#like yes grace is still suspicious of him in the beginning and they have their disagreements but he is just so so fond of her and she is to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stationintern · 1 year

Text

soft hands and glowing eyes (T)

Draco/Harry Morning After, Temporary Amnesia, One incredibly hungry cat This is, really, very silly. I was initially going to have the narrator be an incredibly judgemental, omniscient, nature documentarian. But, the cat's perspective just came naturally. Enjoy this ridiculousness while I get my writing gears going again.

Oh god, you look horrible. Your lips are all cracked and sticking to your teeth, there’s all that crust around your eyes, and, Jesus, the hair. I shouldn’t even be in here. This is sad.

I can’t believe you’re just now waking up at… two-thirty in the afternoon. That’s fine, Harry. I’ll just starve. It’s not like you’ve placed my food container in the back of the highest cupboard, so I am forced to wait as you hobble out of your room every morning. I wish I could have thanked your guest properly last night, but I was so sleepy and didn’t realize he’d left your bedroom door open until after he’d left.

He wasn’t one of your usuals. He was prettier, and pet my head before he went. The other ones never do that. Plus, he gave me the chance to do this–

Thwack.

“Mmmph.”

Wake up. You have things you need to take care of! Me, specifically. Please. Do I have to do it again?

Thwack.

“Fuck, Fluffy.”

Good, you’re alive. I was beginning to worry.

“You’re not going to starve.”

I am, though. I really am going to starve if you don’t get up. Can’t you see how hollow and sunken I am? I must have lost ten pounds last night, and you don’t even care. At least your guest had the good manners to call me pretty and pet me. I should go find him, let him take care of me–

“Oh, but you’re so–”

Okay, fine. You do have quite the knack for petting. I would never tell you this, in case your head gets even bigger. I already have to watch you struggle to pull your undershirts on over that melon.

“How did you get in here last night?”

You ask me so many questions, yet refuse to learn my language. Even if you could understand me, I would never incriminate your guest. I want him to come over again. He smelled like pumpkins. His hands were smooth.

“Wait–”

Looking around your room suspiciously should not be at the top of your priority list right now, boy! Me. I am the priority list. Oh, of course. Now you decide to organize. Actually, you’re making everything worse. I don’t know how you live like this, truly. I may not have to know, since I will no longer be living if you keep getting distracted–

“Yes, Fluffy, I hear you. Just–”

Is my food on top of your desk? On the bookshelf? Under the bed? I don’t think so. Kitchen. The kitchen is where we need to go. Onwards.

“Fuck, who the hell–”

It doesn’t look like you're holding my food container. It looks like you’re holding a shirt. I wish I could hold things. Then I could open that damned cupboard. The entire reason I keep you around is your ability to open that cupboard, and you’re still not doing it. I thought relationships were supposed to be 50-50? You fill my bowl. I grace you with my presence. It’s so simple, and yet you’re holding that shirt and staring at it. What has it been? Two hours? It feels like it.

“Hermione,” you mumble. You always do that right before you go to the telephone. I don’t like the look of this– oh, and there you go. To the telephone, not the cupboard. Cool. Fine.

“Just a minute, Fluffy.”

Just a minute. Then it’ll be another minute, and then another, and soon enough I’ll be belly-up in front of my fossilized food bowl. I hope you’re kind enough to hold a proper funeral for me when I’m gone–

“‘Mione, did you see me leave the reception last night?”

The wedding. God, you wouldn’t stop moaning about it, and I couldn’t even interject. It’s a shame I never got to meet Ginny. Anyone who can make you this miserable must be a hoot.

“Who was I with?”

Do you really not remember your guest? He was quite memorable to me, with his soft hands and pumpkin smell and shiny hair. His eyes glowed. How could you not remember the man with the glowing eyes?

“Oh, you’re joking.”

I’ve learned, after three years of listening in on your phone calls, that when you say “you’re joking,” usually, the person you’re talking to is not joking.

“No. No, no, no. There’s no way– No. Malfoy?”

Malfoy. Is this the man with the glowing eyes? Tell me, Harry, before my premature death, is this the man with the glowing eyes?

“Shit. Fuck. I never– God, and I have to pick up my broom at his shop…”

You’ve placed your hand over your eyes. Never a good sign.

“This is a disaster. Do you think he remembers?”

He probably remembers me. Unlike you-

“Should I just– I don’t know. I don’t know!”

Stop throwing your hands up in the air like that. You almost knocked over the fern. That was going to be my after-dinner activity, and it’s not as fun if you’ve already done it yourself.

“I’m gonna go over– Yeah, no. I’m gonna go over there right now.”

The hell you are. You look like shit, your breath smells worse than mine, and my food bowl is still empty. If we want your guest to come back, we have a lot of work to do before you leave this house.

“Terrified, but It’ll be fine… Yeah, I’ll let you know. Bye. Love you.”

Finally. After three long years– wait, why are you going back in your room? Wait! Wait! I’m coming, wait–

Oh, you arsehole. I’m going to reach my paw so far under this door– I’m gonna– You’re not even ready for the day I figure out how to use a doorknob. You think I’m annoying now? If I just– I’m so close. I’m gonna do it. Watch me. It’ll twist-

Fine, damnit. I’ll shift my schedule around and knock over the fern now. Ugh, but then you’ll have to pick it up. Okay, option two. I’ll lay down in front of my bowl and plot my revenge for later. Yes, I’ll do that. What are you even doing in there?

I could jump up and grab that curtain again. I know you hate that screaming lady. I actually don’t mind her. She always tells me how cute I am in between insulting you–

Oh, welcome back to my domain. You… you actually look quite nice. How’d you get presentable so fast? I like what you’ve done with your hair. You should’ve worn the blue shirt, but black works, I guess. You look fine. At least if I starve, I won’t have to stare at your hideous morning form while I do it.

“I’m sorry, Fluffy. I know you’re hungry.”

Yes! I am! I do not forgive you.

Open the cupboard, open the cupboard, open the–

Beautiful day. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, you’ve brushed your teeth, and you’re finally opening the cupboard. Maybe you’re not so bad. Yes. Open the container. Yes, yes, yes!

Victory, at last. Crunch. I can feel my– crunch– strength returning already. God– crunch, crunch, crunch.

Alright boy, now that our business is done, go speak to our guest. Bring him over for dinner. I’d like to see his glowing eyes again.

“Bye, Fluffy. Wish me luck.”

Good luck, Harry. Good luck.

***

The man with the glowing eyes is here again. He’s in the kitchen. If he reaches behind the kettle, he’ll find that package of treats I’ve been trying to figure out how to open. Maybe he’ll do it for me. Oh! He’s reaching… and he’s reaching… and he’s found them! Oh, that beautiful man. You called him Draco.

Draco with the glowing eyes and the soft hands. I like him.

He’s given me three treats! You always give me a measly one. How is that meant to be a treat? Such a tease. Now he’s walking back to your room, and if I can slip around his legs just so–

“Could you close the door?”

You are such a dickhead, you know that?

“Why?”

Draco asks the important questions. Finally, someone who understands me.

“Fluffy will get in.”

“Is that a problem?”

“She’s a menace. You’ll see.”

Oh shit. He’s picking me up. Yes, behind the ears. Perfect. Harry, he’s perfect.

“She’s so adorable, though. Look at her little face. Awe, you’re not a menace, are you?”

I refuse to answer that question.

“She is.”

“Come on. Can’t she sleep in here? Just one night?”

You’re rolling your eyes. This is no way to respond to the requests of our guest.

“Fine. Fluffy, you’d better be good. No scratching Draco in the morning.”

I would never scratch this fine specimen of a man. How dare you even imply–

“She’ll be good.”

Finally, someone who can speak for me in this house. Yes, set me on the bed, Draco. Your couch is too flat. Did you know that, Harry? Now, I must situate. Oh, this is perfect. If I just set myself on top of both of your legs. Yes, that’s nice.

This is nice.

“I’m glad you came over tonight,” you say, but you’re not talking to me.

“I’m glad, too. I may have to come over more often. Who will defend Fluffy if I’m not here?”

“She defends herself.”

“Let me have my excuses, Potter.”

“Fine. Come over and defend Fluffy whenever you like.”

Yes, Draco. Do that.

If you liked this, feel free to give it some love over on ao3!

#Drarry shortfic #but its mostly about fluffy #drarry #draco x harry

124 notes · View notes

domainedewinter · 2 months

Text

The Price Of Fire 2/4 🔥

In the dragon's den

Summary: After making a deal, Aemond agrees to help the young Lady Martell find answers about her origins, on the sole condition of bringing her with him to the Keep.

Warnings: DUBCON, TYPICAL TARGARYEN INCEST, profanity, innuendo, he/him pronouns, you pronoun, fingering, oral m receiving, oral f receiving, misogyny, toxic behaviour, Dom!Aemond, begging, underage HOTD style, nsfw.. (coming soon, I will indicate the chapters containing smut with a 🔥)

Rating: 18+, MDNI

English is not my first language

The flame that was born in the prince's spirit—and body—is visible in his eyes, something you quickly notice, even through its mere reflection on the blade of his dagger.

"There is a place where you might find answers, but for that, you will have to follow me."

Suspicious, you step away from him, already regretting the warmth against your back, a thought that destabilizes you. Why do you want to stay in the arms of a man as dangerous and unpredictable, holding a dagger before your eyes?

Your logic seems to have disappeared along with your survival instinct because now that you are facing him, you know that no matter where he wants to take you, you will follow him.

"Follow you where?"

"Your Grace. My Prince. Choose what you prefer, but where we are going, you will have to address me as you should have from the beginning." Saying this, he steps closer, placing the flat of the blade under your chin, lifting your face towards his, now in front of you. This allows you to see him more closely, admiring his lilac eye, cold and burning at the same time, as his breath caresses your lips. "Do you think you are capable of doing that, Lady Martell? Is it acceptable if I call you that? Perhaps by the end of the night, we will have a more fitting name to offer you..."

He removes the dagger before you can respond and steps back.

"Yes, my Prince. I will know how to apply the protocol and lower my eyes when we encounter a living soul. I can display good manners, contrary to what you may believe."

"You haven't given me the opportunity to witness that until now."

He walks past you, taking a few steps towards Vhagar and turning his slender, angular face towards you, a smirk forming on his lips as he gestures to the creature. "The Red Keep. That's where we are going. To the king's private library, to be more precise. I will read to you what you need to know and—"

"No need for you to read to me, my prince, I can read. I understand several languages and study philosophy. But if some writings seem incomprehensible to me, I will appeal to your good heart to help me."

The tone of your voice is mocking but playful, not to hurt but to tease, something Aemond is definitely not used to and which ignites a strange and unfamiliar desire within him, coursing through his body like an electric current.

He does not respond but does not lose his smile as he takes your hand—without you resisting this time—and leads you to Vhagar. She is impressive, enormous, and terrifying, yet deep down, the desire to climb on her back overwhelms the urge to flee. "Are you afraid, Lady Martell?"

His tone is still mocking, but he looks at you with an interest and curiosity you do not notice as you are fascinated by the animal.

"It takes a lot to scare me, and I am ready to do much to know who I am." You reply in a breath before letting him help you mount. His presence behind you, securing your ascent, his hands on your hips when you reach the top, and the warmth of his chest against your back when he seats you in front of him, tightening the straps between him and the saddle to keep you safe, all feel too pleasant, almost intoxicating. And this is exactly how he feels too; Aemond is intoxicated by the scent of your long silver hair gently brushing against his face, by your warm and vibrant body between his arms when Vhagar cleaves the air and takes you above the clouds.

The journey is swift, so you savor every moment, trying to silence the obvious voice of your conscience shouting at you not to let yourself be trapped in a castle, far from everyone you know, no one aware of your presence there. The prince could do exactly what he wants with you once you are there; he could even feed you to his dragon if he wished, and yet, you cannot feel worry, only impatience and excitement.

The Keep is as you imagined, mainly because your father described it to you, like many castles or important places. Aemond is courteous in helping you dismount, the dragon keepers casting surprised and curious glances but not daring to question their prince.

Upon arriving at the library he spoke of, you can only look up and scan each shelf, each row of books, a look of wonder on your face, illuminated only by the candlelight.

"There are hundreds of books... it would take a lifetime to read them all."

Seeing you smile as you run your fingers over some of them, Aemond surprises himself by doing it, a quick smile that leaves a slight smirk on his lips as he follows you, always a few steps behind. "What do you want to know?"

There are far too many things you would like to ask, and the night will not last forever, so you focus. "The families of dragon riders and silver-haired people. If I am one of them, if I am the..." you hesitate to pronounce word you have always avoided hearing whispered in the corridors by ill-intentioned mouths, "If I am the bastard of one of them, I would at least like to know their names."

"Hm. Unfortunately, we do not record... unwanted births, but you can get an idea of who might have done this."

As he invites you to sit at a dark wooden table, three large candles illuminating his amused features as he leans over you. "If you are indeed a Targaryen, then it would be a crime in my eyes to have abandoned such a beautiful specimen of our blood," His hand places a book before you before caressing your cheek, never letting his single indigo eye leave you, "to have given to the Martells one of ours, one of those who belongs to us."

This sentence sends strange shivers through your body, your breath catching before you understand what is happening; Aemond quickly leans towards you, his lips touching yours, warmer than you would have thought compared to his coldness.

Your eyes remain wide open, not knowing what to do, mesmerized by what is happening.

Backing away or defending yourself would be an offense to the prince.

Welcoming his surprising advance might encourage him to think you want more.

And despite the different paths before you, you stop thinking, closing your eyes when his long fingers wrap around your hair, just above your nape and grip, just enough to keep your face against his as his kiss deepens, his tongue demanding access to your mouth.

Having forgotten to breathe for too long, you take a breath, opening your mouth just enough to let the air reach you again, but it's not just air that enters, it's Aemond's skillful and precise tongue caressing yours.

And just as hearing him speak High Valyrian gave you strange butterflies in your stomach, feeling his tongue dance with yours ignites a warmth between your legs, the same kind of warmth you have felt after witnessing some rather special and heated evenings in the chambers of Dorne.

