#as the child of two heavy smokers it makes me so angry

[gojology]

Jealousy. (3/3)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS AND I RLLY LOVED HOW THE ENDING WENT BUT IF U WANT ME TO WRITE A LITTLE EXTRA OF WHAT HAPPENS AFTERWARDS JUST SPAM MY INBOX K THX ENJOY!!!! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Teen! Gojo x Gender Neutral Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2286 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Cursing.  ALL CHARACTERS HERE ARE AGED DOWN FROM PRESENT ANIME/MANGA INTO WHEN THEY WERE TEENAGERS. 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Your plan with Geto finally unfolds, and Geto thinks with the information he has gathered, that it’s a perfect time for you to confess to Gojo. Shoko answers your suspicions about her and Gojo before Geto crashes the scene, telling you last second that he had set you up with Gojo for a confession, you had almost no time to prepare. Before you could even hold a proper scolding, Gojo arrives, it’s time to confess.    “Okay, here’s the plan.”     Geto slapped his hand onto the table, handing you a fizzy drink. You watched the bubbles rapidly float upwards. Inside, there’s various fruits, strawberries, kiwis, some lemons for added fanciness.     “(Y/N), the drink is not what we’re focusing on.” he snaps his fingers, you glance up, he’s shaking his head and smiling.     “Sorry, uh, I’m not good with serious conversations.” you twiddle with your thumbs, studying the table. Your fingers itch for your something to fidget with, the whole reason why you two met up was awkward anyways.     You had conspired with Geto to make Gojo jealous. Having already tried being subtle, you had eyed him across the room, flirted with him, and he still hadn’t realized. You had bought him free stuff whenever you went to the store, and once again, he never really realized. Geto did, though. He always raised his eyebrows when you handed Gojo a bag of kikufuku from his favorite shop, or if you got him a stupid cheap trinket from the night markets.     The point being, you were much more affection with Gojo then anyone else.    Even when you tried to conceal this jealousy, the cracking point was when you had found out that Gojo had gone out with Geto the night before and had sex with a few random girls.    You had chewed Geto and Gojo both out, while Gojo was yawning and tousling his hair, boredom evident in his face, Geto examined every single little thing about your body language. How your face seemed to drop a little more when you talked about Gojo, and how you seemed so self conscious when you talked about the girls that he had had fun with.     He had approached you, with no time for small talk. His arms crossed, he blew a strand of hair away from his face, looking at you. He had oh so casually asked you if you had a thing for Satoru, and here you were now. Just short of having a heart attack from sheer panic.     “Hey. Don’t be scared.” placing one of his hands on your shoulder, he smiles. “I know Gojo, did I ever tell you how we compared dick sizes once? Wild, I’ve also had a few foursomes-”     You retch, and Geto snickers.     “Moving on, that guy gets jealous EASILY. He’s also as dumb as a rock, probably can’t define the word love.” he looks down, the easygoing expression on his face wiped off, replaced with a rather saddened one, “but I guess he hasn’t experienced the feeling a lot.”     He looks back up at you, brushing his bangs behind his ear. “This brings me to Operation: Make Gojo Jealous Because That’s The Only Way I Know How To Get Him To Realize If He Likes You or Not!”     He leans over the table, looking left and right before leaning into your ear. “What do we say if Gojo doesn’t like you back?”     Your stomach twists as the words, “Gojo doesn’t like you back.” echoed in your mind, you sigh.     “That’s okay Gojo, and whatever your opinion is, I will respect.”     “Perfect, if you have any objections, tell me now.”     A deafening silence settles between you two, he chuckles again.     “Also, Shoko’s smart as shit. She can probably catch on, or maybe she already knows that you have a crush on him. Maybe she’ll play into this, fair warning. Alright, ready? Listen close.”     He stops leaning over the table, sitting back down normally.     “We start spending a lot more time with each other, as in, we spend more than half of our day with one another.” you open your mouth to complain, as Geto would be sure to annoy you knowing that you had to spend half the fucking day with you, but he shushes you up with his finger.    “I’m a good stalker, so I’ll be watching Gojo. If he doesn’t have a crush on you, he’ll be just fine. Albeit, just a bit lonelier, because his best bud is ditching him for you, maybe talk to Shoko or some shit. If he DOES in fact have a crush on you, he’ll watch our every move. He doesn’t hide his anger very well, so I’ll be able to tell.”     “You’re a good WHAT?”     “Shut up, and I have everything planned out. We’ll probably have a celebration at this park after we get back from wiping out all the curses from this village, and by then I’ll have enough information to see if that’s a good day to confess to him. Understand?”     You nod, shocked that he had literally planned this all out. He gets up, nodding at you and waving, giving you a playful wink before leaving the room.  —        Here you were now, sitting on the picnic blanket. Shoko digs her hand into her pocket, pulling out a few cigarettes.     You eye them as she whips out a lighter, delicately placing the cigarette into her mouth and lighting it. Taking in a deep breath, you watch her exhale, a hazy cloud of gray swirled around into the air.    You never took Shoko as a person to smoke, but your gut wrenches. Does Gojo like smokers? He seemed interested in Shoko, and maybe Shoko was trying to confess with him before you and Geto had crashed the party.     Nervously shoving the marble in your ramune down, you stutter, Shoko glanced up. Her lukewarm eyes stared into yours.     “Have a question, honey?” her cigarette between her pointer and index, she coughs before placing it back into her mouth.     “Uh, yeah. A-actually.”     A pleasantly surprised face covered her calm expression, looking at you with curiosity, she nods, telling you to continue.     “...Do you have a crush on Gojo?”     She looks at you, bewildered, before pulling the cigarette out of her mouth. Chortling turning into coughing, she spits into the grass.     “Oh NO honey, I can’t even picture dating a guy, actually, especially not that monkey. What made you think that?”    Waves of relief rushed over your body, and you realize how stiffly you were sitting up. Relaxing your shoulders, you take a swig out of your ramune.     “Uh, I-I don’t know. I saw you two u-uh... Really close...”     Shoko smiles, her eyes crinkle at the side as she did. Scoffing a little, she places the cigarette back between her lips, taking a deep inhale before exhaling.     “We were talking about shit, no bother, oh hey, Geto’s back.”     You stare at where she’s pointing, Geto’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets. He had a toothy grin on his face, and strands of hair strayed from his bun as the wind whipped against him.     “(Y/N)! I have news~!” he screams, approaching the picnic with long strides.     Your heart jumps out of your chest, did he talk for you instead, and got Gojo to confess?     “I set you and Gojo up!” he sang, sitting down with a heavy thud and digging his hand into the picnic basket, sticking his tongue out as he searched for snacks. He looks at you sadistically, thoroughly enjoying the shocked expression on your face.     “WHAT?”     Shoko snickers a little, before changing it into a cough as you glare at her.     “Yep, he’s coming back now, so you better prepare!” yanking out a snack, he peers down. “Fuck yeah! Dried squid!”     “ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING IGNORE HOW YOU JUST SET UP MY CONFESSION WITH GOJO SO CASUALLY?”     He looks up at you, sharing a look with Shoko before both burst into laughter.     “(Y/N) being angry is a fucking knee slapper, isn’t it Shoko?”     ‘Who the fuck uses the phrase knee slapper, Geto?”    Ignoring Shoko’s sarcastic comment, Geto stared up at your figure. “Anyways, go for it sweetheart.” Geto calmly responds, Shoko still laughing.     You splutter, cursing Geto under your breath and everyone under his family tree for raising such a child.     “Aw hey now (Y/N), no cursing me! I know you’re doing it, and hey look, here he comes! Shoo lovebirds!” he waves his hand. Shoko, in an attempt to calm down, pulled her knee into her chest and giggled into her arms.    You match your line of sight with his, Gojo’s lanky build was quickly approaching. Instead of his usually scowling face, he seemed more relaxed.     “Yo.” he scratched the back of his neck as he walked up to the group, studying the grass. “Sorry for blowing up.”     Geto stood up, patting Gojo’s back. “There there, truthfully no one gives a fuck! Actually, I don’t know if you remember but (Y/N) over here requested your audience, bye bye now!” shoving Gojo in your direction, he stumbled a little, before scrambling and placing his hands on your shoulder.     ‘Sorry.” he murmured, a light blush crept up to his cheeks. “had to try to grab onto something or else I fall flat on my face.”     You found your cheeks also getting warm, you touched your skin, thankful that he was looking in another direction.     “Yeah. No problem.”     “Fuck off, you two! Flirt somewhere else!” hollered Geto.    “OKAY, HOLY SHIT!” hollered Gojo back, rolling his eyes before he looked down at you.     “Geto told me you wanted to talk to me about something.”     Your breath hitched, and you nodded nervously, he cleared his throat, arm snaking around your waist.     Shocked by the sudden realization that he had his arm wrapped around your fucking waist, your heart was now pounding out of your chest, eyes wide.     “The plot thickens.” Shoko lazily laid her head down on Geto’s shoulder, he grinned.     “That’s my fucking child right there.”  —    Gojo walked with you on a long, narrow path. Trees as a sort of canopy hung over your head, rustling with the wind. No people in sight.     He cleared his throat again, looking down at you.     “Uh, here looks really nice. Pretty peaceful, and there’s seating.” he gestured to a bench with his unoccupied hand.    You nod as he pulled you a bit closer into him, before letting go.     A whine almost leapt out of your throat before he slammed your hands over your mouth, for all you knew he wasn’t going to ask you out, and rather ask you directions to the nearest bathroom or some shit.     “Hey, sit down.”     Snapping out of your daze, you nodded, sitting down and staring at the opposite direction of wherever he faced.     You wished you had the courage to stare at his face, to look at his sunglasses while he ruffled his snow white locks. His defined collarbones, and his chiseled jawline and...     “So! What did you wanna talk about, (Y/N)?” you whipped your head to stare at him, jumping a little as you did so.     “Um.” FUCK, what were you supposed to say?     “...Lovely weather we’re having?”     Gojo scoffed, leaning towards you. He really did know how to work a person. Breathing heavier then you were when he pulled you closer to him, you looked at him, anticipating whatever he would say.     “I know that’s... Not what you were asking to talk to me for. Let me guess, you have a crush on Geto and you want to ask me how to get him to like you?”     ‘What! No!” you responded exasperatedly, hiding your face with your hands.     “I... Don’t have a thing for Geto!”     “What was that?” Gojo paused, before pulling at your sleeve. “Hey, I couldn’t hear you.” joking teasingly, he fixed his askew sunglasses.    “I DON’T HAVE A THING FOR GETO!”     He jumped back, rubbing his temples and sighing before chuckling.     “You didn’t have to be that fucking loud! Holy shit that hurt my ears.” rubbing them, he looked at you with a laugh.     You noted that his friendly behavior was back in business, as opposed to the serious one he had adopted as soon as you started hanging out with Geto.     Suddenly, the atmosphere changed as his laughter died out, both of you silent.     “Then... Who do you have a thing for?” Gojo whispered breathily, crossing his legs.     You opened your mouth, about to respond with every bit of power that you had left inside of your already frazzled body that he was the one that you had a thing for, and the one you had a thing for for multiple fucking months. You closed it before you could, taking a deep breath in.     “Hey.” leaning closer into your face, you swore you could count every hair strand that he had. He breathed heavily as well, and his chest heaved, he placed a hand onto your shoulder.     “It’s okay, you can tell me.”     You shook your head, looking away once again.     He cursed to himself, was he too straight forward? Or were you that stupid, did he have to confess himself?     No, he didn’t want to damage his pride. He wanted you to confess, to tell him how much you loved him, and the things you wanted to do together.     But what if you were going to tell him that you had a thing for Shoko or some shit?     “Come on, (Y/N), I won’t judge you.”     ‘No!” you shook your head furiously again, “you’re going to judge me!”     “I wont, come on, spill!”     You bit your lip, twisting yourself to look at him, tears dawning on your eyes. Diving headfirst into his chest, you whined. Fuck it all.    “I like you, Gojo.”     “...What?” he wrapped his arms around your head, looking down at you sniffling on his t-shirt.     “I like you, I like you, I like you DAMN IT!” you whined, banging your fists against his chest weakly.     “Woah, hey there little baby.” he pushed your head gently off of him, kissing your red, sweating forehead gently.     “I like you too, (Y/N).    

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Place Like This 3

Warnings: this short series includes dark elements including noncon, violence, mentions of mental illness, mentions of contraception, and other explicit content. I’m not your mother, curate your own consumption.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve gone too far to back out now.

Note: Okay, writing this, I thought hey, I can keep it to three parts... and this could be an ending but if you guys want one more part, I’ll do an official finale.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You finally broke the surface, floating and bobbing on your back. You were dizzy, your head pounded and your lungs burned. Your body felt heavy and you couldn’t help but shiver as a fire crackled nearby. 

You opened your eyes. Your mother sat with your head in her lap, you were wrapped in a thick duvet before the fireplace, and she pressed her warm palms to your cheeks.

“She’s awake,” She said. “Girl, you really scared us.”

A shadow neared and you flinched as Andy knelt beside you. You let out a weak moan but could only wriggle in the duvet. You coughed and shook your head.

“Get him away!” You rasped. “Ma!”

“Shhhh,” She traced along your cheekbone. “It’s okay. It’s just Andy.” She looked up. “She must be delirious.”

“She’s lucky I got to her when I did.” He replied and reached to touch your forehead. Your teeth chattered. You felt the cold deep in your bones. “But she’s still cold. If it’s hypothermia, we gotta keep her warm, at least until morning.”

“Yes, of course,” Your mother rocked your shoulders. “Oh, thank you, Andy. You saved her. I can’t-- If you hadn’t been there.”

Andy sighed and waved away her words. He stood and crossed to the fire. He fed it another long and looked to the old grandfather clock in the corner.

“It’s past midnight. You should sleep. She’ll be fine.” Andy said. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Nonsense, I’m her mother. I should be here--”

“You been trying not to drift off for the last hour. You’ll do her no good if you’re exhausted,” He said. “I’ll take over. Don’t worry.”

“You’re too good a man, Andy Barber.” Your mother smiled and tutted. She caressed your cheek again and Andy handed her a cushion to place under your head as she moved from beneath you. “Well, I suppose there had to be at least one in this godforsaken world.”

He took your mother’s hand and helped her stand as she groaned at her aching knees.

“Go. Sleep. When you wake up, she’ll be better.” He assured her. “Alright?”

“Okay,” She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Thank you… have a good night.”

“You too,” He bid. “Go on.”

“Night, dear,” Your mother called to you. She hadn’t called you anything but ‘girl’ since you were a child. You clung to the duvet and your arms brushed against your bare torso.

“Good night,” You croaked as you remained paralysed before the dancing flames. 

You wanted to beg her to stay but Andy turned and glared. A silent warning. Your mother turned and went up the stairs. You watched her helplessly and sucked in a breath as you listened to her footsteps and then she open and shut of her bedroom door above.

You sat up. The effort made you light headed and you hunched over as you moaned. Andy was beside you in a moment. He urged you back down with a hand on your shoulder. His hair was messy around his head and he wore a different shirt than earlier that day. 

He must have dived in after you, but why?

You hugged yourself and shivered again. “I’m naked.” You said.

“We had to get your clothes off so you didn’t freeze,” He sat back as his eyes searched your face. “You almost drowned. I barely got you back before the storm began.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“You wandered onto a frozen river. That’s hardly my fault.” He said tersely. “And I was nice enough to drag you out.”

“All I did was follow you,” You grumbled. “Then you… you attacked me.”

He scoffed and his jaw squared beneath his thick beard. His eyes glowed in the fire light and he reached into his shirt pocket. He pulled out the pack of cigarettes and opened it up. He slid one out and placed it between his lips. 

He fished around for a sleeve of matches hidden in his pocket and sparked one off the strip. He lit the smoke, the wisps blowing out from the corners of his mouth as he dug deeper in the pack. He pulled out the photo. He unfolded it and looked at it, holding it against the carton with his thumb as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips with his other hand.

“Two smokes to the left, five to the right, the corner of the photo bent just enough to keep it in place.” He mulled. “You’re a shit detective. I know, I used to work with them.”

You looked down guiltily. He took another puff and grimaced.

“Not much of a smoker but sometimes when I’m thinking too much I have one.” He blew away the smoke and stretched his arm over you to flick the cigarette into the fireplace. “My wife and son. They’re dead now. Whether I talk about it or not, but I prefer the latter.”

He put the photo back in the pack and reached behind him to place it on the low coffee table. He turned back to you and poked his tongue out between his lips.

“So, what is it you thought? That I killed them?” He scowled. “I didn’t, not in reality, but maybe it was my neglect, my denial that killed them. But it wasn’t me.”

You stared at him. You tried to sit up again but he quickly caught your shoulder and held you down.

“I came here so I didn’t have to talk about it or think about it. I came here to get away because everywhere I went I saw husbands, wives, children; families, all happy, all alive. And it made me so… angry.” His nostrils flared as his grip tightened on your shoulder. “Then I meet you. Your mother. You two can barely stand each other. Perfect. Nothing to envy, just as miserable as me.”

You pushed your arm above the blanket and grasped his wrist. You tried once more to sit up and shove away his hand. He quickly twisted his arm away and his fingers stretched across your throat.

“Doesn’t kill the loneliness. In fact, it makes it worse.” He sneered. “Doesn’t it?”

You squinted at him as you latched onto his wrist. He didn’t squeeze but held you firm enough to keep you down.

“I heard you. In the shower. I was curious how you coped with being alone all the way up here.” He smirked. “I can’t say it didn’t inspire me.”

“Let go--”

His fingers tightened and strangled your voice from you. He got to his knees and his other hand gripped the top of the duvet. He tore it away and bared your naked body. The heat of the fire washed over your skin as you tried to hide yourself. He was quick to straddle you as he kept his hand on your neck.

“Get off--” You dug your nails into his cuff.

“Shhh,” He bent until his nose was almost touching yours. “You don’t wanna wake your mom. Trust me. She’s sick already.” His lips curled. “You wouldn’t want her to get hurt because of you.”

“You wouldn--”

“She’s a cranky old wart.” He snapped. “But you…” His other hand tickled your side. “You’re her daughter, you love her, you want to keep her safe.” He backed up and his thumb ran along your hip and his fingers curled around your flesh. “You would do anything for her, wouldn’t you?”

You gaped at him and your lip quivered. You swallowed and nodded as he loosened his hold on your neck. He let out a small chuckle and slid his hand down to cup your chest. His eyes followed as he played with your nipple.

“You know, I heard the best way to warm someone up is skin to skin contact.” He moved further back and dragged his nose along your throat and chest. He nuzzled your nipple and flicked it with his thumb. “And no doubt that adrenaline I feel pumping through you will help.”

“Please…” You whispered. “I won’t tell--I won’t say anything.”

“Shut up,” He lifted his head and grabbed your chin. He squeezed so hard your jaw felt as if it would break. “I don’t want to hear you.”

You shuddered as he looked up at you. His other hand moved below him as he drew his knee back and forced it between your legs. He pushed his fingers against your cunt and you kicked your legs around him. He caught your thigh and pinched.

“You’re a stubborn bitch.” He growled and fell onto you. He rolled over and took you with him. Your teeth chatter as you were exposed entirely to the room. “Stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about her.”

You pushed yourself up and stared him in the face. You blinked in horror.

“You do what I say and she’s safe. That’s it.” He shoved you up so you straddled him. “This little living arrangement won’t be so bad with some compromise.” You nodded as he grabbed your wrists and held your hands to his chest. “Listen. Carefully. Think about that river and how much worse I could do to an old lady.”

You winced and he slowly slid your hands over his shirt.

“I want your mouth.” He sneered. “I’m sure you can figure out what I want you to do with it.”

“Andy--”

“Not another word,” He shoved your hand lower so it was nearly between your legs. “These things happen. The fire gets out of control, help is too far away; a pity you were both trapped inside.”

You recoiled and tore your wrist from his grasp. Panicked your hands shook as you fell back and barely caught yourself. Slowly, reluctantly, you righted yourself as he watched you. He folded one arm behind his head and then the other and smirked. 

You closed your eyes and shuttered as you rested your palms against the front of his jeans; the twitch there added to his words. He sighed as you flicked the button of his fly loose and opened your eyes. Your hands shook as you pushed the zipper down and your hot breath puffed from your nose in frantic gasps.

Your eyes were glossy. Don’t cry, you told yourself as you gripped his jeans and he lifted his hips with a low chuckle. He was amused. His briefs were slid down next and the elastic caught on his arousal. Your fingers brushed his tip as you unhooked them and rolled them down. 

Your fingers twiddled in the air as you looked down as his cock. Then you glanced at yourself, your nakedness, and quaked. You couldn’t decide if you were more cold or afraid. Both, you thought.

“Do you need detailed instructions?” He taunted.

Your eyes snapped up and you scowled at him. You gripped his cock without look and moved back on your knees as you bent. You opened your mouth and he reached down to grasp your chin again.

“Keep those teeth to yourself.” He warned and let you go.

You lowered your gaze, your tongue was sour and your stomach churned. You poked your tongue out and swirled it lightly around the head of his cock. He groaned and you pressed your lips to his tip. You felt as if it was all happening in half-speed but you had to go on. 

You slid your mouth around him and his hand stretched across the back of your head before you could pull away. He pushed you down until he was at your throat. You grunted and he forced himself deeper. You extended your neck and choked as you took all of him, unable to breathe as your head pulsed even harder.

“Like that,” He let up and you slid back only to have him force you back down again. “Yeah that’s it.” He carried the motion, the sloppy noises of your mouth and throat filled your ears. “Take it. All of it.”

He was urgent, relentless as he bobbed your mouth down his length. His hand slipped as his other pressed to your head and he clutched you tightly. He moved his hips from below as your fingers curled into his hips. You were dizzy and dazed as you eyes rolled back and your chest felt as if it would burst.

He shoved you away all at once and you crumpled onto the floor beside him. You touched your throat and coughed, your entire body shook as Andy sat up, his hand at his cock.

“Fuck, you almost did it,” He snarled. “Fuck…” He hissed and took deeper breaths. “Fucking bitch.”

He slapped your thigh and you winced. He stood and pushed his pants all the way down. You sat up and touched your forehead as the room spun. He kicked the denim away from him, his socks and underwear caught in the folds. Another flutter of fabric and his hand was on your shoulder. 

He shoved you onto your back and bent over you. Your eyes struggled to focus on his as he glared down at you.

“I can’t decide…” He held your chin and pushed his thumb between your lips. “I like your tits… but the ass is nice too.”

You hit his wrist weakly and groaned. He snickered and pushed down on your tongue before he drew his hand away. He moved between your legs and bent them carefully. 

Your vision cleared, he was naked, his broad shoulders were limned in the fire light and you watched the thick muscles of his arms as they tensed beneath his skin. His chest was thick with the same colour hair as his beard and his raw power was corded in the muscles of his stomach.

He hugged your thighs and dragged you closer. His cock rested against your cunt and he slipped a hand between your bodies to guide it to your entrance. He poked you and slid it back up, he teased your fold as a low rumble rose from him. He stopped, once more as your entrance, and tilted his hips. 

You gasped as he pushed into you and slapped his hand on your thigh. He ignored you and got even deeper. He grabbed your other thigh and lifted your pelvis as he impaled you entirely.

You let out a wispy cry as he hung his head back and let out a long breath. He jerked his hips and you clawed at the rumpled duvet below. He moved your entire body as he began to thrust; short, sharp, mean jolts. The crackle of the fire was punctuated by the even, measured clap of flesh.

“That’s it,” He growled as he rutted into you. “You little bitch. Look at you. I can feel you, feel how much you need this; you want this.”

He bent over you and you tried to turn your face away from him. His hand framed your jaw and he held your head still. He kissed you roughly as he buried himself to his limit and drew away with a vicious nibble of your lip. He sat back on his knees and lifted you with him. 

His hand spread over one side of your ass and he began to rock you against him. His other arm hooked around your back and his fingers clung to your shoulder. He grunted as he slid you up and down his cock, your pelvis snug against him as the friction sent a wave of heat through you.

“You don’t get it. You don’t get-- how long-- I’ve waited-- I’ve been alone,” His bestial panting stuttered his words. “You don’t realise-- how much you hunger-- for human touch-- for anything-- until you’ve waited so long.”

Your arms were folded against his chest as your fingers curled into the muscles beside his neck. You whined as your core began to swell. You shook your head, ashamed of your building arousal. This man… you didn’t know this man or what he’d done. All you knew was that he could kill you and your mother. That he would if you made him.

“Fuck. Or maybe-- you were-- waiting for me,” He bent his head and nuzzled the crook of your neck as he continued to move you, his fingertips pressed deep in the flesh of your ass. “Huh? Did you think about it? Like I did? Waking up? Opening my door?” 

He snarled and sank his teeth into your throat, he bounced you faster against him. He left your flesh raw and sore as he removed his mouth and replaced it with his hand. He lifted his hand as he gripped your throat and lowered himself carefully onto his ass. He took you with him as he laid flat, still grasping your neck as he had you sitting atop him.

“Keep going.” He snapped. You kept your hips going as he squeezed and your head swam. “Did you? Think about crawling into my bed? Huh? Keep it quiet? Just a little human warmth for that frigid heart?”

“Andy--” You mewled as his other hand guided your hip. Your clit brushed his pelvis and you felt your surging orgasm. “And---”

“Shhh,” He dropped his hand from your neck and grabbed your other hip. He rocked you faster, holding you down so that the friction grew unbreakable. “That’s it. Give in.”

You covered your face as you came. Your thighs tensed around him as you let him move you and moaned into your hands. He chuckled and changed your motion. He bounced you atop him. You dropped arms and clung to his wrists. His eyes focused between your legs as he watched himself inside of you. He stuck his tongue out and snarled.

“Shit,” He swore and slammed you down over and over. “Get ready.”

He pushed his head back into the floor and every muscle in his body contracted. He groaned as he spilled into you and you quaked atop him. His warmth filled you and turned your stomach as he slowed you. He held you down, every inch of him inside of you, and panted as his nails dug into your hips.

He drew his hands back and rubbed his chest. His lips curved slightly and he patted his shoulder. 

“Here,” He said. “We need to keep you warm still.”

You raised yourself on your knees weakly. You swayed as you climbed off of him and fell down beside him. Your vision swirled and every ounce of strength drained from you. He rested your head on his arm and his hand lingered on you, threatening to crush your jaw. Then the tension left his grip and he stroked your cheek. You were startled by his gentleness.

“That’s what I want you to do.” He whispered as he rubbed your cheek with his thumb and his arm hugged you closed. “When it’s late, when you’re mother’s asleep, I want you to come to me. Keep me happy and I’ll keep you safe. Both of you.”

You gulped and blinked away your fearful tears. You shivered as another wave of cold crawled over you. He reached and bent your leg over him and he inhaled the scent of your scalp.

“Understood?” He said.

“Yes,” You breathed as you trembled against him. “I got it.”

Your hand slipped down as his cum leaked from you and cooled on your thighs. You sniffed as you rubbed your fingers through the mess. Your mind was hazy but you knew that wasn’t good. He sensed the movement and his hand found yours and he dragged his fingers through the slickness of your cunt.

“I came inside you,” He said as if only realising it. “Are you--”

“I’m not...” You murmured as you tore your hand away. “But I’ll go to--” You were blurry, you couldn’t focus. “I’ll go to town… tomorrow.”

“No, you’ll stay here,” He poked his fingers inside you and played with his cum. He hummed as if pleased with himself. “I’ll get it. I’ll take care of it.”

[saturatedboy]

Lord Heisenberg X Male!OC

New and first story series! This involves a male OC, however be free to use your own name instead. This book won’t exactly follow the plot of RE8, however ideas will be taken from it.

Male!Oc- Leonardo is a 27 year old male that works within a distance village called ‘Village of Ram’. Reason for it’s name is that its hidden away behind many mountains. His job includes being a literacy teacher within a new still-in-construction school. On the side lines he is a journalist, using his findings to post through the Duke to spread around the other villages. However not all his stories can have a happy ending, and I fear the story he’s within won’t go to plan. Would his story be complete with a happy ending, or will he loose- may the pages of his story be turned.

Warnings: Mentions the use of alcohol

Words: 3K

The Slaughter of the Ram

Chapter 1

They all stared at him with a lost look in each and every one of their eyes. Some had heads down, others blinked away any boredom that snuck in through the words that came from his mouth and the rest were whispering amongst themselves with a few giggles escaping. They really didn’t want to be here but they were forced by the leaders of their home to. It wasn’t like they could get education anywhere else.  

