care less about the time until the order reached the surface of the table.

“Will that animal be serving them?” In reply, you laughed, dismissing the seriousness within his tone. That was, until you maintained eye contact with the tall blonde, noticing the feral presence decreasing the size of his pupil.

“Are you speaking about Sam?” You asked uncertainty, the owner having been the only one that you had conversed with in the bar, excluding Eric, so far. “Oh my god, you are.” Your speculation had been correct, and you couldn’t help but feel a pulse of annoyance within you.

If Eric actually ever listened to you, then he would know that your friends meant the world and more to you, and that included the shapeshifter. “I don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He put it simply, and you could only scoff at his defence. It was hardly a reason for him to appear and treat you so uptight and rudely.

“What, with care? Because news flash, maybe you haven’t noticed everything that I have done for you Eric, but many times my actions have proven that you are it for me. And if you can’t see that, you may as well be human!” To support your active words, you stood, the palms of your hands planted upon the surface of the booth.

Sookie quirked a brow as her head filled with your thoughts, however she had no time to adjust to them or check how you were doing, as you stormed out of the grill, leaving Eric with a frown and a sombre glaze in his untameable eyes.

But she couldn’t help herself from taking your place looking down at the table, judgementally prying Eric with a disgruntled frown. “Did you seriously question y/n’s love with you?!” Her accent came out strong, digging into the tense atmosphere that you had strongly abandoned.

Eric rolled his eyes at her intrusion, finding it to be a familiar, yet frustrating feeling of her always bursting his bubble. “It has nothing to do with you, why don’t you talk some sense into your vampiric boyfriend instead?” He jutted back at her, standing, and brushing off any possible lint from his blazer jacket.

Reaching into his inside pocket, he grabbed a small amount of cash, placing it upon the table, and walking past the half faerie, brushing against her as he went towards the door, leaving. Eric had no worries, he could sense that even whilst he was inside, that you were there, leant up against the wall, awaiting for him to follow after you. It was inevitable that he evens would.

Your arms were crossed, and you were facing the parking lot rather than the entrance. The stature that you upheld made it rather clear that you were angry with his behaviour; and not to mention that it was also in public.

The vampire knew that you loved him, despite Sookie’s feeble accusations. Fighting was not something that the pair of you were estranged to, however it made you furious to know that he would accuse you of being interested in somebody else.

It was certain that if Pam was here she would scold her maker for his uptight, and jealous outburst. But it wasn’t as though she would have been able to prevent it anyways, considering that she was all the way across town in Fangtasia attending to the business ongoing there.

“I do know that you love me.” His voice rang out in the cold of the night, frolicking to your ears and biting your lobes as you still refused to face the tall and unfavourable vampire.

“Right now, that is debatable.” Was your retort, feeling the cold air brush against your face as you felt it pinch your nose. “To not only insult my friend, but embarrass me in front of a bar full of people, that was not how tonight was supposed to go at all!”

Your body jolted as you suddenly felt his body press against the back of your own, his large and explorative hand dragging up the skin of your exposed thigh, that was free of coverage in the casual black dress that you had opted to wear for the occasion.

“I am sorry my lovely dear, you know how I tend to be, especially when I hear other men make you evoke that wonderful and all consuming laugh that gets my dead heart to beat every time.” A hitch of a sigh caught in your throat as you tried to remain unaffected by Eric’s flattery, but it was rather impossible, more so as his hands brushed against the lace of your panties.

On reflex, you snapped his hands away from that part of you, you were in the middle of the parking lot for Christ sakes! Though that did not, nor did it ever seem to phase him, if you were to guess, you had noticed some hints leading to him having an exhibition kink. And it was not as though you had never called him out on it, though, most of the time, you happened to give into his public desires.

It was often portrayed within the context and realm of his workplace; Fangtasia. Within the club, there was a frequent case of rendezvous that the club permitted to take place inside its various walls that were filled with vampires and their lustful humans. The exchanges that took place were anything but loving, they were filled by hunger, and the curiosity that simple people, that thought themselves to be edgy and desirable to the immortal eye, all making the rooms reek of pretentious assholes taking advantage of one another.

“We are not doing that here Eric.” You scolded his efforts, despite your craving for them to take place, and ravish you no matter the surrounding that were into the background anyways. With great resilience, you swatted his north travelling hands away, making them stoic from the adequate dismissal.But Eric Northman was never one to admit defeat, he had a plaguing tendency to get what he wanted, and he was always had a route of persuasion to get it.

“Aren’t we?” He asked wispily unto your drifting head, as though he were corrupting the stubbornness that was attempting to remain untainted in the rafters that floated so correspondingly through your weightless veins. “Then why are we sneaking to the back of the grill?” His words had a frown fired upon your face as you tried to register the truth behind his words, but in time before you could ask the mysterious vampire what he had meant by his words, he had sped you away to the said part that was already close by.

“Mature move.” You muttered, and the consequences of your off handed comment had earned you the vulnerable position of being pressed right up and against the back door, that was only usable to the staff. If you tilted your head just right, you could hear the clattering of plates being stacked, and the distant voices o Arlene and Terry as they partook in a private discussion that was supposed to be inaudible to anyone else’s ears.

Beaing that close to people that you knew, and in such a compromising situation where they could easily catch you, had you clenching your thighs together, clearly frustrated by the scenario of your predicament. Clearly. And with Eric standing smugly inside of you, once trailing his fingers on the high top of your thigh, his skin tasting your flesh that was beneath the dress, did not help the matters of your hormonal state.

“I said I was sorry.” Eric reminded you, stroking your thighs with his age old touch, and at the notion, your legs quivered, responding affective to his seducing touch. “Perhaps I have to prove it, would you like that y/n?” An audible whimper fell from your stiff mouth, evicting an amused and gloating smirk out of your boyfriend. He knew what he had done, he had moulded you into a desperate mess.

“I’d rather you apologise to Sam, and whoever else you happened to insult in your time in there.” Was your response, though he tutted at it, seeing through its mask, understanding what you wanted was for him to do more than just caress your thighs, and nothing more. “Eric.” A moan slipped from your mouth, as he fondled your breasts through the bleak fabric.

At first, you thought that he was going to pull the material down to expose your womanly globes, but instead, he tore straight down the middle of the dress, leaving it hanging from you by nothing more than a thread. His action enraged you only slightly, but before you could open your mouth to tell him off for destroying your clothing, he snapped the elastic of your underwear, leaving the personal garment to drop in a discarded manner at your heeled feet.

“You are indeed a sight for sore eyes. Do you know how jealous I would be if one of those fools came out here, and saw you so exposed? There’d be no words to describe how much I would want to compel them to forget, and you thought I was angry inside. That would be nothing more than an understatement my dear.” His hands cast themselves down to grope at your ass cheeks, pulling a surprised squeal out of your mouth.

This time, you did not try and stop his feeling of your body, instead, you rather encouraged it. Wrapping your hand in his smooth blonde locks, you began to push down, which was difficult considering how high his head was, leaving your arms half up in the air as you tried to make him descend. “Do something Eric, or I will.”

“Here?” He asked with a prominent smirk, feeling your hostile glare and intoxicating pout bore harshly into him. Rolling his eyes, he sighed, giving up on his verbal teasing as he sank to his knees, looking up at you from beside your legs. He pressed a sweet kiss against your navel, trailing down, until he was nipping at the curve of your mound, his hands resting on the back of your thighs, to pull you closer as he ran his tongue along the hood of your clit, making you bang your head back against the door.

The sound made you eyes go wide, as you worried that someone on the inside must have heard, though the thought quickly subsided as Eric began to eat you alive, stuffing his tongue in your entrance, leaving you to be nothing more than a mewling victim that was in distress from the pleasure that he gave you. His nose rubbed against your clit, as he hummed delightedly against you, the vibrations causing your body to quiver.

“Stop.” You panted, though he continued, staring up at you with those light eyes, that held much darkness of his past. “Need you inside of my Ric. Please, need you to fuck me good and hard, just fuck me.” There were tears frustratedly slipping from the corners of your eyes, as you were upheld of relief as Eric moved away, undoing his bottoms, and taking his long cock out, sweeping it against your slit.

“I’ll fuck you darling; let everyone know that your mine.” His free hand held the corner of your chin, plummeting his tongue into your mouth, to have one moment of calm, before he penetrated you, leaving you in a mess that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and deliriously spinning from the euphoria that you felt. Eric performed at a fast and unrelentingly pace, slamming you hard enough into the door for everyone to hear.

It was certain that people within Merlottes could hear the sounds that were ravaged from your lips, though you were too absorbed in your own pleasure to care at all. Eric fucked into you hard, and you appeared unfazed as someone tried to open the door from the other side, the wood splintering against your back as your boyfriend‘s strength kept it shut, pushing your floundering body back against it.

And then you felt it, the absentminded swirl in your stomach, coaxing you closer and closer to release. Eric filled you first, and then he reached down, rubbing your clit, causing a clear stream to spray out from around his cock, leaving you utterly exhausted. You were half asleep now, and so, Eric picked you up, and sped away, leaving your torn clothes upon the floor, so that anyone that found them would know that it was the pair of you that had been using the outside wall as a mattress for your engagements.

[etherealluminescence]

Brothers + the now dateables with an MC who just can’t remember names that are like three syllables or more so they just refer to everyone by their nicknames. The mc is still new and does it and when someone says anything they’re just like “it’s your fault for having a long ass name”

I finally return to writing headcanons wow that only took me a year am I right? Ahahaha I had nearly 200 followers and I’m laughing cause I’m slowly watching them leave me. 😎😭

Jokes aside I’m doing MUCH better after resting for a long time. Mentally and physically! So here you go.