As if Aemond could read your thoughts, he pulls back, finally releasing your mouth but keeping your hair in his hand. He speaks so close to your lips that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

“The Dornish are said to have loose morals and greatly enjoy the pleasures of the flesh without the slightest shame. Did they raise you like this? Have you ever tasted the warmth of a man - or even a woman?" His hand slides out as he sits in a chair next to you, turning you to face him as his hand lands where he wants it, right at the bottom of your belly. Your whole body tenses, your gaze sliding to his hand before staring back at him, anticipating his next action. “Have you ever lost your purity?”

This time his hand comes to rest where no one has ever touched you before.

You feel your cheeks blush violently and place your two hands on his chest - of which you feel through the fine leather the Prince's muscles, trained, strong, dangerous - pushing in the hope of making him step back to show him your disagreement on his way of doing things.

“Stop it!” You whisper violently, pushing him away with more force, but the man doesn't move, amused to see your reaction.

“Answer me, and we’ll think together to find out who forced you to live so far from home.”

"No. No I haven't lost my purity, who do you take me for? I’m not a whore!”

You know, however, that in Dorne, there is no shame in indulging in pleasure, but you have never felt the need to touch or be touched, preferring to watch whenever the opportunity presented itself to you.

Aemond Targaryen laughs softly, before placing another kiss, this time on your forehead. This gesture surprises you but you don't move, far too stunned to initiate anything, waiting for his next move. On the beach you had more confidence, but here, it is no longer neutral territory, it is his home, you are within his walls, you allowed yourself to be invited into the dragon's den and followed him without precaution.

“You see me surprised - in the good sense of the word.” he adds without losing his amused look as he puts the chair back correctly to sit properly next to you. But the damage is done; he gave birth to something in you that you cannot silence.

You spend several hours talking together, him teaching you all that you still don't know about royalty, the blood of dragons, and their masters, while you inform the prince with as many details as possible about the night you were entrusted to the Martells.

Preferring to avoid prying eyes and ears, Aemond eventually takes you to his quarters; a vast room where the fire purrs in the fireplace, illuminating the space with an orange glow.

Your steps would like to be hesitant, but you do not allow yourself the slightest visible weakness, entering with your head held high while he slips behind you. It is only when the door to his room closes that you turn around, swallowing hard as you look at him. His gaze has changed; it resembles more the predator you met on the beach than the patient man who instructed you tonight in the library.

"I should go back... the night is already well advanced, and I don't think I can provide any more information to our reflection."

He nods, his hands behind his back as he approaches. And with each step he takes towards you, you have the presence of mind to take one back, wanting to keep as much distance as possible between you two.

But this sense of security is illusory, you realize when the back of your knees meets a surface not so hard and you fall seated on one of the sofas.

"Do I frighten you, little girl?"

You want to tell him that you are not frightened and, even less, his little girl, but the words remain stuck in your throat, as does your breath. You are not afraid of him in a literal sense; it is something far worse than that: an attraction, a need to taste his lips, to touch his skin, to know his thoughts, and, when he is so insufferable, to silence him with your mouth on his.

Perhaps he reads your thoughts again because, narrowing his eye slightly, he smiles and leans over you, placing his hands on the back of the sofa, trapping you between it and his body, then places his lips on yours again.

The kiss is short but warm, calling for more.

“You’ve probably heard a lot of things about us, about our family. You are well aware that our marriages remain – as much as possible – within the family, that we keep the blood pure, for our perfect lineage.”

“Yes” you whisper under your breath as he doesn’t even pull away, speaking against your mouth, brushing it, pulling back just enough to look at your beautiful eyes that captivate him a little more with each second he spends admiring them.

“If you are truly one of us and, from what I can already see from your features, body and temper, seems to me the only truth, then that means that you have to return to the Targaryens. That you should be one of us and, since I’m the one who found you, don’t you think I should be the one to claim you?”

Claim you.

His words paralyze you and warm you at the same time, a shiver running through your body whose chest rises and falls to the rhythm of your newfound breath, which accelerates at this simple thought.

“I know what they say about those who raised you; unbowed, unbent, unbroken.. just like Targaryen women can have a fiery temperament but, you know, I have tamed the greatest and most terrifying of dragons, no doubt I will succeed in tamming your fire.”

Anticipating your reaction, when you try to get up to get out of his grip and escape, Aemond places his knee on the sofa, between your legs, forcing you to stay under him and grabs your hair with one hand, tangling his fingers harshly in your silver locks before throwing himself on your mouth, devouring you with a kiss more passionate than you ever dreamed of receiving. You feel him smile against your mouth as he allows you to breathe again and wish his smile didn't have that effect on you.

His other hand slides between your legs and, over the fabric of your loose Dornish pants, begins to caress you with his fingertips, initiating an electric shock of desire that immediately tightens your stomach and makes your cheeks burn.

“Since this little precious thing is still pure and untouched, I should make it mine to ensure that no other man, unworthy of you, ever takes possession of it.”

You arch under the delicious sensation and the promise of belonging to this man so sure of himself, wanting to make you his.

“I...I can’t.” You try to articulate, pressing your forehead to his before staring at him, trying to look sure of yourself when only desire shines in your clear eyes. “If I let you take this from me, my father will never be able to mary me, I will be wasted, impure.”

His grip tightens in your hair to the point of making you yelp in pain, your brows furrowing in fear and surprise.

“You will never be impure for having been touched by a dragon... And you are much more naive than I thought if you imagine that I am going to let you leave without having tasted you, without having made you mine and above all,” he grabs your face between his fingers, forcing you to look up at him, “do you think I have no words and would leave you after that? If I want your body tonight, it’s to claim it for life.”

You feel your body tremble under his as his fingers begin a dance between your legs which makes you moan softly, your arms coming to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you, just long enough for an intense kiss as he straightens up, standing in front of you as he removes his leather tunic, revealing a perfectly sculpted, lean and muscular torso that your fingers instantly want to roam over.

He sees how you devour him with your eyes and smirks again.

“Do you like what you see, my dear? How unfair it is to look without giving. Get up."

Since you hate being ordered around, you just stare at him for a moment, deliberately causing the Prince to huff with envy the second you stand up to him, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to him, standing at your turn. “Obeying is not your strong point, we’re going to have to work on that.”

“I’m not easy to lead, if you want to make me yours, you’ll have to be convincing.”

He knows that you are of his blood, he senses it in your warmth but especially in your temperament; you could be his sister, with the provocative side of Aegon and the fearless side of himself. “Don’t underestimate me, pretty flame, I will be happy to tame you..”

With a quick movement, he reverses the roles, positioning himself with his back to the sofa and removing what remains of his clothes before sitting down, his pretty lilac eye still fixed on you. “Take off your clothes, and don’t keep me waiting, otherwise my hands will find their way to your pretty white skin to make it blush.”

More simple words and yet they only increase the tension and wetness between your legs, forcing your thighs to clench together in hopes of quenching the urge.

A vain hope.

Wanting to trap him at his own game, you slowly undo the fabric at the top of your tunic, revealing one shoulder, then the other, sliding the fabric up your arm before letting it fall to your waist, offering his eye envious of your upper body, your breast and your stomach.

You see with amusement and pride his manhood, harder than ever, demanding attention and reacting instantly to the sight of your body which he finds inexorably perfect.

Aemond resists the urge to touch you, just long enough to allow you to fully entertain yourself, which you do far too slowly for his liking. Then his will disappears and he grabs the waistband of your loose pants, quickly opening it and making the fabric fall to your ankles, which you quickly discard, now completely naked in front of him.

He denies you any modesty as he looks at you, his gaze creating a burning fire wherever it lands on you, but you let him do until he grabs you by the waist and brings you to him, astride his lap.

A gasp of surprise and apprehension escapes you but soon, his hand caresses your hip, slowly, possessively. His other hand finding the path he had initially taken a few minutes earlier. You feel him caress your slit, several times while his thumb circles around your pearl of pleasure. You bite your lips to try to control yourself but after such a short few minutes, you find yourself unable to control the slight movements of your body which seek to meet Aemond's hand, breathless.

“Don’t try to hide from me the pretty melody I’m going to make you sing.” He orders you gently, an order to which you do not object this time, giving free rein to the murmurs that the pleasure he offers you gives rise to. His finger presses at the entrance to your body, several times, penetrating you as you cling to his shoulders, lowering yourself a little on him, so close to his manhood that, when you realize it, you jump slightly for fear of losing control.

“Easy, I won’t take you until I hear you cum first.”

The timbre of his voice is sufficient, proud, but the pleasure he gives you justifies his pride to the point where you don't even respond to him, feeling the characteristic pressure of pleasure forming in the lower part of your belly, stronger and stronger as his finger curls inside you to caress then relentlessly hammer this sweet spot that makes you see stars.

His other hand presses against your lower back, accentuating your arch as you lose control of your body.

“Aemond..Aem-”

“I know, I have you, little flame, give me what I want, soak my fingers with your pleasure to give me the reward of tasting you.”

It doesn't take much more for you to cum, tightening your velvet walls, hot and soaked on his finger as his thumb caresses you at a frantic pace.

Your foreheads instinctively press together and as your eyes close, he could swear he’s seen that expression on a woman’s face before.

Forehead pressed to that of the man she loves. Soothed. Confident.

He puts this thought in a small corner of his mind, determined to explore this theory, but not now.

He rides your orgasm until it becomes too much and then gently withdraws his finger, sucking it before your amazed eyes.

“Next time, I will drink directly between your legs, and you will know why only my name will pass your lips.”

Your eyes shine and the desire is instantly reborn when you hear it. Your hands wander over his chest, knowing what is likely to happen now, welcoming his hands on your hips without flinching then, slowly you decide to play your role in your lovemaking and take matters into your own hands, sliding your soaked slit along his manhood, which does not than make him groan with envy. Once again you feel the pleasure coming over you every time his cock comes to caress your pearl and the only thing you have in mind is to feel him slipping into you.

“I wanted to give you a little break but it seems that you are stronger than I imagined.”

With a devouring kiss, he conquers your mouth before adding; “Before the moon sets, you will be mine.”

#aemond smut #house targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #aemond x oc #Targaryen smut #smut

24 notes · View notes

lyon-amore · 1 year

Text

The half of me Chapter 22

Chapter 21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The police had left a while ago with the keys to the store, I just hope it's not true that the crime scene was there.

I had opened the chat with Carter, but I still haven't dared to talk to him. I'm afraid of his reaction, what can he tell me, will he get mad at me again? I inhale slowly, preparing myself to begin a new interrogation. I put the call command into Nymos's chat, and the second Jake answers. "MC, just now he was going to call you!" Jake exclaims nervously "We need to talk about-" "Can it be later?" I ask, also nervous "I still have to talk to Carter." Silence falls while I wait for his response.

Finally, I hear him exhale heavily, along with a small growl. I know it's important, but I want to rule out Carter first or find out if he knows anything about this Armando Serrano. The name doesn't ring a bell, I don't think Daliah ever mentioned him, but whoever he is, I have to know if he was the killer. Luckily, the list of suspects is getting smaller and smaller, but I'm running out of ideas on who to point out. “Alright” Jake finally says “. I think it can wait, since it is not a lead that has to do with the murder." Well then" I smile relieved, if Jake thinks so, then I'll be calm “, here we go." "Good luck." “Thank you." I decide to write to him, a little fearful. I can see how my fingers are shaking. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC Carter? I'd like to talk to you about Daliah

----Carter has connected----

Carter You do know that I accused you of murdering her, right?

MC Yeah

Carter So why are you talking to me? I think you shouldn't, I might get more suspicious of you, you know? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I do not like his attitude" says Jake ". Try not to get nervous, it could be used against you." "Yeah…" I settle better on the bed, running my tongue over my lips. God… I don't want for a word to seem suspicious. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC I know But I think that after what I'm going to show you, you're going to talk to me

Carter The fact that?

MC Tell me, was your relationship good?

Carter You saw how I acted in the store Clearly, I had a little problem with her But she was my friend

MC I wouldn't say small ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“MC I know you are upset with him, but be careful how you say things” Jake warns me, “, because if I have to intervene in the conversation to stop him, I will do it." "Yeah, sorry, it's just..." I squeeze the phone hard. It bothers me that Carter lied that he didn't hear the song, even if he didn't know it, he might not have lied. He accused me of murdering her. I can't help but be upset. "I know" I hear him sigh ", I am mad at him too." I smile a little when I hear him worry about me. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC [Entry number ####.PDF] ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although it's not much of a text, Carter takes time to answer me. I think he must be thinking about how I got this and believing that I'm really accusing him of being Daliah's killer because of his words. Out of fear that he might also tell Jane that they slept together.

But I wouldn't be able to tell her. It's better not to get involved in other people's relationships so that the full weight of the blame doesn't fall on me. They have to fix it themselves. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Carter It was a mistake We were talking, we were just chatting One thing led to another and I kissed her I don't know why, really

MC You don't kiss another person just because you want to

Carter I was wrong period I just wanted to forget about my problems

MC Well, it went wrong for you Daliah liked the idea of telling Jane about it.

Carter Yes and I was afraid that she would Jane is someone amazing I didn't think someone like her could date someone like me But Daliah...

MC I know you've known each other for a long time Even before Grace

Carter Yeah We went to school together But she wasn't like that Something changed her

MC I know I'm finding out a lot about her that I had no idea

Carter One thing Although we are talking calmly, I have not changed my mind with you You and Daliah had a strong bond in that you told each other everything, so I can't trust you 100%.

MC Understood…

Carter That's all? Do you think I murdered Daliah because she could tell Jane what happened?

MC Well… She can be killed for many things

Carter I take care of three little brothers Do you think I should go to jail?

MC Well… No, I don’t think so…

Carter I remember you always going after Daliah, worried about her Always behind, always a shadow Everybody praised you two You two were the sensation of Rosenschwarz There was nothing else that everyone was talking about But I don't know who got more attention If the young savior of her sister or the little saved

MC Daliah and I never cared about that We only wanted to be together

Carter Until at some point, she took the reins from her and everyone adored her

MC But I don't see it weird She was special

Carter Yes she was But she left you behind, didn't she? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She left me behind? I don't remember it that way. It could be that Daliah had her friends, but we always had time to be together, even if I didn't fit in with that popularity of hers. I didn't care as long as I had her.