The sudden chime of a bell ringing had woken most of the young. Them all being swift in gathering their things together. The older male stood with chalk in hand, watching the young pack away equipment such as pencils, paper and books. Smiling at their eagerness to leave his class, with a clear throat he spoke over the loudness that they were causing with their chairs and voices. “Read pages 12 to 16 of ‘Mid-Summer Night Dream’ please in your break!” A chorus of groans left most of their mouths leaving the male at the front to chuckle. “I know you all are enjoying it all!”

“Sir, must we read? It’s Summer break-”

“Since when do we have Summer break here? You know it’s always Winter here Robert.” The girl with a high bun, neatly wrapped with a silk ribbon had spoken up as she gently flicked the boy named Robert on his forehead.

“So, Charity, it’s still Summer-” He shot back, grabbing her wrist before she could give him another flick. She struggled out of his grip, moving her arm about as she smiled at the others playfulness. The oldest male cleared his throat having heads turn towards him. With a silent chuckle, he banged his fist against his chest a couple of times to clear his throat fully before speaking.

“And here I thought you all wanted to go home.” Just as quick as the words left his throat, his future generation had scrambled out of the door and filed into the very small hallways to escape through the front. He stood there for a minute or two, waiting for all the students to leave fully before turning to face his desk and gathering his own equipment and papers to mark. Being in thought about his next meal of the night, he was drawn back out by a knock against wood.

“Knock knock, it’s your favourite.” A feminine voice that had the tone of a mother had spoken from behind him. Placing the last paper into his messenger bag, he stood and turned to face the old visitor with a bright smile. Leaning against his open door was a woman with blonde hair that was slightly mangled from her usual bonnet that she would wear that was now resting on her shoulders. Her green dress with an apron over the top had reached her ankles which feet was accompanied by black doll-shoes.

“Catherine, great to see you. How were the lessons? Heard you have some new sprouts.” The sudden expression change that came from her explained the whole day to him instantly. With a heavy sigh, she placed her bonnet back onto her head and spoke.

“They were terrible. I’m not even joking. They don’t understand how to make soup. Soup I tell you!” she continued to ramble on about her day, expressing her hatred towards the new students and old ones that she herself had to teach for cookery class. “-And then I told her to put her utensils back and-Hey! Are you even listening to me?” A pout fronted her lips, brows furrowed as she stared at the male with arms crossed over her chest as she watched him stare into space. With a harsh nudged of her, he blinked his eyes and turned t face her, hair swaying with his movement. With a smile and neck scratch, he spoke.

“I’m sorry Catherine. All this talk about food is making me thirsty. Say, would you like to join me at the Inn? I’m pretty sure some whiskey would move all your problems away.” He suggested, adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder and rolling his beige sleeves up to his elbows. With a soft sigh, the woman placed her bonnet on and brushed her dress down, getting rid of any wrinkles easily.

“Only if you’re paying, and I’ll take my usual of scotch thank you.” Together they walked, arms linked out of the room and school that was still being built. The snow wisped around them, being gentler as it lightly touched their exposed skin. With the walk being silent, they could hear the joyful cries of smaller children playing with sticks and others having the usual game of a snow ball fight. The sight made Catherine cringe. “Children, they are so much to handle.” she expressed her hatred through bending down gathering snow and then throwing a snowball at a child that was in her classroom that day. “And that’s for running with a knife!” She exclaimed as the child that got hit only laughed with a thumbs up, using their other hand to wipe the snow off her arm.

“You mustn't hurt the children; they are the reason this village will be up and running still in times yet to come.” The older male spoke, placing his arm back out for Catherine to grab, which she did almost immediately. Catherine sighed and rolled her eyes, tutting at his words.

“Now Leo, you know very much that if these children aren’t taught manners, then how could they ever survive. Haven’t you heard the news from the Village of Shadows?” She asked, however the older male, Leonardo, stayed quiet. She continued as the Inn was slowly getting closer in their reach. “Apparently mutant sorts of dogs have been wandering about, snatching children left and right. A young girl, age 14 I think, was attacked but luckily survived as her father with his buddies shot at the beast. Wicked I tell you, scarily wicked.”

They reached the Inn at the end of her words, a now unsettling aura around them both. Leo pondered to himself, being caught up in his thoughts as usual. ‘If the centre village is being attacked, then why haven’t they cancelled the festival for two days' time?’ Being dragged into the Inn, Leo huffed and coughed slightly at the sudden smell of cigars blocking his nose. The stench was something he had yet to still get comfortable with however he would deal with it for now. Letting Catherine lead him, Leo looked around the now bustling room of other men and woman, some children falling asleep in the wooden booths to small babies nestle in their mothers' grasps. Waving to familiar faces as he passed them, he quickly settles down at the bar as Catherine sat beside him. “Would you look at her,” She sighed dreamily. Watching her line of vision, Leo followed it to have his vision set on a beautiful woman. Long brown hair reaching her hips, a brow dress reaching the floor with a daisy took behind her ear. She was enjoying a glass of water with some other people that Leo hadn’t set a name with the faces.

“I swear we only come here for you to gush over women.” Leo snarked, rolling his eyes at his friends' actions of whistling loudly grabbing the attention of the girl who blushed deeply in return. Leaning back against the bar top, Catherine giggled and she raised her hand up to call for the bar tenders' attention.  

“What can I say, women are really pretty and you can't say much, what about you and Aaron? What happened there?” Her question aa caught in the air as she held a finger up to keep Leo silent, telling the bar tender their orders of whiskey and scotch. It was only after the tender had written down their orders that she signalled Leo to carry on as she turned on her buffet to instead sit straight and look at the lines of bottles behind the bar.

With a groan, Leo dropped his head onto the wooden top as he turned his face to look at her. “He let for another village, asked if I wanted to come. I declined and so he left without any trace of a ‘goodbye’ to me.” Catherine pursed her lips together, only for her lips to stretch into a smirk.  

“So, writing boy is free to date hmm~?”

“No, I am not. I enjoy being single and I don’t need no man in my life.” Beside him, Catherine held her laugh. Her faced flushed in red as she tried to keep her composure. With a hard slap on his back, Leo jerked up and sat with an angry look on his face. “Hey, what was that for?!”

“I just felt like it. All this talk about love is making me thirsty- EY BAR TENDER, PASS OUR DRINKS WILL YA!” With a nod from the said other, the bar tender came over to them dropping their drinks on the counter and nodding to them. With muttered ‘thanks’ of the best friends, he walked away to tend to other customers.

Both sat in minable silence, the odd talk about classes to talk about summer ideas passed through their conversations. As the night became young, the pace began to get more crowded and louder. Someone had started to play the harmonica, Catherine had wobbled away from Leo in search of the girl she called beautiful, the place began bustling with smokers and soon, Leonardo had turned on his buffet to watch everything go down. Smiling, he watched as happy couples were on the make-shift dance floor as a small band played, children were running in and out of the doorway and the odd student came up to Leo to ask about the pages they must read. “Just those would do, now go enjoy your night and holiday.” With a loose hand shake, the student ran off again into the crowd of people. Leo scrunched his nose as he downed his 4th glass of the night. The fiery taste burned his throat yet he was still perfectly fine. Looking around the room, he spotted multiple photos hanging of ‘Mother Miranda’. She was Somone that his community and others worshipped. She was their god in their eyes. Although Leo didn't quite understand her, he had his own hopes he wished to grant to her however dreaming is one thing to reality.

Just above the doorway was a sketch of his entire village. ‘Village of the Ram’ was quoted at the bottom of the sketch. There were multiple villages in the area, however his village had mostly resided away from Castle Dimitrescu as he remembered. Words between villages was sent through post by the duke. A large man who acted as a father to all. He was sweet, something Leo did find attractive however The Duke was far from his type. If he didn’t travel every day, Leo was sure to find himself maybe even falling in love with him however he treasures the fact both were close friends- but that never stopped him from never getting a discount of the other.

Placing his empty glass back onto the bar top, the noise from the bell of the door along with gasps and the sudden stop of music had caught his full attention. Turning towards where everyone was looking, the door was wide open with a fairly tall man standing in the way. With long strides, the man had walked in, banging the door close behind him. Murmured talk between everyone erupted at the visitor. The free and enjoyable air that was in the atmosphere had let as it was placed with an uncomfortable sense of feeling. “Ignore me will ya.” The deep, husky voice spoke as everyone went back to what they were doing. Music had started to play again as the new visitor had stride his way up.

Leo stared at the man, taking in his features as he walked practically up to him. Not wanting to attract attention to himself, he spun back around on his buffet and asked the bar tender that was nearby to order him another glass of whiskey. The tender placed the glass he was drying down and went to do as commanded. Leo had stated to take notes in his mind. ‘Big guy, sunglasses blocking his vision, fair long stipple of beard growing, really nice grey hair to compliment his face- overall the fucking Lord Heisenberg.’ Thanking again to the bar tender, Leo kept his eyes on his refilled glass that was stirring with his chosen liquid. He tried his best to keep his breathing down as the Lord of the Village of Shadows had taken the seat next to him. With a shaky hand, Leo sipped his drink this time only to have his eyes wander to look at the man beside him. To his shock, he could see behind the sunglasses to have a pair of greenish yellow eyes staring back at him. Pretending he wasn’t looking; Leo slowly turned his eyesight back onto his drink as he placed the half empty shot glass down. “I’ll have what he’s having.” The same deep voice spoke.

Distracting himself from the talk about him, Leonardo ran a hand through his fairly long hazel hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, using a bobble he had solen of Catherine to tie his hair back. Two loose stands fell in front of his face framing his jawline. “Do I get the pleasure of knowing the young man's name?” The lord asked, turning his larger frame to face Leo.

Biting his lip, Leo turned his head to face him, being greeted again with the same eyes that felt captivating. Without a second thought, he spilt his name. “Leonardo- or Leo would do.”  

The Lord smiled in satisfaction, a smirk stretching his lips. “So, you are more than staring!” He exclaimed, catching the attention of a few nearby people who were also sat at the bar, however as soon as they noticed it was the Lord speaking, they turned their heads quickly to carry on with their conversation. Biting back his frustration, Leo spoke up in a much harsher tone forgetting who he was dealing with.

“I’ll have you know it was you staring at me first you-”

A hand pulled on his shirt collar, making him look at the culprit. Catherine was there with the woman from before clinging onto her arm. “My apologise Lord Heisenberg, my friend appears to be drunk.”

“I’d have you know I am no light drinker; he was staring at me-” Catherine slapped her hand over his mouth and began to pull on Leo’s shirt.

“Looks like the alcohol is getting to him. C’mon it's time to go Leonardo.” Heisenberg waved the bar tender away as he placed down his drink of the same liquid as Leo.

“It’s quite alright miss, I find your friends attitude towards me quite...intoxicating.” Heisenberg leaned to grab his shot glass, only to down the whole drink in a mere second. Slamming the glass back not the top, he swung an arm over Leo’s shoulder and pulled him away from Catherine’s grasp. “It’s not every day I see new villages with such Firey attitude. I think I may stay around a little longer, what do you say Leonardo?”  

Leo groaned; he could start to feel the effect of the alcohol seeping into his blood stream. Oh, to just pass out in Catherine’s arms would be amazing. “You may be a Lord but that doesn’t mean you weren’t staring at me first.”

“Leo, drop it already.” Catherine hissed, bringing the woman on her arm behind her as she glared at Leonardo. Leo shook his head, letting the alcohol take over his movements as he slowly began to get tipsy.  

“He looked at me though,” He whined, pouting as he shot a glare of his own at the Lord who smiled in return. Oh, how he was loving this. The way Leo swayed slightly, to his slightly muscled arms being free and on show for him. To say a man was having such an effect on him that he couldn’t understand, he was enjoying every moment of this.

“How could I not look; you are like the Ram of the village aren’t you.” Heisenberg let Leo’s body fall against his, his arms wrapping almost immediately around his front. Catherine shook in her boots; her friend was at the mercy of the lord’s grasp. “Strong arms with an attitude to prove strength by. So fascinating.” Heisenberg hands got tighter as he pulled Leo closer to him, his scent of chalk and a whiff of whiskey became an instant comfortable smell.

Catherine watched her friend in worry, he was getting less sober by the second whilst she was gaining her composure to be sober. “Not to be rude but I think it's time I take my friend home Lord Heisenberg.” Catherine spoke, twiddling her fingers as the Lor stared at her with an unamused look.

“He’ll be fine. This is a 24-hour Inn, right? I’ll stay with him until he wakes up. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to a Ram like him.” Catherine balled her fist. Here her friend was half awake and half asleep and she knew she couldn’t do much against a Lord. She sighed and nodded, trusting him with his words as she turned on her heel and walked away, the smaller lady following her.

Heisenberg turned his attention back onto the male named Leonardo. ‘Such a pretty little thing, too bad you're a little annoying- or maybe it's because of the alcohol.’ Heisenberg thought as he placed Leo’s head onto the counter carefully, letting his whole slightly taller than average frame fall against the counter. Heisenberg watched as he slept, this was sure an interesting interaction.

He only came to here explore the other villages, for Mother Miranda to have some new bodies for the experiments. He never suspected to already be caught up in weird feelings with some random boy. He only knew his name anyway. “Leonardo,” He smirked to himself, pulling out a cigar from his pocket and lighting it. “Leo-...nardo.” He repeated but more slowly this time. The syllabus that rolled of his tongue felt good. The name was perfect. Looking at the sleeping male one more time, Heisenberg took a drag from his lit cigar.   “Leonardo, Strongest Ram in the mountains.”

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (12)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

WARNING: This chapter include a rather disturbing scene that is an organ exit, specifically, the intestines and...Other things. If you are a sensitive potato, I apologize for the potential disgust or potential nightmare following this passage. But if you are one of those who has already seen much worse with the saga Saw or Leatherface ... I don't know what to say.  ('-') Well then... Have a good read!

***

Do you like to go out at night, when the starry sky honors you with its presence? It's always a fascinating show and it's even more so when a shooting star or an aurora borealis appear. For some, it's the perfect view, the perfect time to show your feelings to the person you love. For others, it’s the spirits of those who have left us who, from heaven, look at us and protect us. And for the Nordics, the aurora borealis is the bridge that connects Midgard and Asgard.

But tonight, it was just a starry sky. A beautiful and mesmerizing starry sky that Danny was looking, leaning against his van. If he had a cigarette on him, he would have smoked it while watching the sky. But Danny wasn't a big fan of cigarettes, in fact he didn't like it at all. He didn't understand why people were ruining their health with such a poison. And the same was true for alcohol. He had no more than two drinks. He had already had the bitter experience of both too many times with his parents.

Hmph. His "parents." Danny calls them his tormentors instead. He remembers his “life” with his parents, his HELL’S life. Since he was young, Danny’s parents treated him like a dog, beating him and insulting him every time for nothing. He did everything to have the attention and love that a child must have. But he received nothing but hatred and disgust from them. His father was an alcoholic and a huge smoker. His mother smoked very little but was obsessed with religion.

For them, Danny was just a mistake, an unwanted child that they had to treat as such. And that's what they did. And if he thought he would find solace in making friends... he was wrong. His classmates made fun of him, and he found himself alone... always alone. He always avoided problems, but when he had to defend himself from the bullies of his school... He did. And if his parents played the comedy in front of the teachers, once at home, Danny was beaten to the point of losing consciousness once.

His years of college and high school were no better... but no worse either. In high school, he had managed to make friends, with whom he often made the wall to go and have fun at night. At that time, he no longer feared the wrath of his parents, especially his "father". He was a cute little boy when he was a child, and as a teenager he was a handsome boy, who attracted a lot of attention. His current appearance, apart from size, has not changed since.

How many girls wanted to go out with him? hundreds. How much did he have been in a relationship? Just two. And one of those two relationships ended badly. Yet he remembered an evening at the fair where he and his friends consulted a fortune teller. He didn't believe in this stuff but it was always a good time to have fun.

“Your life has been nothing but sadness and suffering my boy. But soon, a new life will be offered to you and one day you will finally find the one that is linked to you. The chosen one of your heart, is not here young man, but elsewhere.” she said. He remembers smiling, holding a laugh so as not to offend the old woman. But later, one of his visions proved correct.

“Where do you think you're going like that, you dirty little jerk?! You're not going anywhere! you hear me??” His Dad shout, beating him again.  

But this time... It had to stop. He had struck him in return, with a force he did not know himself. Her mother squeaked when she saw her husband on the ground, slightly frightened but still angry.

“I've done everything. Absolutely EVERYTHING to have even a little love! AND WHAT DID I GET?! ONLY BEATINGS AND INSULTS! ... But it's over. I get out of here and believe me that you will have NOTHING of me. You can both go to hell. I hope you die in the worst way there is in this f****ng world.”

And since that day, he has never felt so free and so alive. But what this fortune teller told him always kept him in mind. And if that person with whom he was related... the chosen one of his heart... was simply... You?

Since you both met, you are the only person who has been so pleasant, innocent and... kind to him. Of course, you’re acting like this because he was acting as Jed. But if Jed had never existed, if he had only been himself... Would it have been the same thing?  

Maybe... that you'd be in a relationship. He would love you as much as you would love him. He'd protect you, do anything to make you happy. Of course, he would never tell you about his... second "job." But what if you get sick? To the point of ending up in the hospital and dying just like...

“Danny...” He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to remember that. NEVER again.  

“Come on Danny. Stay focused. You can’t screw all you've made until now.” He whispers to himself before he puts his Ghostface’s mask on.  

He faced Mike's house. Certainly, Mckellan had to die first on the list but... the desire to eviscerate Mike was stronger, more enticing, more... Exciting. Danny licked his lips, thinking about how he was going to take care of his next victim. He had prepared everything, orchestrated and imagined the faces of the unfortunates who would find his corpse.

He's going to pay. Oh yes, he's going to pay SO MUCH for all the humiliation that Danny has endured since he started working at Roseville's Gazette. He's going to regret every fucking word he's said about him. Every fucking blow he's given her. And his attempt to strangle him... in front of everyone... will be the fatal blow that Danny will return to him.

Danny took a gift package and sneaked up to Mike's house. Even if he knows that at this time, everyone is asleep in this neighbourhood, it is better to be careful of a potential walker. He had parked in the same place as last time; he knew that no one ever went there.

He reached the kitchen window and saw it slightly open, so he took advantage of this opportunity to enter the interior without making any noise. He immediately walked to the basement, which was right in front of the kitchen, and went downstairs, realizing to the sound of the water that Mike was in his bathroom, taking a shower. Just perfect.

He rediscovered Mike's "playroom", the one in which he practiced his... disgusting and twisted fantasies. And he's the one we call f****ng psycho? Hmph, Danny found the champion in this category. He admits to being a little crooked sometimes, but really far from doing that kind of crap.  

He placed his "gift" on the table before taking an object heavy enough to knock Mike out. As well as a rope to be able to tie him. On the practical side, he didn't need to take anything. Everything was provided to him on the spot, for once.

"How nice you are Mickey... make it easier for me at this point, I would have almost taken you as an assistant ... if you weren’t a fucking pedophile and a drug addict. What a waste. Well, time to call.” Danny said taking out another disposable phone. He hid in a corner of the room, so that Mike would not see him and composed his number. Hoping he got out of the bathroom.

“Hello? Who the f**k is there?” said Mike on the other line. His voice was hoarse and tired. Looks like he smoked more than he should.  

“Hello Mickey...Miss me? I hope so.” respond Danny sneering about this situation.

“You little...motherf***er! I don’t know who the f**k you are but you gonna regret everything you do to me, you little shit!”  

“What a lovely language...Look since you didn't like my previous gift, I brought you another one... He's in the basement. Why don't you open it? I'm sure you'll like this one!”

“Go f**k yourself with your gift! You trapped me once! and it's already too much for me to leave you alive!” Said Mike enraged.  

“You could make an effort Mickey... I bend over backwards to find you a gift to make me forgive and you don't even want to go and see what it is. You're breaking my heart. Too bad... I guess I can send your photos to the authorities... they'll be happy to put you in jail.” Replied Danny getting ready to hang up.

“Rrrrr...Okay Okay ! I'm going to open your gift! You psycho...”  

He heard Mike heading towards the stairs before descending to the basement. the excitement caused Danny to tremble, he was waiting for only one thing: for Mike to open his "gift" and see his reaction before knocking him out. And once attached... the party can begin.

He went deeper into the darkness when he saw Mike advancing towards the table where the gift package was. Danny's hands trembled with excitement as Mike trembled with fear. After a moment of hesitation, Mike finally opened the package and backed away, swearing and holding back from vomiting.  

Remember when I said a "head was going to fall"? Well, a head actually fell. A man's head now stood on this table, and for Mike it was not unknown to him because he was one of his drug dealers, the one who offered him the best drugs.

The head was cut with sharpness and precision worthy of a surgeon. the face was marked by the drug that this man was consuming and dark circles almost as black as coal were plummeting before his eyes. Teeth had been torn off and tongue cut off.

Mike recoiled a few more metres before feeling a hand on his shoulder, when he turned, he had no time to react and received a blow, strong enough to knock him out. Danny looked at his unconscious body, a diabolical smile on his face. He took the rope and a chair, then lifted Mike's heavy body to attach it to it. He weighed his weight the animal!

“Look at this... What a beautiful sight. Ah Mickey... I will make you my most beautiful bloody work the world has ever seen... I'm going to make myself a huge pleasure to cut you pieces into pieces... make you suffer until your last breath.” Said Danny before laughing, thinking about all this.

Mike awoke after 30 minutes and, quickly noticing that he was tied to the chair, he tried to untie the ties. Unfortunately for him, Danny had tightened them up to the max. The latter came up to him, sneering, passing his gloved finger over the blade of his knife.

“Sleep well? I was starting to worry I thought I'd killed you too fast... it would have been a shame after everything I've planned for you... Don't you think so?” He said taking Mike's face with his hand.

“You’re f***ing twisted! You’re a crazy psycho! Let me go! Said Mike giggling in his chair.

“Oh... Not right now. We've just met face to face... I'm not going to shorten this moment so quickly.” replied Danny approaching his knife to Mike’s cheek. “So, do you like my gift? I must admit It wasn’t easy to find him because...He’s like a rat running everywhere in the house to steal some food. But he was so cooperative after I ripped off his tooth and cut off his tongue.

“P-P-Please...Don’t do this! Take everything you want!”

“Everything?” Said Danny before exploding with laughter. “But everything I want is your SCREAMS and you DEATH. After all you did, this is all you deserved. Fair enough don’t you think? But you know what? Since you're going to die... you’ll see your executioner's face.” He replied before taking off his mask.

“Ol...Olsen...”

“Oh, it’s true. My name is NOT Jed Olsen.” He said cutting off each of his hands with a blow, which made Mike scream a lot. “I’m Danny Johnson...The Ghostface. And I'm gonna take a real pleasure to slaughter you for everything you've done to me... You're not going to be a loss anyway. Because unlike you... I don't spend my fantasies on children."

He put on his mask on and thrust his knife deep into Mike's stomach, killing him like a pig. he pulled out the intestines that hung like ropes. he stabbed him many times, piercing his eyes, cutting his virility and his tongue before finishing him off with a sharp blow to the throat. Blood squirted everywhere, and in this show, Danny's crazy laugh was heard, he had nothing to fear, Mike had soundproofed the room for his... Fantasies. No one outside could hear it... and no one was going to come to Mike's house at this hour.

But it wasn't over oh no... He has to finish his work. He took Mike's intestines and cut them into fine pieces before throwing them all over his corpse like confetti that’s thrown at a party. After all, it's a party, isn't it? He took the drug dealer's decapitated head and carefully placed it in Mike's arms with a little message on it: "I, Mike Harris, killed this man without any remorse." And he placed Mike’s d**k on his mouth instead of his tongue which layed on the ground.

“I don't like being robbed of the star Mickey... but I confess that making you look like a murderer on this one makes me laugh a lot... We'll keep you the worst image of your existence, pedophile, drug addict and murderer. Jackpot. Now...Say Cheese!” Said Danny before taking a picture. “One down. There's one left. Sooner or later McKellan...you’ll meet the devil himself. And then... I could focus a little more on my sweet angel.”  

As with every murder, he erased all traces of his passage, and after making sure of it, he left as discreetly as he had arrived. Then he took the road to go home. But before sinking into the arms of Morpheus... A small visit is necessary.

The window of your bedroom was barely open, but that's more than enough for Danny to pass his knife and open the window just enough to pass. You were sleeping peacefully, the blanket almost covering your head but he could still see your face, your little and adorable angel face... He stood frozen in front of you for a few seconds, a smile on his face. Then he took a picture, an umpteenth trophy, an umpteenth memory.

“Don’t worry... Soon, all your problems will disappear... and I'd be the ONLY one to obstruct your thoughts. In a good way. Sleep well, my little sweet star...And never forget...” He said, kissing your forehead. “You’re mine. And only MINE.”

And then he vanished. As if no one had ever entered this intimate place... But little by little... The devil tightens his grip on you. Even if he will continue to scare you... He will do anything to be the only object of your obsessions.

And he won't let anyone near you.

***

(And it’s done! Phew thinking about Mike’s death wasn’t easy but I've made it! Again, I hope you’ll enjoy it like the other ones and if you got some questions or you just want to talk you can! For now, the French potato girl I am will get some rest! have a good week end everyone! See ya!)

[certifiedskywalker]

Hear Me Out - Diego Hargreeves

Anonymous said: Could you do a fic where the reader is number 8 and they and Diego have something going on like Alison and Luther. Maybe the reader doesn’t realize it

(Sorry that this is sooo long, I guess it could be considered a slow burn??? In a one shot??? I dunno. I hope you like it!)

Reginald Hargreeves was not the only person that had taken an interest in the spontaneous births that racked the planet on that fateful day in 1989; but he was the only billionaire which was why William Whackerman could only collect one child. He was in his seventies when he ‘adopted’ you and a heavy smoker. Despite his less than glamorous health habits, Mr. Whackerman, as he entreated you called him, maintained his fatherly figure for the next seventeen years of your life. Which compared to the years that followed, were quite content.

After Mr. Whackerman’s death, a sudden but not-so-shocking heart attack, you were sent to a special school. Only, the Umbrella Academy wasn’t just simply a school. It was also a messed up, backwards excuse of a family. Reginald was only present during missions and paid little mind to you, his ‘new number eight’, for your powers had not been hardened by training his own children had been forced to endure. 

He simply stapled you on the end of the numerical order and left you with Vanya. Although, you didn’t quite mind the quiet girl’s company. She told you about Fives, how Father hadn’t been quite the same after he had vanished, but also talked to you about books and art; things to find hope in that Mr. Whackerman had neglected to foster. Through the next years of your life, Vanya had become a steady river of companionship; her and Diego. The prized knife slinging, living weapon of Reginald’s little army had taken an interest in you from the moment you had arrived.

While he didn’t talk much, which was due to a stutter you had learned about by accident. You had walked into his room when you were still finding your way around the monstrously large house. He had been standing before a mirror, eyes locked with his reflection’s as he stuttered out a sentence full of ‘ms’ and ‘ws’. He had been so angry and caught off guard when you saw him that he was shocked into silence.

“It’s okay, Number Two,” you still hadn’t been properly introduced as Grace was out of commission for repairs, “just take it slow. You’ll find the words.”

 You had stayed with him until he broke the silence. “It’s Diego. M-My name is Diego.”

And that had been the start of it all. At meals, you sat yourself between Diego and Vanya to enjoy the horribly daunting quiet. Even with no words exchanged, a silent knocking of sneakered feet against each other told Diego you enjoyed his company and vice versa. Despite being in your teen years, your relationship had been so juvenile; never once had it stepped over childish affection. 

Diego would parade his growing collection of knives, how to aim just right but too nervous to get too close to show you how. Granted, your powers lacked the refinement and accuracy of Diego’s so many knives had clinked to the stone ground of the courtyard. With pink cheeks, he would always tell you that you did well.

Some nights, you would both camp out in the courtyard, peer up at the stars at you traded dreams like sweets in the darkness. You swore never to use your powers on Diego unless he told you that you could.

“W-What can you do?” You shifted beside him, turning to keep your eyes off of him.

“If I stare at you long enough, I can hear your thoughts. But I have to stare for a while which is why your dad won’t let me go with you on missions.” Diego must have sensed your disappointment for he had been quick to console you.