Warning LONG aha aha 🥺😭 I feel like this is shorter than my usual ones. I got to get the hang of it again.

Brothers + Dateables with a GN!MC who can’t remember long names HC

Lucifer

When you were summoned to the devildom, you were pretty confused and filled with a lot of questions. Naturally, you’d refer to the people you were calling out to by name, but for some reason you just couldn’t remember them.

You finally found Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos in the hallways, and approached them to ask a question. You forgot their whole names, but figured since you’ve got the first parts of each, that was good enough.

“Ah Luci, about the tasks for this week, what exactly does this part mean? And Dia, when do you want my report?” You asked them.

Lucifer was pretty mortified. He was also pissed. Did you just call him Luci? And more importantly, did you just cal THE lord Diavolo some kind of stupid nickname?

Diavolo on the other hand was laughing at the nickname you gave Lucifer. You were being scolded by Lucifer, and Diavolo was about to pipe in before you said, “It’s not my fault you have a long ass name, like damn, I could write the entire report by the time I finish saying your name.”

Lucifer is really angry at your behaviour at first but since Diavolo is fine with it... and then he soon realizes you literally can’t remember any of his brothers names with more than three syllables too.

He’ll probably try to give you food or drinks that help with your memory, and eventually finds you calling him Luci cute. Will immediately get angry if anyone else tries to call him that.

Mammon

Mammon was one of the first people you met, and one of the brother’s whose full name you can actually remember. He takes great pride in that!

His name was the first his human remembered and knows by heart! Of course! He is The Great Mammon.

Also kind of sad he doesn’t get a cute nickname! Please give him a cute nickname, he wants to feel special too, or very close to you, he craves contact and affection.

The first time he heard you refer to Lucifer as “Luci” he almost lost it. Thought you were going to die and tried to pick you up and run. So surprised when Lucifer only sighed, and responded to your question.

You had to explain to him you can’t remember names that are long, and his is one of the only so far you can remember. When you refer to Diavolo as “Dia” he just genuinely wonders how you do it, like aren’t you scared?

Well it’s not like it matters! You have The Great Mammon to protect ya’ AND you remember his name, it’s a win for him!

Leviathan

Originally Levi thought nothing of it when you referred to him as Levi, as that’s just what everyone else did. But then he started to notice you’d even refer to anime characters or idols as shortened nicknames.

You could pronounce Ruri easily, so he didn’t notice at first since Ruri was all he talked about, but when he said “Azuki” you kept calling her “Azu” or “Zuki”. He wondered why that was an asked.

You explain to him you just can’t remember “long ass fucking names” and anything with three or more syllables was a chore to remember, so there’s no way you were going to remember Azu’s name.

Finds it kind of sad for you, and difficult to understand what character you’re talking about. One time you kept saying a character from “that one show” and kept pouting while Levi’s head was grinding 3000 gears cause there’s at LEAST 5 characters that start with “Saku” like are you saying Sakura? Which!?

Scared for your life when you refer to Lucifer or Diavolo by their shortened names. Surprised to find out you’re completely safe. Soon comes to a realization you’ll just never be able to remember almost anyone’s name, no matter how hard he tries.

He drills it into your head about a certain character will a three syllable name but after the six hours of listening you just... forgot. Like literally the show’s name has the character’s name in it and you just forgot. Cue Levi sighing and calling you a normie.

Satan

One of the lucky three people spared from you forgetting his name. He didn’t realize it at first since Mammon, Levi, and Beel were all their names or family nicknames.

And then it clicks when you called Lucifer by “Luci”, in front of everyone, at dinner. You just said “Luci please hand me the salt” and Satan stared at you wide eyed.

Were you taunting Lucifer, or did you just have a death wish? Wait neither? You mean THE prideful lucifer just handed you the salt without a retort, or question why you called him that?

Questions you later afterwards about what was up about it, and when you tell him you don’t remember “long ass fucking names” it sort of clicks. Still sort of surprised that Lucifer isn’t pissed at you.

Will research human memory because he doesn’t think it’s normal. Like you can remember words with more than three syllables, but why not names?

Will DEFINITELY make fun of Lucifer for it. “Oh, how was your day, Luci?” And will also flaunt about how you remember his name but not Lucifer’s.

Also, like Levi, kind of sad you don’t remember the name of his book characters and just call them by their physical traits because at that point he doesn’t even know who you could refer to by his thousands of book.

Asmodeus

Asmo finds the nicknames extremely adorable!! Probably makes it a trend on social media to start calling everyone you know cute nicknames.

He didn’t think much when you called him Asmo, but hearing you call Lucifer as Luci, Diavolo as Dia, and Barbatos as Barb or baby just had him smitten.

Definitely wants to use cute nicknames too, but Lucifer is threatening him. After finding out that you physically cannot remember names with three or more syllables, including Asmo’s full name, he feels kind of bad for you.

It must suck not to know the whole name of the world’s most beautiful man! And why he starts hearing you call Simeon “Simmie” or Solomon as “Solly” he definitely steals it and copies you.

Diavolo is happy too to have someone else call him by a casual nickname, and hopes it catches on, much to Lucifer’s dismay.

Will probably want you to call him something even cuter instead of Asmo, as your own special privilege, like “Azzy”. He gets to give you a cute nickname too, though.

Beelzebub

Beel didn’t really notice at first, until Asmo and Satan pointed it out. He asked you if you remembered his name, and you just gave him a blank look and said “Beel, I love you, but you have a long ass name, and that’s not my fault.”

He doesn’t really care though, since you still know his nickname! But he is kind of worried for your memory. Are you okay, can you still remember other words? Do you remember the names of his food orders?

Has introduced you to his gym friends but you for the life of you, cannot remember any of their names. Finds it sort of funny how you just remember them as “leg guy” or “treadmill user”.

If anyone gets mad at you for shortening their name he will stand up for you! Baby understands that you just have trouble with remembering, and will defend you.

Belphegor

Finds this shit fucking hilarious. He’s often called Belphie, which you remember, so it’s not like it applies to him that much.

Kinda pissy how you can remember Mammon’s full name and not his, but there are benefits. He starts calling Lucifer “Luci” from now on and taunts him for being weak to a human.

Finds it funny, too, how you just tell people “your name is too fucking long” and call them by their first syllable or something similar.

He’s not really concerned about why you can’t remember names, okay maybe at first, did he kill you too hard? No? Okay.

He probably thinks you’re like him, can’t be assed to remember people’s shit names at times and remembers them based off looks.

Sleepy baby just wants to nap with you, names aren’t important.

Diavolo

The prince of devildom is extremely powerful, frightening, and no one would dare look down on him. He’s always used to people being formal with him, or trying to get on his good side.

However, one day, this small weak little human came into his realm and didn’t even care to remember his name. It entertained him a whole lot to say the least.

Diavolo doesn’t have a lot of people who’d be casual with him, so hearing you call him “Dia” for the first time made him really happy! He would love to hear you say it more often, and to be super casual around him.

When Lucifer or Barbatos tried to correct you and tell you to use his whole name, you only responded with, “No one has time to say his whole ass fucking name. I’m just gonna call him Dia.”

He’s amused, it’s so daring and bold of you to say that to some of the most powerful demons. Of course, if they continue to pester you about it he would step in and tell them that’s it’s fine and he likes it.

Diavolo also finds it super funny how you can’t remember anyone’s names and just shortens them. He might start calling Lucifer “Luci” too!

Other demons probably look at you like you’re crazy, for addressing their demon lord that way.

Barbatos

Barbatos is pretty stoic, but whenever you call him “baby” you can see a faint blush on his face. He isn’t used to nicknames or affection, so when you give it to him, he’s unsure how to react a bit.

He already knew you couldn’t remember names, and would be fine with you calling him “Barb”, which you did in public. But when it was just you and him, or when you were with the others you’d call him “baby”.

“You have a long ass name so I’ll just call you baby. You’re cute like one. Not to mention, it sounds like Barbie which sounds like Barba- what was your name?”

He is pretty fine with it, except when you call Lord Diavolo just as “Dia”. It’d be fine in private or with the others, but did you really have to yell out “Dia” in front of a bunch of lesser demons?

Overall, he just doesn’t mind. Will probably give you a list or notebook of everyone’s names, and physical traits. In case you forgot who was who based off names again.

Solomon

Ah yes another exchange student! Hope he can get close to you. Okay, maybe calling him “Sol”, “Solo”, and “Solly” is a bit too close for someone you just met right?

When you explain how you just physically cannot remember names he kind of laughs at you and then realizes you’re serious. He knows some people have trouble remembering names, but wow, this was sort of unique. You can remember his first two syllables, why not just one more?

He gets used to it fairly quickly, though. Prefers if you call him “Solo” over the other nicknames, but finds it sort of cute when you call him “Solly” or “Sol”.

He will definitely use a nickname with you and call it a human thing, to try and make everyone else jealous.

The man with at least 5 60+ pact marks, the man who is an amazingly powerful sorcerer, the man who is labeled Devildom 2021’s “sketchiest” individual, is called “Solly”.

When he asked the reason to why you suggested Solly you just responded with “Reminds me of Sully from monsters inc”.

Simeon

Simeon is a really nice person so he first figures you’re just being really nice and want to give everyone nicknames! And then he soon realizes you literally just cannot remember names.