Insinuating that I could be jealous of her because she learned to be able to handle it, I can't accept it. I was proud of her. Carter is wrong. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC No, she never left me

Carter Oh, come on She'd go to Colville, do theater at the high school People would say hello to her when you were together, I've seen it I can't believe you weren't jealous of her, even if it was just a little bit. And that you wanted to end it all

MC NO! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I also scream outside the phone, with the whole body shaking. I feel my breathing getting out of control, what if I killed her and I don't remember? What if it is? "MC, breathe easy." I manage to hear Jake. "Jake-" "He wants to confuse you" he says quietly and I try to focus on his voice ", divert the subject before you can say something you do not want to." I nod, leaving my phone on the bed for a moment to dry my hands from the cold sweat. I must be careful not to get upset and say something that seems suspicious to him. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC Let's talk about Armando Serrano

Carter How do you know that name?

MC He is a moneylender, right? Or at least he is in Evergreed

Carter Tell me how you know that and we'll talk

MC OK… [Capture+_01-11-15-04-17-94] ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wait until he finishes reading, trying to relax after what happened. I know Jake is on the lookout for anything, in case I get nervous or Carter says something that could hurt me. I'm secure. Safe. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Carter Ok, read

MC Can you tell me what this has to do with Daliah?

Carter Well, she told me that someone introduced him to her She didn't tell me who, but Armando promised her that she would help her get into the world of cinema because he had contacts

MC And she agreed?

Carter Let's say she loved the idea and agreed I think she told me that it went when she was eighteen

MC But did she know him from before?

Carter Yes, that's what she told me Because she knew the person who introduced him to her

MC What else did he tell you?

Carter She told me that she worked as his secretary or something She wanted to earn some money and know the contacts he had But that the more time passed, the more afraid she was of him But she couldn't back down anymore when it passed So she took care of the accounts of everyone who asked him for money.

MC And how come she didn't find out that you were asking him for money if she took care of it?

Carter I use a fake name So the day she saw me get out of the car, was the day I had a meeting with him because I couldn't pay him back. It was… They left me a little deaf in my right ear I almost have a hard time hearing something

MC So… That you didn't know Britney's song is a lie?

Carter Well, it's partly true I'm not a fan of her But I don't remember hearing it well, really just a whisper But I was afraid to admit that I can't hear well in one ear Maybe that would give me problems with Armando…

MC Because snitches can have problems with it...

Carter And for my brothers, I can't do it I do everything for them, there is not a day that I make an effort because they have a good life Here the people are nice, but I can't always live on charity I don't want them to learn this...

MC But it's not bad to ask for help when you need it Carter, I think you need to talk to Jane and everything that's going on

Carter And that she left me because of Daliah?

MC Well, I prefer not to get into that topic But you can't let your pride get the better of you and you might lose her because you don't want her to help you She would be delighted to help you, I'm sure, she loves you very much

Carter It's easy for you You don't have anyone who loves you, you don't know the fear of hurting the person you love ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I think you are wrong.” Jake says and I blink. For a moment I forgot that he was on the other end of the line. “What is he wrong about? “ "You do have someone who loves you." I smile listening to his words. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC But if you don't try, you may never know

Carter Forget it I can't tell her I don't want to put her in danger

MC And what will you do? Spend your whole life having to owe money to Serrano?

Carter My life, my decisions, my money I can't back out now, I've already done it

MC But Carter! That maybe end your life!

Carter If in this way I can make my brothers live having what they need, I will do it Daliah was worried about me too, and you know what I told her? Why didn't she apply her words if she wanted to convince me so much? She was also involved and she didn’t leave him out of fear, she knew perfectly well what she was getting into Maybe you should tell the police about him, don't you think? Or you can't because you're afraid?

MC I will as soon as there is evidence against him

Carter Ha! Good luck with that

----Carter has disconnected---- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I throw myself on the bed, lying down. I haven't been able to convince Carter that he has to do the right thing. I thought he was going to get it like with Jane or Mason, but apparently his pride is stronger than Mason himself. Who knew? “MC, do you remember what Mike said about Colville? “ I hear Jake ask me, though I don't answer. I'm too focused on thinking about how Daliah met someone like Armando Serrano “Maybe that is why she did not want to go back to Colville, something happened with that man.“ I slowly sit up in bed, picking up my phone again. I push my hair back and swallow hard. "He said that she didn't remember what had happened…" "You should listen to Carter and tell the police about Serrano" I try to calm down, I'm too terrified ", you don't have to tell them that you know who he is from her entries, just say that you know from Carter and Seo-ah." "But then it would get them into trouble..." "Is not it more important to know who killed your sister?" "Yes, but without getting the rest in trouble." "I understand" he says calmly and something in this conversation reminds me of when he told me that nothing was going to happen to my friends under the threats of the man without a face, from Richy ", but if this is going to put you in danger for Being Daliah's sister, I am not willing that just because of other people do not dare to tell the truth." "Jake, you've met Seo-ah yourself, you've seen that she's a good girl" little by little my voice grows more powerful "I can't say that she told me! And I can't for Carter either! H has his little brothers!" "I am not telling you to accuse him, but to give them a new clue" Although he seems calm, it's as if her voice was harder. A firmer tone than mine ". Seo-ah did not tell you any names, but Carter did, just let them pull those strings together and question him." I want to be able to tell him that he's right, that it's the right thing to do. Armando Serrano was Daliah's boss, he is one more on the list of suspects. But what would happen to Seo-ah, Carter and Mike? Because if I remember correctly, Serrano knows about the existence of MC, about that MC from Evergreed, what would happen to him if I tell the truth? And what would happen to me? "And what about my security?" "The police are watching you, I do not think anything will happen to you" I hear him sigh, although he doesn't sound very convinced ", perhaps even Serrano can give them information that we do not know." "Or I can talk to him-" "No" he says sharply ", I will never let you talk to him." I bite the inside of my cheek. I don't know what to do… Put my friends in danger or decide on my own to talk to Serrano? But I know how it ended the last time I did something that stupid, Jake almost beat the crap out of Mike. This time it's different. There is a knock on the door and I get up with my phone in my hand. I look through the peephole and frown, curious. “It's the police.” I tell to Jake. "What are they doing here?" He asks me worried "Wasn't it that they were going to investigate your store?" "Maybe they found something" they call again and I sigh ". I'll call you later." "Alright... I still have something important to tell you, do not forget it." "I don't." I squeeze my eyes shut. Suddenly everything scares me ". I'll call you soon." I hang up and open the door. One of the policemen was Otis Lang, the same one who waited on me as a child and who called me when they found Daliah's body. "MC Gardner?" the policeman next door asks me, while Mr. Lang looked at me sadly. "Yes, it's me." It's strange that he spoke to me this way, they knew perfectly well who he was "Have you found something?" "We want you to accompany us to the police station as a suspect in the murder of Daliah Gardner." "What?!" I exclaim as the policeman puts the handcuffs on me "But I've already talked to Elliot! I have told everything I know! Mister Lang! Please! Say something!" "Don't be scared, MC" he tells me calmly ", you'll see how everything was a mistake on the part of the forensics." Don't be scared? They are handcuffing me! They are accusing me of murder against my sister! With what evidence?! Why?! I don't understand!

On the street everyone looks at me and starts to take out their phones, taking photos. Meanwhile, the police try to keep me hidden. They put me in the back seat and I don't take my eyes off my handcuffed hands. There has to be a mistake right? I can't be the killer! I remember everything perfectly from that night! I was in my house! “This is definitely what I call a real bitch” Daliah tells me, appearing next to me in an orange jumpsuit. From prison "What do you think they have found?" "And what do I know?! I don't even know what's going on!" “I bet a precious lock of my beautiful hair." "I cleaned it all up. How is something of you going to stay in that place?" “Careful what you say now, MC” Daliah warns me “, that doesn't sound very good in front of the police." I look nervously at the police officers. Damn.

I try to stay calm when I'm in the interrogation room, for the second time in the same day. It can't be true… This is a nightmare. Elliot and Otis walk into the room and sit down, folder in hand. Elliot's look is concerned, while Otis's is calmer. "What have they found?" I ask, looking away. I feel tired. “We found traces of saliva belonging to Daliah on the sofa.” Otis replies, speaking more calmly. "So... is it true?" I look at them and I don't know whether to cry or get angry "Was that the crime scene all this time?" “For the record, the arrest warrant is for questioning only, nothing more” Elliot tells me ". We're just going to ask you a few questions again, shall we?" I nod slowly. I must collaborate calmly. It's better not to get upset. "Okay" he clears his throat and begins ". On September 4, according to the second autopsy, the murder took place at eleven o'clock at night" I look at Elliot surprised. It can't be... It can't be that time ". They manipulated the corpse in such a way that her death seemed much later than two in the morning" I hold my breath, reliving what happened that day ". There are no traces of blood, so we assume that the ‘One less’ was not in the same store, to prevent it from being known that this was the scene of the crime. The water erased any trace of footprints" he pauses, taking a breath ". All the evidence as to who could have sent her the clippings, the doll, it has your fingerprints on it." "So, since the murder was at the same time that Daliah and I had a talk, I'm accused as a suspect because it wouldn't be possible to have that conversation." I see how they shift a little in their seat at my words. So I didn't talk to Daliah. They made me believe that he had done it. It turns my stomach that someone did that. "We are not the ones who have decided to arrest you" Otis speaks to me now, explaining the situation ", they want to rule you out as a suspect after all the evidence and several testimonies." Evidence... Testimonials... Maybe it's true and I'm going crazy with all this. I see the ghost of Daliah. Perhaps because of the guilt of having killed her? I cover my eyes, tired. I was happy… I was being happy. Why did I have to go back? Why didn't I stay in Evergreed investigating with Jake? "MC, don't worry, I'll help you with this" I see how Elliot wants to stretch out his hand to me, but he controls himself because he knows that it would be against the law. He is interrogating a suspect. He has to do his job ". Unfortunately, the policemen who were protecting you saw how you vandalized the store the same night as Daliah's funeral and we have seen you clean it up, they have clearly suspected you." "Apparently I can't get mad either..." "I'm sorry-" I wave my hand for him to stop talking. I don't want to hear his apologies. He has questioned me this morning. He knows perfectly well that it wasn't me. "Is there any reason you might want to hurt your sister?" Otis asks me and little by little I get angry. "Daliah was always there for me" I reply, clenching my fists ", maybe she wasn't perfect, but she made sure I was okay, just like I was with her. She would never have hurt me in any way nor would I have hurt her, and if I did, I wouldn't have wanted to kill her." I see Elliot look at me nervously, but I take it for what happened between us. Elliot's phone rings and he gets up to answer it, walking out of the room.

A couple of minutes later he enters the room, placing the phone on the table. "Okay, is done." he says after hitting the speaker button. "That is how I like it, obedient." says the distorted voice, with a touch of fury. I sit up in my chair as I recognize him. No matter the distortion, I know it's Jake. "I just hope you do not fail in my deal." Deal? what deal? I look at Elliot in confusion, but he looks away. "Calm down, I'm going to comply" Elliot replies ". Speak, tell me what you have to tell us. "First I want to make sure the detainee is okay." Jake orders. Elliot nods at me, as if he's giving me permission to speak. "Yeah, I…" I swallow, hoping my nervous voice won't give me away "I'm fine."

"Good, I am glad." I imagine him smiling, calm ". You have arrested the wrong person, and I have got a lead on someone much more suspicious." I hold my breath, hoping he doesn't name Seo-ah or Carter about where he got the information from. "Well?" I notice Elliot upset. He doesn't seem to like this call too much "Are you going to tell us who to ask?" "His name is Armando Serrano" I mentally pray that he doesn't say anything more about those involved except Daliah ". Miss MC Gardner's sister worked for him as her bookkeeper." I sigh in relief, avoiding a laugh when I hear the 'miss'. "The big shot from Colville?" Otis asks him "How did Daliah get hinm to hire her?" "That is what you will have to ask him and… About his business." "And where did you get this information from?" Elliot asks, I see that he's tense, he's clenching his hands a lot. "Do wizards reveal their secrets?" I roll my eyes. He's getting his ego out "or do me want to keep your secret safe? I am sure you are not interested right now that she might know." If what he says has to do with how important he has found, I hope he doesn't keep it from me later. I need to know what he knows about Elliot and if it's something that might make him suspicious as a murderer and he's afraid it will happen. "And how is it that after everything you has put her through, you comes back to help Miss Gardner?" I look at Elliot who keeps his eyes on his phone, furious. I look away, not wanting to get in the middle of them. It's like they're facing each other right now. "Because I will always be there when she need it the most." my heart races when I hear him speak. My cheeks burn with embarrassment. He's supposed to be a criminal for the police and he's referring to me as someone special. Not that it bothers me, but I do worry about him and that maybe they can use it against him. “I think we're getting a little off topic, Mister Bloomgate” Otis reminds him, feeling awkward ". We must continue with the investigation" he looks at me with a smile ". We owe her an apology, this has all been because of the testimonies and evidence obtained, we really didn't want to arrest her like that." "But you have done it" I look nervously at my phone. Jake is raging at the cops ", you have arrested an innocent person, that brings consequences to your position." “We were doing our job” Elliot replies “. I don't know if you know what that is." "Well, to me I think you are doing it wrong if you do not know who to accuse correctly." “Thanks for helping me” I reply quickly, thinking this could end in a fight over the phone “. I appreciate it." I hear him chuckle, like my voice has calmed him down. I don't want to hear him like this, he sounds so… far away. "My pleasure, Miss Gardner" he says softly ". Good luck with mister Serrano." And he hangs up.

They escort me out of the police station and I meet my parents. My mother hugs me, crying. Then my father. I hug them back, feeling visible to my mother again. She then breaks away and approaches Elliot, slapping him across the face. "You..." she points at him accusingly "How dare you stop my little girl?! Accuse her of being the murderer of her sister?!" "Fiona, let him" my father separates her from him ", he only does his job." "Accusing my little girl!" Elliot is unable to look at my mother, he feels guilty for what happened. My mother approaches me, taking my arm carefully, to get me out of the place. People look at me as we approach my parents' car. I rub my wrists still feeling the handcuffs. I want to be able to sleep until the next morning, I can't get on with today.

*Jake POV*

It was when she hung up that I continued searching for the clues. I did not think the arrest was going to happen. I was also rereading the conversation that she had had with Carter. The boy had given up in to any offer of help, despite MC's advice. Nothing good comes out of having to borrow money from someone you know may even kill you. And he paid the price with his hearing. As desperate as you are, he should not have gotten into trouble.