“Missions aren’t that fun anyway,” a lie, you both knew it, “plus it’s a sibling thing.” You remember smiling and knocking your shoulder against Diego’s. Even at seventeen he had been muscular and barely moved at the contact.

“I’m not your sibling?” You teasing had made Diego shift at your side as your teasing made him uncomfortable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to press, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Diego had murmured but you could see with ease the dejected look in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re not really a sibling ...Father...being his child isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Allison makes it work, with the magazines...I-I...can’t.”

You knew better than to press Diego and instead, you stayed at his side until the sun rose. Pogo had wandered out by then, water can in hand to tend to the flowers. He found you and Diego asleep, slumped against one another like rag dolls. The smiling chimp woke you both, sent you off to your rooms where you silently exchanged more chit-chat.

Outside of superpowered abilities and late night conversations, the two of you would communicate through the shared walls of your room through a secret language of knocks. Throwing an eighth child into the mix had disturbed any sense of order maintained by Reginald and with Klaus growing wilder by the day, it seemed the man had given up on some of his children; this included the systematic arrangement of rooms. In those sweet days, two and eight were neighbors, just like one and three. 

But like everything good, it came to an end. Although, you figured you had brought the end with you. The older you and the rest got, the harder Reginald tried to choke out your freedom. After Ben died, Klaus left to go...somewhere. No one was quite sure where but one day you all woke up and he was gone. Then Vanya, as soon as she got into college, she left and begged for you to come with. 

“What about the others?” Vanya had frowned then, tears had spilled down her cheeks. The Umbrella Academy had never been home for her, for you it barely sufficed. Yet you had found some solace in the patchwork family that had taken you in and chose to stand behind with a promise you would join Vanya when you felt ready to leave.

 That time came far more swiftly than you had expected. On that very night, you wandered through the house in search of Diego. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him behind. Although it seemed that Diego hadn’t felt the same way. 

When you stepped into the den, Diego was nowhere in sight. Grace had been idle in the kitchen, sat at the table with a cross stitch uncompleted in her grasp.

“Where’s Diego? Grace?” The blonde android, the mother of the child you had grown to call you closest friends. Beady, loving eyes met your gaze with a cherry-red smile.

“My little bird has left the nest,” she said and you noted how her programmed grin fell for the slightest second. “He’s gone.”

“You mean he’s just out, right? He’s no-”

“He left,” Grace said, the mechanics under the synthetic skin stalled, which gave her lips an almost human quiver. You felt your own resolve as it dropped and wet tears fell down the slopes of your cheeks. The memory of Grace reaching out and you pulling away was stuck in your mind as you packed your belongings. No there was nothing keeping you there.

So you left that next morning, bid Grace and Pogo ado with tight hugs. If the android woman hadn’t been programmed to smile, you would have sworn her lips were not as upturned as they were normally.

“Do promise you’ll visit and bring Miss Vanya back with you,” Pogo entreated, beady brown eyes pleading. You grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze with your silence. Pogo seemed to understand the quiet exchange and you gave the foyer of the Umbrella Academy one last look. Up the stairs on the landing, you made out the silhouette of Reginald watching on but not daring to give you a proper farewell.

Your childhood with Mr. Whackerman and your teenage years spent with the Hargreeves somehow even out your feelings on family. Living with Vanya also helped in that respect. You helped make ends meet between shifts at a local cafe and Vanya’s orchestra work. When she decided to publish her autobiography, you were both content; despite the pages of her writing adding a final flourish to an end of a peaceful chapter.

“He’s dead,” Vanya said, prompting you to look up from the table wedged between the living room and kitchen. With a furrowed brow you peered at her with her soaked hair and drenched clothes. The case of her volin hung loosely in her hand, droplets of rain still rolling off of the side.

“What? Who?” You stood up from your seat and closed your book. Vanya’s already dark brown eyes resembled shadows, glancing slowly around your face. Moth-like, Vanya’s limbs fluttered inside the apartment, the door still open behind her as she wandered in towards the light. The lines in her face were more defined as were the tear trails on her moistened cheeks.

“My father...”

It had been nearly a decade since either you or Vanya had stepped foot inside the Umbrella Academy. The brick building loomed, more nightmarish now than in your own childhood. Vanya stood at your side, small hands curled into tight fists. She too was feeling the whirlwind of emotions that had swept you along as well. 

“It’s alright,�� you said, but Vanya’s gaze remained trained on the door. “You took your medication today right?” 

Vanya nodded in response and it seemed that the mention of her routine grounded her enough to speak. “I don’t think it’s going to help much though.”

“We won’t ever know if we don’t go inside,” you pointed out. The reality of your words pulled Vanya’s eyes to yours. “You ready?”

“No,” she replied and stepped forward to open the door. 

The grand entrance hall was wholly unchanged. Looming statues that resembled more gargoyles than any other loving beast were the first faces to greet you. Persian rugs laid under a centerpiece table that held flowers, ones cared for by Pogo evident by the crispy, vibrant petals. The same chill that had rolled over your shoulders when you first moved in to the academy gripped you then with boney fingers tight. If the place wasn’t haunted before, you were certain Reginald wandered about the hallways now. 

“Is it me or does it-”

“Vanya? Y/N?”

The voice, while odd having not heard it in so long, comforted you in some irrational way. Spinning on your toes you turned to meet the mournful gaze of Allison as she stepped towards you. Her curls cascaded perfectly over her shoulders in the way that, when you were teenagers, never failed to strike you with awe. 

“Hi,” Vanya greeted, breaking the slight silence that had gathered. She stepped towards Allison and fell into what, from your eyes, seemed like a strained sibling hug. Part of you was glad your father, Mr. Whackerman, had only adopted you out of the forty-three children born. The thought of having such a stiff family relationship set you on edge.

“It’s so great to see you,” Allison said as she pulled away from the half-hearted embrace. When her eyes found yours she added, “to see you both.”

“I’m sorry, for your loss,” you said and tried out a bittersweet smile on the girl labelled ‘number three’. She returned the gesture and sighed.

“Father would be happy to see you here, Y/N,” she turned back to Vanya, “and you.” You bit the inside of your lip to keep from scowling. You knew that Allison was trying to be kind but to lie so obviously made you want to cringe. Vanya, ever stoic, remained silent. “I think Klaus is here if you want to-”

“She shouldn’t be here.” A low, gravelly voice interjected followed by the sound of heavy boots clunking down the stairs. “She should-”

The repeated message with the same eerily cold sentiment was cut short. A familiar pair of dark brown eyes landed on your form and you swore it was as if you and Klaus had traded powers. The dead memories of the Diego you knew danced before you, bleed into your mind like a freshly opened wound. 

Scars on his face showed his age more than even the slight bags under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t sleep soundly in a year, only napping for a few minutes here and there to keep himself afloat. Even with the stumbling step Diego took in your direction, he moved as a shadow; all dark and watchful with the eyes to match. Despite everything, he was still the Diego you had known when you were younger. 

If you had stared into his eyes any longer, you were certain his thoughts would fold open like the pages of the book that had driven the wedge further between you.

“Diego,” Allison’s voice cut through the tension that had amassed suddenly in the room. “Be nice, please.” His brown eyes pulled away from your gaze to glance at his sisters. Vanya didn’t dare to make contact with him. Her book had turned Diego’s feeling sore. 

“She shouldn’t be here,” he said again, not as harshly this time. He turned to hold your gaze once more and you swallowed hard. “Not after everything.”

With that, the boy turned man ascended the stairs to the upper level of the mansion. You watched him go, wondering what would have happened if you had found him before he left all those years ago. The thought normally made you bitter, angry because friends don’t leave each other behind; but watching him leave again made your heart ache with some horrible sadness.

“He’ll come around,” Allison’s voice once again broke through the silence. “Y/N, you should try talking to him. Diego was closer to you than any of his siblings, any of us.”

“He doesn’t seem in the talking mood,” you countered. Allison’s frown deepened and she nodded in agreement. 

“Where...Where’s Pogo?” Vanya asked, mouse like features darted around in search for the kind, ape butler. 

“He’s…..around,” Allison raised her hand and referenced the entire building, “I’ll go to find him. I’ll be right back.” Her heels clacked against the wooden floors, leaving you and Vanya in her wake. You spared a glance at the brown haired girl who was wandering into the family room, the sliding door pushed aside. 

Aside from new, antique looking furniture, the room felt unchanged. The beady eyes of mounted animals, prizes from Reginald’s many hunting expeditions, watchful as every, seemed to study you as you and Vanya stepped inside. A lifeless fireplace loomed beside a vast wall of book shelves that pulled Vanya to them almost instantly. The pages, magnets really, coaxed Vanya’s metallic eyes to one book in particular. 

“You gave him a copy?” You leaned over and caught sight of Vanya’s own book in her hands. Vanya’s lips parted with a readied reply when the padding of feet hit your ears.

“Miss Vanya, Y/N, how good it is to see you both.” Pogo gave you both a chimp smile before hugging Vanya then yourself. “I see you found your book.”

“Did...did he ever read it?” You heart broke at Vanya’s question and even more so at Pogo’s answer.

“To the best of my knowledge, I fear not,” he rested a soothing hand on Vanya’s arm. “He loved you, in your own way. You too, Y/N.” You couldn’t help but scoff. Not being in the original seven had given you an outside perspective.

“He hardly knew my name, except my last one,” you quipped sharply. Pogo gave you a saddened smile. Nothing said to him seemed to hurt him and you instantly felt guilty about your tone. 

“Yes, Y/N Whackerman,” Pogo turned and squeezed your hand. “Different names do not change the effect you had on the Hargreeves family. He loved you all.

“Like you said,” you frowned, “in his own way.”

“And that’s the problem,” Vanya murmured. At a loss of what to say, Pogo hung his head quietly. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to do now. Stay and look after the house? Move out, and if so, where? Reginald had never talked about back up plans; the man thought he was immortal. 

“You know, Diego suffers from this same idea,” Pogo explained, “perhaps you can find solace in one another during this time.” You felt your jaw clench while Vanya gave the butler a weary look. “I know he would enjoy speaking to you, Y/N. The two of you were close.”

“Well, we’re not kids anymore,” you replied lowly. 

“That may be true, however, like I said, you had a deep effect on him, this family. Have faith in yourself.” Pogo’s words left a sour taste on your tongue. One that reeked of rotten regret and bitter grief. You could have reached out, made plans with Diego, any of the siblings really, but you hadn’t. Instead you let yourself be hurt by Diego’s wordless, goodbye-less departure, and only spoke to Vanya. Your powers fell into disuse and you feelings numbed.

Vanya went back to pursuing the array of volumes and novels on the shelves when Pogo trailed off, out the room to address a stumbling sound that sounded too much like Klaus to be good. The stuffiness of the family room, if you could even call it that, drove you back into the foyer. Your feet developed minds of their own as they guided you up the dark oak stairs. Fingertips trailing along the polished handrail, you could remember the speck of  hope that had swelled in your gut when you first arrived at the academy.

That seed had bloomed with wilted leaves and lackluster colored petals. The only ray of sunshine you saw was Vanya’s company and Diego’s friendship. You had to learn to grow without the latter. Never once did you think about returning, only in your nightmares, but here you were. After you trudged up the steep stairs, you found yourself in the hallway that defined your last few adolescent years. 

The first room on your right, the one that had been yours, was shut tight. You and the rest of the kids in the academy had switched rooms so many times that you were surprised when you could remember which door led to who. Across the hall’s creaky floor boards lied Vanya’s door and horribly cramped living space; it would be evil to consider it a bedroom. 

“Well, long time no see.” You barely heard Klaus over the noisy wooden floors but the sass was unmistakable. You turned to see him, taller than you remember with a rather eclectic manner of dress. 

“Yeah, it has been,” Klaus smiled and opened his arms. You met him in the middle in a tight hug, one that was rarely shared in your youth. “How have you been, Klaus?”

“Oh, you know,” Klaus pulled away with a lazy grin, “fantastic. Daddy’s dead!” He raised his hand in a partying gesture and coaxed a slight smile to your lips. 

“Morbid much?” Klaus only shook his head and dismissed the question.

“I am the one that sees dead people,” he teased as he started to walk past you, “Diego’s around here, by the way.” You turned to meet his green eyes and Klaus wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Just thought you would want to know.”

In silence, Klaus disappeared down the hall and soon, out of sight. Swallowing hard, you turned and looked down towards the rest of the doors. It was eerily quiet, all the way down to Luther and Allison’s bedroom doors. With you lips pressed tightly together, you continued down the hall. That was, until, you noticed Diego’s bedroom door slightly ajar. A childish curiosity drove you towards it and it felt like you were falling into an old habit.

Your breath caught and heart thundered in your chest at the sight. Notches in the walls where, in anger, Diego had flung knives. You had witnessed many of them firsthand, late at night while Diego ranted about his father’s training. The distant memories seemed so close now as you traced your fingers along the divets. They were the only things in the stark room that still held hints of Diego.

Despite the open door, it seemed that Diego hadn’t stopped in to relive the times you were both close. You, on the other hand, lingered. You sat on the edge of his bed which had been stripped of the dark sheets he used to like. The bare mattress was far from comfortable, but you leaned back anyway. Your body bounced slightly, the top of your head brushing against the head board. A smile spread across your lips at an echo of a memory.

To give voice to it, you lifted a hand that curled into a slight fist. Gently, you rapped your knuckles against the wall. A dull knock sounded, requocheted through the room and filled your ears with a strange sense of emptiness. Long nights of back and forth with Diego, communicating solely through thuds on the shared wall.

Another knock echoed, replying to your greeting so quickly that it shocked you. You sat up in the uncovered bed with a shocked jolt. Staring at the wall, you waited. After a minute of silence, the same knock repeated with an added question. Are you still there?

Quietly as you could, you wandered out of Diego’s old room and back out into the hallway. Your bedroom door was still closed but, after a pregnant pause, you pushed it open. Blank walls greeted you with empty stares just as Diego’s darkness filled the room. He laid on the bed, only to sit up to face you as you entered. 

“Guess we still know the code,” he quipped and you felt your heart twinge. 

“I guess so,” you murmured in reply. Your eyes never left Diego as he shifted against your old bed. The temptation to stare, to read this thoughts rushed over you like a wave. Luckily you broke through the surface and tore your eyes away; only for a moment though. Black, long sleeved shirt and pants obscured most of him, but as you studied him, you realized something else entirely. “Are you bleeding?”

“What?” “Is that blood?” Taking a step towards him, you gestured to his side. Diego’s shirt clung tightly to his abdomen, visibly damp. His dark eyes flicked from you to to his side and back again.

“N-no.” The stutter would have been endearing, to some part of you it was, but fear rose up in your throat to choke it out. Without a word, you stepped towards him. Diego jerked back from your extended hand and reaching fingers. “Y/N.” 

“Just stop,” you snapped and it seemed to shut him up. Carefully, your crooked your fingers up and hiked up the hem of his black shirt. The wet peeling sound the fabric made as you pulled it up from his flesh made your skin crawl. A gash on his side, too blunt to be from a knife, was carved under his shirt. 

“I’m fine, it’s just a graze.”

You gave him a wild look, “you’re fine? Bleeding isn’t fine.” Diego let out a huff in response and you let the fabric fall back into place.

“I’ll get Pogo to take a look at it,” you said, starting towards the door.

“Don’t, Y/N, I got it. I’m fine.” He stood up, apparently too quickly as he winced, his eyes squeezed shut to stifle the pain. 

“Yeah, sure,” you grumbled, “you’ve never been good at lying.”

“Then see the truth.” Just as your hand reached for the door knob, Diego’s words sunk in. That current of your powers seemed to sweep you under the water of temptation, swirled you around until your eyes found Diego’s. He stood straight, stiff, as he stared into your eyes. 

“Diego-”

“You said that you wouldn’t, I’m saying that you can. Do it.” You averted your eyes to the floor to hide your intrigue.

“Don’t be such a child,” you whispered before looking up at Diego once more. “Just let me help you, okay?”

“I’ve never been good at lying, like you said, or talking. That includes asking ...asking for help. You know that.” You furrowed your brows and shook your head.

“That’s your problem,” you replied, “I’m not going to read your thoughts and fix it.” Diego took a step towards you and you felt your heart begin to race. You hadn’t looked away from him and specks of his thoughts were already filling your mind.

“I’m not telling you to fix m-me,” Diego mumbled, “I’m asking to you hear me out, listen to the things I can’t explain.” The streak of honesty that stemmed from Diego shocked you but not as much as the thoughts from his mind that were filtering into your own. 

“You’re hurting,” you murmured and Diego seemed taken aback. “You side...it’s not that. Something else.” Images of you as a child raced by your head, the rest of the Hargreeves siblings, then you again. Smiles, laughing, Diego stuttering in front of his mirror.

“Y/N,” his child voice echoed within the remembered thought, “I-I love y-you.” Then your face again, through a window talking to grace. The sound of rain pattering, the night Diego left he had hesitated on the doorstep to the academy. Regret, you felt his regret so strongly. It was then you forced yourself to tear your eyes away from Diego. 

You stared at the floor and waited for your own thoughts to return to you. As Diego’s feelings and thoughts bled away, you managed to look up. His dark eyes were wide, jaw clenched tightly as he lips pressed into a firm line. 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

“Keep looking,” he pressed and you shook your head.

“No, I need you to tell me.” Diego groaned at your persistence and stared at you, visibly displeased.

“I’m not good at talking,” Diego reiterated, “you know that. I...knew if I went back to talk to you I would never leave. I would have stayed here, with you, gone anywhere and…”

“I wasn’t going to stay,” you slipped in as Diego trailed off, “I wanted you to come with me.” Diego met your gaze and you saw the sadness there.

“But would you have loved me like I love you?”

It was a question you knew the answer to. You had known it since you were young and thought things could be perfect. Those nights when you and Diego would stay awake for hours on end talking, you could feel the truth. You were just so young and confused and every relationship you had ever had was for your powers alone. Yet this was the first time Diego had ever asked you to use your powers. He was not Mr. Whackerman or Reginald Hargreeves; Diego was good, not perfect but good.

“Yes, I would have. I can,” you rephrase and you saw something in Diego snap. Some twig part of him broke into splinters into your hands as he stepped towards you one more time. There was less than a foot of space between you and you reached a hand for his. 

“I wish I could read your mind,” Diego said and you felt your heartache a little. 

“You don’t have to,” you murmured and gave his hand a squeeze. “You don’t have to, you know.” Diego’s knitted brows relaxed and he leaned down gently. The tip of his nose brushed against yours lightly, tantalizingly close. You could feel the pressure mounting, the feeling of his lips a thought away when there was a knocking at the door.

“Diego? Have you found dad’s-oh! Y/N, hi. I didn’t know you were here.” Diego sighed heavily and his head dropped when you turned to face Luther in the doorway. He was broader, shoulders larger than you remembered.

“Hi, Luther,” you greeted with a tone that read clear with annoyance. As always, Luther seemed to be above that and continued on.

“We’re going to meet in the family room downstairs soon. Diego, can you come to dad’s room with me?” You looked to Diego at Luther’s question and saw dejection in his features. 

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’ll be there in a second.” Luther nodded and ducked back out into the hallway. Diego grumbled and you smiled at him softly. 

“Go,” you squeezed his hand once more, “he won’t stop unless you go.” Diego frowns and lets go of your hand. “Make sure to get Pogo to check your side, alright?” Diego rolled his eyes and you shook your head.

“We’ll talk later?” He asked as he pushed open the door of your old bedroom. 

“Yes,” you replied and Diego nodded. You could have sworn that he smiled but he was gone too fast for you to be certain. Diego wasn’t perfect, far from it, but he was good; and that was good enough for you.

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 10: Heated Discussions

Nami wasn’t sure how long or how far she’d run through the winding backstreets of Grimm, but she didn’t stop until her legs literally gave out from under her, forcing her down onto the hard pavement of a dark alley.

Panic gripped her vital organs like a meaty fist. Her body was on fire, sweat dripped down her spine, and every inhalation was agony as her lungs struggled to draw in the barest amount of oxygen needed to keep up with the blood rushing through her veins. The Heart Pirate jumpsuit was suffocating her, holding in the unbearable heat and chafing her hyper-sensitive skin, but she was too weak and exhausted to take it off, forced to broil alive in the heavy canvas.

For a few minutes she just lay there, her sole thought a silent plea for her heart to stop trying to beating against her ribcage like Luffy’s angry punches. Orange hair darkened with sweat, tears streaked down her face, and the only sounds she could make were ragged sobs.

“Miss? Are you alright?” came a deep, authoritative voice from above her, and she trembled. Was it Arlong? Had he found her? Was he going to beat her for running away? Kill Nojiko and Mr. Genzo? Destroy some innocent villager’s house as a display of his “superior” species’ power?

Please, please don’t hurt them! I’ll be good, I swear! Nami thought, squeezing her eyes closed and drawing her legs against her torso to protect herself. It would hurt, but if she had to choose between getting hit and seeing the people she loved suffer, she’d take the blows every time.

“Miss, speak to me—are you hurt? Were you attacked? Do you need a doctor?”

Did she need a doctor? Dr. Nako had fixed up fevers, scraped knees, and stomach aches since she was a child. But no, Arlong would find out and make an example of him. Nami managed the barest shake of her head, curling even more tightly into a ball, mentally begging the stranger to just leave her alone before he got himself killed. People who tried to help her always died the most horrible deaths. Memories of Bellemere’s final moments, of blood and skull fragments splattering as Arlong shot her point-blank, made Nami start hyperventilating. She couldn’t see that again, not even to a stranger, no no no no nononononononono…

Large, strong hands rested on her back and legs, gently straightening her out. “I know you’re scared, but you need to stop pressing your knees into your stomach—it’s keeping your lungs from expanding fully, so you’re not getting the air you need.”

The voice was steady and knowing, at just the right octave to cut through the heavy pounding of blood in her ears. Unconsciously she obeyed, knees lowering, and her lungs swelled as she took several deep breaths.

“There you go. Just focus on breathing. In. Out. Here.” Nami flinched as she heard fabric rustling, trying to draw into herself again as she imagined her mystery man drawing a weapon, but she immediately relaxed as her nose was greeted by the clean, familiar aroma of oranges and mikans. “Breathe this in. Citrus scents reduce stress and anxiety.”

Like an ocean wave, the thought of Bellemere’s grove washed over her. She remembered the safety of her mother’s arms, how her hands always smelled like mikans no matter how many times she washed them. She remembered Nojiko making mikan shampoo for the first time, giving her a bottle before going off to rob more pirates. She remembered the delicious fruit dishes Sanji would make her, the times she’d find Zoro napping under the trees, the iced tea she’d share with Robin, watching Chopper try a fresh mikan for the first time, and knocking Luffy over the head when she caught him pilfering her fruit.

The smell made her feel safe. Like she was home, with her family and nakama.

After a few minutes her heart rate began to slow, aided by the hand on her back rubbing deliberate, soothing circles between her shoulder blades. “That’s better. Miss, can you sit up? I want to make sure you’re not injured.”

Nodding mutely, she allowed the man to help her sit upright and lean against the hard brick wall. She could breathe again, but she was still miserably hot. Lethargic fingers clumsily tried to unzip the top of her jumpsuit, desperate to vent the heat that had built up inside the thick fabric. Her hands were halted by a larger pair quickly grabbing them, however, as the voice shouted, “Whoa, whoa! Miss! There’s no need to get undressed!”

Her eyes finally opened enough to see a blushing, wide-eyed man around thirty years old staring down at her in shock and embarrassment.

“Please,” she whimpered, struggling weakly against his grip. “I’m burning up.”

His cheeks turned a dangerous shade of scarlet at her needy tone, and he looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “Are you at least wearing something underneath?” he choked out.

A tiny smile lifted the corner of her lips. It seemed her savior was either a gentleman or just incredibly shy. Good thing she’d had the foresight to wear a sports bra and shorts under the jumpsuit. “Uh huh. Please, I just…I need it off.”

“Ok. I’ll…help you undress, then.”

She audibly moaned in relief when the cool air touched her sweaty skin. Invigorated, she managed to peel the whole uniform off, a satisfied smile coming to her face as her temperature finally dropped. It was like jumping into a cool lagoon on the hottest day of the year, banishing the wretched layer of stifling humidity that had trapped her.

No longer panicking or burning up, Nami’s mind at last cleared enough to realize what she’d done. She’d managed to disobey every order Law’d given her—she ran off on her own, ditched her companions, and removed the uniform. She was in so much trouble when he found her.

She didn’t disillusion herself with the idea that he wouldn’t. Law’s abilities could let him scan the whole island and teleport her back to his ship in an instant if he wanted. It’s not like she could escape Grimm, either—she had no boat, no crew, and no real idea where to go, and she was smart enough to know he’d still probably spend his days searching for her, if for no other reason than she’d attacked his crew.

Oh, damn, I hope they’re alright, she thought, burying her face in her hands. Her wind attacks weren’t deadly, but accidents happened, and she really couldn’t remember exactly what she’d done in her panic. What if it had been strong enough to trip Ikkaku and crack her skull open on the street? What if it knocked Shachi over and re-broke his arm? What if it sent Bepo stumbling back into a stray, sharp piece of wood, impaling a vital organ? Nami might have been scared, but she’d never forgive herself if she’d brought any harm to them.

An awkward cough caught her attention, and forcing the dark possibilities that she’d killed her friends from her mind, Nami distracted herself by finally giving her savior a proper look.

Even sitting down, the man was large. About Bepo’s height by her estimate and as muscular as Smoker, he had a hooked nose, X-shaped scar across his chin, and blue eyes that stood out starkly against the black domino mask and the shadow cast by his pointed, plumed hat. His ginger hair was a few shades darker than hers, with thick sideburns framing his chiseled, lantern jaw. Nearly his entire outfit was made of midnight blue leather, from his gloves to his thigh-high boots to his bolero. Clipped to his broad shoulders was a long cape, also blue but lined with burgundy red on the inside. His chest was exposed, showcasing the enormous X tattoo adorning his torso, and at his side were two massive weapons—a saber and what appeared to be the lovechild of a mace and an axe.

That’s “Red Flag” X Drake, Nami realized, the Supernova’s wanted poster instantly popping into her head. He wasn’t quite as notoriously sadistic or infamously violent as Law or Eustass Kid, but it was easy to remember a pirate who’d defected from the Marines. She’d assumed he’d headed off to the New World like the others, but perhaps he was like Law and thought it better to wait things out?

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, deliberately keeping his eyes on her face.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Th-thanks for the h-help,” she replied with a stammer, desperately trying to convince her heart there was no need to panic again. Of course, her instincts knew better; X Drake was a pirate on the Grand Line and a Supernova at that. His bounty was even higher than Law’s, and probably for good reason. She was alone with him in a back alley with no crew to back her up, whether Straw Hat or Heart Pirate. A woman with her limited combat prowess stood a snowball’s chance in hell against him in a fight, and he was big enough to crush her throat with one hand if he wanted to.

Yet…he seemed nervous. The redness had faded from his face, but there was still a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. His posture seemed casual at first glance, but she could see the subtle tension in his neck and shoulders. Most noticeably, he was doing his damnedest not to look anywhere below her chin, even though his greater height gave him an excellent view of her exposed cleavage.

Drake was a rival pirate and former rear-admiral of the Navy, but she got the feeling that if she really needed to, she could easily escape by flashing him.

“Good to hear, though I really don’t think you should be stripping around here, and especially not asking strange men to help you. Most might consider it an…invitation,” he said, awkwardly scratching his jaw as he glanced away, blushing harder at the thought.

A small smile curved her lips. Yup, he was definitely trying not to stare at her half-naked body. Who would have thought a man as infamous as X Drake would be so bashful? “But not you?”

“I prefer my invitations to be enthusiastic and explicit,” was his stiff reply as he leaned against the wall beside her. Nami didn’t miss the brief, almost guilty glances he stole at her from the corner of his eye, though. “And certainly not from a woman in the midst of a panic attack.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said with a wink. She was feeling much more clear-headed and like her normal self now that her brain wasn’t being cooked, and the knowledge that X Drake had such an easily exploited weakness to her body made her relax. “Why do you carry around mikan perfume, anyway?”

The pink tips of his ears deepened. “It’s not perfume; it’s orange extract. During my time in the Marines, I had many comrades who suffered PTSD or panic attacks, and aromatherapy has been proven to be good for reducing anxiety—particularly citrus scents. I rarely experience them myself anymore, but it’s still useful during periods of extreme stress. Seemed to be rather effective on you,” he said with a raised eyebrow before quickly glancing away.