He finds it sad how you can’t remember the name of his characters, or how you’ll never actually remember his full name, but really finds it cute how you’ve given him a nickname!

You call him “Sim” or “Simmie” and he’s soft for it. Will probably give you a nickname like “my sheep” or “my lamb”. He’s silently hoping Luke too, will call him Simmie. He gives off the energy of a grandparent.

He will try his best to help you remember names, but he won’t try to force you to remember! If you can’t remember, you can’t. That’s completely fine. Don’t stress yourself about it.

Luke

He has a one syllable name, so he doesn’t experience this personally. But hearing you call Simeon “Simmie” or Solomon “Sol” makes him feel a little left out and confused.

Why do you call everyone by a nickname? He wants one too! He overhears you though one night. You were explaining to some demon whose name had like five syllables that you just can’t remember long names.

Oh! He’s suddenly really happy again. It means you know his name, and won’t forget it! Also feels sort of bad for Simeon and Solomon, since you’ll never remember their names.

Will be happy if you call him “Lukie” before realizing it makes him sound like a child.

[mrsgiovanna]

The Escape Route (Yan! Don Giorno x Fem!Reader)

A request from a lovely nonnie mouse asking how the Don would handle his darling attempting to escape from his home. A bit of a drawn out scenario... I really hope you enjoy the read.

TW: Manipulative relationship dynamics, possessive behaviour, yandere behaviour

Word Count: 2.7k

Your brisk walk was slowly turning into a run as you worked your way through the busy streets of Naples. With your breathing ragged and eyes darting around to make sure nobody was on your tail, you tried to think about how best to put your escape plan back on track.

You knew that Giorno’s influence extended further than most, but you hadn’t expected him to have the power to derail every single option you had thought of to escape from his overpowering grip. You had been running around for hours now, from station to station, none would book you a ticket to anywhere, every cab ride was hastily halted after a dubious phone call… resulting in you being unwillingly ejected from the vehicle each time. So there you were, running into the more dangerous parts of Naples, frantically looking for some kind of shelter to house you while you thought of what you would do next.

Thankfully, you found a tiny inn, sparse amenities, small and far removed enough you thought, to not be on Giorno’s radar. The kindly old lady didn’t ask many questions, and you paid with the cash you had been slowly hiding away for such an event.

You couldn’t pinpoint when your relationship with Giorno had descended to this but you knew that if you stayed any longer his charming brand of captivity would best your common sense and you would be trapped forever. With Giorno, you had access to anything, no request was too demanding… in exchange though he required you to be within his confines at all times, listen to and obey his honeyed instructions with minimal fuss, and to not run off in the occasions when he did take you out of the mansion. I’m just keeping you safe he said… little did you know that the most dangerous one of all was the Don himself with his hypnotic gaze.

To give him the benefit of the doubt, it could have been much worse, he never harmed you physically, never pushed the intimacy boundaries further than you allowed… in your moments of weakness, it was you who had sought out his embrace. The absurdity of it all- vacillating between love and hate for this man, and so to protect the fraying thread that held your sanity together, you decided to make a run for it. It was not an impulsive idea, you had spent the better part of the year planning your grand escape, trying to imagine every way in which your plan could go awry and possible solutions to the problems. Ironically, this was a habit that you had picked up from Giorno himself, and should your plan actually work, it would be quiet poetic- escaping using the traits of your captor against him. You had gathered small amounts of cash here and there, not enough to rouse anyone’s suspicion, and made sure that any and all evidence of you memorizing the layout of the surrounding areas was completely erased. Perhaps the most difficult task of them all, was to lure Giorno into false sense of security regarding your disposition towards your situation. In the weeks leading up to your escape, you had flawlessly played the part of the dutiful ‘wife’, listening attentively, spoiling him with gentle touches and loving gazes, making sure to build up your affections gradually, as if they had been blooming naturally so as not to trigger any suspicion.

Finally, you saw your opportunity to make your move that morning. Giorno had to leave early to meet with a few associates from Japan, so you rose with him, and watched as he got ready, helping him with his hair and doing up his tie. Looking up to meet his crystalline eyes, you noticed he considered you with an expression you haven’t seen on him before.

“What is it tesoro? Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked in a gentle tone.

“You’re… just so beautiful… would you like to come with me today? I’m sure they would love to meet you… I call them associates but in actual fact one of them is a relative of mine. You’ll only be bored for a little while; after that we can do whatever you would like to,” he asked with a gentle smile. You thought about how you were going to answer, ultimately you knew you didn’t want to go, favoring your grand escape instead, but denying him that quickly would definitely set off alarm bells in his mind.

“Ah! Perhaps next time my love, I’m not going to be good company today, I woke up with a bit of a headache… I’ll probably go back to bed and sleep it off after you leave,”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make you feel any better bella, I hate the fact that you’re hurting,” Giorno cupped your face in his hands and gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, “get some rest bella mio, I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” kissing you on the forehead he left without another word. Waiting for him to be completely out of the villa, you watched as his car exited the driveway before quietly packing what you could, mentally going over your checklist more times than you cared to count. Since your change in attitude, the staff at the villa were more accepting of your whims, partly to do with the fact that Giorno had instructed them to do so - within reason, but also, because you had won over their trust and if you had to be honest with yourself, there was nothing you could fault them for. The dynamic Giorno had with them was not ruled by fear, but rather by admiration… all of them being drawn in by his charisma. Managing to maneuver your way through the mansion and out an exit that saw you climbing over a hidden portion of the eastern wall surrounding the villa, you had finally been outside the confines of the villa on your own for the first time in well over a year.

In the car on the way to meet with his guests Giorno was preoccupied. He had noticed the gradual change in your behavior and as much as he would have loved to give you the benefit of the doubt, a nagging inclination that you might be lying always clouded his thoughts. He loved you- entirely- even though there were days in which you rejected his affections, he was patient with you… eventually you’d understand, the dangers that lurked in every corner made your captivity, as you so unceremoniously called it, a necessity. He had grown so accustomed to making decisions with little to no advice, he had adopted that stance in his personal life as well. He rationalized that once you had accepted the fact that his actions were all borne from his desire to protect you, your lives would be peaceful, until then, he would be patient, enduring your tantrums and snide remarks with the grace of an aristocrat… which only upset you further. To Giorno, you were to be looked after, protected- treasured, and so no matter how much you had tested his patience in the beginning, not once were you ever hurt or taken advantage of. Violence and shackles were much too unrefined for a gem like you, so to correct your behavior, the young don resorted to other, less threatening means of discipline.

“Don Giovanna? We have arrived,” shaken out of his musings by his consigliere, his attention was drawn to the fact that they had arrived at their destination ready to discuss the matters at hand.

“Thank you Lorenzo, would you check if the staff has everything ready while I greet our guests?”

“Of course, excuse me,” with that, Lorenzo had left, hastily attending to a call as he walked.

“Ah, welcome to Italy, I take it you and your associates have settled in well?” said Giorno with a polite bow, being mindful of the cultural conventions of his esteemed guests. Drinks were ordered and everyone present had settled down in the private lounge, except for Lorenzo who had been animatedly conversing on the phone for enough time to make his absence felt. Frustrated by what he was tasked to do, he abruptly ended his conversation and sought out Giorno to give him the news, finally, the staff at villa Giovanna had realized you were gone.

“Don…”

“The expression on your face can only mean one thing… when did they notice?”

“A few minutes ago, she couldn’t have gotten too gar given the timeframe… what would you like me to do?”

“You stay here and keep our guests company, I’ll handle this…” not even bothering to alert the driver, Giorno collected the keys from the valet and zoomed off. Making a short drive even shorter, he arrived home in foul mood, although he did assign some of the blame to himself, recognizing his fatal error when he ignored his gut feeling, he was disappointed at how easily you had managed to slip from his grasp and wondered if his staff had been plotting with you all along. He would have to address that later on though, his primary concern now was to locate you and bring you back home.

“Mista, I have a special request to make, please come to the villa, bring Fugo with you,” said Giorno in a quick call, there were few who he trusted more than his underbosses, and this task was something that required only the most competent people. After a short explanation of the situation at hand, both men had already started making calls to the relevant people in an attempt to thwart your plans.

You would think the most frightening thing about Giorno would be his god-like requiem ability. But over and above the raw power he possessed was his reach, the world seemed so small, as if it had rested comfortably in his elegant hands- and you had been getting reminders of this inescapable fate over and over again. By the time you had given up on the idea of escaping through any traditional means of transportation, you must have tried fifty different avenues, each attempt failing more spectacularly than the last. Having had enough, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would not be leaving Naples immediately, and found refuge in the outskirts of the city. You climbed the rickety staircase behind the lady as she prattled on about her day.

“Shall I get you something to eat dolcezza? You look like you could use something warm and comforting in your system. In fact, let me do just that, you get settled in so long,” said the innkeeper before you had a chance to interject. Deciding to take a shower to wash off the day, you took comfort in the fact that this place was so remote, you were almost certain you were safe for the meantime. The tiny bathroom was a far cry from the palatial one you had grown accustomed to while being in Giorno’s villa, but it served the same purpose, only this time, you had your freedom. The place was peaceful though aside from the sound of what must have been a car backfiring and the small creaks from the natural expansion and contraction of the dwelling, it was quiet enough for you to calm down and organize your thoughts. Now that you were comparatively more at ease than before, you felt the strain of the day in your body, aching muscles, sore feet and cuts and scrapes that began to smart affixed a slight grimace to your face as you rummaged through your belongings to find some sort of pain relief.