But what will I know? If I also made my mistakes.

I was staying focused until I got a text from Mike. A message that I did not think would scare me when I read it. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Hey Jake! This is not good! www.rosenschwarz.com/arrested_mc_gardner_ for...

Jake How did they arrest her?! Do you know the details?!

Mike No It doesn’t put anything, only that they have seen her leaving her house with the police I've been looking and there are photos of the arrest

Jake One moment! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I look on social media and see that Elliot is with her. I take it upon myself to hack knowing that I risk being detected and I delete every photo I find of her being detained on social media. I do not want anyone to see her that way, like she is a criminal. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Dude! What happened?

Jake MC told me that the store was suspected to have been the scene of the crime. And she took it upon herself to clean it all up without knowing it.

Mike Fuck Fuck, fuck She’s fucked

Jake Not yet. I can still help her.

Mike What will you do? Are you going to plant in Rosenschwarz?

Jake No, it would be risky and they could separate us.

Mike So what will you do?

Jake What I do best. I am going to fix this. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I get Elliot's number and decide to call him. Unfortunately, he does not have Nymos chat, if he did, I would use the call command. I might take a chance that he can track me down and take me away from MC forever. "Wait" I look at the last capture and smile ". It may be a little bad, but I think it could work." If Elliot cares about MC, he probably does not want her to know that it was Daliah who told him where I was because he knows she would never forgive him. I prepare the voice modulator and call.

Elliot is late to answer, but when he does, I feel like I'd love to be able to tell him everything he wanted to say for being rude to her. "Yes? Who is?" “Someone who has learned that you has made a grave mistake." "Ah, so it's you" his annoyed tone takes away my need for introductions ", the guy who ruined MC's life." "And you are the one who used her sister as if she were a substitute of MC like a doll." I say annoyed now, remembering his and Daliah's conversation. I hear him make an annoyed sound. "Do you know that I can go to locate you right now?" "You will not" I answer with a smile ", because then, I will reveal your secret to MC and I am sure you do not want that." "What is he talking about?" I type quickly and hit enter. “Look at your chat, Agent Bloomgate." I wait a moment and listen to him release a curse. "How did you get this?" He asks quite annoyed "Do you know that getting this is illegal? I could arrest you-" "I have information about a possible suspect in the death of Daliah Gardner" I stop him, taking a big risk ", if you do not want all the people of Rosenschwarz to think that you killed her because she left you for using her as a toy, then cooperate." I wait again. If he is worried about what MC thinks of him, then he will agree. "Okay, no tracking you" he says finally ". Tell me-" "Not until I check that she iss okay," I stop him again, this time much more annoyed ". Take the cell phone where they are interrogating her and put the speakerphone on." "You are asking too much." "And I do not like to be impatient." He lets out a grunt, with a little 'of course'. During the conversation I cannot help but feel furious with Elliot Bloomgate, it is as if he wanted to leave me for the bad guy and he as the man capable of helping MC, when he has arrested her the same day that she had already been interrogated. I almost said that MC and I are together when Elliot has said that I have returned after everything that has happened because of me. I must not let them put her in the crosshairs of the police and the FBI again or she will be in trouble again. Luckily, I have managed to give them the name of Armando Serrano, without putting Seo-ah and Carter in the middle. Although I suppose that at some point, Serrano will want to know how they managed to guess that he and Daliah knew each other. Maybe he will even get MC in trouble. "Shit…" I mumble "I hope he does not suspect it."

At nightfall, I decide to use the call command to find out how MC is, she sent me a message saying that she would be with her parents after leaving the police station. I prefer that she calm down with her family after what happened, she needs it after this false accusation against her. "Hi Jake." I hear her in a tired, exhausted voice. "Hello, MC" I ask, feeling hurt when listening to her ", how are you, love?" She lets out a laugh, though it does not seem like it is because I called her that. “It's like I’m in a nightmare that I never going to get over” she replies. I notice that the voice is hoarse from crying perhaps? ". I'm still at my parents' house, my mother wanted me to stay at least for one night." "How is she?" "Perfectly after I slapped Elliot for arrest me" I let out a laugh, I would have liked to see it ". At least it makes me happy to see that she is little by little herself, despite the pain of losing Daliah." "Let' us hope she does not get arrested for assaulting a law enforcement officer." I teased. This time she really laughs “By the way” she clears her throat “, thanks for not mentioning that you got the information from Carter and Seo-ah." "I knew youwould be mad if I did it." I hear her make a sound, like she agrees with my words. "Jake, what deal did you talk to Elliot about?" Her voice sounds worried "Please! Don't tell me it's about giving yourself up again!" "No, that is not in my plans since last night" I send her a message with the wink smiley and I hear how she makes a sound in her throat, as if embarrassed ". It is something that is going to stay between him and me for the moment. Elliot knows what's at stake." I hear her thinking, doubting me. If I tell her now that Daliah was the one who ratted me out to the police and the FBI, I do not think she will stand it. She has suffered enough for today. Until the situation calms down, I do not think another painful secret will be good. "Another thong, Jake, more has been learned about Daliah's murder" I listen carefully to her words ". The last time I spoke to her, she was quite possibly already dead." "How do you say?" "The killer must have gotten the phone from her before killing her, probably under threat" I nod, thinking about the situation. "Are you sure?" "Yes, at least, according to the time of the forensics, it was at that same time..." "They wanted to give her an alibi about why she did not meet with you" I comment, looking at her and Daliah's chat room "Does anyone know anything else about her cell phone?" "They're probably looking at it right now." I put my hand to my hair, ruffling it. I wish I could have that cell phone in my hands instead of the police, it would be easy for me to get into it without feeling like they could control any access to it. I finally get a notice that it has found a new clue. It does not take me long to send it to MC. “Okay, let's see.” I hear her say, a little calmer “Ralph and Daliah?" "Something weird?" “No, it's just that Ralph isn't much of a talker over texts." "Then let us see what they say." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daliah Ralph, Armando asked me if you took money from the safe.

----Ralph has connected----

Ralph Nope But And if it were like that? 🤔

Daliah That I would have problems because I let you into the office

Ralph Nah. I did not take a cent

Daliah Sure? I mean I know that I saw you buying drugs… That's why you steal from your father

Ralph My father? I would never call him that

Daliah I don't think Grace likes what you're doing

Ralph Oh Grace... I'm sure she already knows As if I hadn't ever been late to the academy because Iwas high

Daliah … I can't believe it What if the academy found out?

Ralph Stop

Daliah ?

Ralph You're going to use those imitation tricks, aren't you?

Daliah I don't know what you mean

Ralph Do me a favor and do what you always do Spread your legs for Armando, give him a smile, moan a little and make him forget about money

Daliah YOU KNOW PERFECTLY I DON'T DO THAT WITH YOUR FATHER!

Ralph STOP CALLING THAT MAN 'MY FATHER'! Fuck! You've already screwed up my mood

Daliah Can't I worry about you?

Ralph No, you can't You can't worry about me

Daliah Is it for Armando? Does he bother you that he pays more attention to me than to you?

Ralph Look Just keep quiet about me buying some dope I need something to inspire me OK?

Daliah Ralph...

Ralph Your changes are fun First you play sweet, then you play threatening But to me you make me laugh Others will be afraid of you, but you make me laugh in particular

Daliah Ok, got it But do we talk more calmly about this? I don't want to lose my job, you know?

Ralph Poor of you then Lie as you always do You are used to lying

----Ralph has disconnected---- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wait for MC to finish reading. So Ralph is Armando Serrano's son? I suppose that by hating him he will not even want to use his last name. "It's strange to read Ralph like this" I hear MC commenting ", he seems like a quiet boy." "Quiet people have a limit if they are bothered" I say, although I am also surprised after reading the chats between them ". This could cause problems between father and son." "Why would she get involved in these issues?" I hear her exhale heavily "Why did she have to do these things?" "Ralph said she was imitating someone" I read the words carefully "Who exactly?" “I have no idea." I hear her yawn and laugh. "Tired?" "I haven't rested since last night." "I see…" I smile as I deepen my voice a bit. I hear her make a surprised sound, like she is realized what I said. I laugh and hear her complain, telling me that is not it. I cannot help but imagine her safely covering her face, blushing. “You shouldn't have said that, Jake.” I can hear the annoyance in her voice. "Because?" "Well, because we are in a serious conversation" I nod as I make a sound in my throat ", you can't do this to me, I want to think of our next clue." "Alright" I sigh, lying down on the bed. The pillow still smells like her. I closed my eyes, smiling ". But like I said, I want to take advantage of any moment with you." "And does it have to be at night?" “It is the quietest moment we have." She chuckles and I hear the sound of sheets. "Can you stay on the phone again until I fall asleep?" She asks me, with a soft voice "Tomorrow we'll continue with this conversation" I am going to say something, but she stops me ". The conversation about Ralph and Daliah." "That is what I was going to say." Her laugh is like a soft melody. It makes me feel a nice chill through my body ". Good night, love." "Good night, Jake." I get up and go back to investigate the information about the supposed son of Krebs, listening in the background to the soft breathing of MC.

I hope the sound of the keys does not bother her too much.

Chapter 23

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfic #duskwood everbyte #everbyte #everbyte studio

18 notes · View notes

asoulwithadream · 1 year

Text

Analysing some parts of Prince's "The Beautiful Ones" because they're pirating suspiciously pirately....

I have way too much free time........

Is it him or is it me?

This refers to Blackbeard/Ed: where Ed is unsure, mainly because of his own thoughts and Izzy's influence, what he's supposed to be. Perhaps he was sure around the time of the Act of Grace, but Stede leaving has very dramatically twisted his perception on Stede's supposed feelings for him. Perhaps Stede's pursuit of him makes him confused on what Stede's after, if he's in love with his superficial personality, like the majority of those around him, or loves him for who he really is.

Don't make me waste my time Don't make me lose my mind, baby

Again, more of what I think is connected to the wedding scene: Ed seeing Stede everywhere. Is this after he gets the message in the bottle? We know Frenchie can't read, so maybe Jim read it for him, or someone else from his crew. (Of course, I don't know if Stede's "I love everything about you" is actually the letter, and am debating on whether or not it's said directly to Ed.)

Baby, baby, baby Can't you stay with me tonight? Oh baby, baby, baby Don't my kisses please you right?

This part is so reminiscent of the end of the Act of Grace— he wants to know why Stede didn't stay with him afterwards, why he didn't go with him off to China that night, and was it because of his straightforwardness and his kiss, which Ed knows that he himself initiated? I think he tells himself that he knows why, that it was because of himself as Ed, being vulnerable, not Blackbeard. ("Is it him, or is it me?") But deep down, he's completely unaware, and it sparks an ever-lasting worry.

You were so hard to find The beautiful ones, they hurt you every time

Ed spent his life searching for something meaningful- he's been a pirate for so incredibly long, ever since he was a boy on Hornigold's ship. And now that finally he's found someone that's piqued his interest, that makes him soften and appreciate the calmer things in life, that actually inspires him to almost fully retire from piracy and do what he personally finds pleasant, after all these years, it crumbles with a single dawn. The beautiful ones: something which can be used to accurately describe Stede. Not only is he the ideal beauty standard during the beginning of the Georgian era, essentially a ye olde model, but Ed finds him incredibly beautiful in both looks, personality, interests, and his unique take on the world and one doing things which Ed would usually overlook or think of differently. That's why he fell in love. But he was hurt, badly.

Paint a perfect picture Bring to life a vision in one's mind The beautiful ones Always smash the picture Always, every time

Of course, now we're on the topic of the infamous lighthouse painting, the only visible part of Stede that survives on the ship (except from the auxiliary wardrobe?). The perfect picture encompasses their relationship from Ed's perspective; Stede is a lighthouse, and if you get too close, you "crack up on the rocks." This vision is brought alight with Stede, but it's a senseless and fake reality, at least for Ed after the Act of Grace episode. He's now learnt not to trust these vulnerable moments, smash them, just as this dream was smashed for him.

If I told you baby That I was in love with you Oh baby, baby, baby If we got married Would that be cool?

The mention of marriage in this song, especially after the entire scene with the interrupted boat-marriage, Ed's decoration of the wedding cake toppers, and his very dreary and tired "objection", just points incredibly obviously to some form of matetolage in the season. It's so obvious, plus the fact that a form of gay pirate wedding is historically available for Stede and Ed is too good of a chance to pass on; if they don't do it now, they will do it sometime in another season or in the future. Nevertheless, Ed still loves Stede, and that's the bottom line.

You make me so confused The beautiful ones You'll always seem to lose

Of course, referring back to the previous mention of the beautiful one, this can relate to Stede again, and Ed's confusion on his supposed betrayal, however now, it has the added description of the beautiful one being lost to him, which strengthens his nihilistic thoughts regarding stable and loving mutual relationships (I've already kind of discussed this, so I'll keep it short.)

I may not know where I'm going, babe I said, I may not know what I need One thing, one thing's for certain baby I know what I want, yeah And if it please you baby Please you, baby I'm begging down on my knees I want you

Now, where I thought that the song began in Ed's perspective, I think it starts to revert to Stede's gradually, especially this part. There are other bits of the song which can be interpreted through Stede's eyes, however this is the one that stands out to me the most as something distinctly Stede-esque. His ineptitude to piracy and sailing are represented in the first line, however it is paralleled with his wish to get to Ed. After his realisation with Mary that he is indeed in love with Ed, and everything about him ("breathing the same air"), he knows exactly what his mission is, and he will do anything, no matter the limits of his understanding, to get to it. He'll beg, he'll weep, he'll do anything at all, to make both the world and Ed himself understand what exactly it is he wants.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd teaser #the beautiful ones #prince #song analysis #stede bonnet #edward teach #blackbeard #i think i may be slightly sick to the head #i've been listening to this song on repeat.....#help

8 notes · View notes

druidx · 1 year

Text

Seven Snippets, Seven People

Thanks for the tag @eli-writes-sometimes <3

Tagging back: @aalinaaaaaa @thewriteflame @wildswrites @aquadestinyswriting @artdecosupernova-writing @autumnalwalker @blind-the-winds @eli-writes-sometimes @hannahcbrown @oh-no-another-idea @rhikasa @swordsoulwrites @winglesswriter @andromeda-grace @writingmaidenwarrior @wispstalk @late-to-the-fandom @athenswrites

Rules: post seven snippets and tag seven people.