Taking pity on him, Nami drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them so he wasn’t given such a shameless view of her bountiful chest. “I grew up in a mikan grove. The smell reminds me of home.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, a look of understanding softening his stern features. “Does it? No wonder, then.” He handed her the bottle. “Dab a little under your nose and rub some on your hands—better safe than sorry.”

Gratefully she did so, relishing the refreshing, familiar scent of her favorite fruit. “Thanks. Guess I’m lucky you’re the one who stumbled across me, huh?”

“I’ll say. I was passing by when I saw you running like the Devil himself was after you. Piqued my curiosity, and I suppose not all of my Marine training has left me; simply had to help a damsel in distress.”

She chuckled, though it turned into a soft moan of relief as the bare skin of her back pressed against the cool brick behind her.

Drake’s brow furrowed as he looked her over critically. “You really shouldn’t sit around half-dressed out here, you know.”

“Because of men without invitations?”

“Because it’s far too cold to be walking around in so little, and with the sheen of sweat on your skin, you’re at a high risk of getting hypothermia.”

Nami stubbornly shook her head, though she frowned at the feeling of the damp ends of her hair against her bare shoulders. “Honestly, that damn jumpsuit was so hot, freezing to death sounds like a dream come true right now.”

“Yes, but I’m sure your crew would be quite distraught to find out you’d died in such an ignoble way.”

She stiffened at the mention of her crew. Was he talking about the Heart Pirates or Straw Hats? “Yeah, fair enough. I just really don’t want to get back in that thing,” she replied, toe nudging the boiler suit disdainfully.

Drake scoffed in agreement. “Considering whose emblem is on it, I don’t blame you.” Standing, he hoisted her to her feet as if she weighed nothing. Now Nami could see just how tall he was, completely towering over her. She thought he might get all flustered again as her cleavage was once more on display, but his intense blue eyes were fixed upon the swirling tattoo on her shoulder. “I must say, I’m surprised—I didn’t believe the outlandish rumors that Cat Thief Nami had joined the Heart Pirates, even after Jinzo started babbling about why he didn’t have my money. I figured he was just making excuses. And yet, here you are.”

She stiffened. Well, now she knew who the broker’s next appointment was supposed to have been. “Ah. I’m guessing he was mad?”

A red eyebrow quirked, and his lips twitched upwards in amusement. “He was quite vocal about what he hoped to do to you for costing him so much belli. You’re lucky I found you instead of any of his men. A woman by herself is already taking a great risk wandering around in these back alleys—even more so when she’s made an enemy of the island’s most unscrupulous black market broker.”

She gulped at the implication. Damn, Law really was right, wasn’t he? If someone other than Drake had come across her while she was helpless on the ground…

“Well, I appreciate the rescue,” she squeaked, deciding it was time to head back to the Polar Tang. Glancing up and down the alley, she tried to recall her steps. She’d pretty much run blindly through the alleyways, but she was certain her natural sense of direction could get her back to the docks. Sure, Law would be mad at her for running off, but he was a hell of a lot safer than Jinzo. She shivered at the memory of the man’s hateful stare as Law had led her away, certain she’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble if she ran into him in the grungy alley.

Mistaking her shiver for the cold finally getting to her, Drake unclipped his cape, wrapping it around her shoulders with a flourish, bundling her in tightly. “There. It would be a shame for you to die of exposure before I got you back to the ship.”

A small whine escaped the back of her throat as she was engulfed by the thick fabric, once more feeling stifled and too hot. She struggled to escape the long cloak, but he only wrapped her up tighter.

“Let me go,” so moaned pathetically, face once more flushing as her heart sped up. The material was softer than the boiler suit, but it was still heavy and suffocating, and Drake’s lingering body heat in the fibers made it worse. “It’s too hot!”

“Miss Nami, unless you’ve recently eaten some sort of fire-based Devil Fruit, I can’t imagine how you could be anything but freezing,” he said with a stern frown. “I understand you’re afraid of me, and with good reason, but I won’t hurt you if you come quietly. I’m not in the business of harming hostages unless absolutely necessary.”

“Hostages?”

A hint of a sly smirk tugged at his lips. “I confess, I am a bit miffed at you for causing Jinzo to reschedule on me—he owes me a lot of belli, and I was hoping to be off this damn island by now. Kidnapping you is not only cathartic, but profitable; your bounty’s hardly worth turning you in for, but perhaps Jinzo might make me a better offer. Or I could put your skills to use in exchange for your eventual freedom. After all, your thieving skills are quite notorious, and Trafalgar must have recruited you for a reason.”

Oh no. The last thing she needed was to be the slave of another pirate captain. “Um, how about you ransom me to Law?” she suggested hopefully. “I’m sure he could pay whatever you were going to ask Jinzo, and then some!” Angry as the Surgeon of Death might be about her running off and getting kidnapped, surely he’d be able to rescue her if he knew X Drake had her, right? It’d be easy with his powers, and there’d be no need to buy her back when he could snatch her away with a flick of his fingers.

There was a brief, angry flash of sharp fangs as he growled, “Because the less I have to interact with that smarmy bastard, the happier I’ll be. Don’t think I don’t see through your little scheme; why would he pay when his powers can easily steal you back? Besides that, I’ll be damned if I let that ingrate gain an extra advantage by poaching Straw Hat’s thief.”

“Let me go!” she cried. Drake’s sudden switch from surprisingly helpful to a legitimate threat to her well-being demanded she pull together what little energy she had and escape. The problem was she was running on fumes and in the clutches of an eight-foot-tall former Marine whose bicep was thicker than her waist and could probably crush her skull with one hand like a rotten apple if he desired. Fighting was definitely out, and with the way he’d swaddled her in his cloak, she couldn’t even flash him like she’d planned.

Desperate, Nami attempted to wiggle out of the heavy fabric, but he grabbed the collar and tugged her close, looming over her threateningly.

“Don’t bother trying to run—even if you did somehow get away, you’re covered in both my scent and the citrus oil.” For a moment, his eyes shifted, harsh, reptilian yellow overtaking the blue, and he took a deep breath through his nose. “In a rancid cesspool like this, I’d hunt you down easily. If you come quietly, I promise you will be treated well; perhaps even invited to join my crew, if you play your cards right. If you resist, I’ll have to switch the orange extract for chloroform, and the next time you wake up, you’ll be in Jinzo’s possession.”

Once more, her heart began to race, but thankfully her mind wasn’t overcome yet with memories and panic. “Look, I…I’m sorry if I accidentally caused you trouble, but Jinzo’s a cheapskate who’d rather kill you to get me than actually pay. And if what you’re worried about is my alliance with Law, it’s just a temporary partnership! I don’t even like the guy!”

“Nobody likes Trafalgar; he’s a sadistic asshole.” A massive arm wrapped around her tiny waist and he hoisted her up so her feet dangled above the ground, pressing her against his scorching chest. “And if that’s truly the case, then you have even less reason to resist—think of it as a rescue.”

“From the way things look, the only one she needs to be saved from is you, Drake-ya.”

A blue aura surrounded them, and in an instant Nami was out of Drake’s grasp and firmly in Law’s, one tattooed arm wrapping possessively around her bare midriff while the other leaned Kikoku casually on his shoulder. Hard plains of muscle pressed against her back, and she could feel his sharp chin rest on the top of her head.

Nami’s body was tense, but not as much as it had been with Drake. Some of it had to do with the essential oil keeping her calm and the cool air once more regulating her temperature, but it was mostly because, dangerous as he was, Law was the devil she knew. No matter how pissed he might be at her disobedience, he would protect her; she was his property, right? Arlong had certainly punished her for her misdeeds against him, but he’d never allowed anyone not on his crew lay so much as a hand on her.

Pirates didn’t like other people touching their things, after all.

“Been a while, Drake-ya,” Law’s smooth voice caressed her ears. “Making a move on my Cat Thief, I see. How’s that going so far? Have you told her how many people you’ve killed? I’m sure that always impresses the ladies.”

“Trafalgar,” Drake spat, glaring disdainfully between the empty cape in his hand and the man standing ten feet away. “I’m quite certain the woman belongs to Straw Hat, not you.”

“Hmmm, normally, but since I was nice enough to save his life, I thought it was only fair that he let me borrow her while he trains.” Law chuckled and Nami felt his nose playfully nuzzle her temple as his hand slid up to splay just beneath her breast. “You know I’ve got a thing for feisty gingers.”

The former Marine snorted in response as he donned his cloak. “Well, since she’s apparently the reason Jinzo had to reschedule our appointment, I think it’s only fair that I ‘borrow’ her for a while as recompense.”

“Sorry, she and I have dinner plans tonight. Besides, I did you a favor—he’s not as good as Kimo when it comes to honoring deals. Had the nerve to try and give me less than a third of our agreed-on price. If it hadn’t been for my little kitten here, you’d be trying to negotiate with a corpse.”

Hearing Law call her “kitten” made Nami shudder, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. It felt disturbingly familiar somehow and made the hairs on the back of her neck rise as goosebumps rippled across her skin.

Drake crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Jinzo’s unscrupulous scum, but he owes me money. Money that your ‘little kitten’ managed to swindle from him, the way he tells it.”

“If he’d brought the amount Kimo had agreed to pay me, I wouldn’t have needed her uncanny haggling skills.” Law cocked his head to the side. “Out of curiosity, how much does he owe you?”

“600 million belli.”

“He only had 725 million on him for his four scheduled deals, and he only planned to pay me 200 million. So even if his other clients were working for free, he had no intention of paying your asking price.” He let out a wry chuckle. “The man must have a death wish, looking to cheat two Supernovas in one day.”

Drake swore under his breath. “Fine. If he won’t pay me properly, I’ll just have to wring his neck and take the money from him. But considering how you still ruined my plans to leave this wretched place on schedule, I’m ruining your dinner plans. Now hand the Cat Thief over,” he growled, gripping the hilt of his saber. “I have a greater need for her than you.”

The nodachi on Law’s shoulder shifted in response. “Look, not that I’m opposed to you getting laid—anything to get the stick out of your ass—but Nami-ya’s mine.” The woman in question could practically hear Law’s smirk as he continued, “Why don’t you try the brothel the next street over? I’m sure the lovely ladies there will be happy to service your ‘needs’ for the right price.”

Drake gaped for a moment before sputtering, “I’m not looking to sleep with her!”

“Now don’t be bashful, Drake-ya! Sexual urges are completely healthy and natural, and I certainly don’t blame you for wanting a sexy redhead. Hell, maybe she can finally help you ditch your V-card.”

“You know I’m not a virgin!” he snapped, face flushing dark red in humiliation a second later as he realized precisely what he’d said.

Law’s grin widened, more than happy to take advantage of the slip. “Oh yeah—I do, don’t I? Never imagined I’d get to tame a dinosaur, but anything’s possible on the Grand Line, right?”

Nami’s jaw dropped as her cheeks heated. Holy crap, Law and Drake? Together?! She had so many questions.

“You didn’t ‘tame’ me,” Drake growled as he forced himself to calm down, though his ears still burned to match his ginger hair.

“Oh? So you’d let any man ride you? Slut.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but Nami swore she could feel Law’s erection against her lower back. Was he seriously getting turned on by this? She began to feel warm again as her own arousal spiked, much to her irritation. Could anyone blame her, though? Drake was not an unattractive man, and the mental image of him and Law battling for dominance in the bedroom was certainly titillating.

“Trafalgar,” he snarled, eyes morphing into their yellow, reptilian state, “either you hand over the woman right now or—”

“Or what? You’ll take her from me? Sorry, Drake-ya, but you know what a possessive bastard I am. I found her first, so she’s mine.”

“I don’t see your name on her,” he said petulantly.

Law spared the woman in his arms a small glare. “She’s a crafty kitten that likes to slip her leash sometimes, but I’m happy to stake my claim here and now.” A tattooed hand cupped her breast as her rolled his hips against her ass. There was no mistake what he had in mind. “Feel free to watch—you might learn something.”

There he went calling her “kitten” again, and his shameless groping nearly made Nami choke. She’d grown used to his flirting and suggestive touches, but he’d never been this blatant! Hell, compared to this, he’d been downright chaste when they’d made out in the mansion hall and when he’d given her that hickey! Was it his weird form of punishing her for running off? Or was it just to mess with Drake? Law certainly seemed to enjoy riling the other pirate up, but did he need to go so far as to threaten to fuck her in front of him to scare Drake away?

More importantly, would that even work? Law’d basically been putting her scantily clad figure on display for him throughout the entire conversation, but Drake didn’t seem nearly as flustered as he’d been when it had just been the two of them. Maybe Law’s insults and innuendos had distracted him enough to look past Nami’s full breasts and sensual curves before, but the way he was looking at her now…

It was similar to the hungry gaze Law sometimes gave her, only more feral. Animalistic. And she wasn’t fully sure if it was directed at her, the Surgeon of Death, or both.

Whichever it was, Law was playing a dangerous game of chicken, and if Drake snapped, she was the one caught in the middle.

The idea that the argument might morph into a violent, sexual brawl made Nami renew her struggles. “Will you both quit fucking talking about me like I’m some stupid toy you’re fighting over?!” she snapped, twisting and writhing in Law’s arms. “If you want to measure dicks, go ahead; just leave me out of it!”

Both men seemed momentarily taken aback by her outburst, though Law recovered quickly enough to tighten his arm around her waist. The sheathed nodachi pressed threateningly to her bare throat, saying without words that she was dancing on thin ice, and Nami reluctantly stilled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw gold eyes narrow at her defiance before his expression morphed back into a cocky smirk. “See, Drake-ya? This little kitten’s way too feisty for you to handle.”

“I only hope she scratches your eyes out,” he countered, though he did back off slightly, his eyes returning to normal. Ignoring his rival, he addressed the Cat Thief directly, though it was obvious her bare skin distracted him. “Miss Nami, I’m sure with Straw Hat missing you’re only associating yourself with Trafalgar out of desperation. However, I can assure you that you can do far better than this psychopath.”

Before she could answer, the alley was once more engulfed in blue, and Nami groaned as she found herself redressed in the Heart Pirate uniform. Behind her, Law sneered, “Maybe she can, but she’s paying off Straw Hat’s life debt to me, so she’s mine until her contract is up. I might be willing to lend her to you in exchange for a few favors, but that’s something you negotiate with me—not her.”

The jumpsuit was hot, uncomfortably damp with sweat, and combined with Law’s arms wrapped tightly around her, even more suffocating than before. Nami’s heart was once more beginning to race, chest rising and falling hard as she fought to draw breath. It wasn’t as bad as before due to the essential oil still lingering under her nose, but her body was slowly reverting back into fight or flight mode.

Tension rose as the two pirates glared at each other, neither noticing nor caring about the woman’s distress.

Pulling off a leather glove, Drake’s hand shifted into a reptilian claw before their eyes. Flexing his talons menacingly, he growled, “A debt, huh? Well, if I kill you right now, that should clear any debt away and she’ll be free to do as she pleases. How about it, Miss Nami? Agree to help me strip Jinzo of every last belli he’s ever earned, and I’ll be happy to tear Trafalgar’s head off.”

“You threaten that every time, Drake-ya, and yet the only ‘head’ you’ve ever gotten—”

“Law, please, let me go,” Nami cut in, desperate to gain some breathing space and shed the jumpsuit like a snake would its skin. His body heat made it even worse, managing to seep through the dense canvas into her back, and his hot breath at her ear sizzled the damp skin. Despite the lingering smell of citrus, her pulse fluttered, anxiety strumming her veins like guitar strings.

“Stay right there,” the dark doctor rasped, Kikoku dropping to press against her waist while his free hand slid up to wrap threateningly around her throat, “or I really will put a collar on you.” Glancing back up at the former Marine, Law flashed a dangerous smile. “You know, Drake-ya, there’s no reason we can’t all get along. Hell, why don’t you join my crew? The pay’s good, and I wouldn’t mind my very own pet Allosaurus.”

Drake’s mouth twisted in a deep scowl, though Nami didn’t miss the way his eyes briefly dropped to Law’s hand as it trailed down to trace the Heart Pirate logo on her chest. “I’m no one’s pet, least of all yours.”

“You say that now, but I think you’d enjoy it—I know I would. Two sexy, fiery redheads, naked in my bed is pretty much my ultimate fantasy. I’d even let you help me train Nami-ya—she needs to learn obedience, but I know you’ve got no trouble following orders, eh, Navy-boy?”

For a moment, Drake’s eyes lingered on them, and she swore it looked like he was considering it, especially when Law nipped her ear, making her gasp, her chest expanding upwards as her cheeks deepened to an obscene shade of scarlet. She could imagine she looked like a wet dream; sweaty hair tousled, face flushed, cleavage peeking out of the jumpsuit’s opening, lips parted as she panted lightly. Law probably looked just as tempting, with his inviting golden stare, dexterous fingers, and wicked smirk.

Law was absolutely giving an enthusiastic and explicit invitation, and both pirates had shown that Nami’s opinion on the matter was a mere afterthought.

The man behind her shifted, and this time she was positive she could feel the Dark Doctor’s cock straining against her. “Law, please,” she whimpered, sweat breaking out across her brow.

“Mmm, much as I love hearing you beg, Nami-ya, you’re just going to have to be patient. Unless you want to put on a show for Drake-ya?” Long fingers pinched the tab of her zipper, slowly pulling it down to expose more of her cleavage. “Give him a taste of what he could have if he joins us?”

That seemed to snap Drake out of whatever lustful trance Law had lured him into, as his face went bright red and his scowl returned. “Ugh, you’re a disgusting cretin, Trafalgar. I’m not subjecting myself to your presence any longer.” Tipping his plumed hat, he spun on his heel. “If you ever come to your senses and decide to ditch this sadistic bastard, Miss Nami, feel free to seek me out.”

“Damn. I was hoping he’d try to call my bluff,” Law chuckled as the tall redhead disappeared down an alley. “I’d love to show him how I discipline disobedient kittens when they run off.”

“You’ve got the weirdest kinks!” she snapped, struggling desperately in his arms. The moist jumpsuit rubbed unpleasantly against her bare skin like wet sandpaper. The sensation finally brought to light why Law’s new nickname made her so uncomfortable—Arlong had often referred to her as a kitten. Usually as a term of affection, but also a way to further show how little he thought of her species, that he regarded animals typically kept as pets as more worthy of his respect than humans. “Let me go—I’m not your kitten!”

Law released her long enough to spin her around and start walking her backwards with slow, sure strides, gold eyes drilling into hers. “And yet it’s the most accurate description I can think of—you’re a clueless little kitten who has no self-preservation skills likely to get ripped apart by wild dogs!” With a thump her back hit the rough brick wall, but any relief the cool stone might have provided was short-lived as Law pressed his entire body against her front to trap her. “Ditching the uniform was bad enough, but running off on your own? Making a scene in public and attacking your crew? If you were even half as smart as you claim to be, you never would have taken such a stupid risk.”

“I wasn’t thinking—”

“Damn right you weren’t thinking!” he snapped. “I don’t care if you think the uniform’s ugly or uncomfortable, when I give you an order, you obey it!”

“It’s just clothes!”

“If it were just clothes, you wouldn’t have been the one to make it such a huge fucking deal! The fact that you couldn’t follow such a basic order proves you can’t be trusted.” Without breaking eye contact, he reached down, dragging the zipper up to her neck and buttoning the collar so not an inch of flesh south of her chin was exposed. “Now, unless you want me to make good on my threat to discipline you, you’re going to leave that as it is. You managed to punt any leniency I had for your bratty antics right out the window. We’re going back to the ship, where you will be confined for the foreseeable future. If I have to, I’ll chain you to a desk where you’ll spend the rest of the year drawing maps and sea charts for me.”

Her eyes widened at the threat. It was far too much like her dream; like what she’d gone through with Arlong. Panic made her adrenalin spike, and with ever less ventilation than before, the temperature inside the suit rose further. “Please, Law, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t—”

Furious that she was still trying to argue, his voice was as hard and biting as ice as he said, “I’m not interested in excuses, Nami-ya. You disobeyed me, and even more damning, you attacked my crew. I told you when we first met that I’d make you suffer if you brought any harm to them, and I intend to keep that promise.”

“I didn’t mean to! They were threatening me!” she simpered, trying to pull away, but like the man pressed to her front, the wall at her back wasn’t going to relent for the sake of a small, terrified woman.

“Threatening you? Ikkaku, Bepo, and Shachi? If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable,” he snorted, grabbing her left arm in a bruising grip when she tried to unzip the uniform.

“They wanted to tattoo me! To brand me as your property!” Unconsciously she clutched her shoulder, fingers digging into the scars left by her old tattoo. “I couldn’t let them do that to me. Not again.”

“And why would they want to do that?” he asked sarcastically. “Convince me before I cut out your slanderous tongue.”

“So that I couldn’t escape. So that no matter where I went or how I tried to hide, everyone would see that I’m yours,” she whispered, eyes dulling as she recalled the judgmental glares the villagers would give her every time they saw Arlong’s tattoo. Even if it had all been an act, they had cut deeply at the time, and even now she felt overwhelming shame.

Tsking in irritation, he finally gave her a few inches of space. “You make it sound like I’ve enslaved you—you’re the one who came to me, demanding the I let you settle Mugiwara’s debt. What we have is a deal; join my crew until it’s paid off. But it’s pretty hard to do that if Drake-ya or others make off with you, isn’t it? So if I have to make you wear a uniform or even tattoo my mark onto you, so be it.”

Nami’s mind clouded, fear firmly taking hold. She and Arlong had had a deal, too, and he’d used every dirty trick imaginable to deny his cartographer her freedom. What made Law any different? How did she know he’d keep his word and let her leave at the end of the year? What was stopping him from chaining her up and keeping her as a pet, from basically enslaving her even as he called her a valued shipmate?

It was too hot, her flesh felt like it was melting off her bones, blood was pounding in her ears, her scars throbbed, and her vision grew hazy as she began to hyperventilate. In her mind, Law and Arlong shifted and blended together, and trapped and scared against her monstrous captain, panic finally overwhelmed her.

“I’m not your fucking property!” she screeched, slamming her fists against his chest, nails attempting to claw at his face like a caged animal. Unwilling to let her gouge his eyes out, he grabbed her by the wrists, pinning her to the wall with his full body weight. “Get off of me! I’m not your fucking shipmate, or your kitten, or anything! I’d sooner die than let you use me again! I hate you!”

“Will you calm the fuck down?! What is your problem—” Law snapped, but his anger shifted to concern as he felt just how sweltering her skin had become and how erratic her pulse was. The last dregs of irritation vanished as he finally allowed himself to carefully study her, taking in her flushed and sweaty face, unfocused gaze, and shallow wheezes.

His brow furrowed as he stepped back, surrounding her with his Room and quickly Scanning her.

“Fuck,” her bit out under his breath. “So that’s your problem. Nami-ya, close your eyes.”

“Why the fuck should I do that?!” she screamed, attempting to dart to the side, but her escape route was swiftly blocked.

“Because this’ll be a lot less traumatizing if you don’t watch what I’m about to do.” When her eyes widened further, he smacked his forehead, annoyed at himself for his poor wording. “It’s the birth control medication I injected you with—you’re having a bad reaction to it. The chemical imbalance is giving you a massive panic attack, and the stress is causing you to overheat, which is slowly frying your brain. I need to remove the drug from your system, and considering how squeamish you are, I can promise, you’re not going to want to see how.”

“I…”

His expression turned desperate as he beseeched, “Nami-ya, please, I know it goes against your every instinct right now, but I need you to trust me.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded, forcing herself to close her eyes as tightly as possible and hold still despite her legs trembling with the urge to run. He was right; she needed to trust him. Law wasn’t asking as her captain, but as her doctor. He wouldn’t hurt her any more than Chopper would. He was trying to save her, and she needed to have faith that anything he did was for her own good.

“Room. Shambles.”

A strange sensation overcame her. It was almost like she was floating, and while she could still feel her individual body parts, it was…dull and disjointed, almost numbed, like when your foot falls asleep and you wiggle your toes.

Then came another odd feeling. The closest she could compare it to was what she imagined it would feel like to be a sugar cube slowly dissolving in a glass of water, but the heat and adrenaline slowly vanished, and bit by bit, her heart began to slow to a normal pace.

When she opened her eyes, she was sitting on the ground, the sweaty uniform in a neat pile by her leg. Law knelt before her, studying her face and body intently. His mouth was a hard line and his gold eyes cautious as he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“…cold.”

With a relieved chuckle, he pulled off his hoodie and carefully slipped it over her head. “Well, better than heat stroke and cardiac arrest.” He sighed, giving an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry the drug fucked you up so badly. I must have gotten the ratio off. I can’t even remember if I’d informed you of the potential side effects. At the very least, I shouldn’t have administered it when I was functioning on so little sleep—it was irresponsible of me as a doctor.”

Gratefully, Nami slipped her arms into the long sleeves, soaking in the residual body heat in the soft fabric. The sweatshirt was long enough to be a mini-dress on her, and she very nearly tucked her legs inside to block out the chilly air. Her skin was slick with sweat, and the cold air and stone beneath her was leeching the heat from her body. Now she understood why Drake had been so concerned about her lack of clothes. “It’s my own fault. I should have told you I was feeling weird. I just figured it was my body needing time to adapt and me being stressed about…stuff.”

The skin beneath the DEATH tattoos went white as Law gripped Kikoku harder. “No, it isn’t alright—I should have demanded a follow-up appointment to check how you were doing instead of putting my focus on fucking fertilizer. And I definitely should have noticed there was something wrong with you—you were literally having a panic attack in front of me, but I was too stubborn to acknowledge it.”

“Law, I know my body—I should have realized there was something wrong with me. And you were a little…distracted.”

“So, we’re both idiots, then?”

Nami couldn’t help the wry smile that tugged at her lips. “Guess so.” She glanced over at the jumpsuit. Part of her was nearly tempted to put it on due to how cold she suddenly felt, but one touch of the sweat-sodden fabric quickly changed her mind. “Look, I get that I don’t have much of a right to ask, but do I still have to wear this?”

Law frowned at the damp uniform. “Not until it’s been laundered and properly dried, at least. I’m taking you back to the ship regardless—I want to run some tests to be sure the birth control is completely out of your system, and you’re staying in the infirmary overnight for observation.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” she said sadly as the familiar blue aura overtook them. In a blink they were in the Polar Tang’s infirmary, their sudden appearance making Penguin jump from his place at the desk.

“Law! You found her!”

He tossed Kikoku to the first mate before hoisting Nami onto the examination table. “Yeah, but I’m going to need you to run some blood tests for me and fetch some clothes and toiletries from her room—she’s sleeping in here tonight for observation.”

Penguin nodded before rushing out the door, barely giving the navigator’s lack of uniform a second glance. Meanwhile, Law strode over to the cabinets, pulling out blankets, pillows, and towels. “What other symptoms have you been having?”

Rubbing her arms, Nami replied, “Nightmares and trouble sleeping, but that’s it.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep tonight?”

“I should.”

“Good, then I won’t give you a sedative. I’m not risking putting anything else in your bloodstream until I’m 100% sure what caused your reaction.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, “for removing the drug. And…not making me watch how you did it.” Law was sadistic and cruel, but that moment of compassion spoke volumes of how much he cared about a patient’s well-being. It was a fascinating juxtaposition—the doctor and the pirate. One that made her respect for him rise a little.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for trusting me.” He gave a small smirk as he handed her the supplies. “Assuming there are no lingering side effects I should be able to declare you well enough to go to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Her head shot up in surprise. “You still want to do that? Even after I attacked your crew? After I tried to claw your eyes out?” Good God, she expected Luffy to be that forgiving, not the Surgeon of Death!

“You did it under the effects of a drug that I improperly administered—I have no one to blame but myself. Plus, I already made reservations.” At her disbelieving expression, he shrugged. “Honestly, Ikkaku, Shachi, and Bepo weren’t even mad; they were more scared something would happen to you.”  

“Really?”

“Really. I was the one who was pissed.”

Draping a blanket over her cold legs, she snorted. “Clearly. Would you have really made good on your threat?”

“Which one?”

Unconsciously, her hand fisted the blanket. “Chaining me to a desk and forcing me to make maps for you.”

“That’s the one you’re most worried about?” he asked, bewildered.

“Let’s just say it’s something that would have happened to me if Luffy hadn’t intervened.”