A sharp knock on the door disrupted your search. You stayed silent for a moment, contemplating if you should ignore it or answer.

“Dolcezza, I’ve brought you a small snack, you’re going to enjoy it,” you just wanted to crawl into bed and forget the day you had, but you also didn’t want to snub her kindness, you reached out to unlock and open the door.

“Buongiorno tesoro… enjoying your little excursion? Marina here was kind enough to show me to your room so I could surprise you… seems like it worked, look at this charming expression,” turning to the smiling woman, Giorno nodded for her to leave. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, you wanted to cry, to run, to jump right out through the hazy window but your feet were rooted to the ground.

“Well (y/n) … you’ve been running around Naples for the entire day, have you found what you’re looking for?” his usual honeyed tone was laced with derision as he critically eyed your surroundings. “is this what you were so desperate to escape to? Look at this place… look at the condition you’re in… how is any of this better than everything I’ve given you?”

“I have my freedom here…” was all you could muster as your mind raced thinking of how he had still managed to find you despite all the precautions you had taken. “Giorno, how…”

“How did I find you? I always have my ways…” he said, sauntering over to the window, opening it just enough to make eye contact with whoever was outside, dismissing them with a nonchalant wave of his gloved hand. Pulling out his cellphone, he showed you the opened application, explaining that he had been using it to track your location, following the signal from the diamond earrings he gifted you on your birthday, carelessly left on when you had made your hasty escape. In all fairness, you hadn’t considered that the dainty gems were anything more than that. Feeling your legs starting to give out under you at the revelation that you were the cause of your own undoing, you sat on the bed hanging your head in defeat.

“Freedom, you say? Tell me how has that worked for you?”

“That’s not fair! You’ve basically controlled every single encounter I’ve had, and even when I thought I had escaped you by coming here, you still somehow managed to manipulate the situation…” you shouted, tears of frustration running feely down your face.

“Stop being dramatic, the world is full of horrible people, everyone is looking out for themselves, I wish you would realize that… tell me tesoro, how many people turned you away? Threw you out of their cars, made up excuses to deny your requests? Not one of those people looked into those pleading eyes and thought you were worth helping. Why? Because people are selfish…”

“You… you threatened them all, you…”

“You give me too much credit, it’s not like I was going to kill them, I hate violence, despite your disappointingly low opinion of me, even you have to admit that I’ve never done anything to physically harm you… all I want is to protect you, you don’t understand how things work out there,”

“It’s not like you’ve ever given me the opportunity to find out how things are… I”

“Some people are just meant to be loved and protected tesoro, isn’t that enough? Why would you want to risk being hurt to get a taste of something that’s actually not even worth it… you’re not cut out for this life… I’ve been here so I know this isn’t what you deserve. You’re coming back home with me,”

“But, I- “ you attempted to interject but his intense glare halted you.

“(y/n), I’m very patient under most circumstances, but please don’t test me now, I won’t say it twice…” said Giorno with a slight bite to his voice, it was clear he was growing tired of this conversation, and you were losing your will to fight back. With a quivering lip and misty eyes, you moved to gather your belongings but was stopped by the young don, arguing that he can replace whatever is there, wanting no other reminders of this transgression to follow you both back. Resigning yourself to this fate, realizing there was nowhere beyond his reach, you grasped his outstretched arm and followed him to the car to return to your life of opulent captivity. Months and months of planning all resulting in nothing, it became glaringly obvious to you that escaping was futile…

[maddieinwonder]

A Lesson In Romance #1: Meet-Cutes

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they meet in a coffee shop.

A/N: Succumbed to my own desire to write a really long blurb-ish series. Emphasis on ish. Heavily heavily heavily inspired by Joselyn's if criminal minds was a rom com series on tiktok. Sometimes I just go back to rewatch them because they give me so much serotonin.

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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It wasn't that you didn't believe in romance, you were simply a sceptic. A critic of love, if you will. Unlike your peers who fell in love swiftly and fully, you never believed in the grandiosity of love at first sight nor the sordid exchange of pick-up lines. You certainly never tried online dating, and believed even less in destiny and soulmates.

So could somebody explain to you why you were touching hands with a cute stranger who was stealing your coffee order?

You turned to shoot him an accusatory glance, but he was staring back at you with a similar frown across his face. "Ok, this has got to be a misunderstanding," you let go of the cup first, trying to make peace. "She just called out my coffee order."

"She called mine too." He insisted, but still mirrored your action as a peace offering. He pulled back his hands to wring the straps of his messenger bag instead. It was then that you noticed his curly brown hair, the type that looked messy no matter what you did with it.

"Alright, before I pull out the fists,” you joked, “there is an easy way to solve this." You flashed him a small smile, moving to grab the cup and turning it around to reveal... not your name.

You stared at the cup in your hand, frowning. You swore she called your order, but it seemed like the stranger was right: somebody else in the world shared your extremely specific, sickly sweet order of coffee.

"I guess I win," he said matter-of-factly, and you couldn't help but smile as you handed him his rightful prize.

"I suppose you do," you laughed, sticking your hand out to introduce yourself, but he kept a distance and raised his hand in greeting instead.

"My name is Dr. Spencer Reid. Uh, you can call me Spencer." He blurted out.

From that simple interaction, you noted that he was probably a little germaphobic, definitely awkward around crowds. His body visibly stiffened as a fresh wave of customers entered the coffee shop, but he wasn’t rude enough to leave mid-conversation.

Then you heard your order being called out. This time, you double checked that it had your name on it before turning back to the weird stranger you just met.

"I guess we're both winners now," you grinned, raising your cup in victory. "Do you wanna get out of here?"

Spencer choked on his drink and you immediately got the mixed signal, hastily correcting yourself. "I mean, like, just leave here. The shop, I mean, I didn't mean it sexually at all. I hope you didn't—"

"Yeah, let's." He cut in mid-sentence, signing his agreement by starting to move towards the cafe entrance.

You realised then that he was tall. More than one head taller than you, easily. For some reason, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the back of his head until you exited the building into the windy, exhaust-polluted air of Quantico, Virginia.

The street had much fewer people and you noticed his stance relax immediately. For the first time, he looked into your eyes without wavering.

Your heart skipped a beat at the eye contact, and you felt something you hadn’t felt in years, maybe over a decade. But you quickly squashed the emotion, knowing that there was someplace far more important you needed to be right now.

“Sorry about earlier, um, I really need to go.” You began excusing yourself.

"Oh, no, no, I'm sorry for holding you up. You should go." He said, breaking his gaze to glance down at his shoes.

"Sorry again, and uh, it was nice meeting you, Spencer." You flashed him one final smile before run-walking to your next stop.

In hindsight, you should have known that you would see him again. The odds of meeting somebody that attractive with the exact same coffee order as you at the coffee shop near your place of work was so low, that the entire combination of events was a probability miracle.

But you didn't believe in destiny, so you kept walking.

It turned out that your brain, even under the threat of unwanted emotions, had impeccable timing because you arrived at the FBI compound exactly on time, not a minute too early or late.

The lift doors to the Behavioural Analysis Unit opened to a bustling crowd, and you briefly wondered what time these people woke up every morning, and where you could get the kind of caffeine they were on. That's when you spotted the person you were here to meet.

"Agent Hotchner," you greeted, sticking out your hand for the second time that morning.

"Nice to see you again," he replied, shaking your hand. His expression was serious, but you wouldn’t expect anything less from a BAU agent. His team was renowned around the country for their ability to solve cases that everyone else deemed impossible.

Last month, when you received a job offer to join said team, you had almost squealed with glee — and now that you were officially done with your previous job, you couldn't wait to jump right into the BAU and help fight some of the evil in this world.

Amid your excitement, you vaguely registered the lift dinging behind you, as Agent Hotchner's eyes glanced to the side. "I see you've already met Dr. Reid?"

You head whipped around to see none other than the man you met that morning, looking as shocked to see you as you were to see him. He was wearing FBI credentials, specifically BAU credentials, that weren't there before.

"Yes, uh, we met briefly this morning." A light blush dusted your cheeks.

"Good. I'll introduce you to the rest shortly, but I have some paperwork I’d like you to sign first. Would you mind following me to my office?"

"No, sir. Definitely." You replied.

"Just Hotch is fine." He said, already walking towards his office.

"Hotch. Of course." You said, following behind him while you suppressed the urge to scream.

Meanwhile, if you had glanced backward for even a moment, you would have seen that Spencer shared your sentiment. Except, anybody passing by could see it too.

His pale skin had turned an uncharacteristically bright red, and he remained rooted in place as his gaze followed your movements until you were completely out of sight. Only then, the breath returned to his body and his expression transformed into a look of distress.

Spencer Reid had a crush and he had no idea what to do about it.

[vemuabhi]

Wait... somebody hold my pasta! Requets are opennnn! Bello, how are you?? I hope you are doing well!

I was wondering if I could ask for a Killer x Reader fic! I thought like, the reader is the new cook and Killer keeps hovering around like she's poisoning the food idk hahaha In reality, he just wants to be around, but doesn't know how to tell her.

Any special touches are so welcome! And please, take your time writing. I know you are swamped with requests and I'm not going anywhere haha Sorry for the gigantic ask!!

Thank you! Wishing you all the inspiration and love! 💙

Hello author san! Im happy to see you here in my box! This is my very first time writing for our favourite Pastaboy!! Im so excited to write for him. I hope its good and I hope you like it @holykillercake swan~~

MR. MASK

Pairing: Killer X Reader

Warning: none. Its Killer fluff!!