Once again, all these are from Alexis Dalliance vs the Evil of Titan, in my unending quest to edit the damn thing.

One

The other elf… Now he was a conundrum. He stood, ramrod straight, directly in front of the Captain's desk. He'd yet to change into any issued armour, and still wore what amounted to peasant rags – a tatty, oversized, undyed shirt and brown woolen trousers darned to an inch of their life, the whole ensemble held together with rope suspenders. Alexis squinted, sniffing suspiciously. Yes, there was also a faint miasma of animal dung from his direction. An elven farmer was a distinctly unusual thing. One to keep an eye on, that was for sure…

Two

On her way to the mess hall Alexis ran into Ithanor and Richard. It was Ithanor who heard her yelling to wait, where Richard would have sleep-walked on. Richard's limbs drooped, reminding her of a weeping willow, but Ithanor was as bright and alert as a holly tree in Autumn. As they made their way to the mess hall, Alexis told them about Captain Hengar. "I don't think he's fit for duty," she said. "But the townsfolk need organising to start work on repairs. I think I can convince him to eat and sleep. Richard, after last night you'll have their respect. You should coordinate the people." "Me!" Richard stopped coming alert as if he'd been slapped. "But… I don't know how. I wouldn't know what to do or what to say or-" "I'll do it," Ithanor said, holding up a hand to slow Richard's panic. "It's fine. They saw the three of us together, so if they respect and trust Richard, it should carry over. We'll get you to do a little speech and then I can take over giving the orders." "Good plan. If you see Yazty, send him my way?" Ithanor nodded. "Right then lads, let's get it done."

Three

Between the three of them, they managed to wrangle Hengar into bed, get the townspeople motivated, and begin work on the town’s reconstruction. Soon the air was filled with the sounds of workmen calling, rubble being shifted and sawing as seasoned timbers were brought out of storage. Once Hengar was deeply asleep, thanks to some concoction from Yaztromo, Alexis took any spare hands from the militia buildings to help with the town's efforts. Of Victor and Bastet there was no sign. But it didn't matter; Alexis knew that now Zagor was dead, they had some loose ends of their own to tie off.

Four

Following the Quartermaster's directions brought Alexis to a long room, filled end-to-end with bunk beds. A human with black hair and lieutenant's stripes held a slate, marking off filled bunks as he directed the recruits to their new sleeping places. Alexis froze in the doorway – there were so many people, so many sounds, so many smells. Talking and laughing, the tang of metal polish and reek of bodies. "Next! You there, don't dawdle." Alexis looked up at the lieutenant, eyes wide. "Not seen anything of the like before, eh?" he asked. Alexis nodded. "You'll get used to it, lass. Sixth on the right, against the wall." He squinted down at her. "Lower bunk." "Yessir," Alexis squeaked, and made her way to the assigned bunk.

Five

A half-elf followed shortly after, arriving as Alexis was trying to figure out which chest was hers. "You're my bunkmate, huh?" he asked. "Yeah. Alexis Dalliance." She held out a hand. He shook. "Holger Brodanic. I think that one is your chest," he added, pointing at the one against the wall. "Ta." "So how come they let a kid in? You lie about your age?" Brodanic asked as he put his own equipment away. "I'm not a child, I'm a full-grown adult." "You're awful short. You got some kinda sickness?" Alexis balled her hands, then released them slowly. "No. I'm an eshen. I'm actually tall for my kind." "Huh." Brodanic perched on the edge of the lower bunk with a lopsided smile. "My mother used to tell me stories about your lot. Mostly that if I didn't stay close to the village, an eshen would turn me into a tree." Alexis gave a puckish smile and wiggled her fingers. "Who's to say I won't?" For a split second Brodanic's face dropped, then he gave a tittering laugh. Alexis winked. "Nah, that's not something we can do." Brodanic stood, chucking her on the shoulder before bouncing up to his own bunk. "We're gonna make great bunkmates, Dalliance."

Six

Alexis smirked as she finished putting away her gear. Her ears twitched, making her stop and listen. Through the general hubbub of the barracks came the sound of angry, raised voices. Ensuring she could remember which bed was hers, she left, following the sounds of conflict back outside. In front of the the awning where the human had been taking in the recruits, an elf and the half-orc officer argued. The human – she’d overheard some of the other militia say he was the Captain of this outfit, a man called Hengar – sat back in the chair watching the kerfuffle. Also joining in on the argument was another human, tall and broad, and another elf. Abruptly the Captain stood up. "Enough." He laid his hands flat on the table. "I won’t have dissent in the ranks before we’ve even gotten anywhere. Vrog, take over. You three come with me." With that he left the half-orc standing there, striding towards the entrance. Alexis tried to back away, not wanting to be in trouble already, but she wasn’t fast enough. "You there," Hengar pointed at her as he approached. "How much of that did you hear?" "Nothing, sir. You stopped as I arrived." Hengar grunted. "Where were you before?" "In the barracks, sir." An eyebrow raised. "Good ears on you, eh? You too then, come along." Alexis gulped, but dutifulled trailed along after the group, as Hengar lead the way to his office.

Seven

The end of the sewer pipe lead into a small alcove filled with long brushes and leather gauntlets and aprons. Quietly, they used these tools to remove the effluent from their legs. "I should scout ahead," Alexis said. "No offense but I’m less likely to make a lot of noise while doing so, and I suspect my senses are more keen than yours." Ithanor glanced at their companions. No one disagreed. "Very well," he said. "We shall await your return. If you run into difficulties, holler, and we will come." Alexis nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. In a moment she was gone.

#writing #oc alexis dalliance #fighting fantasy #titan fighting fantasy #seven snippets seven people #tag game #wandering words #fuck the rules I say as I just tag everyone in my list and not 7 special people #series ADvEoT #wip 'Young Dagger False Dream'

7 notes · View notes

kallystah · 1 year

Text

| 03 | introduction to cooking

550 words

One afternoon, the eldest of the siblings, being alone when it was midday mealtime, decides to leave his room, his stomach crying out for hunger...

- Rindou, are you there? he asks, placing his head in the crack of the door, hoping not to have to cook.

But, a heavy silence had the effect of making him sigh, realizing that the only one capable of cooking properly was absent. Entering the room, he opens the cooker and smiles, almost dancing, happy to see that it is full. Full of hope, he suddenly opens the fridge before becoming disillusioned, when he notices the fresh food without preparation.

- What should I do, I don't know how to cook...

He groans, raising his head to lay his eyes on the apron the youngest is using.

Taking it suspiciously with his fingertips, he winces as he ties it to his body. Trying to motivate himself as best as he can, he takes the fish tray out of the fridge and opens it. He instantly closes the plastic, the smell making him want to vomit.

- It stinks my god! I can't touch this!

Unfortunately, noticing that the hour is passing at a rapid pace and that his stomach is beginning to crave violently, he grimaces and pinches his nose as he lifts the lid with a knife. Turning on the gas, he places the pan on it after removing the skin from the piece of salmon, still holding his breath. However, running out of oxygen, he runs outside the kitchen to catch a breath of air and then returns to fight.

- You VS me, salmon, you're not going to beat me like that!

Opening the bottle of oil, he squirts it onto the well-polished tiles. Shrugging his shoulders, he pays no attention to it and pours some into the pan before throwing the fish in without the slightest delicacy.

- Ho fu- I got all over it! Luckily I put on the apron. he boasts proudly, swinging his braids behind his shoulders with the back of his hand while humming..

Unfortunately for him, not everything went as planned...Once the salmon was cooked, he panicked and started running around the house, afraid to see his food turn ashen. But, clumsily, he slips into the oil stain he hadn't wiped off beforehand, which causes him to hit the ground with a little of grace. Screaming while laying the blame on the puddle, he jumps when he hears footsteps approaching.

- What the hell are you doing? Arrives the youngest, hardly returned that he had heard the dull noise resounding in all the apartment.

- You abandoned me, you traitor! Ran indignantly, pointing at him, still on the ground.

Sighing, Rindou let out a laugh as he helped him up, worrying at least about his brother's condition.

- Give me the apron, I'll take care of the cooking but clean up the whole mess, please.

- Yes ! He nods, fleeing the kitchen.

- Ran, why do fish drown in oil?

- Well what, shouldn't you put oil?