Law’s brow furrowed when she didn’t elaborate, and he crossed his arms in irritation. “You’re welcome to your secrets and privacy, Nami-ya, but considering how you very nearly clawed my eyes out over it, you’re going to have to give a better answer than that. I can’t know what will trigger you if you don’t tell me.”

“Maybe I’m not comfortable with someone like you knowing my weaknesses.” She shot him a glare. “You seemed to take a lot of creepy pleasure in threatening to put a collar on me, among other things.”

The brim of his hat cast a shadow across his eyes as he scowled. “I’m a sadistic bastard—I’ve never hidden this. But I was trying to scare you into compliance, not give you a panic attack.”

“Either way, it doesn’t exactly inspire me to trust you.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. In the harsh light of the infirmary, the circles under his eyes seemed even more pronounced. “Nami-ya, I’m sorry I went too far. I was angry and keyed up from dealing with Drake-ya.”

A scoff and a roll of her eyes was Nami’s immediate response. “Yeah, sure, ‘keyed up’. Personally, I would have gone with ‘horny as hell’.” She blushed slightly at the thought. Looking back on it, that moment had felt like something from one of her raunchier novels. And she really needed to not imagine what the two Supernovas would be like together. Who would top? Drake was certainly the larger man, but she had a hard time picturing Law being submissive, control freak that he was….

She shook herself from her musings as Law responded, removing his hat to run a hand through his dark hair, “We have…history. Generally when we meet, we either try to kill each other or fuck. In such close quarters and with you as a liability, I didn’t trust my chances if it came to a fight, so yeah, I fully leaned into the sexual tension.”

After the day she’d had, Nami should have been immune, but she couldn’t help but appreciate how hot he looked when he mussed his hair like that. Her blush deepened as she glanced away. “Well, you should have left me out of it.”

“Drake-ya’s shy with women. I knew he’d turn tail and run if I got you involved.”

Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t quite argue his logic, mostly because it was completely fucked up. “Bullshit; you were totally hoping for a threesome. You are seriously such a freak. Next time, just teleport us out of there.”

“He was talking about kidnapping you,” Law countered, leaning in and resting his hands on either side of her thighs. His breath tickled her face as he continued, “I needed to make sure he knew you were completely off-limits.”

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned back slightly. “I thought we established that I’m not your property?”

“Nami-ya, that’s the way it is—if you’re not strong enough to protect yourself, you’re the property of someone who was strong enough to claim you.” For a brief moment, his eyes softened, getting a faraway look as he lifted his hand to gently brush his knuckles across her jaw. “I know you hate it, but for now, accept that it’s the only way to protect you from the monsters of the world. Because believe me; there are men far worse than me who’d love to get their hands on you. Men who don’t have my limits.”

Her breath caught at his gentle action, and Law seemed to snap out of his reverie, quickly pulling away to grab her chart from the filing cabinet. “Penguin should be back soon to draw some blood and examine you. I need to tell the rest of the crew you’re back, safe and sound. You’re still confined to the ship until dinner tomorrow as punishment for worrying everyone.” Without looking at her, he tossed her chart on the desk and left, all but slamming the door behind him.

Wide, brown eyes stared at the metal barricade in shock. What was that about? Where had that flash of softness come from? Was he seriously running off because of a moment of…what? Kindness? Affection? Concern?

It seemed like every time she thought she had Trafalgar Law figured out, he had to do something to completely throw her.

Her thoughts were disturbed by a brisk knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called hesitantly.

Penguin stuck his head inside, little stuffed bird on his hat bobbing slightly. “You ok?”

Tugging at the black sleeves of Law’s sweatshirt, she sighed. “Fine, I guess. Managed to not get kidnapped by X Drake, thanks to your captain.”

“You ran into Drake? My condolences.”

“He was actually pretty nice up until he decided to take me hostage.”

Penguin chuckled as he tugged on a pair of latex gloves, grabbing her chart and the medical supplies he needed. “No, the condolences are for having to watch him and Law interact. It’s been going on since we were terrorizing the North Blue, back when Drake was tasked with bringing us down. The boss is not subtle when he hits on him, and Drake’s usually a coin flip between trying to kill him and pinning him against a wall. Makes things super uncomfortable for the rest of us.”

His look of exasperation drew an easy laugh from the redhead. “Yeah, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. Law all but proposed a threesome.”

“Unfortunately, I believe it,” he groused as he rolled up the sleeve of the hoodie to expose Nami’s arm. Swabbing a patch of skin with a sterilized cotton ball, he continued, “I’m not sure if Drake brings out his kinky side or if he just did it to mess with you two. Probably both. Boss has a thing for gingers.”

“Then why doesn’t he hit on Shachi?”

“Oh, he did, briefly, when we were teens, but once he realized Shachi wasn’t into dudes, he backed off.”

“Dare I ask how Law found out Drake was interested?”

Penguin threw her a teasing wink. “You’re gonna have to get me seriously drunk to tell that story; I’ve worked damn hard to repress it.”

Nami had to laugh. Though he could be an awkward flirt and sometimes a bit too hard on his crewmates, Penguin was an easy guy to like. He was definitely the big brother of the ship, bullying Shachi and Bepo during downtime but quickly stepping up and making sure they were alright when things got serious.

His mouth turned down in a reluctant frown. “Look, I hate to bring down the mood, but as first mate, I have to know; why’d you run off?”

Averting her eyes, she nervously twisted the blanket in her hands. “What, Shachi didn’t tell you?”

Carefully inserting the syringe into her vein, he began drawing blood. “Figured I’d hear your side of the story before I made my judgement. Law gave me a quick run-down on how the medication gave you a panic attack, but something had to trigger it.”

“You mean besides nearly being cooked to death in that hideous jumpsuit?”

As he removed the needle and taped some gauze to her arm, he gave her a serious, but not unsympathetic, look. “Heat stroke can certainly cause a person to be unreasonable, but Bepo said you were yelling about not being ‘that monster’s property’. I know Law’s not the nicest guy around, especially when compared to Straw Hat, but he hasn’t done anything that would warrant that kind of reaction from you, has he?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing with genuine concern.

Blunt white teeth worried her lower lip. Part of her wanted to say he had—killing Harpin, threatening her, all the things he’d done to earn his reputation—but in reality, she’d seen much worse from other pirates, and he’d done enough halfway decent things—giving money to the jewelry seller, saving her from the Baron, his kindness towards his crew—that she couldn’t even bring herself to lie. “Well, no…”

“You don’t have to spill your life story, Nami; everybody has baggage and things that set them off. Everyone on board cares about you enough that we want you to feel happy and safe, but you need to trust us enough to tell us if we’ve done something to make you uncomfortable.”

She sighed. She may have been able to avoid this talk with Law, but it was clear Penguin wouldn’t be distracted by snarky jabs or petty fights. It was hard to argue with him, too, when it came from a genuine place of concern. And someone should know, right? At least a little bit? Enough to set some boundaries between her and the rest of the Heart Pirates. “Look, I admit, I was being a brat about the uniform, and Law’s stupid medication made things a hundred times worse, but when they started talking about tattooing your Jolly Roger on me…I snapped, ok?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not one of you. You guys aren’t bad—better than most pirates, at least—but you’re not my crew.”

“What’s wrong with getting along with your allies?” he asked as he labeled the vial of blood and jotted a few things onto her chart. Most might think he wasn’t really paying attention to her, but Nami knew by now it was his way of giving her a small bit of space; putting her at ease by not making her feel like she was being scrutinized and judged.

Smoothing the blanket over her legs, she replied, “Nothing. The problem is when they refer to Luffy as my ‘old captain’ and act like I defected from the Straw Hats. I’m here for Luffy’s sake, and in two years, I’m going to be his navigator in the New World. Nothing is going to change that.”

“You’re pretty loyal to him, huh?”

She caught his eye, and with a look that left no room for argument, stated, “If it weren’t for him, my entire village would be dead and I’d still be forced to work for my mother’s murderer. I owe him everything, Penguin. He didn’t recruit me—he freed me.”

The first mate nodded in understanding. “Kind of like how Law freed Jean Bart?”

“You could say that.” She rubbed the spot where Arlong’s mark once lay, fingers absently tracing the scars. “Look, I’m sorry I ran off and worried everyone. I’m really sorry I attacked them. But—I was forced to join a pirate crew when I was ten. They pinned me down and branded me with their Jolly Roger so the whole world would know who I belonged to. I can’t…”

He held up his hand to cut her off. “I get it. Even if it was just a joke, they triggered some bad memories. I’ll tell the crew to ease up on calling you a Heart Pirate, and absolutely no talk of tattooing against your will. But it’s still ok to consider you our shipmate, right? At least for now?”

She gave a watery smile, using Law’s sleeve to wipe moisture from her eyes. Funny, she hadn’t even realized tears had formed. “Yeah. I can live with that.”

Jotting a few more things on her chart, he handed her the fresh set of pajamas and one of the towels. “Good. I’ve gotta go run these tests; go grab a shower in the meantime. I’ll be back in an hour with dinner and to take your vitals, and then you’re going to get a good night’s sleep. Those circles under your eyes don’t make you any less hot, but this ship isn’t big enough for two sleep-deprived, stubborn pirates.”

Despite his light tone, Nami frowned. “You’re going to tell everyone about my past, aren’t you?”

A warm, gentle hand rested on her shoulder, covering up Arlong’s scar. “Not if you don’t want me to; it’s not my place. What you went through…I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t want to murder the bastards who did that to you.” Nami could feel the tension in his fingers and heard his teeth grit in anger. It was clear he’d connected the dots between the scars and her story. “I mean, to brand a fucking child…”

“I’m ok,” she said softly, as much to herself as Penguin. “Luffy freed me. It’ll never happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t.” Taking a deep breath, he pulled away, once more composing himself. “I’ll just tell the crew that you’ve been through some shit in your life, and because of it, you wouldn’t leave Straw Hat any more than we’d leave Law, so we should ease up. They’ll understand.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her hand a quick, comforting squeeze. “You really should tell Law all this, though. You’ve seen how intense he gets, but if he knows he’s opening old wounds, he’ll back off. Guy’s got demons even I’m not privy to, so he’ll respect there are certain lines he shouldn’t cross.”

With a smile, Nami returned the gesture. “You’re probably right. You really are everyone’s big brother around here, huh?”

“I’m the first mate; it’s my job to keep things running smoothly and take care of disputes between shipmates.”

“In that case, could you do me a favor?”

XXX

The next morning Nami was rested, physically feeling better than she had all week, but worried about facing the crew. Despite the affirmations that nobody was upset that she had run off, at least not once they learned it was in response to improperly administered medication, she still felt nervous. Penguin had told them to ease up on treating her like she was part of the crew, but was that a good thing? Would they now treat her like an enemy, or hold her at arm’s length? Was the easy camaraderie she’d started to share with them over, sacrificed for the sake of maintaining her status as a Straw Hat?

However, despite her nerves, she had no reason to skip out on breakfast in the galley. Law had stopped by the infirmary long enough to Scan her and give her a clean bill of health (and also steal back his sweatshirt) while Penguin had come through with her request.

“Think these’ll smooth things over?” she asked the first mate, holding up three wrapped gifts.

Penguin shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t think you even needed to go this far—none of them were really angry, and you didn’t injure anybody. But it can’t hurt…though I can’t promise Ikkaku won’t still make you suffer just a little bit; in a way, it shows she cares. It’s when she goes completely cold with a person that you know you’ve fucked up.”

“You know this from experience?”

“When we went to Amazon Lily and most of us went gaga over the women there. I think the fact that we acted like we’d never even seen a woman before really hurt her pride. She’s a tomboy, but she’s still a girl, you know? Probably sucks when every guy on board forgets that. Flat-out wouldn’t talk to anyone but Bepo for a week—hell, the silent treatment ended only a day before you got here!”

The mention of Amazon Lily piqued her interest. Hadn’t Law mentioned they’d been there once? And apparently, it hadn’t been too long before she’d arrived. “Wait, Bepo was the only one she’d talk to? Did Law act like a lovesick idiot, too?” It was hard to imagine, but if the women of the island were as beautiful as stories said, anything was possible.

“No, but he made a pretty stupid comment that rubbed salt in the wound.”

Though Nami was curious as to what Law could have possibly said to piss off Ikkaku, she was forced to push that mystery aside as they’d arrived at the galley.

“Ready?” Penguin asked, watching for any sign of distress from the navigator out of the corner of his eye. Though he honestly felt she had no reason to worry about his crew’s reaction, he wouldn’t force her to confront them if she wasn’t ready.

Taking a deep breath and adjusting the packages in her arms, she nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

The door opened to reveal the rest of the crew sitting at the various tables, sipping coffee and chatting quietly, a few catching up on what they’d missed over the past few weeks from the pile of newspapers. Several of them looked up and greeted her with sleepy hellos, and Nami nodded in acknowledgement, though her attention was mostly focused on the fact that, though there was bacon and eggs and a few rolls, breakfast seemed to mostly consist of assorted fruits.

From his spot at the table Law glanced over his shoulder at her and chuckled at bemused expression. “Morning, Nami-ya. Care for an apple? Winter melon? Kiwi? Apricot? Pomegranate?”

Her brow furrowed at his casual greeting. After he’d disappeared last night, she’d assumed things would be awkward between them. His brisk visit that morning had only reinforced that belief, but here he was, making cheeky comments with that smug grin of his.

Before she could question him, or the fruit, Penguin lightly nudged her shoulder. “You didn’t hurt anybody, but that gust of yours did upend a few fruit stands, so Ikkaku had to buy it all to keep the vendors from causing a scene. You never know who might be a spy for Jinzo in this town, and from what I heard, you earned yourself a place on his shit list.”

“Which is another reason you’re not to leave the sub until dinner tonight,” Law added as he took a bite of a bright red apple. He met her gaze as he chewed before saying with a smirk, “That’s an order, by the way. One you won’t have a problem following, right?”

Swallowing down her instinct to argue with him, she nodded stiffly. “Right.” Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the table, bowing deeply as she held two of her packages out to Shachi and Bepo. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you yesterday. Please take these as a sign of my sincerity.”

“You didn’t have to, Nami,” the bear said, twiddling his claws. Despite his fur, one could almost see a pink blush on his cheeks. “Penguin explained what we did to set you off, and we weren’t upset at you.”

“Did Law get mad at you for losing me, though?”

His ears drooped. “Well, a little, at least at first—”

“Then I owe you an apology. I promised wouldn’t do anything to get Law mad at you, and I broke that within four hours of making it. You’re getting an apology gift.”

“Well, to be fair, you said you’d never intentionally get me in trouble…”

“Just take it, Bepo,” Law said, taking another bite of his apple. “You managed to get the greediest pirate on the Grand Line to willingly spend money on you; if you keep arguing, she’ll change her mind and charge you double for it.”

Nami glared at him, though it faltered when he threw her a conspiratorial wink.

“Well, ok,” the Mink agreed, taking the parcel at his captain’s encouraging nod. Shachi followed suit, though he appeared more suspicious than apprehensive.

“When exactly did you have time to get these?” he asked, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses, “Because I sure didn’t see you buy anything that could be for us yesterday.”

Nami pointed at the first mate. “I made Penguin do the actual purchasing, but I told him what to get and it was my money he used to buy them. I never left the ship.”

Mollified, Shachi ripped off the wrapping paper, laughing heartily at the orca-shaped hat. “Oh, this is fucking perfect!”

“She asked me to get the ugliest, dumbest hat I could find,” Penguin said with a snort. “The local hat shop practically paid me take it of their hands. It’s like it was made for you.”

“Yup, and now you have to suffer for it!” he crowed, tossing away the green and pink and pink hat and replacing it with the killer whale.

Meanwhile, Bepo happily tucked into the enormous salmon, fresh from the Grimm fish market. He spared a thumbs-up, declaring his approval of the gift, and Nami giggled. He was like Luffy, in a way; buy him lunch, and you were friends for life.

“Take it easy, Bepo; you’ll choke on a bone,” Ikkaku said from behind her. Nami turned to find the older woman shaking her head. “You really don’t have to do this; we’re all just glad that you’re safe. Honestly, I’d settle for an explanation,” she said with a meaningful frown, “but I also get opening up isn’t easy, especially to people who aren’t your crew.”

“Yeah, but given time, I might be willing to open up to a friend.” With a nervous smile, Nami held out a box. “I kind of owe you this anyway, so you’re taking it whether you like it or not.”

Without a word the engineer opened the box, eyes widening at the slinky, silver dress that glimmered back at her.

“Thanks, Nami,” Ikkaku said with a small smile. “This’ll be perfect for when we go out tonight.”

“You still wanna go?” Nami gave Law a sideways glance. “Assuming I’m even allowed.”

Ikkaku scoffed. “You’re my only female friend on this ship; like hell I’m giving that up over a little freak-out. And of course the captain’ll let you join me for Ladies Night,” she said, raising an eyebrow at the Dark Doctor in challenge. “Right, Boss?”

Law held up his hands in surrender. “So long as she stays with you and you’re both on your best behavior, I’ll allow it. After she has dinner with me.”

Beaming in triumph, Ikkaku bumped her hip into Nami’s. “See? We can do each other’s hair, and you can complain about whatever stupid thing Law says or does tonight over drinks.”

A bright grin lit up the redhead’s face. Penguin had been right—they really weren’t mad. “Sounds perfect. And I’ll pay you back for the fruit, too, since that was my fault.” Whatever the cost had been, it was well worth keeping Ikkaku’s friendship.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Just meant we got our produce shopping done a little early. But if you’re that worried,” she said as she strolled over to her table, grabbed a plain white box, and sauntered back, handing it over to Nami with a grin, “here. A peace offering of my own.”

Brow furrowing in confusion, Nami peeked in the box, only to immediately slam the lid back down, face a brilliant scarlet.

“You. Bitch,” she ground out. Ikkaku was so lucky she hadn’t really opened it in front of everyone—what was she thinking? Dear God, what if Law had seen what was inside?!

“Just a little something to help you out when those trashy novels can’t get the job done,” Ikkaku cackled, ducking away as the blushing thief attempted to smack her over the head. “And now we’re even!”

“What’s in it, Nami?” Shachi asked, shit-eating grin telling her he already knew. “What’s in the box?”

“A severed head,” she lied, glaring at him, white-knuckled grip crushing the corners of the package.

“Is it one of mine? I think I misplaced one,” Law chuckled from his seat. He reached for the box, grin stretching his face. “Let me check.”

“Hands off!” she snapped, yanking it away. “It’s none of your damn business!”

“Room.”

“Fuck you, Trafalgar!” she shrieked as the box vanished and reappeared on Law’s lap, replacing the apple he’d been munching on. Her attempt to retrieve the damming parcel was thwarted by Ikkaku grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around, laughing as she shrieked indignantly.

Opening the box, Law pulled out a pair of fuzzy black handcuffs. “Strangest looking head I’ve ever seen,” he said, twirling them around on one long finger. “Though full marks to whoever sculpted the dildo. Even got the veins right.”

The whole galley cackled as the blushing navigator buried her face in her hands, mortified. Part of her wanted to rip their tongues out, but another part accepted that she deserved this. Penguin hadn’t been kidding when he said she’d suffer, but she could also feel the mood lighten significantly.

“So, still up for Ladies Night after your dinner with the captain?” Ikkaku asked as she set her down, grin wide and unrelentingly smug as she threw an arm around her shoulders, playfully mussing her hair. “Or would Miss Straw Hat rather stay in and play with her new toys?”

Despite her humiliation, Nami felt a smile pull at her lips. “You’re an absolute bitch, Miss Heart Pirate, but yeah, I’m in. And for what you just put me through, you’re buying the first round.”

[lawssword]

Five

Here’s the first part of the epilogue (ig thats what we’re calling it) there will be another chapter soon

If you haven’t read Marks Leave Scars you should definitely do that first! Here

and here’s the ao3 link to this. Here

5 Years Later

Law just wanted a monster. He was exhausted. Another stretch of sleepless nights plagued him. Every couple of weeks Law would get caught up in the what-could-have-been. What he could have had if he had done things a little different. If he had listened to Luffy all those years ago.

At this point, it was likely that he’d never get to see Luffy again, at least not in person. Law saw Luffy in social media all the time, he kept tabs on him. How could he not? The Strawhats were doing better than ever. It wasn’t hard to keep an eye on him.

Luffy was happy, at least he seemed happy. And that was enough for Law. Law had been aware for years, that Luffy was the love of his life, but it really hit him last year. Last year, when he got another mark. The entire situation only helped Law realize how much he wanted to be with Luffy.

Law made his way down the sidewalk. The streets were busy with people, which worked out in Law’s favor. He walked to the mini-mart, just a few blocks from his motel room, wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. He had his hood pulled up, of course, sunglasses on. Law found the little corner store and headed inside. Here there weren’t many people. The first thing I did was look around at the people that were none were Tashigi or Smoker, and none of them looked like cops. Still, I kept my head down, got what I needed and got out.

It seemed, in Law’s short time spent in the store, more people were out. Law had learned, over the last five years to walk with his head down, to make himself seem smaller. People saw what they wanted to see, and no one wanted to see a man wanted for murder walking next to them. Law was halfway back when he heard it. A laugh he would never forget.

Luffy.

Law looked up and around, searching for his mark. That was his first mistake. He found Luffy ahead of him. Walking towards him actually. Luffy wasn’t alone either. He was with Robin, Brook, and a child. A little blonde boy that couldn’t have been more than 5 years old. What were the chances? Surely, Law must be seeing things. Seriously. what were the fucking odds that he’s run into Luffy now? Then again, what were the odds that Law would walk into an internet-famous influence like Luffy, to begin with? Memories of their last night together surface in Law’s mind.

The half-drunk, somewhat experimental sex, the next morning that Law hated so much. If the alcohol hadn’t made that night foggy, time sure had. The memories were a different time, almost another life, maybe even from a different person entirely.

Luffy hadn’t seen Law yet, he was too occupied laughing with the boy who could only be Koala and Sabo’s son. Luffy and Robin both held Ace’s hand, swinging him in the air every few steps. Ace definately looked more like his mom than his dad. Sure he had Sabo’s wavy blond hair, but that was Koala’s smile.

Luffy was happy, at least he was right now. Law just hoped he had spent the majority of the last few years just as happy.

Law’s mark pulsed. He had felt almost nothing from it. It’s like it had a mind of its own. It knew Luffy was near and it wouldn’t take no for an answer. Law saw Luffy look down at his wrist and frown. He was only a few paces from Law now. Luffy looked up and looked around. Law looked down at the ground and didn’t dare look up. He watched his feet.

As much as he wanted to see Luffy, to talk to him…to hold him. He knew it was better that he didn’t.

Smoker and Tashigi were watching Luffy. They had been in the same town as Luffy, always. Stussy had tried to get Luffy and Law a place to meet, but every time she got close to Luffy, one of them was there. It wasn’t safe.

At least that’s what she had told him. And Law had learned to trust Stussy. It’s not like he had much of a choice now anyway. His heart pounded in his chest. He could hear Luffy talking to Ace as they got closer.

Law bumped shoulders with someone.

“Sorry,” He muttered, walking faster and trying to get away from Luffy. Away from Robin. If Luffy did notice him, Robin sure would. Law heard their voices behind him.

It hurt to be that close to Luffy and not be allowed to even look at him. He wanted so bad, for Luffy to notice him, for Luffy to follow him so they could be together. Even just for a few minutes. He missed Luffy so damned much. His smile and laugh, his stubbornness and his voice. His lips and his touch. The way he ran his fingers through Law’s hair.

But he heard Luffy’s voice fade into the crowd as more distance was put between them. And he knew it was better this way. Law knew it was better that Luffy stays with his friends. Seeing Luffy meant getting caught. With Tashigi and Smoker being right behind him all the time meant Law needed to be cautious now. If Luffy didn’t notice him, Smoker or Tashigi just might.

Law walked with a purpose now, making his way back to his hotel room. Often, he felt the urge to look behind him, that would make him look suspicious. So Law just walked. His mark throbbed some more. It almost hurt. Like it was lashing out for Law not getting Luffy’s attention. It was unfair, and Law felt childish for thinking that. Law wanted. more than anything to be able to have a life with Luffy.

He made it back to his motel room and dug into his pocket for his room key. When he didn’t find it in that pocket, so he dug into the other one, switching his bag into his other hand too. Then Law patted down his jeans for the key. He found it in his back pocket. What an odd place for it. Law unlocked the door and tried not to think about Luffy. Tried not to think about the life he could have had with him. It’s not like he could do anything to fix the choices he made now. Law really did wish he had listened to Luffy when they argued over Stussy’s offer.

Law got the door open and someone grabbed him. Holy shit, had Smoker found me?

Law swung at whoever touched him. It was instinctual, he hadn’t even looked at who it might be.

Luffy ducked under Law’s swing -wait.

Luffy ducked. Luffy grabbed Law’s arm and pushed him into the wall. Law was too stunned to do anything. Luffy pulled Law’s glasses off.

“I knew it,” He said. Luffy grabbed the edges of Law’s hood and pulled him closer. Luffy’s lips were soft, softer than Law remembered but just as breathtaking. Of course, Law kissed Luffy back, not doing so would go against Law’s very existence. Luffy let go of Law’s hood and wrapped his arms around Law’s neck and bit Law’s lower lip and all of time seemed to be made up in that kiss.

Law was livid for it. The lack of closure made it all that more meaningful. It was like they were back in Flevance all over again. Law wrapped his arms around Luffy and pulled him closer. There was plenty they should talk about, plenty they really should work out, but… It could wait.

The two parted, looking into each other’s eyes with heavy breaths. Both unable to find words to speak. What could they possibly say to each other? Luffy had every right to be angry at Law, every right to yell and scream at him over the way Law left him. And Law had so much to apologize for, so much he wanted to say to Luffy.

So much time had passed, it was almost ridiculous to hang on to such things. The black marks were the only concrete things between them.

Law almost couldn’t bare Luffy’s big brown eyes staring into his very soul. Law leaned in, hesitantly at first, then all at once. He kissed Luffy again, wrapping both arms around him and hugging Luffy close to him.

Law pushed his hotel room door open and pulled Luffy inside. Once they were in Law pushed Luffy against the door, effectively closing it. It had been far too long since they were in each other’s arms. Luffy pulled Law’s hoodie into his fists.

It was several moments before Law finally came to his senses. He pulled away from Luffy and pushed him away.

“You shouldn’t have followed me.” Law couldn’t even look Luffy in the eyes as he spoke.

“That’s what you have to say after five years?” Luffy sounded disappointed and annoyed all at once.

“You could have just put both of us in danger,” Law muttered, still not looking up at Luffy.

“I don’t care,” Luffy decided.

“That’s bullshit,” Law retorted.

“What’s bullshit is you leaving and only leaving me a fucking note, which was also full of bullshit.” Law had nothing to say to that.  

“I’m so mad at you but I miss you so much,” Luffy admitted. He frowned. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“I-I didn’t want to put you in the position of choosing between me and your life,” Law said. “With everything that you had going on, I couldn’t do that to you.”

“So you decided to give me no choice at all?” Luffy asked. “You just made a decision that changed my whole life without even telling me!”

“Luf-”

“No!” Luffy snapped. “It’s no fucking fair!” Luffy stepped back and clenched his fists. “You’re everything to me and you just left. Do you have any idea how I felt when I woke up hungover and you were gone? I didn’t even see you’re damned note until the next day.” Luffy’s eyes teared up.

“And when I showed up in Flevance without you. You should have seen Fai’s face because her first thought was that you were dead.

"And the fucking cops and detectives that wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone. They still come to talk to me every few months.”

“Love, I’m sorry,” Law said. Law stepped closer to Luffy and cupped Luffy’s face in his hands.

“I really am, so sorry for the way I left,” Law said quietly, looking into Luffy’s puffy eyes. “I wish I would have listened to you… I hate that I had to leave at all. But I don’t think there’s any way I would have changed it.”

“Torao-”

“If I told you, you would have come with me, wouldn’t you?”

“…yeah…”

“That’s what I thought.” Law brushed his thumb against Luffy cheek. “I love you, okay? There’s nothing that will change that. I love you so much,  and I can’t let you give up what you have for me, not your friends, not your family, and not your career. If you left with me, you’d have to put your whole life on hold and I’m not okay with that.”

Luffy’s lip trembled.

“I love you too,”  Luffy said. He kissed Law. Luffy pushed Law back, stumbling over his feet as Law fell onto the bed that was behind him.  Law caught himself on the mattress, to keep Luffy from falling on top of him altogether as Luffy plopped down and straddled Law’s lap. Did Luffy intend on sleeping with Law?