Word count: 2.3K

Likes/votes, comments, shares/reblogs are appreciated!

Summary : being the new cook of the Kidd pirates, comes with a very suspicious and also a curious mask dude.

"Yes. I know that and I added extra sugar for Kidd", you replied to the mask dude who was telling you, the official cook for the crew, how to make coffee for the captain.

"Just making sure", he said and started to make pasta.

"I could make it for you", you said.

"Its alright. I can do it myself. You can now go and serve the coffee to the gang", he replied without even looking at you.

'This jerk... why the hell is he like this?', you cursed under your breath and went to the rowdy gang. Mornings were the only time of the day, the assholes didn't drink.

"Heat! Wire! Wake up!!", you knocked the door and went inside. The roomies had a drowsy look on their faces. But ofcourse these two and Killer mostly stayed up guarding the ship.

Then you went to Kidds cabin and knocked once before entering.

"Captain, wake up", you said and carefully placed the hottest mug on the side of the night stand. He just grunted and turned. You knew, once Kidd woke up his drink would turn warm. So his was extra hot than others.

Once when a traitor was about to kill Kidd in his sleep, the first mate used the boiling hot coffee which was on the captains stand just in time. So... its not only a drink but also a weapon.

You quickly handed the rest of the crew, their mugs and went to the kitchen to brew the stew for the breakfast. Yes ofcourse it was wished by Kidd himself the day before.

You saw the first mate eating his pasta peacefully with his mask on. Before you were the cook, he cooked for the crew and this became his habbit to eat before the crew. He never removed his mask. Not once he revealed his face.

It would be a lie, if you said you weren't interested how he looked like and why he wore his mask always. But slowly you got used to him and his behaviour around you.

He always told you what to add and always asked what you were making. His special interest to the ingredients was weird. He looked at the ingredients and cut them for you everytime. As if you'd poison the food, if he wasn't around.

You were getting pissed by his actions day by day. You went to the stove and continued to stir the stew.

The breakfast was hectic with the rowdy crew and their massive appetite. You did feel someone staring at you once in a while. There would be 2 people if you felt like someone is staring at you. One being heat and other, the blond. Heat sat beside you, so you knew it wasnt him. And you made sure Heat could over come his shyness and ask you for food instead of staring.

You turned to look at Killer and yes, his mask was facing you. You shook your head and continued to eat the food.

And after a bit of training with Heat and Wire, you went to the kitchen to make lunch.

You got irritated when you saw the vegetables already cut. It was the work of Killer and you couldn't do anything but to sigh. You quickly started to mix the already cut veggies with the spices.

Making the Lunch was a bit peaceful. Because during this time, Killer and Kidd used to talk about some upcoming events and handled some paperwork. Sometimes they would build machines or new types of weapons.

The dinner was again a bit difficult. You could cut the vegetables this time but, he'd come to the kitchen and ask you what you were making. Sometimes he used to read books during this time. Sometimes it felt weird if... he wasn't in the kitchen.

Just like everyday after dinner, you now sat in the kitchen alone and looked at the new recipes, thinking what to make tomorrow. And like a routine, Heat came towards the Kitchen and stared at you for a few seconds before calling you.

"Hey.. Y/N", you immediately looked at him and knew what he was about to say. So you got up and went towards the fridge.

"Can I have any leftover dessert you made today", he asked as you closed the door with the dessert in your hands.

Walking towards him you placed the food before him and sat opposite to him.

He smiled happily and took a bite of the dessert and started to eat it with delight.

Yes you loved to see people enjoy the food you make. So you always made sure to save a portion for him.

You decided to ask Heat the question you had for months.

"Heat, can I ask you something"

He swallowed the dessert in his mouth and nodded.

"So... its actually about Killer", you said. Heat curiously leaned over to listen to you.

So, actually.. i feel like he is really suspicious of whatever I do and its really bothering me", you said before closing the cook book and sitting straight.

"How can he be so suspicious even after I am here for more than 4 months. I mean, if he has any problem with me, he needs to tell me right. What should I do? ", you ended with an ask and looked at him curious eyes.

He took another bite of the dessert and started to think carefully.

Finally he answered by saying, "I am pretty sure Killer is not doubting you. Maybe its better if you ask him"

"Why do you think its not the case?"

"Well, if it was... you wouldn't be alive. Its as simple as that."

'Damn that makes perfect sense. Why didn't I think like that', you mentally facepalmed yourself.

"Y/N, I believe there is something else. Why not just ask him", he suggested taking another bite.

"Yeah... thanks", you smiled at him and leaned back into your chair as you continued, "ill do that"

But ofcourse. It wasn't that easy to ask Killer. So a few days passed and one evening, the crew reached an island.

After docking, Kidd wanted to get drunk and fight other drunkards in the bar. Thinking it was a good chance to slip out of the place. The island was beautiful and the stars started to twinkle in the sky.

You walked aimlessly in the streets, which were a bit dark but still were beautiful. You didn't have to be scared. You are strong. One of the Kidd pirates. The one who always trains with the super soldiers heat and wire.

Then a park caught your attention. Walking in it you saw a slide.

'Ha... memories', you thought as you walked towards it.

The next thing you knew was you climbing up on the slide. You were ready to slide down it then you noticed the mask staring at you. You didn't know what to do. Your mind was blocked with the embarrassment. Still you slid down. Oh my... the 2 seconds slide was definitely awkward.

Both of you were so silent and just kept staring at eachother, with a blank expression.

You swore you could see his shoulders shaking. Was he... trying to hold back his laughter?

"What is so funny?", you asked with your cheeks flushed pink.

Damn he turned to another side to avoid looking at you, while he still tried to hold his laugh.

"I.. I just felt like... playing because its been a while", you tried to explain yourself while folding your arms. Then he slowly turned to look at you.

"I... didn't ask you anything", he said folding his arms.

"Tsk... why did you come here anyway?", you asked but you didn't receive any answer. You started to walk towards the swing now. He quietly followed you a few steps behind. Well you got caught so, there is no reason to hide or sacrifice the urge to play.

You sat on the swing and looked at him slowly coming towards you.

"Killer! Push the swing up high", you asked.. more like ordered.

He stood behind you in a blink of an eye and pushed the swing forward. It had been so long since you played like this.

The cool breeze felt so good. You chuckled as soon as he pushed you a bit higher. Oh how it felt like music to his ears.

After a while you asked him to stop it. You tripped as you felt a bit dizzy after swinging for so long. Ofcourse Killer was there to make sure you didn't fall down. You tapped his shoulder and made him to sit on the swing.

"Now It's your turn", you declared.

"Woah, you don't have to", he said but you didn't care and pushed the swing forward. If Killer didn't have his mask on, you could've looked at how he blushed at your actions.

Then you suddenly thought about what Heat told you. You decided it was the correct time to ask him as it was neither awkward nor anyone interrupted you two.

"So, Killer I wanted to ask you something for a while now", you saw that Killer definitely flinched when you said it.

"Wh..what is it?", he replied trying to keep him as calm as ever.

"Do you not trust me?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you are always in the kitchen, asking me what I was doing, what I was adding, what ingredients I was using. It feels like you don't trust me", you pushed him again but he stopped to swing, by placing his legs on the ground.

"Oh no! I do trust you. I never thought you'd misunderstand my actions", he said facing you. You gave him a confused expression for which, he turned away and sighed.

"I was... trying to help you", he mumbled.

Your cheeks turned red at his answer. Then everything made sense. The way he always tried to make you know what the crew liked. How he cut veggies and other items for you. How he made his own pasta to lessen your work.

'God damn it! Now that I think, Ofcourse he was helping me', you started to curse yourself inside.

"So... you didn't knew it", his faced down looking at the ground beneath him.

"Im sorry. Killer please forgive me", you crouched before him and looked up at his mask. 'Aww how sad he seemed now.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice that you were helping me", you said taking his hand in yours.

"Its alright. It might've been my fault. I am this weird looking mask dude. No wonder you got scared"

"No no Killer. Its not because of your mask. Its not your fault. It was my fault. You are calm and collected. You always analyse things before hand. You solve fights between the crew members. You always did help me. You were always around me and made sure I didn't feel uncomfortable. You are an amazing cook and a great partner", you ended saying it.

Well with the last part you got carried away and got real close to his mask. As if you were kissing his mask.

Oh damn. You pulled back but... you were damn fricking sure, you saw shiney light blue eyes.

"Thanks Y/N", he said getting up and as you both still held hands, he pulled you up.

He placed his other hand on your waist to make sure you had balence before letting you go. He waved to you and started to walk towards the exit.

For some reason, you felt like, you'd really miss something if you just let him go now. As if... you'd not see him like always. Your legs worked their way and now you were running behind Killer.

"Killer stop!", you said and he tuned back to look at you. You couldn't stop your legs and almost tackled him down. But he was way too strong for you to tackle him down. So now, his arms were supporting you. Again!

You almost died with embarrassment but... you had to tell him.

"I didn't hate it", you said but he didn't reply. More like he didn't even know what to reply. Or... he didnt even understand what you meant.

"I didn't hate when you helped me. Infact I... liked it. Thanks for helping me then and also from now on too. So please do stay with me", you ended the sentence with looking down at the ground. It was quiet for a while.

'The fuck... why did it sound like a-'

"Is this a confession?", he asked

Your cheeks turned red at his question.

"Ah- I... But...", you struggled to come with an answer then you noticed his shoulders shaking again.

"Idiot! Dont laugh!", you shoved him back and started to walk away.

"Hey wait. No one dared to shove me and walk away", he said and followed you. You smirked at that and continued to walk with your head up.