Turning his head to observe his big brother watching him, his head protruding from the frame, worried and disappointed to have missed again, he smiled falsely before reassuring him and trying to save the fish from drowning.

~~~ chapter 03 -end. ~~~

Masterlist tkr

#manga #tokyo revengers #imagine #ran haitani #rindou haitani #haitani brothers #behindthedoor #ran x reader #rindou x reader #tokyo manji gang

9 notes · View notes

rosewinelonging · 1 year

Text

theres always been something about rose that kanaya couldnt quite put her finger on. it wasnt bad per se, it was just. odd. she couldnt figure out what it was, not even after all the hours shes spent watching her. they had complete access to the kids throughout their lives watching as they went from tiny humans to slightly bigger tiny humans and yet all time spent staring at the screen did nothing to solve this feeling.

even now with rose being face to face it hasnt gone away. if anything getting worse as time went on. like a puzzle with a single piece missing, you can still make out the image but its still wrong. kanaya couldnt lie and say it wasnt bothering her. it was something about her presence, the way she moved, even moreso the way she didnt. her ability to sit and just, be still was almost frightening. she was deathly quiet usually settling into some corner where she reads or watches others in the room. the feeling of her sharp, knowing gaze always leaves her stumbling.

its during one of these so-called “quiet times” (as dave has so loving named) that the missing piece is finally found.

she was sitting on the coach trying to focus on not stabbing herself with the sowing needle again. rose was sitting with a book a little ways away. supposadly reading but the feeling of being watched never stopped for a moment.

dave walks in through the door and comes straight towards kanaya. “yo. have you seen lalonde?”

she looks up. “oh! well..” her eyes move to look past him, at rose seated just out of view of the enterance. he follows her gaze and turns around, startling at the sight of her.

“fucking christ!” rose smirked. “can you stop doing that? lookin’ like a creepy fucking doll-”

the rest of his words are cut off as her head begins to pound. oh. oh. she understands it now, that nagging feeling of something about rose that she just wasnt seeing. a doll. of course, she looked like a doll. graceful, elegant perhaps, a pretty little thing to be dressed up and admired. if kanaya was still alive shes sure her blood pusher would be pounding in her chest.

“ah!” she blinks back to reality when her fingers slipped and poked herself with the needle. the others stop their heated discussion to look at her. heat rushes to her face. “no need to worry, just uh poked myself with the needle! haha..”

she needed to think about this. with that she excused herself and hurried out the room.

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

it had taken a week to gather her thoughts. the whole she skirted around rose, making excuses to escape the scrutiny of the girl. it was painfully suspicious and a confrontation was inevitable.

“are you avoiding me kanaya?” rose had backed her into a corner, quite literally. she was pressed into the wall, opposite of the door.

“well. i would never avoid you. i am simply..” the girl raised an eyebrow. “i am of the opinion that you would be a good doll.”

“doll?”

kanaya nods sharply. “yes. i have been preparing clothes that would be fitting. that would make me expentionally happy if you were to wear.”

and to her utter suprise (and delight) she agreed.

they were in kanayas room. rose was perched on the edge of the bed that was never used but she never bothered to take out. now shes glad she hadnt. beside her were the clothes she made, laid out. a simple black skirt and a white button up skirt, the collar was embroidered with flowers. on top were the undergarments which took much longer than they should have. dark green matching set of lingerie. rose was inspecting the fabric with a small smile. “its pretty.”

kanaya was positively vibrating at this point. the anticipation of seeing rose wear her clothes was nearly too much to bear.

rose looked up. “seeing as im acting as a ‘doll’ in this scenario, and you my master, one must assume to be given commands..?”

she rubbed her hands together, clearing her throat. “that would be correct. all you need to do is act like a doll. which is to say, dont do anything.” that seemed to be acceptable to her as she nodded.

with just a moments hesitation kanaya finally reached out, grabbing roses arm and gently leading her to stand in the middle of the room. she grabbed the sides her godtier robe and began to lift up, rose putting her arms up letting her slide it off easily. kanaya dropped it to the floor unceremoniusly, leaving her in a simple bra and orange leggings. her hand hovers over the waistband. once this was off she would be in undergarments which shes seen many times on the monitor [though only when in private] but it was much different in person. sensing her hesitation rose pulled them down herself, bending down to pull them off her legs then dropping it next to her robe.

kanaya sucked in a breath. almost done. she circled around rose, the girl had returned to her doll-like status keeping her eyes directly forward, not acknowledgin her at all. it made her stomach jump and she rushed behind her so she wouldnt see her flushed face. she unlatched the clasp of the plain black bra. it was honestly disappointing, she had expected something fancier, a little more delicate from rose. but that was okay because thats why she was here. from now on she’d make sure rose wore only the prettiest clothing, it was what she deserves. moving the straps off her shoulder to let it drop to the floor.

finally, the last item of clothing. a pair of solid lavender panties. she wondered if there was decoration, like a bow or design at the front but wouldnt dare turn her around to check. the thought of rose watching her, all sharp and calculated like she could see directly into her mind revealing all of her deepest desires. it was too much. so she laid a trembling hand between her shoulder blades and began to trail her fingers down her spine. rose stiffened under her fingertips so she leaned in and said, “relax.”

she did. the tension fell away as her muscles drooped. then kanaya was centimeters away from her underwear. with a steadying breath she hooked two fingers beneath the waistband and tugged it down. there was no resistence or climactic happenings as it fell to the floor. just like that rose was completely naked. placing one hand lightly on her shoulder she walked back around to the front, admiring the sight. rose was shorter than her by a good bit, barely coming up to her chest. but what she lacked in height she made up generously in weight. she was heavy, with large wide hips and strong arms. her chest, though under-developed, was not lacking in any means. and despite this she looked more delicate than a feather on the water.

kanaya brushed her knucles against her cheek. there was no shame or embarrassment in features, only a quiet satisfaction. what she would give to have stay like this, a true goddess of her own right. she wanted to lay her down and map out every part of her body, get familiar with the holy. but she had a job to do. rose, her doll, was waiting to be dressed and displayed. [though if she really though about it, dolls dont care how their owners play with them, no opinions or voice of their own…] she turned and marched to the bed to grab the underwear, a dark green lace that would constrast wonderfully against her skin.

moving back, she grabbed roses hands and placed them on her shoulders for balance. it would be easier to make her dress herself but that would be a cruel request of a doll. she held the underwear down, letting her move to slip into it. kanaya took care to pull it up, the fabric fitting snuggly against her hips and ass. next she grabbed the matching bra, this time holding each arm as she slipped the straps to her shoulders. instead of turning her around she reached behind rose, finding the clasp and clipping it together with nimble, practiced fingers. she pulled the wire lining down checking to make to sure it was comfortable and low enough to give a nice view of her boobs.

next were the clothes. kanaya picked up the blouse from the bed. she had gotten rose to send measurements long before she started making these so she only hoped it fit. if not she could always spare some time so adjustments could always be be made.

she helped her through the short sleeves, tugging it the fabric up to her shoulders and flattening out the collar. starting from the bottom she began buttoning. it was natural muscle memory from years of practice yet she still fumbled. face flushing as her hands shook too much from excitement and anxiety to get them through the holes. eventually she managed to reach the top putting the last button throw the hole. she tugged at the collar, pulling the edges and flattening them out so they sat even against her jugular.

kanaya ran her fingers down her shirt, pinching and pulling at any odd sections until satisfied. the skirt was next, a simple black, pleated and it came to her knees. there was no hassle with getting her to step into it, pulling it up so it waistline settled just over her bellybutton. she spent a few minutes focused on pulling her shirt down, straigtening it out and fixing the skirt.

when satisfied she glances up and rose met her eye. they stared at eachother, her face tinged a bit red, eyes are a hazier than usual. softer around the edges like shes lost her constant sharp observance. kanaya brushed a piece of hair from her face. she ran her fingers through her soft hair, brushing out any kinks and moving it until her face was framed perfectly. holding her hand she led the doll back to her bed, helping her to sit down. once again fussing with her appearance before pulling back.

#<333 #kan #rose #this is an older fic i havent got around to finishing yet lol but have this portion. ill probably finish the rest another time !#so sorry for the abrupt ending

4 notes · View notes

fifteenleads · 1 year

Text

Alliance in Pink

Based on the FF16 German VAs' Barbie skit.

Clive knew he had much better things to do than this.

No, really, he did. It’s just that his brother rarely told him anything about himself these days that Clive had to take it upon himself to find out if he should have anything to worry about. Because the last time Joshua came home to visit, he brought a girlfriend.

Or at least, that’s what their mother assumed. Wouldn’t let the poor boy get a word in as she lectured him endlessly about not whiling away his college days because life was already hard enough as it was, and his transcript needed to be perfect if he wanted to land a lucrative career. Never mind that her older son already failed her on that aspect—not that she ever had any high expectations of Clive to begin with, but Joshua was different.

Jote was just a friend, Joshua had insisted. Someone he had shared some classes at college with. Nothing more than that. The insistent way he had made his point, however, made Clive all the more suspicious.

Which led to today—Joshua and his “friend” going out early to catch an afternoon movie, and Clive discreetly tailing them. Well, as discreetly as he could, of course, because his figure didn’t exactly scream discreet, what with his imposing figure and his “prominent pecs,” as Gav called them. He even shaved and bought a new polo shirt for the occasion.

Even Jill thought this was a bad idea, and she was usually supportive of him and his dumb antics. Well, too late for that now.

Clive hid behind one of the electronic displays as he watched Joshua and Jote buy their tickets, following the two with his gaze until they entered their designated theater. “Cinema 1,” he took note as he came out of hiding and lined up at the counter. All he had to do now was get a seat with a good vantage point of the two, and his job was (mostly) done. Joshua said he’d be home by five, after all, which would be around the time the movie ended.

He finally reached the front of the ticket booth. “Let’s see, Cinema 1… Miss, I’d like one ticket to whatever’s playing there, please.”

The girl took one look at him and continued chewing her gum. “You sure, Mister? Wouldn’t expect a hunk like you to watch Barbee, but okay.”

“Barbee?! Wait, I didn’t—”

“Are you buying or not? I don’t got all day, Mister.”

“I—” If this was Clive’s punishment for committing the sin of stalking his own brother (for pure purposes, he swore), then he… had no choice but to accept it willingly. He was already too far in the game to back out, after all. A small part of him wished he had listened to Jill, but there’s no point in regretting that anymore.

But the more important mission of finding out about Joshua and Jote was way more important than his silly pride! Clive’s conscience couldn’t let him watch his brother fall from grace before their mother. (He was overreacting, of course.) A certain manga he had read had the older brother main character do all sorts of shady things just to protect his twin sister, and he was called a siscon for it. Hell if he didn’t understand how that felt now.

To hell with it. Swallow his pride it is, then. “Yes. One ticket to—”

“—Barbee, please. And make that two.”

Clive yelped at the unexpected interruption, instantly turning to the source of the voice. Dion Lesage nodded at him amusedly, then smoothly handed over his card to the ticket girl, who immediately swooned as she swiped it and printed their tickets. “T-Thank you, sirs. Enjoy your show.”

He was still dumbstruck when Dion gently pulled him along away from the booth. What in the Founder’s name was Joshua’s other friend doing here? (He’d also denied any romantic attraction towards Dion exactly the way he did towards Jote now, so maybe Clive was right to be suspicious, after all.) “I’ve been watching the three of you since half an hour ago, and I must say your tailing skills still leave a lot to be desired,” Dion remarked dryly, handing Clive a pair of thick glasses. “Non-prescription. They’re Terence’s. Don’t break them.”

Clive looked around him, and spied Dion’s boyfriend seated on one of the benches. He looked up from whatever he was reading and waved. Clive sighed. “So I was too conspicuous, huh.”

“Very much so, I’m afraid. Now let’s get popcorn before they close the doors on us. You also owe me dinner after this.”

“I didn’t ask—” Clive started, but was silenced at once by Dion’s withering glare. “Fine. Two buckets of salted caramel popcorn, plus dinner. Sound good?”

“Yes,” Dion finally smirked, satisfied with his win. “In exchange, I’ll teach you how to tail people without getting spotted. You’ll be getting your money’s worth, I assure you.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Clive huffed to himself, shaking his head at the unexpected turn of events. Perhaps this was for the best, though. This… alliance, if he could call it that, certainly had its merits, and he felt he was going to come out of it a better man. Probably, if Jill and Gav didn’t find out about today, of course.

#final fantasy xvi #clive rosfield #dion lesage #humor #modern AU #based on the recent Barbie-related memes

2 notes · View notes

worriedvision · 2 years

Note

Angst with favorite characters? 👀 im always down to read heart crushing stuff with Diluc if you'd like to feed the beast >:] I love using him in cheating scenarios or unrequited love stuff 👀 he forgets reader's bday/their anniversary only to end up spending the day with someone else?? Im kicking my feet bkokwowkeo

Diluc the businessman lacking in his relationship, love that stuff! Gender neutral reader, Diluc makes his priorities clear to the reader.

You were looking forward to spending your first year anniversary with the best possible person to be in a relationship with. The man that looked serious, but he had a warm heart and a brave mindset when it came to protecting Mondstadt. While you hoped he would surprise you today, he didn't seem to remember what day it was today. You were kinda happy about this, however, as you started your day by cooking him breakfast (of course you get up earlier than he does to do this), and you have gifts ready for him to open. You hear him throw his clothes on, and you prepare yourself for the 'happy anniversary, beautiful' to leave his lips.

...only to feel your heart sink when he rushes out the door. Obviously, he had a lot on his plate today.

Oh well, you could still bring the breakfast to him! Plus, he could wind down after a hard day's work with you handing him your gifts. Yes, this would work out fine!

Throughout the day, you find yourself anticipating him making a surprise visit at the adventurers guild to give you his anniversary gift. It doesn't happen, and you begin to feel a bit dejected. He wasn't one to forget important things, wasn't this important?

You see his brother, and he approaches you. Usually smiling, you grow concerned when he asks for you to walk with him. He doesn't wish you a happy anniversary with your boyfriend, and it looked like he was about to show you why.

Heading to the knights headquarters, Kaeya motions for you to stay quiet no matter what you hear or see. He opens the doors discretely, the knights giving you an empathetic look as Kaeya walks you to the acting grand masters door. You both listen in, and Kaeya keeps his eye on you to check if you're okay.

The first part of the conversation was business related, yes. Jean requested for juices that Diluc brewed for the knights, and you hear him respond by saying the other crates would soon be delivered. You look at Kaeya, silently asking him if this was what he meant, but he shakes his head.

You hear Diluc walk towards something, and you soon find out it's the desk. Jean gasps lightly, giggling before you hear something that sounded suspiciously like the start of an intense makeout session. You look over at Kaeya, horrified, and he takes this as his cue to walk you back to your place to pack your things.

Thanks to Kaeya, you were able to stay in one of the many empty rooms in the quarters. He helps you move your things, and he can't help but feel horrid for you when he notices all the lovely gifts you had sitting, just waiting to grace Diluc. You follow his line of sight, and you don't have the energy to return the gifts.

Instead, you write a simple note for your now ex boyfriend.

'Happy anniversary, you selfish bastard.'

#gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #angst #diluc x reader angst #diluc x reader #diluc x gender neutral reader #kaeya #diluc #jean

496 notes · View notes

tommyshelbyswh0re · 2 years

Text

maybe i am just not enough- Thomas Shelby

based of the song ‘I’m not the only one’ by sam smith.

summary- you’re engaged to tommy but he still has unfinished business with grace.

warnings- vvvvv angsty. grace