Fuck, Luffy didn’t know, but he wouldn’t try and keep it from happening. He wanted Law so bad, he wanted Law to pull on his hair and kiss his neck, to run his fingers through Luffy’s hair and down his spine. Luffy wanted to lay on Law’s chest and follow the lines of Law’s tattoos with his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if Law wanted. He didn’t have the same feel for Law’s boundaries as he used to. Luffy pulled away, playing with the zipper of Law’s hoodie.

“Can I?” Luffy asked, meeting Law’s eyes. Law nodded. Luffy pulled Law’s hood down and gently kissed Law. He unzipped Law’s hoodie and pushed it off Law’s shoulders. The sweater came off and Law wrapped his arms around Luffy and kissed him.

Luffy ran his hands through Law’s hair, he missed how soft it was.

Law slid his hands underneath Luffy’ shirt, Luffy couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted Law. Wanted his touch and his lips all over Luffy’s body. Law’s cool hands on his sides were a tease compared to what Luffy was longing for. Luffy pulled away and Law started to kiss his neck. Luffy couldn’t help the small hum that left him at the feeling of Law’s lips on his skin.

“Torao?” Luffy asked

“Hm?”

“I want you a lot right now.” Law hugged Luffy a little closer, making their bodies completely pressed together. Law kept kissing Luffy’s neck and brought a hand down to Luffy’s thigh.

Law pulled back.

“Glad I’m not the only one,” Law murmured. He kissed Luffy’s neck again and bit his skin. Law’s hands found their way back under Luffy’s shirt, this time pulling it up and over Luffy’s head. Law trailed his fingers down the scar on Luffy’s chest. It had become smaller over the years, not by much, but Law could tell. Luffy closed the gap between them and kissed Law hooking his arms around his neck and rocking his hips against Law’s. Almost instantly, Law became hard for Luffy.

Luffy tugged on Law’s shirt, hating the clothing for keeping them apart. They parted as the shirt came over Laws head for a mere instant before they were kissing again. Their movements became more feverish at every passing second. An awful mixture of wanting to cherish every moment. the two shared and desperately craving the other’s touch.

Law dragged his fingertips down the middle of Luffy’s back and he moaned against Law’s lips. Law’s hands wandered to Luffy’s ass. Luffy gasped when Law squeezed him, and his persistent grinding came to a halt.

Law wrapped an arm around Luffy’s back and laid Luffy onto the bed. He kissed Luffy’s neck down to his collar bone, at the same time, undoing Luffy shorts and pushing them off him.  Luffy kicked his sandals off to help Law out.

Luffy took his sweet ass time freeing Law of his pants. Law pressed his thigh against Luffy’s hard dick and kissed Luffy. Not forgetting how much Luffy liked his hair being pulled. Luffy moaned.

“I don’t have lube,” Law said. Luffy honestly didn’t expect Law to have any anyway.

“I don’t care,” Luffy sighed, Luffy took Law’s hand and brought Law’s finger to his lips and started to suck them. Luffy moaned with Law’s finger in his mouth and moved his body against Law’s.

“Damn, you are so hot right now,” Law said. Luffy hummed and pulled Law’s fingers from his mouth. Law quickly kissed down Luffy’s chest, over the scar, and down his stomach.

“Ahh, Traffy,” Luffy moaned when Law took the length of Luffy’s dick into his mouth. Law spread Luffy’s legs a little further apart and pushed a finger into Luffy’s ass.

Luffy tangled his fingers into Law’s hair.

Law added another finger, then another and stretched Luffy out while bobbing his head. The noises that came from Luffy made the hairs on Law’s arms stand. The only real downside was that Law couldn’t see the expressions Luffy made when he moaned.

Luffy pulled the blanket into his fists, given different circumstances, Luffy would have absolutely loved this. But right now, all Luffy really wanted was Law to be close to him, and this did not feel close enough.

Law pulled his finger out of Luffy and pulled away from Luffy’s dick.

Law pressed his own hard cock into Luffy’s ass. Luffy moaned and dropped his head back onto the mattress and wrapped his legs around Law’s hips.

“You alright, Love?” Law asked leaning over Luffy. Luffy wrapped his arms around Law’s neck and pulled him down to kiss him.

Law complied but pinned Luffy’s hand’s to the mattress and interlocked their fingers. Law started to move, thrusting into Luffy slowly. Luffy moaned into their broken up kisses. His eyes started to water and his breathing got heavier.

“Torao!” Luffy whined, squeezing Law’s hands. Law let go of one hand and dragged his fingers down Luffy’s chest and stomach. Luffy’s nails found their way into the skin of Law’s back. Fuck, he missed that.

“Oh, fuck,” Law moaned between their kissing with the nearly forgot stinging sensation and the tightness of Luffy’s ass.

Law picked up his pace and those waves of pleasure he knew were only from the marks they shared rushed through him. Law hummed and moaned with Luffy. Law squeezed Luffy’s throbbing dick and stroking it, moving his hand over Luffy’s dick to match Law’s thrusting.

“Fuck, Torao!” Luffy moaned and panted. The waves from their marks grew more intense than Law remembered them ever being.

“Torao- ahhh,” Luffy moaned as he orgasmed, the bliss that came from Law’s mark was just enough to push Law into an orgasm too. Almost at the same time as Luffy.

And it really was bliss that came from their marks. Luffy moaned, nearly screaming really. Law pulled away panting just as hard as Luffy was.

He pulled out of Luffy both of them moaning with the movement. They moved to a more cuddle friendly position on the bed.

Luffy pulled the cover from under them and Luffy laid on Law’s chest with Law in his embrace and Law wrapped his arms around Luffy. Neither of them spoke until their breathing had long since evened out.

Luffy played with Law’s hand, drawing nameless shapes into the back of it and occasionally leaving a kiss or two there. The complete comfort with Lw was lulling him to sleep.

“Torao, don’t let me fall asleep, ‘kay?” Luffy mumbled.

“Guess you’d better not let me fall asleep either, huh?” Law said. He had been drawing his own shaped on Luffy’s arms, following Luffy’s toned muscles.

“Deal.” Luffy’s yawned. He turned Law’s hand over and traced the lines in Law’s palm, following one down to Law’s wrist, down to his marks.

Oh, there was a mark next to Luffy’s. A black one.

“When did this happen?” Luffy asked, dragging his finger over the mark.

“Hm?” Law hummed looking down to see what Luffy was talking about.“Oh, last year.” Luffy stared at it for a moment, wanting to ask another question, but not sure he really wanted to know the answer.

“Are you with them?” Luffy asked quietly. It had been five years, it wasn’t absurd to think Law was with someone else. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt…

“Tch, what kind of person do you think I am? I wouldn’t have had sex with you if that were the case,” Law scoffed.

“Good,” Luffy muttered still tracing over the mark. He hated it. This was his Torao and no one else’s. “Who?”

“A waitress from Mock Town,” Law said, pausing as Luffy spread Law’s fingers apart.

“She was pretty and could probably eat just as much as you.”

“Did anything happen with you guys?” Luffy murmured. Law smiled at the thought of Luffy being jealous.

“Aside from some unintentional flirting, no,” Law said. “I don’t think I could be with anyone but you, Love.” Luffy smiled and kissed Law’s hand.

“You say that because I’m the only mark you’ve had a relationship with,” Luffy said, looking up at Law. Law turned his head and kissed Luffy’s forehead.

“I say that because I’m in love with you,” Law corrected and kissed Luffy’s lips. Luffy was quiet for a minute.

“Torao, I don’t want to go back to not seeing you, I don’t like it,” Luffy said, looking back down at Law’s hand.

“Babe, you know it has to be that way, at least until I can figure out a way to get the detectives off my ass.”

“We’re together now without a problem…”

“Love, you’ve been being followed by Smoker or Tashigi constantly, they’ve been keeping an eye on you, and Fai, and my friends. We were lucky he wasn’t watching you when you followed me back here,” Law explained.

“I just want to be with you…” Luffy mumbled.

“I know, Love, I know.” Law tilted Luffy’s chin up and kissed him. “Me too, but we’re together now so let’s just focus on that, okay?” Luffy nodded and kissed Law.

The two laid in silence for another short stretch of time. Leaving kisses on foreheads, hands, and shoulders. Only to be interrupted when Luffy’s phone rang. “Where?” Luffy searched the covers for the phone.

“Probably where our clothes are,” Law said. Luffy crawled to the end of the bed, giving Law a great view of his bare ass. Luffy retrieved his phone and sat back next to Law.

“Hi, Nami,” Luffy said. Law pressed his hand against Luffy’s lower back and rubbed circles into it.

“Where are you?” Nami asked. Luffy glanced at Law.

“Can I tell her?” Luffy whispered with the phone away from his face.

“Better not to, at least not over the phone.”

“Can’t say!”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Nami asked. “Get your ass back here.” Law sat up and wrapped his arms around Luffy and bit his earlobe.

“I can’t,” Luffy said.

“Because you’re mine,” Law whispered into Luffy’s ear.

“I’ll tell you when I get back.” Law pushed his hand up Luffy’s chest.

“I dunno.”

“Luffy!”

“Relax, I’m not getting into trouble,” Luffy promised.

“I don’t know about that,” Law muttered.

“Fine, you better not be,” Nami said.“Will you at least be back by tomorrow?”

“No promises,” Luffy said.

“Luffy…”

“You’ll understand later,” Luffy said. “I’m going now.” Luffy hung up the phone and left it on the bedside table.

“Do you have to go?” Law asked, pressing his forehead to the back of Luffy’s neck.

“Nope, you’re stuck with me a little longer.”

“Good.” Law pressed his lips to Luffy’s skin. “Come lay with me.” Law leaned back into bed and Luffy got comfortable on Law’s chest. Law yawned and wrapped an arm around of Luffy.

“Hey, you’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

“Never,” Law promised. Luffy shifted onto his stomach and looked up at Law.

“Traffy, do you ever think about what could'a happened if you didn’t have to leave?” Luffy asked.

“I know it’s kinda dumb and point-”

“All the time.” Luffy smiled.

“Like what?”

“The places around Flevance I still want to show you,” Law admitted.

“What else?”

“Several anniversary dates we’ve missed.”

“Uhuh.” Luffy smiled.

“Little things like waking up next to you and making you breakfast, kissing you goodbye at the airport.”

“Shishishi.”

“And bigger things like getting married,” Law spoke quietly now. “Maybe even raising a family.” “Like kids?” Luffy tilted his head

“Maybe,” Law said.

Five years ago Luffy would have hated that idea. Kids seemed like a responsibility Luffy didn’t want.

But after spending time with Ace…

After watching Koala and Sabo raise Ace, Luffy didn’t think it was so bad.

“That would be really cool,” Luffy said.

“You think so?”

“Yup!” Luffy kissed Law and moved back onto his side.

“I’m going to figure out a way around this,” Law said. “I don’t know how yet, but I will, I promise. Even if I have to turn myself in.”

“No!” Luffy Looked up at Law. “I don’t care how long it takes, but don’t turn yourself in, I don’t want you anywhere near Impel Down.”

“I’m responsible for Dellinger’s and Doflamingo’s death,” Law said.

“You helped kill Mingo,” Luff spoke slowly. “You did it because he was threatening me and my friends because he was using me to control you because he wanted you to kill Koala.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Sabo told me.” Luffy continued, “You helped Stussy because it was the only way you saw out. With Dellinger, it was worse, what he did to you…” Luffy touched the scars that were still all over Law’s arm. “You did it to protect me and Fai, to protect Zoro and yourself. You don’t deserve to be in Impel Down for that.” Law kissed Luffy’s forehead.

“Thank you, Love,” Law murmured.

Law was so warm with Luffy next to him. It was pulling him into sleep. Luffy wasn’t doing a great job as staying awake either. The couple murmured absolute nonsense to each other. Until they fell asleep. They slept through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.

Law woke to the feeling of Luffy tracing over his tattoos. They moved slowly over Law’s chest in that half heart shape. Law didn’t want to move for fear of this being some vivid dreamscape. Luffy’s hand moved over Law’s shoulder and Luffy pressed his hand over the scar on Law shoulder.  

“Morning, Love.” Law doubted it was morning but that didn’t matter. Time was relative anyway. Luffy looked up at Law.

“Morning,” Luffy said with a smile. He kissed Law.

“So much for keeping each other awake, huh?” Law asked, running his hand down Luffy’s back.

“That’s okay,” Luffy smiled and pressed his forehead to Law’s chest. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah.” Law buried his face into Luffy’s hair. Still, he didn’t feel close enough.  "I always sleep better with you.“

"Good,” Luffy hugged Law. “Neh, Torao, when you figure this all out, let’s get married.” Law was quiet. He stilled moved his fingers up and down Luffy’s back. Again, Luffy didn’t think he would have entertained the idea without seeing Sabo and Koala.

“Okay,” Law agreed. The next afternoon, Luffy went back to his hotel room with the rest of the Strawhats. And Ace. His hair was still damp from the shower he and Torao took. When they got out, Stussy was there. She scolded both of them but it was obvious she wasn’t very upset with them.

“Welcome back, Luffy,” Robin greeted.

“Luffy!” A small voice shouted, running up to Luffy. Luffy scooped up his nephew in his arms and hugged him.

“Hi!” Luffy smiled.

“There you are!” Nami said, coming out of her room. “Where were you?”

“I’m a bit curious too, you did just take off yesterday without saying anything,” Robin said. “I was with Torao,” Luffy said.  There was a moment of silence.

“Oh?”

“What?”

“He passed us while we were walking yesterday, so I followed him.”

“How is he?” Robin asked.

“He’s alright, he’s tired of being on the run and all.”

“He and Stussy haven’t figured anything out yet?” Luffy shook his head.

“Who’s Torao?” Ace asked.

“He’s my mark, see,” Luffy showed Ace his wrist.

“What are those?” Ace pointed to the scars on Luffy’s wrist.

“Those are scars,” Luffy said. Ace ran his thumbs over Luffy’s wrist, holding it close to his face and studying the marks there.

“What time is the flight?” Luffy asked. “That’s today, right?”

“It’s in two hours, you should make sure his stuff is all together,” Nami said.

“Is your suitcase packed?” Luffy asked Ace. Ace shook his head, his blonde hair bouncing as he did.

“Let’s go get it packed, your dad is going to be here soon.”

_

“Stussy-ya,” Law said, watching the door close behind Luffy. “How often does your boss make deals?”

“Usually only when there’s something he really wants from you,” Stussy said. Law nodded. There were a few things he had to offer concerning Flevance and the white lead. There were also a few skills Law was practiced at that could be useful to the government. Sure it had been a while, but Law wasn’t any less sharp in the subject. There was a sickening feeling in his stomach. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted there to be another way but it wasn’t worth it anymore.

“Could you take me to him?”

“A-are you sure?” Stussy asked.

“Yeah.”

“I can get us over there by the end of the week.” Law knew it’d cost him. He knew he’d hate it. But if it meant he could be back in Flevance, with Luffy and Fai, it was worth it. Law didn’t expect to get his entire life back, It had been too long for that.

But to at least have the people back in his life…

[zoeygreensimblr]

I Forgot the you Existed

On Thursday morning we had another appointment with Candice at the medical centre in Brindleton Bay, she did a scan and assured us that everything was looking good.

"Welcome to week 6 of your pregnancy Zoey, you're officially half way through the first trimester, have you noticed any weird cravings or that you've developed a higher sex drive due to those hormones kicking in?" She questioned me and I smiled, looking up at Angus

"Well I do find that I want to be intimate a lot more" I laugh, I had no idea it was due to the hormones

"I'm not complaining Princess" Angus say, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze

"You'll feel a whole range of emotions while pregnant, you will get angry over the smallest things, things that you would normally think were petty but just know that it's your hormones running the show and you remember that too Dad, that when she cries or lashes out that she just needs love and understanding" Candice informs us

"And ice cream" I add on, looking up at Angus and caressing his face, he just smiles brightly at me

"I'll get you some ice cream to go with the love and understanding baby girl" He promises me before turning his attention back to Candice, "Is there anything we should be doing to maintain a safe pregnancy? I know the risks are higher with multiple births". I look up at him scared, he had never spoken to me about his concerns.

"I'll give you a lists of foods to avoid, of course alcohol and smoking are the biggest things you wanna avoid but Zoey already said she's a non smoker, living in a non smoker house and that she's cut out alcohol from the moment she found out she was pregnant. Being pregnant with multiple babies could mean it does put a heavier strain on the body, she will be bigger than a one child pregnancy, she will become more tired and she could go into labour a lot sooner than her due date but we will monitor you Zoey, weekly and right now it looks like you're doing everything right" Candice explains, smiling warmly at us

"What about doing exercise?" I ask her, I know I beginning to become more exhausted more easily, I struggled with our session on Wednesday and it was just spin class

"Don't push yourself, running is alright at a reasonable pace but nothing where you put pressure on your stomach, no heavy lifting" She says, printing out the information about what foods to avoid and what ones to no increase my intake of, I see soft cheese is on the list and feel a little disappointed, I love cheese.

After we finished our appointment I approached the reception desk to enquire if Liam was working that day

"Dr Green is with a patient right now but has lunch after" Eliza informed us

"Can You ask him to meet us at the cafe across the road once he's free?" I asked and she nodded, theres no way after last week that she doesn't know he's my father.

Angus and I wait nervously at the cafe, he orders us food as well as a peppermint tea for me and a coffee for himself. We are not waiting long when we see Liam walk through the door, approaching our table, I can see on his face that he is also nervous

"Eliza gave me a message that you wanted to meet me here Zoey" He says, standing at our table

"I want to talk, I'm willing to hear your side of things but I'm warning you now, I don't want to be fucked around, if you lie to me then I will leave" I warn him. He takes a seat as the waitress delivers our food and drinks and he places an order of his own.

"I have nothing left to lose Zoey so I want to be as honest as I can with you and your boyfriend, I'm assuming" Liam says, holding out his hand to Angus

"Fiancé" Angus corrects him, shaking his hand, "I'm Angus" He introduces himself.

"Oh wow, Zoey, you're engaged?" Liam remarks, looking at the ring on my finger, "And you two are expecting or trying to fall pregnant?"

"We are expecting, twins actually" Angus answers him, "Zoey is 6 weeks along but we we've been engaged since before we found out so I'm not just marrying Zoey because I got her pregnant, I love her, we love each other and I've  wanted to make her my wife since I met her, I knew I had found the woman I wanted to be with" Angus rambles on, nervously trying to prove to Liam that he is good enough for me and I hold his hand to try and ease those nerves. My relationship with Angus has nothing to do with Liam and Angus has nothing to prove to him.

"Why did you cheat on my Mother?" I ask Liam, not wanting to drag this out anymore. He looks at me with shame in his eyes.

"Your Mother, Ruth, was 19 when she discovered she was pregnant, I was 25, we hadn't been together long either, I was in my intern year at the hospital and Ruth was a nursing student who was doing on the job work experience once a day, weekly. She was sweet and shy and we would go on coffee dates and talk about the hospital staff. I'd been dating her 3 months when she told me she was pregnant with you and your sister, Teresa" He explain

"Tess, she likes to be called Tess" I tell him and he nods

"After you were born I devoted my life to you girls, whatever you wanted, you were so cute, I'd read you stories at bedtime, I remember you Zoey loved the stories about ponies the most, you had a massive My Little Pony collection that you displayed in front of your books and Ter-, sorry, Tess, loved to colour in all the time so I would find her these fun colouring in books but being a doctor meant I wasn't around a lot and it caused problems, between Ruth and I, we started to fight a lot and by the time I started working at the clinic Ruth and I were only staying together for you girls, so you could grow up in a two parent home, it's what your mother wanted so badly for you." He says looking down at the coffee that the waitress had not long placed in front of him.

"But even if you and Ruth split up, I still don't understand why she would stop you from seeing your daughters, I know Ruth, pretty well in fact and she doesn't strike me as the type to just cut the father of her children out of their lives for no reason" Angus points out, urging Liam to give us the full story

"She had her reasons and it wasn't because I cheated either, Eliza is my sister-in-law, not my wife, she married my brother Patrick and they had two beautiful daughters together." Liam clears up, "I had an accident one night, coming home from work, you were around 7 or 8 Zoey so you probably don't remember this but I was badly injured, I couldn't walk for a while and I was prescribed heavy pain killers to try and ease the pain"

"What's this got to do with why you left us?" I ask him, confused

"I became dependant on those pain killers, addicted and when the doctor I was seeing stopped prescribing them I started forging my own prescription, I felt I needed them, long after the pain had gone, they made me happy, like I wasn't coming home to a woman who resented me and two children who had no idea who I was because of the long hours I worked. Eventually I hit rock bottom, I was erratic and had major anger issues and would lash out at Ruth, I did abuse her once, only once but  it was the final straw for your mother, she had had enough and she took you and your sister and banned me from seeing you, it was Don who paid for her court cost and he would push for drug testing, which I failed once and never got a second chance. I never wanted to lose my girls, I loved you and Tess so much, please believe me" He breaks down and I can see the honesty on his face, I reach out and take his hand to let him know that I believe him.

"Thank you for being honest, it's a lot to take in" I tell Liam, "I'm glad we were able to talk though"

"I'd like to get to know you Zoey, Tess too, I know I've lost so much time but I thought about you and your sister every day, wondering who you would grow into, you look exactly like your Mother when she was your age, you even have her voice" Liam tells me, sorrow in his eyes, "I've been sober for 7 years now, been to rehab twice and attend weekly meetings for addicts because that's what I am, an addict and I will always be an addict but I've turned my life around and I would love to know my daughters"

"How about we meet here every Thursday, after our appointment and we can just talk?" I offer and he smiles at me like I've just handing him his world back, "I cant make any promises for Tess though and I wont have you speaking poorly of Mum or Don, regardless of what happened" I warn him and he nods.

"I'd also like to get to know you too Gus, if that's ok" Liam says to Angus

"He hates being called Gus" I tell Liam

"Zoey, it's fine" Angus says to me, he doesn't want to cause trouble

"I'm so sorry, I know how that feels too, I hate when people call me William or Bill, being that Liam is Irish for William" Liam apologises to Angus and Angus smiles politely and nods, he gets it.

"Well Zo and I have been together since June last year, she blew me away the first time that I met her, she's funny and intelligent and has a heart of gold and I love her with all of my own" Angus gushes and I blush a little.

"How did you two meet?" Liam asks us, smiling brightly

"I met Angus at the gym that he owns and operates in San Myshuno, he is my personal trainer. We started dating not long after we met" I explain, squeezing Angus' hand 3 times, I love my boy and I proudly talk him up

"And you treat my daughter well I hope?" Liam asks Angus, sternly

"She's my Princess, I'll always put her first, well her and our children. I am sorry that I yelled at you last week but protecting Zoey is my number one priority" Angus replies, looking at me with admiration, "She's my world and I love her"

We end our catch up with Liam, making plans to meet at the same time next Thursday, I even hugged him before we left. We walked back to the parking garage under the clinic, Angus begins driving towards the city and I cant understand why.

"You realise you're going the wrong way right?" I laugh at him

"Am I though? Isn't the city where they keep the best formal dresses?" He asks me, without any further explanation.

"The formal was months ago Angus, remember, you took me and we danced together and had such a grand night?" I question him, he's acting very odd.

"I do remember taking you to the formal but I also remember afterwards at the apartment and how I ruined your perfect night and I just found out this morning that I've been nominated for business person of the year, for last year and that the awards ceremony is this Saturday night and my Princess will need a new formal dress and shoes and will have to make an appointment to get her hair done because baby it's formal and you're going to be my date and this time I'm going to be doing everything right, including ending the night with my girl, kissing her lips and telling her how much I love her" He gushes

"Oh wow, I'm so proud of you baby, my man, business person of the year" I say, getting excited

"It's just a nomination baby, I was up for it last year too but didn't win so I don't have high hopes of winning this year either but I couldn't turn down an opportunity to see you in a a beautiful dress and being able to dance with you, also Tess, Brian, Annabelle and Steph will be there too so it wont be as boring as last years ceremony where I got sat with all these CEO pricks who talked about how great their golf game was and how much money they earn" He explains, taking my hand and kissing it.

We parked in the garage under the apartment complex and walked to CAS formal, I started browsing through the dresses but began to become dishearten when I realised I no longer fit into any dresses, my size had gone up and I felt so frumpy.

"I'm so fat, nothing is going to look good on me" I complained, "Maybe I should just stay home, you don't want your fat fiancé in pictures with you when you win." Angus pulls me back from the dress, leaning down, looking in my eyes with a stern expression.

"You are not fat Zoey and I don't want to hear you  refer to yourself as fat ever again, you're fucking gorgeous and I want you by my side forever" He tells me before kissing my forehead, "I love these changes in your body, the beautiful glow in your skin and the luscious curves." He boosts my confidence.

"You say this now but wait until I'm five times this size and can no longer fit into anything" I point out

"So you're telling me you will be naked?" He jokes, trying to lift my spirits and I cant help but giggle

"Naked and on bed ridden" I add

"Now you're just teasing me Princess, bring it on" He smiles brightly at me, "But for now I want you to pick out a dress that makes you feel sexy, not for me but for you because I want my girl to feel good about herself" He tells me, leading me back over to the racks of dresses, "And Zoey, for once in your life don't give a fuck what anyone else will think, if you feel comfortable then that's all that matters. I'll leave you to it, I'm going to pop into another store down the road, get my Princess a special surprise" He kisses me on the cheek and leaves me to browse, I look through all sort of dresses, some long and elegant, others short, cocktail dresses, strapless, halter neck, off the shoulder sleeves, satin, silky, sheer in an array of colours and then I found an amazing dress, red, long, sexy and fit me like a glove without drawing attention to my ever-growing bump. I paid for my dress just as Angus came back into the store, carrying a black, paper bag.

"What's in the bag?" I ask him, trying to sneak a peek but he hides it from view.

"I got you a few things, one of which you will get tomorrow night and the other you will receive on Saturday, after the ceremony." He tells me, "I also booked us a room at the hotel where the ceremony is taking place, I thought you may enjoy a night away in a fancy hotel instead of coming all the way home to Brindleton Bay "

"You spoil me way too much my gorgeous honey bear" I tell him, kissing him softly

"Well deserved I assure you Princess" He says, taking my hand and walking me back to the car.

****What are your thoughts on Zoey's father?****

****What do you think Angus bought Zoey?*****

[perfectfitmbj]

C3. Raised Different

Ashanti woke up in bed alone. That wasn't surprising given the fact that she was off until the Monday after next due to her long business trip. She had recently been promoted to business operations manager for the fortune 500 company she works for. She had been with this company since she graduated with her Masters in Business Administration from Illinois State University. She liked the company but loved the perks and 100% paid benefits more. Money wasn't an issue for her because Ashanti was born into a family that was very well off. She was the only child of her father and two mothers. Being raised in a polyamorous family wasn't that different from being raised by one mother and one father family. The only difference was by Shan having two mothers, she was able to pick up things from both of them on how to treat a man.

Her birth mother Lynn was the domesticated wife that made sure the house was cleaned from top to bottom. She wasn't a good cook, but she didn't have to be because Jennifer, Shan's second mother, was the wife that was the cook. Her cooking was so good, she could open up her own restaurant, which she eventually did once Ashanti got older.

Ashanti took in everything she could from both of her mothers. She learned the importance of catering to her man and making sure his needs were met.

"Sometimes, a man isn't going to tell you something's missing. He will show you with how he acts. Pay attention."

Her mother Jennifer told her that when she was 11yrs-old. She never forgot that nugget of information ever. Because of that, Ashanti made it a point to watch her husbands. She can be caught just staring at them as they do regular things to watch for subtle changes. She learned her husbands' tells fast and she knows what to look for to make sure they're good.

For example, when Tristan needs some alone time with her, he tends to touch her face, a lot. That's his way of telling her he needs to touch her. Hold her. Mentally connect with her because something happened, be it at work or outside of work, that has him needing to center himself because he's off balance. Tristan being off balance can be bad for the entire house with two Alpha males running around. He tends to challenge Xavier for Shan's attention if he can't get it when he needs it. Xavier on the other hand, when he needs Shan's attention, he tends to rebel from the house rules to get it.