He then continued, "Well.... except for Kidd, when he is on his period"

This shit made you to crack up and you laughed.

"Damn Kidd would kill you", you said as you placed your hand in his and you two continued to talk. You felt so warm in your heart when you held Killers hand.

Maybe something was about to start between you two.

Meanwhile in the bar of the island.

"*Achoo* I hope I didn't catch a cold", Kidd said as he snatched a drink from another person and started to make a ruckus in the bar.

XOXOXOXO

I hope you enjoyed reading this story. I hope I made justice to my very first Killer fic. I enjoyed writing so much for Killer. He is a comfort charecter of mine after Sanji. I tried so much to get a good plot for Killer.

Like/vote, comment, share/reblog to support me.

Follow for more!

[beewolfwrites]

An Iron Box - The Answer

@cheshiya @tenseoyong @szallejhscorner @something-more-original-please @ofsunsetsandpoetries @nek0dzuken @allozaur @hiqhkey @serenzippity

That rooftop scene is growing closer, and so is my excitement :D

I’ve noticed a few new readers, and I just wanted to add a heads up that you can find the Tumblr post links and the AO3 links to each of the three fics at the top of my Tumblr, if that helps at all! 

Here’s the AO3 link to this chapter too.  

I hope you like it! <3

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‘Chishiya, I’d hate to be your enemy.’ 

When Arisu had spoken those words right as he punched in the code, he’d already made his fatal mistake.

You are all my enemies, in a way.   

I stood back, watching as Arisu’s bloodied and unconscious body was slung over a militant’s shoulder and carried out of the royal suite. Usagi went next, kicking and screaming her boyfriend’s name. Just as she was dragged out the door, her eyes locked on me, and I could see the sheer betrayal there, the hatred burning and seething under her skin. 

I simply smiled. 

It wasn’t personal. It’s just how this world works.

Sometimes you have to sacrifice a pawn to reach the king. 

The rest of us meandered out into the hall where the two traitors were being hauled towards their fate. I felt a hand clamp firmly on my shoulder, and fought the urge to move away when I saw Aguni standing beside me.

‘You did good, Chishiya. I never did trust those two.’ 

You should rethink where you put your trust. 

‘Don’t mention it,’ I said. ‘It’s the least I could do.’ 

There was a furious cry down the hall as Usagi bit someone’s hand, followed by a slap, and then silence. I already had an inkling about what would happen to the two of them. Knowing Niragi, he would have some fun with Usagi before disposing of her. Perhaps I should’ve felt guilty. Some people certainly would. But there was a small, satisfied part of me that was glad it was her instead of... 

‘That reminds me,’ Aguni said. ‘How did you know about them?’ 

‘Ah… that.’ I took the walkie talkie out of my pocket and flashed it to him. ‘They tried to get me to join them. I went along with it to find out the details, and you know the rest.’ 

Aguni’s brows furrowed at the sight of the device, but he didn’t ask to inspect or keep it. That’s when I knew I had him wrapped around my finger. 

‘I understand. If you see any other suspicious behaviour, let me know.’ 

‘Of course.’ 

I nodded politely as he disappeared down the hall and submerged himself in his room.

Now that those two were taken care of, the militants would be distracted for a little while. That left us a generous amount of time until dark, although the real plan wouldn’t take long to execute, especially now I knew where the actual safe was.  

Aguni may have been observant, but not nearly as observant as I was. Knowing that he had come so close to having the cards snatched from right under his nose, it would’ve unsettled anyone. And in such an unstable situation, it was only human nature to seek stability by making sure that your precious items are untouched. 

I guess I was wrong about the blank sheet. 

There was a room on the top floor that I knew wasn’t currently being used. In such close proximity to the royal suite, it was the perfect hideout where I could talk into the walkie talkie without worrying about eavesdroppers. 

Slipping inside, I pulled it from my pocket once again to tune it to a radio frequency I had told Kuina about earlier. Knowing her, she would have tuned (name’s) to the same one right after Arisu’s capture. 

I lifted the walkie talkie to my mouth. ‘Kuina?’ 

There was a drawn out moment of static, then Kuina’s voice crackled through. ‘I’m here. (Name) still needs a minute though.’ 

I figured as much. Once she realised what was happening, it was inevitable that she would react badly. Having Kuina there to keep her away from Arisu and Usagi had been for the best. And now she knew that I had unwillingly involved her in a plan like this, her opinion of me had probably sunk lower than before. 

Is this also for the best? 

I sat down on the unused bed, deciding that yes, it was. She would only be a distraction. If it came down to it, I needed to survive. And once we left the Beach, if she despised me so much that she chose to go down a separate path, it couldn’t be better. 

But still… 

‘Chishiya.’ Kuina’s voice interrupted the quiet. ‘I hope you feel guilty for this. I seriously hope a small part of you realises how screwed up this was.’ 

I smiled at her lack of understanding. I realised perfectly well, but for the sake of surviving in a world like this, you couldn’t allow yourself to slip to the bottom of the food chain.

‘You’ve changed your tune,’ I replied. ‘Are you backing out all of a sudden?’ 

‘Of course not. I can’t afford to, and neither can (name).’ She paused, then tentatively asked, ‘Did you know? About her… and you, you know.’ 

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ 

‘Did you know she had feel—’ Kuina’s voice stopped, then she hushed, ‘She’s coming out now. We’ll be upstairs soon.’ 

The communication cut off, and all I could do was wait until they were in position. Wait, and mull over Kuina’s unfinished question. Obviously, they had been talking about me, but I almost didn’t want to know what they had said. 

I waited fifteen minutes, and there was still no sign from either of them. If they carried on at this speed, we would run out of time. Growing restless, I held up the walkie talkie. 

‘You two, how are things on your side?’

There was no response, but they would have to reply eventually. What I didn’t expect was her voice to come through. 

‘You’re all good to go from where I’m standing.’ Her voice was still dripping with unspoken anger and betrayal, and it was surprising she was even willing to talk to me. 

So you’re not as childish as you act. Who would’ve thought. 

‘Aguni’s still in his room,’ Kuina followed up with a sigh. ‘We’re getting bored now.’ 

‘Then should we get going with the plan?’ I suggested. The reply I got was scathing. 

‘We’ve already gotten going. It’s you who needs to hurry up.’ 

That attitude, it was almost laughable. How commanding (name) had become in an instant, as if she weren’t tagging along on someone else’s plan.

‘Patience,’ I reminded her, and turning down the volume on the walkie talkie, I cracked open the door. 

In the hall, there wasn’t a soul in sight. It couldn’t have been more perfect. The royal suite was unguarded, and I easily slipped by unnoticed. Inside, the room was bathed in darkness, and it became apparent Aguni hadn’t yet bothered to move his belongings in. There were still traces of the incident earlier. The carpet by the open wardrobe was spotted with blood. Arisu’s blood. 

I turned the volume on the walkie talkie back up. ‘I don’t know if Arisu is stupid or intelligent. Hatter was paranoid. He wouldn’t have hidden the cards in a normal safe.’

‘Where’s the real one then?’ Kuina asked. 

I turned to the deer painting on the wall. It didn’t particularly stand out as anything special, just a deer’s face and antlers against a blue toned background. And yet earlier that day, despite all the commotion and Arisu’s screams of pain, it had captured Aguni’s focus. 

‘When Arisu was caught,’ I said, slowly approaching the painting, ‘Aguni wasn’t paying attention. He was looking towards a certain picture on the wall. It turns out the paper wasn’t empty after all. It contained a drawing instead.’ 

Briefly placing the walkie talkie on a side table, I lifted the painting from the wall, uncovering the hidden treasure that I had been hoping for. The plaster had been carved up, forming a hole large enough to jam a small safe inside. And sure enough, there it was. A hotel safe, much like the one Arisu had tried, was embedded deep into the wall. 

Her voice, sounded through the static. ‘So, you had no idea where it was until then?’ 

I picked up the walkie talkie again. ‘Exactly. What happened to Arisu was necessary if we were going to find the real safe. Speaking of which, I’ve found it.’ 

Now it was the moment of truth. The final test to see if my code was correct. I punched the numbers in one by one. 8022. Each one held its own magnitude, and I half-expected an alarm to ring out. 

Except it didn’t. The safe display read ‘OPEN’. 

‘You used him just for that?’ was Kuina’s tired response. 

Really, after all this time, did she not realise that this was the price one had to pay? This world had a certain dynamic. In order to survive, you couldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in guilt or shame. 

‘In order to gain something, you have to lose something,’ I said. ‘He’s just a sacrifice. Things like this happen a lot, don’t they?’

'No, they don’t. Not at all. I really don’t want to be your enemy.’

I smiled, remembering the betrayal in Arisu’s expression. ‘I get that a lot.’ 

----------------------------------------------------------------

The deck was like a weight, swinging in my pocket. A surefire sense of power and danger, all hidden within a stack of cards. There was no way of knowing whether collecting them granted any passage back to the old world. But there was also nothing to prove that they didn’t. 

Either way, I’m certain something will happen once the deck is completed. 

These cards couldn’t be for nothing. 

After replacing the painting, I told Kuina and (name) to meet me near the patio exit at the east of the hotel. I could’ve caught up with them on my way down from the top floor, but I wanted to make a small diversion. 

I’d never felt any attachment to my room, and even now as I took one last look, there was nothing in particular keeping me here. 

Well, maybe just one thing. 