you and tommy have been together for a few years. you live in a beautiful home and everything you ask for, you get. on paper, it seems like you are living the dream however, in reality, everything feels so empty. you met tommy just after grace left for america after they had found out she was a spy. you had just moved to small heath and had seen an ad for a job as a secretary at his betting shop. at first, he was extremely stand offish. you couldn’t seem to do anything without receiving suspicious looks or strange questions. you didn’t understand it until another secretary there had told you all about grace. eventually, he seemed to dial down the glares abit and it lead to small conversations here and there. this lead to longer conversations in restaurants and eventually a proposal. in the beginning of your official relationship, there was no doubt in your mind that tommy loved you. he showed it in any way a man like him could. however, after a year of being together he started to distance himself. it was impossible to understand what was going through your fiancés mind. one day, you walked into his office without knocking and found him staring at an envelope.

“hello sweetheart. what’s this?” you asked him, curiosity deep in your tone.

“a letter” he shrugged.

“well yes i can see that. but why are you staring at it like the second you open it you’ll set on fire” you chuckled.

“because it’s my past. the past is no longer my concern”

“well read it tomorrow, i have a surprise for tonight” you smiled sitting in his lap.

“yeah? and what’s that?” he asked with a smirk.

“i am going to cook us some food, and then you’ll see. so get your arse up and let’s go” you pulled him up by his arms and started dragging him out of his office.

—

the distance only seemed to get more as the days went on. it was 1 week until you’re wedding and you wanted to make sure he really wanted this before you and him were officially married.

“tommy?” you asked him from the couch in his office.

“what?” he grunted

“why are you being so distant?” you decided to just bite the bullet.

“not now y/n” he shook you off and went back to his work.

“i just need to know. the wedding is in a week” you reminded him.

“y/n. i said not now” he warned.

“well then when are we going to have this conversation?” you really needed an answer.

“never” he sharply replied before getting up to get a glass of whiskey.

“thomas” you warned.

“y/n” he deadplanned.

“im not marrying a man that won’t communicate”

“then don’t.” he shot his whiskey back. this made you gasp.

“are you being serious?”

“y/n if you don’t want to marry me then don’t” he looked you in the eye.

“im not the one doubting the wedding, you are” you answered back.

“what the fuck made you think that aye?”

“YOU thomas. you’ve barely looked at me this past week never mind have a conversation with me” you could feel tears welling up but you were not about to cry infront of him. “do you really want to marry me thomas? no riddles, no changing the subject, be honest” you asked him.

“ofcourse i do y/n. it’s just been a stressful week that’s all” his eyes softened and he walked round his deck to give me a hug.

“are you sure? now is your only chance to get out of it without having your suits set on fire” you warned him.

he laughed at that. “im positive” he kissed you. “by the way, i’m heading off to ada’s in london for the evening tomorrow” he told you.

“okay but be safe. can’t be a widow before i’m even married” you hugged him.

—-

it was the day of your wedding and you were anxiously waiting for polly to help you get your dress on.

“oh there you are. thought i had been stood up” you laughed trying to joke.

“y/n sit down” she said with a straight face and sympathetic eyes.

“okay” your furrowed your brows in confusion. “polly what’s going on?”

“we can’t find tommy” she blurted out.

“what do you mean you can’t find tommy? is he okay? i told him not to do any business last night before i left. did something happen?” you asked with concern laced in your voice.

“no it’s uhm- it’s nothing like that. john rang me. he told me that they were having a whiskey before they set off here when tommy just stormed out. they assumed he’d be here but he’s not showed up” she rushed out.

“well you need to send people to find him. god knows what’s happened to him.” you said with your eyes watering.

“we will y/n i promise we will. for now go home and wait for the phone. we will ring you if we find anything” she pulled you in for a hug and kissed your forehead.

—

you were sat at home worried out of your mind. you kept staring at the phone as if it would randomly start ringing. it must of worked because the 147th time you stared, it finally rang. you ran to the phone almost slipping about 6 times.

“hello. what’s happening?” you said out of breath.

“y/n”

“oh thomas thank god. are you alright?”

“i couldn’t do it y/n”

“do what?” you asked.

“marry you.” he whispered. you’re heart split in two.

“that’s okay. we can get married another time i know things have been stress-“

“no y/n. i cant marry YOU.” he sternly said.

“tommy can you just come home and we can talk about it?”you asked him, hoping that whatever you say in person was enough to change his mind.

“yes.”

—

after half an hour of pacing and crying, he walking through the front door. you went to go and hug him but he held his hand in front of him. “don’t y/n. because in about 15 minutes your going to hate me. you’re not even going to be able to look at me” he said shakily, walking towards his office and gesturing you to follow him.

once you were in his office he sat on the couch and you followed suit.

“tommy what’s going on?” you asked him with tears in your eyes.

“i slept with grace” he whispered. you felt like your whole world stopped spinning.

“i love her. she loves me-“

“stop”

“i want to marry her-“

“tommy stop” you warned.

“i couldn’t imagine a life without her-“

“THOMAS STOP JUST STOP” you screamed.

it went dead silent for 3 minutes whilst you were trying to process the information. you felt numb.

“i fucking knew it�� you turned to look at him.

“i told you to tell me the truth. i practically begged for the truth. you told me you wanted this” you pleaded.

“i know. i thought i did. when i went to london, i was actually meeting up with her. i had every intention of getting her hopes up and then telling her that i had moved on-that i had found you and that me and you were getting married in 6 days”

“then what changed” you asked him. tears streaming down your face.

“everything. i looked into her eyes and remembered how i always loved her eyes. and then i remembered how much i loved her. so i took her out, had a great time and then slept with her” he put his head down in shame.

“and you couldn’t tell me before i was about to put my dress on. you couldn’t tell me the day after” you shook you’re head at him. “tommy i thought you’d been fucking hurt” you raised your tone.

“what the fuck is wrong with you. you’re a fucking coward” you sobbed.

“y/n-“ he put his hand on your shoulder.

“if you want to keep your hand thomas i highly suggest that you move it” this made him sigh and move his hand instantly. you put your head in your hands.

“what the fuck am i supposed to do. where the fuck am i suppost to live. i sold my fucking house” you hysterically cried into your hands.

“i spoke to pol. she said you can stay with her until you find a job” he replied to you.

“you want me out so quickly. is she moving in?” you took your face away from your hands and looked at him. in reply, he cringed.

“oh my god she is. fucking hell tommy, the sheets are still warm. this was supposed to be our house. we were supposed to have children here and redecorate” you humourlessly laughed.

“im sorry y/n” he looked sincere.

“no you’re not. if you were you would have told me the day you came home instead of pretending that all was fine. you would not have let me embarrass myself by entering that church knowing you had no intention of waiting for me at the end of the isle. and you most certainly would not have kicked me out to let her move in” you shook your head in disbelief. “this is ridiculous. un-fucking-believable” you whispered under your breath before turning to look at him.

“there’s nothing i can do to make you want me more than her is there?” you looked into his eyes.

he hesitantly shook his head. “no” he whispered.

“maybe i’m just not enough” you let a tear pour down your face.

#Spotify #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby angst #grace shelby #peaky blinders imagines #shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x f!reader #peaky #peaky blinders

289 notes · View notes

eldrai · 2 years

Note

Could you write autistic Hotch who hides his autistic traits and gets confused when Spencer joins his team and does not do that one bit as in he is barely masking around his new colleagues?

Thank you in advance, no problem if not!!💗

Can you write autistic Hotch - yes, yes I could. Thank you for the prompt, it was fun to write!!

3.8k (somehow). There's some unintentionally ableist comments and internalised ableism in here, about what you'd expect from the prompt. But otherwise, enjoy a dash of mild angst for Reid & Hotch.

ao3 here

Spencer Reid is most definitely something.

He hadn’t wanted to presume and, as Jason hadn’t elaborated other than the man being a genius, hadn’t asked. The flustered manner in most conversations can easily be a result of being fast-tracked through school; the confidence overwriting it when he begins to talk about a subject that interests him – Aaron’s quickly realising that constitutes most topics – is hardly irrational. Keen to prove his worth, no doubt exacerbated by his young age, Reid’s eager to make a good impression.

The exaggerated edge to his facial expressions and the little movements Reid’s forever engaged in – never can he sling his bag over his shoulder without fiddling with the strap, nor sit straight on a chair without spinning, and that’s what Aaron has picked up on just a fortnight in – are harder to explain without wishful thinking. Sure, maybe he’s anxious and it’s the accumulation of nervous energy and Aaron is overthinking it here. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The signs start to really stack up after they’ve been on their first few cases with him. Reid misses the sideways glances from the others when he’s been speaking for a long time. Jokes go over his head, not all the time but enough for Aaron to notice. He catches himself focusing on Reid and kicks himself each time. Reid is eccentric because he’s a genius. He talks so much because he knows so much and talking with his hands is simply a product of trying to get it all out so fast.

There’s nothing more to it and, frankly, he can’t help but feel a little guilty for considering it; it’s not his business. Aaron has almost convinced himself of this by the time an unsub mentions the autistic leanings of Dr. Spencer Reid.

The insult (as it undeniably is) isn’t even directed at him but Aaron’s heart skips a beat. Not a good thing to be called in front of everyone. Reid frowns. As soon as he notices Aaron looking at him he dips his head and breaks the eye contact, staring down at the pencil he’s spinning in his hands. Embarrassed is his best guess.

And it begs the question whether that’s because he isn’t autistic or because he is.

As he watches the team carefully for any kind of disdain, disgust, Aaron pushes the question to the back of his mind and focuses on the case. They have an unsub to catch and a teenage girl to find—the rest is secondary.

Jason hangs up on the man and from there things are a practiced blur.

“…think he is?” JJ says.

“Nah, he’s awkward,” Derek says. “He’s a genius, he’s bound to be a little out there.”

Aaron moves to let a local officer through the door and stays where he is, barely within earshot. There’s a quiet unease in his chest.

“Would he—” Elle hesitates. “Would he still have a 187 IQ if he was?”

Why would it matter?

Derek shrugs. “They say it’s the brain wired differently. He’d still be like that, just more different.”

“Shyer doesn’t even know him,” JJ says. “And he can’t be, anyway.”

“Why not?”

“You’ve seen how much he feels things.”

Well.

At least it’s not intended maliciously, though the intent does little to dull the sting. It’s a shame he can’t correct them, not without coming across as suspiciously defensive. Aaron puts his hands in his pockets and goes to find Jason; if anyone does know, it’ll be him. The conversation quiets down as he walks past and he doesn’t care to stick around to hear if they continue.

They continue. They’ve at least got the grace to wait for Reid to fall asleep – Aaron’s almost certain he’s genuinely asleep – before they pick it up again.

“How are you supposed to profile if you don’t understand facial expressions?” Derek says. “It doesn’t even make sense for him to think that.”

You learn, Aaron doesn’t say, because you’re neither clueless nor able to survive without learning. Instead he tries to blot out their discussion as he works on the paperwork. The jet’s a privilege, yes. It’s also very small.

“It would explain why he reads so much,” Elle says.

“He can make eye contact,” JJ adds.

Aaron clenches his jaw. It’s not as if having to hold his tongue is new to him but it’s something else when it comes from the team, and he glances over at Reid. Hopes he’s not a convincing faker. You’d be surprised.

“Hey, Hotch,” Derek says.

He tilts his head.

“It really doesn’t make sense what Shyer said. What do you think?”

Aaron stops writing and chooses his words carefully. “I think Reid would appreciate it if we weren’t speculating.”

“We’re not,” Elle says quickly. “It’s just that if he was, it wouldn’t make him any good at profiling.”

He sends an imploring look at Jason but the man gives him a faux quizzical look back. For god’s sake.

“How come?” Aaron says. He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, but something inside him is wound up tight and tense.

“Well, eye contact and everything,” JJ says.

“And he’d look like it,” Derek says. “I don’t have a problem with it—” How charitable, he thinks, irritated. “—but some people wouldn’t really… trust him.”

“Theory of mind,” Jason adds. “It’s lacking in autistic brains but it is vital for empathy and social interactions. He’d struggle to understand unsubs.”

Aaron likes his team. He values their inputs. He also wants nothing more than to tell them to please shut the hell up.

(Nobody’s ever questioned his ability to get into unsubs’ heads but the lacking in empathy… they might be able to see him like that. Is that what they think of him? Unfeeling, unempathetic?)

“Whether or not it would affect his profiling abilities,” Aaron says, “it’s a personal matter and if Reid did want us to discuss it, he would let us know. Until then, leave it.”

All of them. Even Jason.

Aaron flicks his thumb over his fingers absentmindedly as he picks up his pen again and reminds himself not to question whether he’d made the right choice. He has. It proves itself every damn day.

(And pattern recognition and an atypical perspective and an ability to be a better interrogator if the deviation from social norms doesn’t bother him would make him better, actually—)

Reid never mentions it again. The rest of the team might, but not within Aaron’s earshot and presumably not within Reid’s. Stamping down on the speculation too hard will only have the opposite effect so he settles for that, hoping he’s done the right thing. Hoping they’d think he agreed with them.

His list of ASD traits in Reid gets longer. The idea has taken root and it’s growing with the more time he spends around him. Reid’s odd socks he is insistent upon. His leg bouncing and chair spinning and pen drumming. The clumsiness which makes Aaron understand the childhood nickname. Learning to shoot frustrates Reid, because it’s a dexterity-based task, and Aaron, because he can’t let on that he understands why Reid is so frustrated in case he’s misjudging it. He offers to take over from the guy teaching him (and receives a grateful, if slightly disbelieving, look and a grumpy ‘good luck’ which makes him dislike the man immediately) and talks Reid through the process step by step. Reid needs to know why he does things, needs to know the mechanism. Aaron is more than happy to oblige. His brain works the same.

He's glad Reid has integrated so well with the team. Really, he is.

It’s just strange.

Though Reid doesn’t explicitly mention autism, he doesn’t need to. It’s there if someone knows the signs—and someone had—and Aaron can’t understand why he puts in no effort to hide it. Not even a case of masking it badly, Reid… doesn’t.

Aaron hates the feeling with a passion but some small part of him is jealous that Reid gets away with it. That Reid doesn’t have to worry about seeming strange or out of place or autistic, because it’s all explained by his intellect. It’s irrelevant.

And if it’s irrelevant in Reid, what makes it so important in everyone else?

He’s happy for him beyond what he could express, for the step forwards that’s evidently been happening around him over the years to make it acceptable. The bad days, though, when Aaron can hear too much and smell too much and think too much and has to rethink everything he says before he says it so he’ll be normal, those days the jealousy is an ache in his bones.

Blaming Reid is unfair. Reid had no hand in this. It’s not his fault that Aaron has trapped himself here, unable to stop masking and, frankly, exhausted with doing so. He didn’t build up those walls, those expectations, that personality. That’s all on him.

The knock comes about half a second before Derek barges into his office anyway and says, “Hotch?” in the same tone he’d use to tell him there’s been a major incident or something of the sort.

“What is it?” he asks, out of his seat already.

“Reid’s freaking out,” Derek says, “and we can’t figure out how to help him.”

That’s better and worse than what he’d expected. Aaron hopes he’s wrong. “Freaking out how?”

“He was crying when I left,” Derek says, “and he was trapped where he was, kind of? He wouldn’t move and he keeps saying stuff back to us that we said to him.”

Aaron lets Derek’s hurried footsteps lead the way. He hasn’t told anyone else about his thoughts and somehow it feels like his fault regardless.

They’re holed up in a conference room a little way along the hall from the bullpen, where the ambient sound is muffled and there’s less of a likelihood of new people coming by. He doubts that’s much of a benefit to Reid given that their whole team is also here, well-meaningly crowding him.

Reid himself is standing with his eyes screwed shut and his hands alternating between picking at his clothes and flapping. He feels sick at the secondhand embarrassment that it gives him to see him like this in front of everyone.

“Thank you, Derek,” he says. “Can you – yes, all of you – give us some space, please?”

Light bothers Reid even more than it does him—that’s easy, lights off and sunglasses if he needs them—and it had taken him quite a while to get over the sound when shooting, even with the ear defenders, so noise level probably factors in. Aaron’s not very fond of that aspect of field work either; it leaves him with a headache most of the time. There isn’t as much he can do about that but getting the team out is a good step. Other sensory issues aren’t his forte, though he’s not sure if Reid’s clothes are actually bothering him or the fidgeting is an outlet for his stress.

The others are hesitant to leave so Aaron turns to Reid. “Would you like any of us to stay, or would you rather be alone?”

He can’t see any visible injury and he trusts that Derek would’ve mentioned it if there is, so Aaron is all right, if not completely comfortable with, leaving Reid to calm himself down.