For example, when Xavier wanted attention, he would want to talk a lot. Call and text Shan throughout the day. He would check on her, send her random memes about relationships. On a normal day, Shan may get 2 calls and or text that weren't in response to her calling or texting him. So, his tell was smoking. Shan has really bad asthma and can't be around smoke like any other person with asthma. Xavier and Tristan are heavy weed smokers with Xav being a bit heavier. Knowing Shan doesn't like them smoking in the common areas in the house, they had their own man cave built out of the lower floor, that's where their extracurricular activities went down. When Xav didn't get what he wanted, he would purposely smoke upstairs and wait for Ashanti to get angry and go off on him for doing so.

One way Shan was able to keep both of her men happy and full of attention to make sure whenever they were together, she was touching both of them. If they were on the couch watching something, Shan made sure her legs were in one's lap while her head was in the other and she would switch about an hour later. Some may say that was a bit much, but it wasn't for Shan. It was one of the many ways she showed her men that she cared about them both equally.

"Whatever you do, always let a man feel like a man. It doesn't matter if it's switching out a light bulb to changing the TV from being snowy to the right channel for a picture, let him do it. Our men walk around every day out there in this cruel world being emasculated. He doesn't need it when he comes home where he's the King."

With that nugget, she made sure she called them for everything. The WiFi didn't work. Xavier. She needed something hung on a wall. Tristan. Can't reach something or there's a spider? Either one would do. She made sure to show them both that she needed them just as much as they needed her and so far, that was working for them.

Throughout Ashanti's high school and college years, she was always told she would make the perfect girlfriend and she didn't really understand why until she would hear her friends complaining about their boyfriends. What they didn't like about them and what they wouldn't put up with. The things that they would complain about were crazy and she didn't understand why these things were a problem for women to accept.

"He's always playing his video games and never gives me attention!" One would say.

"Why he always gotta go to the strip club? He tryina fuck! I know he is" another would say.

Shan would just sit there and shake her head. She didn't see a problem with either of these and that's probably why she lucked up and married the two men that she did. While she was dating both Xav and Tris, they both did these things and still do. They had the same issues with their previous relationships as well with the video game play and clubbing were issues, amongst other things, just not with Shan.

She figured her men being home playing video games for hours in their man cave was the best of both worlds. How could it not be? They were home with her, not out in the streets or with someone else. She knew they were playing the game because of how loud they'd get because the play was intense. She wanted to put eyes on them, take them some food and drinks. Wanted them to stop playing and give her attention, strip naked while they're in the middle of a game and walk away. As soon as the match/game was over, they were on their way.

Strip club with the guys? Still not a problem. Shan kept stacks of ones in their safe to give them when they were heading out. She knew they would come home ready and she would be too. Don't want them going out? She had a pole installed in the master sitting area so when they wanted a show, she gave them one. Shan was the perfect fit because she was taught by her mothers how to adapt.

What made her want to be with Tristan and Xavier were two totally different things. They both were special to her in their own ways, but I'll let them tell you their side in their own words. Stay tuned.

[blackwoolncrown]

curious to hear your thoughts bc i think they're sharp, as a person still figuring out fandom. what do you think of the moral okayness of thorki (the ship)? they're brothers, but gods.... godly incest? at what point does "ship what you want" stop applying?

It’s not so much about where it stops applying. Understand that I actually never have said what people should or shouldn’t read- only that what a person chooses to focus on in general (and therefore including what you write, watch, or read) is indicative of something and in many cases of certain taboo* or violent material my heavy suggestion is that that something is ultimately meaningful.

It’s not ‘just’ fiction.

So like, me personally? I often don’t actually care what someone is into (with some logical exceptions), I care whether or not they’re aware of why, because often people would rather not inspect the why so they can keep enjoying problematic media (and also my actual Big Thing is I don’t approve of situations where someone engages in activity they are not fully aware of, because to me if you aren’t aware of the consequences or origins of your actions, you haven’t fully consented to what you’re doing and that makes me sad. Example: Do you smoke cigarettes? Fine! It’s your body; as long as you aren’t exposing non-smokers to second hand smoke, no one should have shit to say. But if you start smoking bc you believe that cigarettes aren’t actually bad for you and there’s no downsides, you haven’t fully consented and now I wish you either a) inspected your motives and actions or b) stopped).

Overall I suspect that many of the most vociferous defenders of ‘fiction is just fiction!’ are people whose interests often veer into what we often call taboo (I think that word is so ineffective) who don’t want to ask themselves why. My other general rule is that people are most doggedly defensive about what they get off to. There’s also the issue of people having already brought to question their fictive interests and instead of wanting to find out the answer, deciding There’s Nothing To See Here, Fiction Is Just Fiction! Or, on the cusp of identifying a maladaptive interest and feeling as if that’s an action of self-judgment, they identify with their fictive interest because to them judging it means judging themselves.

Ideally neither is necessary. You can just understand that you got into something at a previous time but you’ve grown past it, learned from it, and can walk away from it without shame. After all, it’s ideally just your business. All I’m saying is that you know what the fuck your business is, pardon my french, because people who don’t know themselves are….well, it’s an issue.So to answer your question, here’s another question: If Thor and Loki were not brothers, would you care as much? Imagine a situation in which Thor and Loki are not related, but still share a lusty rivalry. Is something missing? What is it? What about them being gods absolves, in your mind, the impact of their siblinghood?Often, something like sibling incest (which to me is, honestly, not my bag but obviously way less awful than parent/child due to a whole slew of issues with imbalance there) is exciting to people simply because either a) the incest is the barrier to love and in general barriers to love make ‘good’ stories because two people overcoming the bounds of a romantic limitation is a more moving story than two people who can love freely (bc we love suffering and strife! it seasons things, I guess lol) and the incest is just an easy yet huge barrier b) because we have a hard time working through something without sexualizing it and who could write or would want to read about two brothers’ having a heartfelt love/hate brotherhood? Very few people, apparently, because that’s not a valued interaction. Thus, add some fucking into the story and Thor and Loki can work out their antagonistic feelings without getting to the bottom of them because we imagine sex is an equalizer and a balm (it’s not, but I understand the idea has a huge place in erotic fiction and absolutely use it myself when I write for fun).That speaks, to me, of an issue (and I’m going to be specific here) with not really having the language or familiarity with the social concept of brotherly love to make a story about it and its struggles interesting. We don’t have the language and thus cannot conceive of brother/brother reconciliation without sex. And this again speaks of a larger issue our society has with sex and the huge void of emotionality between strangers and lovers (friendships, loyalty. non-sexual bonding? What’s that?). We cannot conceive of a way to intensify, for the sake of adult (in age, not nature) entertainment, something like siblinghood without using sex.

It’s just cheap writing.

On the other hand, the very real ramifications of this easy-route conflict writing is that it sexualizes and normalizes sibling incest (or other things in the case of other stories) and I think it’s incredibly callous to want to ignore the voices of SA victims in this regard. People like to retort that ‘well YOU might not be able to tell fiction from reality, but I can’ but here’s the thing: Your subconscious mind can’t. If your brain wholly knew that the fiction you were reading was Not-Reality the information would be irrelevant and would fail to produce an emotional response. The reason we are excited, aroused, sad, scared, angry, tense, etc during movies and books is because while we are focused on them our mind is interpreting the happenings as actual happenings. To the extent (!) that media ‘pulls you in’, your  subconscious believes it, validates it, and signals responses accordingly. That’s why it’s entertaining.

I say this because something many fans of certain content don’t want to face is that the consumption and support of, and proximity to certain types of violent or taboo content starts to lessen your reaction to them. I’m not speaking as an outsider, here, and so I caution you and anyone else to second-guess the awareness of anyone who says ‘there’s no way that’s true!’. What you repeatedly experience becomes normal for you. This doesn’t apply as heavily with Thorki or similar ships bc of the conceptual complexity (it’s pretty far-removed) but there are certainly fetishes/ships  where repeated exposure lessens your reaction to that concept in general. As if that doesn’t seem to be problem enough, since this is an issue of entertainment, this also means that a person seeks more of the content. After all, what fic fan reads just one story about their scandalous OTP? You need more, or more extreme versions. And I’m not talking out of my ass here- people for some reason love incest- it’s one of the top-searched terms on any adult media site for general consumption. On sites that it’s not, that’s only because the term itself is blacklisted and users use some other coded term. In the absence of pearl-clutching, we must recognize that smutty fiction and tube sites’ activities are largely the same. b/b m/s and f/d incest continue to draw attention and I honestly don’t know why. 

And this is why I pay no mind to people who say that fiction has no effect on reality. Even if it didn’t, it arises from our reality. The real minds of real writers in the real world. And I’ve seen the results. I work with sex and fetishes- it’s my job. I know what people as a whole are into and I’m begging y’all: UNPACK THIS BAGGAGE. Soooo many fetishes are just maladaptive coping mechanisms, so talk of ‘fiction being just fiction’ are literally bullshit. Fetish, and the relative psychology of it, is my job, to the point that it’s also what I have to navigate to try and ensure my safety (by avoiding volatile fetishists) and income (my first job, for instance, was a porn artist, and by now I’m an adult content producer and prodomme). And again, many fetishes are the back end of intense or subconsciously formative moments in our lives. The attraction is not ‘the thing’, it is a thread us leading back to that moment, to learn from our experiences, to resolve past issues with the wiser perspective of our older selves.Again, there’s not much going on in terms of Thor/Loki here but on a wider scale there is. Often in fandom, for instance, it’s not really about the ship so much as the fetish. It’s disguised in the language of fandom, but people who have a bunch of incest ships are incest fetishists, full stop. There’s no difference in motive between them and the ~gross pervert guys~ reblogging porn gifs and adding incest prose to them. If geeks could more often find porn gifs that looked like their taboo OTP rest assured they’d do the same damn thing, most of them. Ficlovers like to act like their position is somehow more morally acceptable because there are no ‘real’ people involved like in porn, but whether or not a physical body is used to represent the characters/roles is a pedantic and nebulous distinction at best. Your interest is still your interest. And people are going to hate this, but it sounds so much like pedophiles on 4chan  who say that their ‘fetish’ is okay because the characters aren’t real. Furries into cubs (not the gay dude kind but the baby animal kind) feel justified the same way because the figures are fantasy creatures. But they’re still expressly coded as the infantile versions of adult characters, and again, the motive is the same. I’m not saying ALL of these things are one to one, I’m saying it’s a similar logic: “This is a fantasy and as such it says nothing about me. It would only matter if I physically did it.” Which is dishonest and illogical bc one’s fantasies  and interests arise out of their own minds. Porn consumption is a night map of the human social psyche. It’s not ‘nothing’.

Sure, most of those people would probably never touch a child, but that’s because the real world provides consequences the fantasy world doesn’t- not because they’re not interested. I know bc I’ve seen them say that themselves, many times. I was a 4chan teen. What was normal there would make a well-adjusted person puke. But I was maladaptive, impressionable and young at the time and it became normal for me. So many forms of incest, rape, pedophilia, bestiality etc became normal in the ‘shock makes things acceptable’ speed-posting culture of neverending offensiveness there. And that’s not just a 4chan thing. It’s a group anonymity thing. Any imageboard vet can tell you that. When you’re in the anonymous group, what the group does is what you do, and you go along with it, continuously being desensitized until you suddenly go WTF or…keep going. And having seen these arguments before, I’m wary of those who go to battle on the idea of all erotic fiction being totally beyond judgement, because often what is going on is that people whose interests should be judged, at the very least by themselves, argue against that so that there are other people who feel the same way who don’t realize they’ve been manipulated to cloak the offenders in their community.

But I digress.

Since my feelings on Killmonger fans* started this, I’ll offer an example of my own: I think AoU Ultron is hot. But I don’t actually want to fuck him. I wouldn’t be interested in any ‘reader x Ultron’ narratives. Why? Because despite my love for and identification with  many villains (usually bc of their victim’s rage and queer coding which always leaves them far cooler and better dressed than the hero) and my love for robots, I can’t ignore that Ultron is a heartless, people-hating, death-machine. He has no interest in love, doesn’t care about anyone, and if he bothered to fuck a person (I fucking doubt it) he’d gladly fuck them apart. And since I love myself, I don’t find that appealing. If I found the idea of being fucked to death by a robot arousing, that says something about how I feel about my existence. I know bc I am strangely fascinated by the idea of armageddon (another reason Ultron appealed to me). Spoilers: it’s just easier to feel like you want the whole world to end when you’re so certain there’s no other solution and you yourself are afraid of the emotional responsibility of weathering the world and social interactions. When you love yourself and other people, the idea of seeing the world burn stops being so entrancing. So sure it’s an enthralling literary concept. Is it something I dedicate my blog to or obsess over?

No.

Other things I’ve examined- my love for robots. Do I find myself attracted to robots because they are humanoids you can objectify free of moral conflict? No, and that sucks for me bc that’s why most people like them and that affects the kind of adult media made about them (can you tell im bitter), it’s because I find humanoid robots to be something I can identify with, I see them as symbolically human, and relating to them is, to me, acknowledging that a human is also a construct with both programming and a will of its own it uses to explore and often fight that programming. My attraction to the concept of an automaton stems from my early realization that my own body is but a fantastic collection of parts, electric signals, programmed genetic data, pulleys and fuel. Amazing! Now that I know that, have I stopped consuming robot fetish media? Well yes but only because I can’t find any I like…but in general, no. I’m not ashamed of my attraction, I’ve unpacked it, faced it, and go on about  my life. It actually did lessen the obsession, though.

So, to stay on point, sibling incest as a concept is IMO not ‘wrong’ to write/read about objectively but it is questionable to perpetuate, romanticize, fawn over, collect, celebrate, etc.  Most problematic to me is the issue of how these ships are identified. Generally any time there are 2 handsome brothers in a piece of media, some not-small-enough contingency of the fandom assumes they’re fucking, and sees all forms of affection or antagonism between them as evidence of their lust.

What does this say about your ability to recognize sibling love? What does it say about the social value (or lack thereof) of the same? When ‘all feelings lead to sex’ is the overarching theme of our entire society, I can’t really say I am uncritical of concepts like hatesex and incest being so intensely attractive to people over, say, romantic love between two people who are not related by blood. A bit of a tangent but similarly while I get the chemistry appeal, the fact that ‘hatesex’ as a concept (two people who often express aggression, hatred, intolerance etc of each other being interpreted as actually masking feelings of attraction) is so popular is ripe for questioning. How far removed is it from “He picks on you  because he likes you” and other maladaptive forms of “loving someone means hurting them…a lot” which are real actual problems people suffer for right now?

Plus, it begins to suggest as I said before that all forms of affection/relationship end in sex. Even if sex never happens, sex must logically be the apex of love if two characters who have any kind of affection, even if that affection is also seen in the presence of aggression (!) or a moral barrier (family bond), are easily assumed to be sexually compatible to the extent that fandom perpetuates.

So back to your point, this is again not really an issue (as far as where I’m coming from) with what’s right and wrong. It’s an issue of people needing to take responsibility for themselves and being curious about their own issues and interests. I’m not advocating for censorship- I’m advocating for people to enlighten themselves about themselves in which case a lot of ‘taboo’ media would be produced in a lessened capacity.

I find it interesting that when I ask “Why are you into ____?” people don’t answer that question, or seem unwilling to, since their first reaction is to flip out and cry censorship. No one seems to notice that that’s not what I’m actually saying lol.

I don’t care what people do, if it’s not hurting someone. I care that people know why they do what they do. I am critical of things and of myself. I think people should just dare to be critical. It’s a great tool for self-healing that doesn’t involve perpetuating damage.*I dislike the term taboo because it and the moral judgment it applies is a nebulous term that is used far too broadly. Incestuous pedophiles soften their interest by calling it ‘taboo’, but interracial relationships are also classed as ‘taboo’, thereby suggesting that the term is as loose as ‘whatever many people think is wrong’, which is clearly far too transient and easily-influenced. Often, I find, it’s used as ‘something that is morally objectionable for reasons we’re not going to explore, we’re just going to lump all this shit together indiscriminately as taboo’.

*Again, I don’t care about people who mainly think MBJ is hot as Killmonger, that’s totally logical. I question people whose fantasies specifically extend to Killmonger THE CHARACTER being seen as sexually attractive **because** of/specifically on the grounds of his general character (i.e. radicalized, violent, murderous, apathetic) and what kind of person would fantasize about being subject to a man like that.

[heiligenscheiss]

TRAUMA

Small introduction to a family tragedy

I was born as the eldest daughter of a total of 6 children and grew up without a father. My mother was an unbalanced person, a choleric, heavy smoker, and very often blind with anger. When I was around 3-4 years old, she had a second child and then five more children from five different men.

I lived in constant fear of their attacks and outbursts. She also beat her men when they didn't do what she wanted. She turned the tables once when the man struggled. She wanted to jump from the balcony on the 14th floor because the argument turned into a brawl.

Right from the start, I had to help out with the household and look after my younger siblings. I had to pick her up from kindergarten and take care of her. I grew up on the 14th floor in Neuperlach. I can hardly remember the things that happened to me before I was about 5 years old. I started school when I was 7 years old, I was very restless and did not perform well. I experienced sexual abuse when I was very young (around 5 years old) by the children of the neighborhood and within the family by my cousins. My privacy and the development of my sexuality were not respected. I had to bathe with my brothers even though I already felt shame and didn't want to. Our mother didn't care for us. When we were hungry or thirsty, we didn't dare ask because that would make her angry. So we secretly fed on sweets and snacks and got fat from them; especially me. Then she called me a "fat freak, jellyfish, buffing monster or elephant".

My entire everyday life was always characterized by fear, I was constantly mistreated, beaten and humiliated by my mother and violently insulted with expressions like hooker, slut, fat child. When I was 9 years old, I came to the Logos curative education center. The youth welfare office was made aware of the school, which had seen bruises on me. I never talked about it myself, I didn't know that what happened to me was important. When visiting once a month on the weekend, there were further negative experiences.

I had to take responsibility for my siblings and for everything that happened to them and face their punishments, which mostly consisted of insults. She hissed at me and beat me around the apartment. Christmas and birthdays were terrible experiences.

I couldn't get along at school, got bullied and couldn't concentrate, and got worse and worse. The way in which the children in the home dealt with sexuality disturbed me because of my traumatization and I fled to my mother's home. When I was 12 I asked if I could change homes and came to Augsburg in a girls' dormitory. There I was always an outsider and the youngest.

I didn't find a connection at secondary school either. I couldn't take it anymore and switched back to secondary school. In the home, I clashed with the educators and was sometimes locked in the cellar during the day as a punishment.

I was sent on cure and lost 50 pounds in six weeks. Then I had to find my way around my gender identity. I took drugs (THC and ecstasy) for the first time when I was about 14 years old. During this time I had to think a lot about my childhood. The first memories broke out, before I had successfully suppressed them. I suddenly realized that I had had a terrible childhood. The drugs numbed me a little. Because I couldn't buy anything anymore, I stole a VCR in the home. I was thrown out of the home and had to move back to my mother in Munich. I couldn't have made a better suggestion, nor was I made a better one. I started a qualification course at the employment office. I could only stay with my mother for 2 months because she beat me again for no reason. I found refuge in a youth hostel, where I stolen again and was thrown out again.

I was able to move into a shared apartment in the orphanage, where I could stay for a year. But I couldn't get into the group and at the age of 18 I was looking for a place in a shared flat for girls. I was never able to come to terms with my many traumas because I was constantly in need of existence.

Since I did not provide any services, the youth welfare office withdrew its support and I ended up in the women's shelter. I started a school education, which I couldn't finish for mental reasons. I received an application for housing with urgency level 9, and so I got out of the women's shelter. After the qualification I started four training courses and dropped out because of my mental problems, instability and threat to my existence.

I broke off contact with my family because I could no longer cope with the anti-social tone and behavior of my mother in general. I felt better for a while, but then I got depression again. I managed to start training as a social worker after being flown out of the group home for illegal pets.

After that I was in the women's shelter for 1 year. I moved from the women's shelter to an “intermediate flat share” when I received an apartment proposal. In this apartment I was left unsupervised. During this time I got livelihood problems and rent debts. I didn't know my way around, had too much to do with my education, and didn't want to ask for help anymore because I thought the socio-educational non-profit aid organizations such as B. the counseling service for women, would have a bad opinion of me.

I then moved into an apartment with my ex-boyfriend (V). When he was no longer dependent on me, he started beating me up. I had to look for a new apartment and move from there to another. I had to throw myself into high expenses because of that, so I had to steal again. Now 4 years after the relationship, I still bear the joint liabilities from the rental agreement.

Before the birth of my son, I was declared unfit to rent because the apartment that my ex-boyfriend last lived in alone was left in a terrible, dirty and unrenovated condition.

I found out about the pregnancy on July 12, 2011; that was shocking news for me as I was using contraception. My son must have been born in December and was born a little early and healthy on July 21st. I've been happy about that since that day. I have been homeless since July 1st and have been living in the women's shelter since July 27th. Since October 21 am I in hair to stabilize myself The situation is difficult for me; however, it helps my psyche a lot and I have a fixed daily structure again. I feel alone without the father of my child (S), with whom I have been friends for 2 years. But I can take it because it is important to me that I can live with my son in the near future.

I am urgently looking for accommodation for myself and my child in order to be able to meet the obligations of motherhood. The well-being of my child is my top priority, has top priority and I would do anything to be able to live with my child.

Abuses my mother committed to me:

Until I was just 9 years old, I was mistreated in the worst possible way. I've spent the days in constant fear. My mother dragged me around the apartment by my hair, threw me against cupboards, my toys and those of my siblings in garbage bags that I had to dispose of myself.

I will now briefly write down the worst abuse here:

Once my mother immersed me in a full bathtub until I passed out, I passed out for a long time and spent a day or two in severe shock. Another time she poured urine down my throat and spat in my face. Another time she choked me sitting on top of me to the point of unconsciousness, that was a kind of near-death experience for me. One more time she pushed my breath away until I passed out. She ran through the apartment with a hammer and smashed the furniture.

I took drugs:

THC aged 13-14

Alcohol and 15 yrs. THC

Ecstasy, alcohol, mushrooms, THC at 18 years

Since the people from the scene were criminals and I had no money to use drugs, I turned away from it and have not been using drugs or alcohol since I was 22 years old.

[geeisafleabag]

Vargulf Bitten - A Hemlock Grove Fanfiction

Chapter Three

(You Can find Chapter One Here and Chapter Two Here)

Everything felt different, like waking up with new eyes and ears. The world was so much brighter somehow and louder. I tried my best to ignore it as I walked into Hemlock Grove High School for the first time since Lisa’s death. All eyes were on me and I could almost taste the different feelings that hung in the air. Some eyes were accusing and angry. Some eyes were full of pity. All of them judging me regardless. I could even hear the whispers exchanged between everyone. The surprised hushed tones and the cruel words. My wounds were proof enough that I was merely a victim, but no one wanted to believe that anymore. Not when I had gotten out alive and Lisa hadn’t.

“Hey.” A rough hand landed on my lower back and I looked up and behind me slightly. It was Peter and his appearance had only made things worse as the hushed whispers buzzed in my ears like an angry bee. The look on his face told me that he understood what I was going through, probably could hear just as well as I could in the moment. We hadn’t talked since the morning after Lisa died. Part of me hadn’t wanted to talk to him. I wanted to trust him because I knew now that he was pretty much my only hope if I was going to survive this change, but I didn’t. I didn’t trust him for a single second. His close proximity made his scent overwhelm me. What once would probably have smelt like leather and weed was now a whole forest. He smelt musky...earthy, but in a way that felt so familiar to me somehow.

“Hi.” My voice was low as I ducked my head away. I realized he was directing me away from all of the people gossiping. He pushed open one of the doors, leading to an empty stair case. He moved to sit down a few stairs down and I just stood at the top of them, staring at him. My bag hung off my good shoulder, but the weight of it suddenly felt like a dead body. Peter pulled out what looked like was a joint and a lighter, putting it between his mouth before he lit it, smoke rising as he did so. He looked up at me then, brows furrowed in question before holding out the joint to me. I wasn’t a smoker though.

“Don’t just stand there. This will take the edge off, I promise. No vomiting this time.” He blew the smoke from his mouth, hand still out for me to take the joint. I dropped my bag on the stairs and walked down to him, taking the joint and putting it between my lips. I could taste remains of his toothpaste on it before I inhaled. I passed it back to him and buried my face in my hands. Of course, a bit of a coughing fit started up after a moment, the smoke surrounding us both. The space between us wasn’t that large and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Why are you being nice to me? Before all this bull shit, you didn’t even acknowledge me.” I questioned him then after a long silence. He took a thoughtful drag and nodded, agreeing with my statement seemingly. He offered me the joint again, but I refused it this time. He gave a shrug as if to say ‘Oh well! More for me!” before taking another drag. I knew he was trying to think of a good answer. It was like I could hear the gears turning in his head -- even behind all that hair that was on it. He snuffed out the joint on the wall and put it back in his bag before fully turning his body to me. His deep blue eyes locked onto my brown ones.

“Because in some...ridiculously fucked up turn of events, we’re like...family.” Peter said, making a face as if regretting the words almost immediately, “Pack mates.” I pressed my back against the wall as he said the word. I couldn’t help but cast my gaze away from him. I hadn’t asked for this and even though I had thrown up the wolfsbane, there was no guarantee that I was going to make it out of this alive. It seemed he could read my thoughts, or at least my expression as he put a hand on my shoulder as if to comfort. The sound of the bell ringing behind the door and throughout the school made us both jump. A few curses in a foreign language leaving Peter’s mouth then. I got up and grabbed my bag, pushing the door open. He was still sitting, perhaps a bit surprised at how fast I had moved suddenly.

“Bye, Peter.” I mumbled before turning away, heading off to class, even if the dread I felt about it was following me around like a rain cloud. My first class of the day was Chemistry. Ironically, it was also my absolute worst subject. On top of that, there was no Lisa to be my lab partner, so I had no idea how today was going to turn. I took a seat at my usual spot and seemingly so did everybody else. I threw my bag on top of the lab table, sighing a bit to myself. The teacher glanced over at me for a second before quickly looking away. Great.

“Is this seat taken?” I glanced up at the tall figure beside me, blinking in surprise when I saw who it was. Roman. He didn’t give me time to answer. Instead, he sat down on the stool beside me. He seemed awkward and out of place, long legs hanging out to the other side of the table practically. He seemed too big for his environment, while I felt too small. My legs dangled from the stool like a child in a “big kid” seat or something of the sort.

“Guess it is now.” I mumbled and I hoped that he wouldn’t say anything further to me, but of course we didn’t always get what we wanted. He leaned closer to me, as if he was about to say something very secretive. I could hear everyone else in class mumbling about it -- about us. Everything connected back to Peter though. How that dumb freshman girl was telling everyone that he was a werewolf and telling everyone that he was the one killing the girls. Now I knew that at least the first half was true, but I wanted to believe the second wasn’t, but if it wasn’t him then who was it? Who was the vargulf, the sick wolf who had bitten me?

“Is it true?” Roman asked, a dumbfounded look was plastered on his face, eyebrows raised and full pink lips parted in absolute wonder, “Is the bite really making you...turn?” I found myself shifting closer to the wall, my good shoulder pressing against the brick. He’d been too close for comfort and I knew he was just trying to ask the question without any onlookers hearing, but I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. It was a feeling that was unfamiliar to me. It was like, I could just claw into my skin, rip off my skin like shreds of a dress and become...and become what?

“Dunno.” I shrugged then, glancing up as the teacher opened up a powerpoint. I focused on the lines of the paper on my notebook that I had pulled out whilst he talked, but I could feel Roman’s gaze heavy on me. I guessed he wasn’t satisfied by the answer, but I didn’t know what else to tell him. He must have talked to Peter about it within the last few days considering he’d been practically kicked out before they even had told me what was going on. I wasn’t even sure why he even cared or why he was deciding to go out of his way to talk to me. Roman didn’t even have the pathetic excuse that Peter had given me. Family. Pack mates.

“I’m sorry.” Roman swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so, “About your friend. About what you’re going through. It’s just I-”

“Roman Godfrey, is there a reason you’re talking during my lesson?” The teacher cut him off, his Godfrey green hues casting up at her like a sad puppy. I even watched as he lower lip jutted out ever so slightly -- not enough to be noticeable to anyone who wasn’t staring.

“Sorry, Ma’am. Won’t happen again.” Roman replied, staring her down for a moment before she finally just gave up and went back to her presentation. One of his large hands moved to my notebook though he didn’t look at me as he did it. He pulled it into the space between our elbows before scribbling something on the corner of my notes.

Meet me at my car during lunch.