Pulling open the second drawer down on the desk, I felt around at the back for the tiny box. It was only small, and the ring inside even smaller. It sat open in the palm of my hand, the silver fashioned into a small sun with a glistening green centre. 

Somehow, its weight was even heavier than the cards. 

Is there any point?

I could’ve easily slipped it into my pocket, but it was practically useless. Even if I gave it to her, she would instantly reject it. 

I placed the box back in the draw. It would stay a secret for the next person moving into this room. As I shut the drawer, I suddenly remembered another, darker secret hidden inside the one below. I opened it up, seeing the little souvenir I’d taken from my first game. 

The pistol glistened inside, metallic and dangerous. Now that would certainly keep Niragi at bay. But again, was it worth it? It didn’t hold many bullets, and it wouldn’t stand a chance against a rifle. Once we were out of here, I could probably find something a little bigger, perhaps in Tokyo’s empty Yakuza hotspots. 

I left it there along with the ring. Even walking away felt like tugging at a string that kept pulling me back towards that tiny box. I would have to rip that string apart. 

Making my way down through the hotel, I strolled outside, dipping into the smaller paths where the patio was peaceful. The only sounds were the faded music drowned out by wind, and the soft trill of crickets. Two silhouettes came into view, one basking in the glow beneath a lamppost, the other hidden against the wall in its shadow. 

‘I guess we won’t be needing these anymore.’ I pulled off the wristband I had gotten so used to wearing. Just as I reached the brick archway at the edge of the grounds, Kuina spoke.

‘Don’t you feel sorry?’ 

I paused. ‘Sorry?’ 

‘About what happened to Arisu,’ (name) said. ‘I feel really sorry for him. We both do.’

Kuina hummed in agreement. ‘Don’t you?’

I turned, glancing from Kuina’s frown to the figure behind her. No matter how hard she tried to hide in her friend’s shadow, I could always find her, especially when her eyes looked so full of anger and hurt. Standing there, both bracing themselves against the cold, the two of them echoed off one another in perfect harmony. 

‘I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.’ 

I knew what line came next. She didn’t have to sing, so long as she was still breathing. Perhaps I could make her understand. 

‘Is there anything we wouldn’t do in order to survive?’ 

Clearly, there was. Their eyes widened, as if the truth of this world hadn’t fully hit them yet. As if all my efforts had been for nothing in their eyes. 

Fine. Very well. 

I smiled, no longer caring to hide the bitterness. ‘If you both feel so worried, then maybe you should go and help him.’ 

And of course, neither of them budged. They knew they couldn’t. They were both so happy to come with me if it meant escaping the Beach, yet they still felt the right to criticise my methods. I turned back towards the arch and took the first step forward into freedom, only to hear that tiny, oh-so-familiar sound. 

A buzzing. 

‘It can’t be,’ I muttered. 

This was always a possibility. But why here? Why now? Why, when I was so close to winning? Any other time, and I wouldn’t have minded. This, however, was simply annoying. 

I was so deep in thought, I barely registered the footsteps behind me… the familiar form sliding past me… walking closer towards the arch. 

‘Stop.’

My hand moved on its own, grabbing her wrist and tugging her back just in time. For one small second I felt the heat of her skin, right before it was yanked out of my grip. 

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ She touched her wrist as if it had been burned, unaware that it had been the other way around. 

I couldn’t answer. The cold had settled back in, the emptiness. It only confirmed that nagging suspicion I already knew. The reason I couldn’t rip the string apart. She was the answer.

Kuina appeared at my side, waiting for an explanation. Her presence reminded me that there was something far, far more pressing at stake. Suddenly remembering the wristband I was holding, I tossed it into the arch. 

A glowing red laser shot through the centre and it clattered to the ground. 

The timing was almost ironic, too perfect to be true. Almost like the gamemasters had been watching us all along, just as they had with that little stunt they pulled in the Eight of Hearts. As frustrating as this was, I had to admire their creativity. 

I sighed, turning around to see a wall of lasers appear along the parameters of the hotel.

Touche. 

[yniswaifu]

The bet - 3

Sweat and shoes hit the gym floor as the Inarizaki volleyball team practiced for the upcoming national tournament. The members were more stressed and under pressure, as in the previous year they lost the first place by a hair. But this time, they were determined to win.

Under normal circumstances, Osamu would be giving his all if not more, and completely down to compete with his brother. But for the past couple of days he had such a gloomy vibe around him that Atsumu didn't even want to approach him for an one-on-one game. Not like he was doing any better after f/n dumped him. But it was also not as bad as his twin.

You covered 90% of Osamu's thoughts lately. Half of it was trying to understand why you suddenly, out of nowhere talked about the bet with f/n, and the rest was of how much he missed you. He didn't tell anyone, as usual, and even if his teammates noticed the change, they didn't say anything. Including Kita – the most meticulous of the lot.

But the problem was, this was messing with the flow of the team and nationals was around the corner. Osamu had to do something about his issues, and he had to do it fast.

Missing the receive for the nth time now, Osamu cussed loudly and slammed his fist on the wall. He wanted to put his body and mind in the game, but he just couldn't. What the heck did you do to him.

"Osamu, take a break. And collect your thoughts." Aran said softly. He knew Osamu had to buck up, but he also understood something was troubling his teammate.

Sighing, the second year nods and sits near the wall with a towel in hand and water bottle in another. Suna was eyeing him, and so was his brother, but they didn't say anything.

"it's all y/n's fault." Atsumu says, clicking his tongue. He always thought you were one of the coolest people around, and perfect for his brother – but all this went out the window when it came to f/n and how she broke up with him the other day.

Atsumu was so confused and shocked and upset that it took him some time to realize what was happening. F/n was crying and he couldn't even hug her or console her because apparently it's over between them now that y/n revealed the truth behind the relationship. He was so mad at y/n that he swore if y/n was a guy then she would have been punched already. Although he did get a little rough with her by grabbing her collar.

That made him feel bad, but he wasn't going to admit it.

"I think what she did was correct though." Suna says, shrugging.

Atsumu is in shock. What is this guy saying? "correct? F/n broke up with me because of her dude!"

"not really. that's because the relationship didn't have the best start."

He was speechless. What Suna said was right, but...

Sighing, he chooses to ignore the words and resume their practice.

Osamu observed others. They all seemed to be in their top form, fit for the national. Meanwhile he's being a heartbroken Romeo.

Shaking his head, he tried to get his thoughts together. Y/n didn't have to go and dig up old memories. Memories that were supposed to be buried forever. He wanted to be with you and play volleyball, not deal with this mess you created.

Even if it was you who messed up, you had the audacity to go missing after that day. You neither called or texted him. And it also seemed like you were avoiding him. He could ask Ginjima, your second cousin, but the two of you lived away from each other.

Ten minutes in, Osamu felt better and felt like he could focus in the game. But just then, the gym doors open, and a familiar face peeps in.

Osamu halts in his place, wide eyed. He hadn't seen you for three days, but as soon as you appeared, it made him feel like he's seeing you after three years. And that made him a little emotional.

He sees you scan the room, missing him in the process. Finally, your eyes land on someone to his right, and he sees Kita walking towards you. You smile and say something, and Kita calls Ginjima.

He runs towards you, and you hand him something, a bento of sorts before smiling and waving him goodbye. Just then, Suna says, "y/n! Wait a minute!"

Osamu was busy staring at you when Suna's voice echoed in the gym and is surprised at the sudden call. He never expected Suna to do something so...bold. He sees you two talking, and how Suna is saying something to make you laugh, and he notices how you copy Suna's signature pose he does before his blocking. When did the two of you become close?

Atsumu, who is now standing beside his brother mutters under his breath, "never knew she will jump to another man so fast? That too Suna."

Osamu wanted to strangle his brother for that, but even he thought how much of that could be correct. You were laughing at Suna's words like you never had a boyfriend and never did anything wrong. And hadn't been contacting that so called boyfriend.

"Suna! Enough talking! Let's get back to practice!" he yells, much to everyone's surprise. He himself wasn't sure why he said that, but he did say that, and now both you and Suna look at Osamu at the same time.

He swore you saw your face drop before returning to normal.

You bid Suna goodbye and leave. He returns to the crowd and said something to Ginjima, ignoring Osamu.

"what did y/n give you?" Aran asks Ginjima.

"ah, a bento her mom prepared, since my parents won't be home, so aunty sent something for me for dinner." he answered.

Osamu's eyes narrowed. He shouldn't be jealous of Ginjima, since he's your cousin, but he was. And that was more irritating.

"y/n said to share some with me as well." Suna interrupts. It was such an obvious lie that made Aran roll his eyes.

Ginjima looks at him with a deadpan expression. "please. She didn't. I know her."

"but she did."

"never."

"I'll tell–"

"can you both shut up about y/n and get back to practice." Atsumu's voice interrupts them both. His tone was that of annoyance.

Suna gives him a side eye look, while Ginjima is surprised. What just happened?

"yo, you good?" he asks the blondie.

"not really. Nationals are coming up and here we're discussing about some stupid girl."

Wow, Osamu is pissed now.

"watch your mou–"

"don't call y/n stupid." Suna cuts him off. He looked pissed.

It's not just Osamu or Atsumu, but the whole gym that was surprised. First of all, that bold move he pulled earlier was shocking. And now he's defending someone? Is this really Suna Rintarou they knew?

Osamu felt helpless in all this. He couldn't bear this type of conflicted feeling, and he wanted to talk to you and sort this out. He hated fighting with you and because of the chaos and Suna's weird reactions and behaviour towards you, he felt insecure. It's not like you had broken up with him, then why is this happening? Where another man had to take your side?