“Stay,” Reid says.

“Who do you want to stay?”

“Stay.”

“Me?” Aaron confirms. Reid nods.

It’s a relief in some ways – the others don’t need to see more than what they have already – and very much not in others. He hasn’t dealt with Reid’s meltdowns before and he doesn’t know what helps. Hell, if this isn’t a meltdown but something else, he’ll be utterly unprepared.

Once the team has left, Aaron flicks the light off and some of the tension in Reid’s face lessens immediately.

“What do you need?” he asks quietly.

Reid’s skinny arms wrap around himself as he rocks on his feet, ball to toe. “Stay,” he repeats. “Please can you stay?”

“I’m here, Reid.”

Aaron gives him his space but Reid stays where he is, seeming to hug himself harder each time he adjusts his arms, glancing periodically over at him then dropping his gaze.

“What is it?” he asks the fifth time Reid does it in a minute.

“Nothing,” Reid murmurs. “It’s nothing, I’ve just got a blanket at home – a weighted one – and that helps and I won’t be home until six and it’s a bad day and I wish I had it.”

He says weighted blanket like it’s something Aaron should know what it is, and he’s alarmed, slightly, that Reid is so openly giving him that information. That leverage, if it was in the wrong hands. It’s good to know pressure helps him.

“Can I do anything to help?”

Reid bites his lip and edges closer. He’s talking with his hands again, even if his eyes stay fixed on the floor. “I, uh, before I had that, I’d get pressure sometimes from, um. Hugs? But that’s – stupid, can you forget I said anything, never mind. I’m okay.”

And again, Reid’s so open with it all. Aaron is certain he’d have to have his own needs pried out of him to ever actually reveal them but the man in front of him has no such qualms.

“I… I can,” Aaron says, and there’s no way to say it which doesn’t sound awkward but he supposes they’re both past the point that’s a concern. Mainly he’s hoping for Reid’s sake he says no because he’d like to be able to look him in the eye – so to speak – after this.

Reid moves tentatively, like he’s not quite sure he’s really meant to be doing this, and maybe they’re not; god knows what it’d look like, the two of them embracing in a dark room where Reid’s obviously been crying. Still, Aaron pulls him in and wraps his arms around him, feels hands grasp the back of his jacket.

“Tighter? Looser?”

“’S good,” Reid says, his head turned and words muffled into Aaron’s shoulder.

“Good.”

Despite the strangeness, it does seem to help Reid calm down faster and it’s not long before he pulls away and wipes his face. Colour rises in his cheeks as he laces his fingers together, fidgeting with them.

Reid clears his throat and, for the first time since Aaron has walked in, forces himself to make eye contact. “I’m sorry.”

Oh, this part he’s more familiar with, the shame and the guilt—for all the jealousy, he’d hate to be in Reid’s shoes at this moment in time.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Aaron says. Despite it being the truth, it feels like a lie on his tongue. There really isn’t cause for it. But something in him is just as embarrassed for Reid’s sake as Reid is. He pushes it away. “Nothing.”

“I can explain,” Reid says, giving him a wide-eyed pleading look, slipping back into the larger than life calibre his expressions can sometimes take. He’s already got countless explanations, no doubt. “Preferably not this instant but if you wanted, I, um, I could.”

“I’d like to know if we can prevent this from happening, but not because I’ve forced you to tell me. It’s so that you don’t reach this point in the future,” Aaron says. Lets Reid hear the assumption in it, that ‘this’ is not a one-off like some people might think, that it’s something they can manage with adjustments. That it’s perhaps a condition.

“I won’t,” Reid assures him, a beat too quickly.

“For your sake,” Aaron clarifies. He still looks thoroughly unconvinced. “You’re not in trouble.”

(Aaron can’t imagine what this kind of thing would’ve earnt him way back when. Certainly more than just embarrassment. He’s not sure what punishment he’d even give Reid for it, if he was going to be vindictive about it—he’d like to think he couldn’t but he’s not optimistic about the policy for incidences like this.)

Reid drags a hand across his forehead and massages his temple.

“Go home and rest,” Aaron says. He opens his mouth. “I’m not sending you home officially, you’re ill.”

Though the faint glimmer of suspicion in Reid’s face is nothing personal, Aaron feels a twinge of guilt.

Two weeks later, Reid comes into his office in the morning and spends a painful five minutes – for both of them – beating around the bush. When they truly exhaust all other reasons for his being there, he lowers the papers he’s kept held to his chest and slaps them on Aaron’s desk.

“I’m autistic,” Reid announces, his leg bouncing.

This is not news to Aaron. This is probably not news to half the BAU. There is no reason why it should catch him off guard as much as it does, yet hearing Reid outright state it gives the atmosphere between them a strange tension.

Reid shouldn’t have told him.

And he supposes he can understand that it’s easier than when he joined, that the culture has changed and being more open has less of a chance to damage Reid’s career, but less of a chance is nowhere close to zero. On a more personal level, Aaron can’t imagine ever admitting it to any of his higher-ups and expecting them to regard him as just as competent as he was before.

But Aaron wants to ask him what the hell he was thinking, didn’t he have the faintest sense of self-preservation? Warn him that it’s not something he wants to be common knowledge, and that the secrecy is a necessary evil. Just something to help him reconsider. He doesn’t think everything has changed enough to take that risk. Reid evidently does, and there’s the pull of jealousy and relief all again.

In all the time he’s thought about Reid being autistic he’s never thought of Reid actually telling him, or what his response would be, and he realises belatedly he’s probably been silent for a little too long.

“Right,” Aaron says, feeling surreal. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Reid’s shoulders drop and the tension bleeds out of him.

“It wasn’t on your personnel file,” he says. “Would you like it to be? You’d need a formal diagnosis—”

“I don’t,” Reid says. “I wanted you to know in case I had another meltdown. That’s what the other day was – the triggers can vary from person to person but mine are mostly set off by sensory overload, and it’s not usually that bad, I can keep it under control.”

“I’m not concerned about your ability to do your job, Reid,” Aaron says. “Like I said, if there’s anything I or anyone else can help you with to stop it getting to that point, let me know.”

“You can do that?” he says.

“Accommodations?”

“None of my teachers ever listened until I got my IEP,” Reid says. “And even that was only so I could skip grades.”

“I’m sure unofficially we can find ways of managing it,” Aaron says, “but if you did want access to official accommodations you would have to have ASD on file.”

“What would the accommodations be?” Reid asks.

It occurs to Aaron that he’s never checked, not even for himself.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” he says. “If you don’t want that, it’s perfectly fine to keep it between us. I’m assuming it is between us?”

“I think I do want the others to know,” Reid says, surprisingly certain. “Just not right now.”

Aaron nods. He’s torn between encouraging him and letting him know that it may not be the best idea, all things considered; not wanting to hurt him but not wanting to hold him back. Reid is an adult and responsible for his own decisions. He just can’t understand how Reid doesn’t see the other side of it all, doesn’t seem to care about the consequences of being so exposed. Autistic. Walks around as if the burden of judgement isn’t a weight on his shoulders at all.

Perhaps Aaron has it wrong. Reid might not care about judgment because he doesn’t mask—he’s set no precedent for himself other than who he is. Hell, he’s walked in here and told his boss he’s autistic. That has to count for something.

Reid does it when they’re together after a case. Derek’s been watching him wind the blanket through his hands for a good ten minutes, unmoving.

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” he says. The sudden break in the silence has drawn the attention to them, briefly, and he glances at them. Meets Aaron’s eyes for a second. Says, like ripping off a bandaid: “I have autism.”

The stunned silence shatters just as quickly.

“Congratulations?” JJ says, sounding more sure of herself with each syllable she doesn’t get interrupted on. “Sorry, I don’t know what I’m meant to be saying but that’s – it’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah, thanks for sharing,” Derek says.

Little by little, Reid relaxes, continuing to savour the texture with a bashful smile.

“Good to know,” Elle says.

And he’s not jealous, he’s not, he’s proud of Reid and happy for him but you’ve seen how he feels things and some people wouldn’t really trust him and none of this is about Aaron, so he forces a small smile and gives Reid a polite nod and that’s that.

Things have changed.

It’s in the little habits they’ve acquired, mostly accidental: Derek tossing Reid something to fiddle with when he’s wringing his hands anxiously. How Elle tips him off to the rhetorical questions he’s not entirely sure about being real or not. JJ switches from brushing him off to asking if he can tell her about his special interests later – and Reid comes out of his shell even more, regaling them on the jet with the sheer depth of his knowledge on the most obscure of things. Jason doesn’t mention it but he’s known Reid for the longest so it’s hardly surprising.

Reid has a list of good books on the topic he’s happy to talk about; Aaron skims one that he already owns a copy of, pausing to read the pencilled observations and corrections, glimpses of his thoughts. The astuteness manages to surprise him even after months of working together.

Aside from keeping an eye out for potentially overwhelming situations, Aaron finds he doesn’t need to do much for Reid at all, that the team have so effortlessly slotted into place accommodating him. And when, at Reid’s request, he filed his condition and accommodations as official he’d even gotten away without any comment from Strauss.

Reid’s got leeway for his genius and Aaron isn’t any closer to willingly letting people know about him but… well, it’s better than it used to be. A damn sight better. No small part are the people. His team. They’re more than he could’ve ever asked for and he’s never been so proud of them for learning.

#answered #cm fanfic #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #autistic reid #autistic hotch #criminal minds fanfic #angst #cm angst #reid angst #hotch angst #mine

201 notes · View notes

islandofsages · 2 years

Note

Heyy could I request platonic venti taking care of his sick friend who has a high fever? Have a nice day!

summary: in which he tries his best to tend to you.

characters: venti x gn!reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, reader lives in mondstadt, fluff, fic format, diluc is mentioned

warnings: hand-holding

author's notes: sorry for being late again 😭 well, better late than never right lmao,, and yes i threw in yet another will wood reference, someone stop me. anyways i hope you like this and you have a nice day too anon <3

word count: 1.4k

“So uh…what exactly do mortals eat when they’re sick?”

Diluc sighs as he continues to mix a drink, hands and shaker in the air with a posture that could easily be read as this routine being second-nature to him. Venti kicks his feet in a bored manner as he waits for the redhead’s answer, his hands also fiddling, though with his glass of wine. Diluc only has the drunken state of most of the patrons to thank for the lack of attention drawn to Venti’s seemingly strange question.

“Medicine.”

“Yeah but medicine like what? Back in my days, we just drank ourselves to death - and damn it, we liked it!”

Venti playfully reminisces as he takes another sip of his drink and Diluc rolls his eyes at the ridiculous confession. By then, Venti’s beginning to feel a little tipsy, though that is no surprise for his little sip was of his 11th glass of wine. The redhead only shakes his head, already and unfortunately too familiar with the bard’s antics. Even when Diluc starts to rummage through his pockets, Venti pays no mind to his surroundings. “Here. Take them to (Y/N). …Don’t say I’m the one who gave you these though.”

Only when Diluc extends a few packets of medicine and pills does Venti raise his head from the counter curiously. Public display of kindness aside, how did Diluc know he was asking for (Y/N)? Perhaps Jean had told him? Either way, that isn’t a question Venti bothers asking, not when the redhead is offering to be so nice to him…or rather (Y/N). Still, there is one question lounging in Venti's mind.

“And why not, my dear Diluc?”

“Because it’ll make you look like an unsympathetic asshole, you fool.”

Venti lets out a melodramatic gasp at Diluc’s choice of words to which Diluc only rolls his eyes yet again. The latter only puts the packets on the counter and returns to mixing his drink, Venti unaware the shaker is still in his hand in the first place. Venti only stares suspiciously at the medicine - not suspicious of the fact that they came from Diluc, oh no, he is more suspicious of how tiny bits of dust could possibly heal a human being. What curious creatures humans are.

He snatches the packets swiftly and rushes out the door, to Diluc’s dismay. The redhead screams after the bard, the latter already far enough from the tavern to not hear his angry voice boom out.

“You better pay later, you dolt! With actual Mora this time!”

Despite his slight lightheadedness, he’s still somewhat sane enough to at least knock on your door instead of barging in recklessly like an imbecile (though Diluc has called him that in two different ways in one night already). Though…when he hears no verbal response nor footsteps, then he barges into your house. Even so, he tries his best to remain graceful despite the ruckus he’s making would make someone mistake him for a burglar.

“Oh (Y/N)~ I got some medicine for you! Where are you~?”

He searches for you all around the house except for the bedroom where you lay in your bed. You feel the urge to laugh at the sound of his footsteps littering all over your humble abode as if you two are playing some form of hide and seek or Windtrace - but a raspy cough escapes your lips instead, your throat feeling scratchy as all hell. Your more-than-concerning cough acts as a guide for your best friend; merely seconds after your cough, he finds his way to you.

“(Y/N)! There you are! Oh wow, your face is really red…”

He makes his way to you with light steps, borderline tiptoeing. Venti’s smile is quickly replaced by a frown despite - or maybe because of - the weak smile you offer him. He sits on the edge of your bed, on the right side where you lay and for a few moments, he simply observes you and your movements, or lack thereof.

“Um, here, I brought some medicine which I totally didn’t get from Master Diluc. But, uh, if you need anything else, don’t be afraid to ask!”

He says and gently puts the packets of medicine on your stomach, though concealed by a blanket. You manage a laugh this time and a shake of your head makes him scratch the back of his head sheepishly with that signature chuckle of his. You attempt to make a grab for the medicine, and while you are successful, Venti suddenly puts his hand on yours.

“Your body heat’s really high too…wait here.”

He then rises and leaves the room just as abruptly. You were about to tell him that you need some water for the pills; though you do find it amusing how he’s trying so hard to understand and empathize with mortal issues such as illnesses. He may be able to get drunk but you suppose that as an Archon, he is still as immune to diseases despite being able to develop allergies. You then start to wonder…how many milligrams of him is truly him?

“I’m back! Hope you weren’t waiting too long~”

Venti enters and a glint reflected from his hand steals your attention - a full glass of water shimmers, thanks to the ribbons of moonlight twirling their way into your room through your window; oh, you forgot to draw the curtains, you think to yourself. No wonder your room seems to glow despite the lights being off. Your train of thought is interrupted by yet another uncomfortable cough.

Upon hearing that, Venti quickly sits back down on the edge of the bed and hands you the glass with a small nod. You accept his offer and with your other hand, you grab your medicine that Venti totally didn’t get from Diluc. You sigh before you go through the usual meds-taking procedure, gulping down pills you didn’t even bother to question the effectiveness of. Again, Venti only watches you silently, as if you’re an otherworldly specimen that somehow made its way to Teyvat (and maybe you are).

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?”

You ask once you think his gaze is becoming a little unnerving. As if a spell has been broken, he blinks once, then twice, and the thin line on his face stretches into a full smile. He leans forward and cups one side of his mouth with his right hand cheekily to whisper-shout.

“Well yes, there is something on your face - a very bright red blush!”

You both laugh at his words, though you choke on a few coughs in between. As soon as you two finish laughing, he takes your hands in his and gently, he caresses them with his oh-so-silky fingers. Up and down, over and over again, soothing whatever phantom pains that once resided in between exhausted flesh. You say nothing and take the time to cherish such a silent moment with him, comforted by his gesture.

“Hey, (Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

He breaks the silence yet his routine persists. His voice was quiet, an unreadable silence that tickles your curiosity, beside the fact that he looks quite vulnerable at the moment. Your response was simple, as to not give away that curiosity, fearing the cat wounds itself before it even escapes the bag. The bard clears his throat.

“...I think I’m bad at taking care of sick people.”

At that, you let out the biggest laugh your raspy throat could muster. Venti is silent, though his eyes are now on you and on him, is a smaller yet more genuine smile. You make a quick grab for the glass of water just so you wouldn’t choke on your coughs again. Once you finish rehydrating, you intertwine your fingers with his, forcing a halt on his routine. But he doesn’t seem bothered in the least.

“You may be bad at that but you sure are a professional at being a friend.”

He doesn’t reply, save for his tightening grip on your hands; you remember what it’s like to be a good friend yourself. Someone who doesn’t treat you as if you’re made of glass, who doesn’t treat you as if you’re omnipotent, who simply treats you as an entity worthy of compassion and kindness - Venti is that to you. And you hope you are that to him too.

Love can be quite contagious, after all.

150 notes · View notes