He didn’t say anything to me the rest of the class.

[angelic-writer]

Original story!

There are many choices in life.

Many of these choices are simple, like trying to choose what you're going to wear, what you want to eat, and what career you're gonna choose. Some of these choices are both good and bad. Many choices have different outcomes. For example, when you start talking to guys, there is a chance that you will end up with a guy that either treats you well or treats you horribly. You will make choices that will either lead you to have a healthy life or lead you to a life of drugs, sex and illness. You will make choices that will lead to you having a well-paid job or a low income job. These are the choices we make in our everyday lives. But some of these choices could lead to life or death and you don't even know until it's too late.

Let's say for example you're driving to work when your phone rings. You've been waiting for that phone call for days and you finally got it. The only problem is that you're trying to focus on the road and you have seen a lot of PSAs about distracted driving.

So, you're hit with a choice. Should you answer your phone or not?

You start thinking about the choice and what the consequences would be. If you answer the phone call, you could be distracted and you could get into a car accident, severely injuring you and possibly dying. Your family, friends and coworkers will miss you and they will spend every waking moment, wishing they could have been there to help you. Your mom and dad will carry the guilt of not protecting their precious child and spend the rest of their lives in mourning. When you were alive, your father was a heavy drinker and your mother, a heavy smoker. After you died, your father quit drinking and goes to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings every Friday. Your mother will follow suit. She used to smoke three packs a day, but she cuts down to two, then one, and then she stops smoking altogether. You were always concerned about their health, knowing the health risks and that they're ruining their bodies. Your parents always brush it off, saying that they're not gonna leave you. After you're gone though, your parents take your advice to heart and improve their health.

Your friends will lock themselves in their rooms and stare out their windows. Their favorite songs only remind them of you and they cry every time they listen. When they go out to eat, they will see your favorite dish and be reminded of you. Everything that they see reminds them of you. When you were alive, your friends are nice to you, but they are mean to everyone else. You were pulled into their clique in high school and they bully everyone that they consider not as good as them. Their actions are horrible and they caused a good chuck of people to become depressed. Some of them even killed themselves when the bullying went too far. They didn't fare better in adulthood. They were horrible to their coworkers and they were really bossy. Sometimes, you wondered why they weren't fired from their jobs. After your death, they start to be nice and apologize for their actions. Even though their actions are irreversible, they still work hard to be better people. They will never forget you and they will keep your memory strong.

Your coworkers, especially your boss will mourn about the fact that they lost their favorite employee. When you were alive, your boss enforced a lot of strict rules and if you broke one of them, you're fired without hesitation. You are buried by the amount of paperwork and contracts. Your coworkers complained about the long work hours and the unfair rules. You would complain too, but, hey, at least it pays well. After your death, your boss, who is strict about the rules, mellows out and changes the rules in memory of you. The work hours are shortened and they are allowed to take breaks. The company fares better and eventually, they are able to make more than what they earned before. Your death has made an impact on everyone, changing who they are and making choices to improve.

If you didn't answer the phone call, you will make it to work, but your boss will be mad that you ignored the phone call and he will fire you, stripping you of your hard earned money, leaving you with no job and possibly being kicked out. You thought about it long and hard and what did you choose?

You chose not to take the phone call. You continue driving and eventually make it to work. Your boss is very angry at you as you expected. You try to explain why you didn't take the phone call, but he doesn't want to hear it. Before you know it, you were thrown out. You come home and explain to your parents what happened. Your parents were mad, but they were glad that you listened to their advice and they promise that they will work to pay for you. They still smoked and drank alcohol, but they did well and they earned a decent amount of money. You feel bad about your parents doing all the work and decide to help too. You helped with the chores and cleaned the house which they were very proud of. Your dad rants to his friends about your boss and they agree to sue the company. The lawsuit doesn't go well and it causes your boss to snap. He only cared about the company's reputation and he wouldn't let anyone tarnish it.

In the middle of the night, your boss sneaks into your house with malicious intent in his eyes. He was going to make your family pay for ruining his company's image. Fortunately, he bumped into the table, alerting your dad of the intruder. He walks into the kitchen, his weapon in hand and he stops when he sees your boss, shaking and angry. He looks down and sees, gripped tightly in his hands, a kitchen knife. He points his gun at him as he slowly walks towards him.

"Don't move! One step closer and I'll shoot!" He barks.

You and your mother are wide awake and listening to what's going on, praying that your father will get your boss out of the house. You were already on the phone with the police, describing the situation to them in a calm voice. Although, deep down, you were scared out of your mind. You were a little kid again, scared about the monsters under your bed and in the closet. Only this time, the monster could possibly hurt your family.

The two men stay silent, unmoving, for a long moment before your boss lunges at you. Before your father could fire the gun, he smacks it out of his hands, causing the gun to slide across the floor into the darkness. Your boss and your father start to fight. He tries to stab your father, but he scratches his eyes, making him howl in pain. He stabs him, but it was in the arm. Your father screams in pain and your mother runs to his aid. She grabs an empty beer bottle and she smashes it over your bosses' head.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Are you insane?!" She screams.

Your boss grunts and gets up. "You ruined me. Your stupid daughter told you and your husband and he sued me. I will NOT let you ruin my company!!" He grabs another empty beer bottle and smashes it over your mother's head, knocking her out.

"Clarissa!!" Your father shouts as he sees his wife fall to the floor. He lunges at your boss and tries to pin him down, but he is stronger and he pins him to the ground. His hands wrap around your father's throat and squeeze. Your father starts to struggle, trying to gasp for air. Drool runs from the corner of his mouth and the blood vessels in his eyes begin to burst as he stares into your bosses' eyes. His eyes were that of a madman. His pupils constricted and his mouth curled into a maddening smile. Your father saw who he truly was as his vision fades to black.

You stand in the doorway to the living room, horrified by what you were seeing. Your boss was strangling your own father. The person who helped you through life and guided you through the confusing and cruel world. You feel anger boil up in you and you grab the angel statue and run towards the man.

"GET AWAY FROM MY DAD, YOU BASTARD!!" You scream and you hit your boss in the head with the statue.

With a sickening crunch, your boss falls to the floor. Blood pools onto the carpet and your bosses' body twitches a bit before he stops. You drop the angel statue and rush over to your dad. Luckily, you remember your first aid class in high school so you check his pulse and breathing.

Pulse: Nothing.

Breathing: Nothing.

You knew what you had to do. You start pressing on your dad's chest in a rhythmic fashion, stopping to blow air into his mouth. Within seconds, you were able to revive your dad. You check your mom. Thankfully, she had a pulse. You breath a sigh of relief. Your parents are alive, but they still need medical help. You hear police sirens in the distance and you smile, knowing that your parents will be okay.

Your mother and father are taken to the hospital and they are treated for their wounds. You were taken to the police station, being charged with murder. You didn't care. You were glad that your parents were safe and the boss who tried to kill them is dead. You explain to them that you killed your boss because he tried to kill your father. They understood and let you go. You visit your parents in the hospital every day with wishes that they will get better.

Once your friends heard about what happened on the news, they visited too. They commended your act of courage and they called you a hero. You couldn't have been more happy than ever before. Your friends and your coworkers donated money to you and your family to pay for the medical bills. Eventually, you got a job at the coffee shop your friend works at and you were happy. The company got a new boss that was less strict and he changed the rules for the health and safety of his coworkers. Your parents eventually quit smoking and drinking and they helped with your life.

You were happy with the choice you made.

[djsamaha-blog]

Why I Keep My Heart Open Even Though I’ve Been Deceived

“You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you’ll live in torment if you don’t trust enough.” ~Frank Crane I’m heading home with a latte in hand, listening to This American Life through my headphones when a woman sitting on a bench outside the café waves me down. She looks like she’s in her sixties with grayish brown bangs and a worn pink winter jacket. I pull my headphones out of my ears. “Excuse me, can you tell me how far it is from here to 77 Westwood?” she asks. I take my phone out, Google map the address, and see that it’s thirty-seven minutes away in the suburbs. “Aw, shit,” she mumbles. Spit collects at the corner of her mouth. Her teeth are yellowed and I wonder if she’s a smoker. “What’s wrong? Where do you have to be?” My eyes rest on two leg braces leaning on the bench beside her that I hadn’t noticed before. “My handicap transport cancelled on me at the last minute and you have to book those things like three or four days in advance, so now I’m stuck here and I need to get home.” I ask if there is anyone that can pick her up. She shakes her head and proceeds to ask me, “How come people can be so mean?” Apparently the person she asked for help right before me had sworn at her and told her to leave him alone, which shook up whatever faith she had in humanity. With a heavy heart, she asks me questions I am not sure I have answers to like, why don’t people have more compassion? I can feel my heart inching out toward her. She has spoken to something in me that feels compelled to reassure her that not everyone is cold and heartless. There are good people in this world and it is important that she knows that. Pointing to her legs she says, “This could happen to anyone.” She recounts how she had an accident but would do anything if she could just walk again to get from the bench where we were to the home where she longed to get back to. In the five minutes I stand beside her this is what I learn: She’s getting her PhD in Child Psychology at McGill. She once had a diplomatic passport because her father used to work for the Prime Minister. She traveled all around the world with her parents and lived in Japan for many years. She is half Greek and half eastern European. “My grandmother used to make the best gefilte fish.” Because it turns out her grandmother used to cook for the Steinbergs­, a prominent Jewish family that founded grocery store chains in Quebec in the early 1900’s. At this point I take out my wallet and look at the two $20 bills lying in there side by side. — I start my day with a simple prayer that Marianne Williamson taught me from the book A Course in Miracles. I ask the universe, “Where would you have me go? What would you have me do? What would you have me say, and to whom?” Whoever I encounter that day or whatever happens, I believe in some way I am led to them. So for whatever reason, this woman sitting outside the café was put in my path. When I hand her the bills she takes my hands in hers, and they are warm and soft. “God bless you,” She says. I look into her pale blue, kind eyes and am reminded of my grandfather’s eyes. A survivor of the holocaust, he had eyes that were deep wells of untold pain and stories and kindness. I’m happy to prove that there are good people out there, that the universe is a kind place. She tells me I did a “mitzvah,” clearly familiar with Jewish vernacular. I ask her how to say thank you in Japanese and she proceeds to delight me with a few sentences. I say goodbye and head home to tell my husband Dan about the woman on the bench I just met. — The story could have ended there, but it’s what happened the following day that threw me off balance. I was walking back from doing some errands when a woman caught my eye. She was sitting on a ledge outside the YMCA talking to another woman standing beside her. I positioned myself so that the sitting woman couldn’t see me, but I could still overhear their conversation. It went something like this. “I’m sorry but my transport cancelled and I need to get home. Can you check on your phone how far it is?” My heart dropped and I could feel my face getting hot. I stood there for a moment in shock watching as stranger after stranger continued to stop for her, wanting to help. I went home and recounted the story to Dan. As I spoke, I felt my emotions transform from anger to utter confusion. I asked myself, was she really disabled? Was she really a student? What was true and what was just a story to pull at the hearts of strangers passing by? Did it even matter? I wasn’t sure. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I spoke. I suddenly felt naïve and foolish. “How do I respond to those in need from now on?” I asked him. “How do I know who really needs my help? Do I close my heart in protection? Do I stop giving because maybe I’ll be fooled again? Do I confront her?” Dan held me and assured me I didn’t have to close up. He told me that there was no harm in giving to her. I didn’t put myself in danger. I didn’t get pulled into a thousand dollar scam. I lost forty dollars to someone who probably needed it a lot more than I did, and maybe next time I wouldn’t be fooled again. After sleeping on it, I realized that what angered me most was the feeling of being deceived. I hated feeling so vulnerable and pulled into someone’s story that I couldn’t distinguish truth from scam. Every day in my work I hear my client’s stories of pain and struggle, and in order to empathize with them, a part of me needs to feel into that part of myself that they are struggling with. And what I realized was that, while I have a gift for empathy and a soft spot for people’s vulnerability, it can also be my kryptonite. If I’m not aware of the shadow side of the innocent part of me that wants to be helpful, I can easily be taken advantage of. The innocent is an archetype that we all have as children. We see it in every Disney movie when the film begins with a child, an orphan– someone who naively steps out alone into the forest to greet the animals without knowing who is a threat and who they can trust, which might lead them to befriend a wolf who lures them into the dark forest by pretending to be a grandmother who looks shockingly like a wolf. The innocent is the part of us who is naturally open and trusts that people are who they say they are. It is the part of us that might give another chance to a date whose been treating the waitress poorly, or excuse the behavior of someone who serves our own interests. But maybe we should take Maya Angelou’s words to heart, “When people show you who they are, believe them.” Once you know that you’ve been tricked, it’s natural to feel angry, and there is always the possibility of becoming cynical. I could have gotten mad and, in the extreme case, called the cops on her, or I could have warned all the other strangers not to approach her because she was a liar and a swindler. It is far easier to react out of fear or injured pride and exact our revenge. We promise ourselves we will never be swindled again—“Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” If we start to believe that everyone is motivated by self-interest or that everyone is out to get us, we risk closing our hearts instead of opening up to compassion. What I learned was even after all that, the woman on the bench still deserved my compassion. I still had the privileged position of being able to walk away, come back home, and have dinner with my loving husband. I had a choice whether to give to her at all. No one would be the wiser if I chose to walk away. But in practicing being a loving and compassionate person, I learned that I want to give without attachment to how it will be received and without expectation that I am owed something in return. I can’t control how the money is spent once I choose to give it, and if I wanted to do that, I could have bought her a meal instead. I don’t think it is my business to judge anyone else’s life and circumstances. Instead, I want to be able to give and let go, and walk away with my heart a little lighter. Let go of needing to hear a thank you. Let go of the gesture being appreciated. Let go of the attachment to a particular outcome. Let go of judgment. Let go of control. I know that the only thing I can ever be in charge of is myself and my own response—my thoughts, my words, my actions, and the decision to show up every day and try and keep this heart of mine open when it is so much easier, and more tempting, to keep it closed. Have you ever been deceived? Have you been more discerning since then? What’s helped you hold on to your compassion?

About Myrite Rotstein

Fullness Coach and Pattern Disruptor Myrite Rotstein helps women stop filling up with food, people pleasing, and self-doubt and learn to fill themselves up from the inside out, so they can stop dimming their light and remember their ‘nuf'ness.’ She leads monthly Fullness Circles to help women elevate one another, speak their truth, and spark connection. Visit her at myriterotstein.com.

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Get in the conversation! Click here to leave a comment on the site. The post Why I Keep My Heart Open Even Though I’ve Been Deceived appeared first on Tiny Buddha.

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[sarahburness]

How I Keep My Heart Open After Being Deceived

“You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you’ll live in torment if you don’t trust enough.” ~Frank Crane

I’m heading home with a latte in hand, listening to This American Life through my headphones when a woman sitting on a bench outside the café waves me down. She looks like she’s in her sixties with grayish brown bangs and a worn pink winter jacket. I pull my headphones out of my ears.

“Excuse me, can you tell me how far it is from here to 77 Westwood?” she asks. I take my phone out, Google map the address, and see that it’s thirty-seven minutes away in the suburbs.

“Aw, shit,” she mumbles. Spit collects at the corner of her mouth. Her teeth are yellowed and I wonder if she’s a smoker.

“What’s wrong? Where do you have to be?” My eyes rest on two leg braces leaning on the bench beside her that I hadn’t noticed before.

“My handicap transport cancelled on me at the last minute and you have to book those things like three or four days in advance, so now I’m stuck here and I need to get home.”

I ask if there is anyone that can pick her up. She shakes her head and proceeds to ask me, “How come people can be so mean?”

Apparently the person she asked for help right before me had sworn at her and told her to leave him alone, which shook up whatever faith she had in humanity.

With a heavy heart, she asks me questions I am not sure I have answers to like, why don’t people have more compassion? I can feel my heart inching out toward her. She has spoken to something in me that feels compelled to reassure her that not everyone is cold and heartless. There are good people in this world and it is important that she knows that.

Pointing to her legs she says, “This could happen to anyone.” She recounts how she had an accident but would do anything if she could just walk again to get from the bench where we were to the home where she longed to get back to.

In the five minutes I stand beside her this is what I learn: She’s getting her PhD in Child Psychology at McGill. She once had a diplomatic passport because her father used to work for the Prime Minister. She traveled all around the world with her parents and lived in Japan for many years. She is half Greek and half eastern European.

“My grandmother used to make the best gefilte fish.” Because it turns out her grandmother used to cook for the Steinbergs­, a prominent Jewish family that founded grocery store chains in Quebec in the early 1900’s. At this point I take out my wallet and look at the two $20 bills lying in there side by side.

—

I start my day with a simple prayer that Marianne Williamson taught me from the book A Course in Miracles. I ask the universe, “Where would you have me go? What would you have me do? What would you have me say, and to whom?”

Whoever I encounter that day or whatever happens, I believe in some way I am led to them. So for whatever reason, this woman sitting outside the café was put in my path.

When I hand her the bills she takes my hands in hers, and they are warm and soft. “God bless you,” She says. I look into her pale blue, kind eyes and am reminded of my grandfather’s eyes. A survivor of the holocaust, he had eyes that were deep wells of untold pain and stories and kindness.

I’m happy to prove that there are good people out there, that the universe is a kind place.

She tells me I did a “mitzvah,” clearly familiar with Jewish vernacular. I ask her how to say thank you in Japanese and she proceeds to delight me with a few sentences. I say goodbye and head home to tell my husband Dan about the woman on the bench I just met.

—

The story could have ended there, but it’s what happened the following day that threw me off balance.

I was walking back from doing some errands when a woman caught my eye. She was sitting on a ledge outside the YMCA talking to another woman standing beside her. I positioned myself so that the sitting woman couldn’t see me, but I could still overhear their conversation. It went something like this.

“I’m sorry but my transport cancelled and I need to get home. Can you check on your phone how far it is?”

My heart dropped and I could feel my face getting hot. I stood there for a moment in shock watching as stranger after stranger continued to stop for her, wanting to help.

I went home and recounted the story to Dan. As I spoke, I felt my emotions transform from anger to utter confusion. I asked myself, was she really disabled? Was she really a student? What was true and what was just a story to pull at the hearts of strangers passing by? Did it even matter? I wasn’t sure.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I spoke. I suddenly felt naïve and foolish. “How do I respond to those in need from now on?” I asked him. “How do I know who really needs my help? Do I close my heart in protection? Do I stop giving because maybe I’ll be fooled again? Do I confront her?”

Dan held me and assured me I didn’t have to close up. He told me that there was no harm in giving to her. I didn’t put myself in danger. I didn’t get pulled into a thousand dollar scam. I lost forty dollars to someone who probably needed it a lot more than I did, and maybe next time I wouldn’t be fooled again.

After sleeping on it, I realized that what angered me most was the feeling of being deceived. I hated feeling so vulnerable and pulled into someone’s story that I couldn’t distinguish truth from scam.

Every day in my work I hear my client’s stories of pain and struggle, and in order to empathize with them, a part of me needs to feel into that part of myself that they are struggling with. And what I realized was that, while I have a gift for empathy and a soft spot for people’s vulnerability, it can also be my kryptonite.

If I’m not aware of the shadow side of the innocent part of me that wants to be helpful, I can easily be taken advantage of.

The innocent is an archetype that we all have as children. We see it in every Disney movie when the film begins with a child, an orphan– someone who naively steps out alone into the forest to greet the animals without knowing who is a threat and who they can trust, which might lead them to befriend a wolf who lures them into the dark forest by pretending to be a grandmother who looks shockingly like a wolf.

The innocent is the part of us who is naturally open and trusts that people are who they say they are. It is the part of us that might give another chance to a date whose been treating the waitress poorly, or excuse the behavior of someone who serves our own interests. But maybe we should take Maya Angelou’s words to heart, “When people show you who they are, believe them.”

Once you know that you’ve been tricked, it’s natural to feel angry, and there is always the possibility of becoming cynical.

I could have gotten mad and, in the extreme case, called the cops on her, or I could have warned all the other strangers not to approach her because she was a liar and a swindler. It is far easier to react out of fear or injured pride and exact our revenge.

We promise ourselves we will never be swindled again—“Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” If we start to believe that everyone is motivated by self-interest or that everyone is out to get us, we risk closing our hearts instead of opening up to compassion.

What I learned was even after all that, the woman on the bench still deserved my compassion. I still had the privileged position of being able to walk away, come back home, and have dinner with my loving husband.

I had a choice whether to give to her at all. No one would be the wiser if I chose to walk away. But in practicing being a loving and compassionate person, I learned that I want to give without attachment to how it will be received and without expectation that I am owed something in return.

I can’t control how the money is spent once I choose to give it, and if I wanted to do that, I could have bought her a meal instead.

I don’t think it is my business to judge anyone else’s life and circumstances. Instead, I want to be able to give and let go, and walk away with my heart a little lighter. Let go of needing to hear a thank you. Let go of the gesture being appreciated. Let go of the attachment to a particular outcome. Let go of judgment. Let go of control.

I know that the only thing I can ever be in charge of is myself and my own response—my thoughts, my words, and my own actions, and the decision to show up every day and try and keep this heart of mine open when it is so much easier, and more tempting, to keep it closed.

Have you ever been deceived? Have you been more discerning since then? What’s helped you hold on to your compassion?

About Myrite Rotstein

Fullness Coach and Pattern Disruptor Myrite Rotstein helps women stop filling up with food, people pleasing, and self-doubt and learn to fill themselves up from the inside out, so they can stop dimming their light and remember their ‘nuf'ness.’ She leads monthly Fullness Circles to help women elevate one another, speak their truth, and spark connection. Visit her at myriterotstein.com.

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Get in the conversation! Click here to leave a comment on the site.

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[beccawastaken]

My life summarized Pt.2

Pt.1 ended at about age 11, or so I thought, I now realize I was not finished. I also want to apologize in advance for any repetition I do not catch, I have some major memory issues and will do my best to keep the redundancy to a minimum.

Not long after my parents divorce was finalized and my grandfather died. After reading back on the first part I realized I neglected to mention (a lot of things lol) what growing up just me and mum was like. When her and dad separated she started Nursing school, she worked so hard at this and she graduated! For as long as I remember my mother seemed as if she was two different people, on one hand she could walk into a room and light it up. Make people smile and laugh and it was as if nothing ever bothered her, she seemed on top of the world. The flip side was extremely opposite, you could feel the tension when you were around her, I walked on eggshells and made sure to behave. Since it was just her and I growing up I learned to adapt to these moods and used myself as a tool to bring her out of them, I was like her personal court jester. I would do anything to try to make her laugh, hoping she would just get out of bed, or even crack a smile.

Early on I learned to set my feelings aside to ensure she was alright. It broke her heart when I was sad or upset so I started keeping those feelings to myself. She was able to read my facial expressions, so I taught myself to control those as well. Anything to keep her in a good mood. This was exhausting and unfair. I had no idea that this was an abnormal home life, why would I think that, I had nothing to compare it to. She loved me dearly and did everything for me, we always had food on the table and the basic needs were taken care of. 

Mum had a hard time sleeping at night as I do now, she would take it to extremes tho, she would rearrange furniture while blasting classical music. She was a heavy smoker and always had a cup of coffee nearby. She didn't have many friends and dated sometimes but I was never really exposed to that side of her. She used to take me out for midnight cruises and she was always snapping pictures of the sunset as she drove, she would just hold the camera out in front of me or towards whatever window and always got the most beautiful shots.

She was such a beautiful soul, in my eyes she was incapable of hurting a fly, I never saw her lash out violently or anything like that. When the family was at odds she got kind of loud but so did the rest of them. She was definitely the black sheep of the family.

She had her first child when she was 17 and long story short my sister was raised by my grandmother as my aunt. Yes, you read that correctly. My mother told me the truth when I was 8 cause she was afraid some spiteful family member would tell me in order to hurt her. Now that I am writing all this out and have made two long entries and have not gotten past age 11 I am starting to realize why I was/am such a mess as an adult.

I just had a memory (part of the memory issues I mentioned, I have either blocked out or forgotten parts of my life due to trauma, or self inflicted brain damage from drug use however, sometimes something will trigger a memory, like right now) by the time I was not seeing my grandparents for those years cause of mums drama regarding grandpa (see Pt 1) I had been molested by a teenage boy that was my babysitters son, another female babysitter that lived on my grandmas street and some cousins. I never told anyone about this, as I didn’t see it as important.  Also, my first consensual sexual experience was with a girl my age when we were 8 or 9.

I was a ball of childhood anxiety to the point I would grind my teeth at night and needed a special retainer. I had been in some form of therapy for as long as I could remember, Al-anon is what I remember first, then I remember a Dr Switzer I think his name was. I remember he smelled odd, had bad hair and I believe his shirt was pink, I liked the shirt. He showed me ink blot pics I think, not quite sure, anyway, what I am saying is that clearly mum knew something was up with me and tried to get me help for it...if only she had shifted perspective and realized she was allowing me to do the work she refused to do for herself. Had she faced her own issues, I would have been a totally different person, and she still might have found some happiness.

When I was 11 puberty hit and I got my period and instabreasts, the boys started to take notice and the girls started to dislike me. I was often bullied in school, I never fought back, instead I would do things like steal their stuff from the locker room during gym class etc. I had a really bad attitude, lots of anger and zero respect for authority. I still struggle with respecting authority.

So when I was in grade 7, so I guess I was 12, I met the best friend I had ever had.  She was new to my school, although I spoz I was too as it was my first year however she started mid-year. She had this thick, long, curly hair and the boys in my class were spitting spitballs into it, not sure what I did but I made them stop and told her what was happening. That was it, we were instantly bonded.

This friend of mine and I were inseparable and got into a lot of trouble together. We had differently fucked up home lives and never anyone to defend us against the bullies or life in general so we did it for each other. It was so nice having someone to lean on, someone to love me back. By time we met we were both so angry with our parents that we had lost major respect for them. Mine, a mentally ill nurse and hers a biker bitch with problems of her own, we needed an outlet for these emotions, even though we hadn't realized what was wrong at the time. We needed each other, loved each other and got into a lot of trouble together.  And found out as if by magic she would be moving into my housing complex. Two doors down to be exact! We couldn't have been happier.

The school we met at eventually kicked us out for calling in a bomb threat, I say this so casually now, I can’t imagine a kid today calling something like this in, but keep in mind in 1989-1990 terrorism and bombings weren't nearly as common, or weren't widely publicized anyhow. I am not trying to justify our behaviour in any way, and as I type it I am mildly appalled at my behaviour. We ransacked a school where my fathers was speaking at an AA meeting. That made the papers but it was never revealed as to who the culprits were. We stole countless dollars from my dads safe, which wasn't locked up at all just a secret place he had it hidden.

Before I was 13 I had been charged with assault and uttering threats as this same friend, I was there so I was also charged. I ended up on probation with a curfew as a result. They (our parents) tried to keep us apart, but it didn’t work. We needed each other in a way they could not understand. I feared no authority, especially my often at this point delusional or drunk mother. So I just did what I wanted, and I wanted to see her, she was the best thing that ever happened to me. We had crushes on two best friends, we had plans for the future away from our parents and all the others that opposed us. Her mum tho, was something I had never encountered.

I loved her mum, she was my aunty and raised me for quite some time, I had never seen her get violent and my friend (who we shall call Lanie) never spoke of how she was treated at home, I never asked, all I knew is she had a lot of anger and I was glad to be on her good side. She also had a lot of chores, something I had few of so I would help her with hers so it would get done faster and we could get out of the house. I was not experienced with dish washing but that was the job she asked me to do so I did. I guess I did a really bad job cause when her mum got home she screamed, and took a (i still remember the exact cup) glass tumbler with a handle and pointed at some stuff stuck in the bottom that I hadn't gotten and hit Lanie over the head with it...numerous times. I was in such shock I couldn’t move, I definitely couldn't muster the courage to admit it was me. Scared shitless we went to her room and she asked me why I hadn't said anything, and i admitted I didn't know how and that I was sorry.

Needless to say we were separated for good, and she was too scared to cross her mum to chill with me so I left her be...she had a birthday party and all our friends went, I wasn't allowed, we lived two doors apart, this became really hard for me. I guess that is when I turned my attention to the opposite sex, full force.

Every time I reread to edit I think of things I feel I should add...I honestly had no idea I had been through so much. Life was just that exactly, Life. If I ever write an actual book I will have to work harder on the hows and whens to better organize these events.

I haven’t even gotten to the teen years yet...I will start that in Pt 3.