With the resolve to make up with you, Osamu returns to the game when Kita orders everyone to go back to the game and talk this out when they weren't practicing.

I know chap 3 is short, but I felt anymore than this would ruin the flow. So stay tuned for chap 4. I think this fic would be another 2-3 chaps more. Also, Suna defending someone is...👀

Yeah.

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning into Stone, Chapter 3

A/N As promised, Jamie returns in this chapter.  He has an appointment to keep, after all.   Because I can’t think of anything more creative, this chapter is entitled “Second Appointment”.  For previous chapters, your best bet is to check out the story on my AO3 page.

The week both crept and flew past, like one of those dreams in which she ran until her lungs burned, but never managed to get anywhere.  Kinetic motion trapped in amber.   Claire never did tell Geillis about her excursion to Corstorphine Hill over the weekend, embarrassed by how it had ended.  

And now it was Thursday.  She’d opted for a protein smoothie for lunch, a meal with no chance of leaving leafy residue between her teeth.  It was likely wasted vanity.  As two o’clock drew near, she bargained with herself to abandon any hope she may be harbouring.  Jamie Fraser had shown no interest in participating in the psychiatric process during his first appointment.  Fraternal obligation had brought him to her office once, but he didn’t strike her as a man who yielded the reins of his life easily.  It wasn’t likely he would return.

When it came his distinctive knock, crisp and insistent, caught her unawares, even though she’d just been staring at his name in her planner.  She hastily pushed the items on her desk to one side, patted uselessly at her curls, and called out for him to enter.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Beauchamp,” he greeted cautiously.  “Miss Duncan told me tae come straight in.”

There was something different about him today.  His clothing, certainly.  Instead of casual wear, he wore trousers and a button down, wet splotches over the shoulders attesting to the fact that it had begun raining again.  And while he still took up an inordinate amount of space in her small office, he seemed... diminished, somehow.  A paler echo of the fireworks display of his first visit.

“Of course.  Please have a seat, Mister Fraser.”

“Jamie, if you will,” he corrected as he settled gingerly into the armchair.  “Mister Fraser was my Da.”

Something about his tone and the fact his laser blue eyes wouldn’t meet her own as he spoke the words caused her to lean into his statement.

“Did your father pass away recently, Jamie?”

A moment, an indrawn breath of panic, and then it was cleverly masked with a wry glance.

“Aye, last year.  An’ yer no’ very subtle, doctor.”

“I didn’t realize subtlety was called for,” she parried.  “You made another appointment, and I specialize in grief counselling.  Why else would you be here?”

Despite the fact that it wasn’t productive from a psychiatric point of view, she enjoyed his reluctance to hastily expose his inner demons.  Too often, her practice required her to work carefully in order to avoid shaping the pliable emotions of her patients.  While obviously hurting, Jamie had an unflinching, unalterable quality that she admired.  Not to mention that the intellectual game of cat and mouse they were playing was wildly stimulating.

“I suppose I enjoyed our conversation,” Jamie teased.  “An’ Miss Duncan’s shortbread.”

With an awkward squint that she imagined was meant to be a wink, her patient rose to investigate the current offerings on her tea table.

“Och, petit fours!” he exclaimed with childlike glee and perfect French pronunciation.  “There was a café none too far from my flat in Paris tha’ made these.  I’d often grab some on my way tae the office.”

He returned to the desk with a small plate of the pastries, pushing it towards her as he settled into his seat.

“No, thank you.  I’ve just eaten.”

Like a searchlight, his bright eyes didn’t miss much.  He glanced significantly at the half-empty plastic smoothie container to one side of her desk.  Rather than chide her for her austerity, as Geillis frequently did, he instead made a show of biting into each of the four little squares until there was nothing left but crumbs.  Her stomach muttered in complaint.

“What did you do in Paris?” she asked as he finished his snack with a contented sigh.

“Oh, a wee bit of this and that,” he demurred.  In response to her exasperated look, he continued, “I started out at the Bourse.  Futures, options, arbitrage, that sort of thing.  I have a good ear fer languages, sae from there I went into foreign exchange.  Import export, and the like.”

“You’re a financier?” she asked, somewhat more incredulous than she ought to be.  She wasn’t certain what she had pictured James Fraser doing for a living, but greasing the wheels of capitalism definitely wasn’t it.

“Was,” he corrected.  “I quit an’ came home tae Scotland last year.”

“When your father died,” she guessed.

“Aye.”

She once again had the sense of standing in front of a locked door that Jamie had no intention of opening.  Rather than hammer uselessly on its stubborn surface, she nimbly diverted the conversation sideways.

“What do you do for work now?”

A slow blink followed by a dawning smile indicated he was aware of her stratagem.

“I’m a carpenter.”

It was rare for Claire to be truly surprised by people.  She made a living reading their unspoken cues.  Twice in the same conversation was unheard of.

“A carpenter?” she repeated as though she hadn’t heard him perfectly well the first time.

“Aye.  Like Jesus, ye ken?”

With a quicksilver grin, Jamie launched into a description of his current occupation, which involved the making of reproduction antiques and custom pieces for clients around Scotland.  She realized with a start that she’d read an article about his business in a popular local magazine.  

International financier.  Self-made entrepreneur.  Tall drink of water.  James Fraser had a lot of things going for him.  And yet here he sat, paying her by the hour to listen to him avoid talking about whatever hardship had befallen him.

She mentally composed a list of the topics he was deftly avoiding with his charming anecdotes.  His father’s recent death.  The reason behind a radical change in career.  Living in the city on account of unspoken ‘family obligations’, even though his verbal reminiscence of the Highlands was so poetic it damn near made her cry.  There was something raw just below the surface of his nonchalance, and her innate curiosity cried out to find out what it was.

“You told me last week that your sister, Jenny, insisted you attend counselling.  But you said that you’re handling matters fine on your own.  Can you tell me why your sister believes otherwise?”

It might have been amusing to see such a large man squirm in different circumstances.  His left hand furrowed through his hair, setting the autumn waves on end.  His mouth, so recently relaxed and mobile as he eagerly shared the details of his craft, froze in a pained frown.  She considered whether she had pushed too hard too soon.

“I gave a lot of thought tae what ye said when we parted last week,” Jamie began at last.  “Tae be honest, it haunted me.  Jen kens me better than anyone, an’ while I like tae complain tha’ she meddles where she doesna belong, the truth is she’s truly scared fer me.  An’ even if I dinna agree tha’ my lifestyle is cause fer concern, I owe it tae her tae try tae sort myself out.  I owe her far more than that,” he finished with a rueful shake of his head.

“What kind of lifestyle has your sister so worried?” she probed.

“Whisky, women and song,” he quipped, before adding, “Weel, I canna carry a tune, but twa out of three isna half bad.”

He tried to smile away the awkward tension that descended on the office, the air ripe with unspoken words.  Claire felt disappointment whirlpool in her gut.  Just another charming rake, after all.  It really shouldn’t matter, and yet somehow it did.  More than she dared to admit.

“Yes, well, the road of excess leads to the palace of consequences, ” she sniffed at last, angry at herself for sounding like a schoolmarm.  What a bore she must seem to him, with her regimented behaviour and rigid morals.

Jamie rose abruptly, and for a half-second she imagined he might lunge at her, or storm from the room.   Instead, he spun around to face the door.  Without a word, he untucked his shirt and began to expose his lower back.

Claire was momentarily stunned silent.  Just as she managed to draw a deep enough breath to censure Jamie for his highly inappropriate strip tease, the golden velour of his lower back transformed without warning into a furrowed landscape of scar tissue, ripples and craters left by some massive trauma.  The air left her lungs on a questioning sigh.

“I ken all about consequences, Doctor Beauchamp,” he stated.  “I live with them every moment of my life.”

Her fingers found the knotted skin, surprisingly warm and mobile beneath her touch.  A shiver shimmered over the unmarred muscle of his flanks.

Before she could find any appropriate words of apology, the office door opened and Geillis stuck her head in.  She barked a cough upon seeing Jamie’s state of undress and Claire’s position, leaning across her desk.  Doctor and patient jumped apart like opposing magnets.

“Sae sorry for the interruption, but yer three o’clock is here.  Should I tell her ye’ve been... delayed?”

Jamie muttered an obscenity under his breath which Claire whole-heartedly seconded.  There was no way Geillis wasn’t going to be utterly insufferable about this.

“Mister Fraser was just leaving, Geillis.”

With a lewd wink and a nod, the door closed.

“Look, Jamie...” she began just as he apologized.  “I’m sae sorry, lass.”

They both laughed nervously.  Jamie finished tucking his shirt into his pants and turned to face the desk.

“I hope this willna cause ye any difficulties with Miss Duncan,” he began, eyes wide with concern.

“No more so than usual,” she sighed. “Geillis is a good friend.  She just... doesn’t know when to quit, sometimes,” she explained.

“Sounds jus’ like my sister.  Perhaps we should introduce them.”

She smiled, struggling to find something else to say to move past the moment.  She could hear Geillis and her next patient conversing just outside the door.  There was no time left for subtlety.

“Will I see you again next week, Jamie?” she asked, giving up on finding a more oblique way of phrasing the question that was reverberating through her mind.

Jamie’s bashful smile dipped towards the floor, causing his hair to fall in front of his eyes.

“Aye.  I’ll even keep my clothes on, if ye ask nicely.”

It was that smile, that hair, those eyes, that carried her through the rest of her week, aloft on the anticipation of something utterly forbidden.