#only reason i was suspect at first that they were following me was cause they kept changing lanes when i did

[extervus]

Having a phenomenal mental map + mental compass is good for many reasons but specifically rn it was very useful in losing a car that was following me in a neighborhood I've never driven thru before 🤙

[sagejin]

EMPTY

The Human Heart

Gojo x reader + Nanami x reader

MASTERLIST

<-previous next->

CW: mentions of cheating,pregnancy, (tell me anything i missed)

AUTHORS NOTE**

hey guys. there's no reason this chapter should have taken me 7-8 months. my laptop was out of commission for a while, and i only really replied to some comments. I want to try and wrap this series up before the year ends, so hopefully I find the motivation to do soo <33 also pls don't mind how fucked up the time line is

“A fancy sandwich shop,” Nanami questioned, “that’s where you're taking me?” “Yep,” you grinned, “my treat to you!” You took Nanami's hand into yours gently and pulled him into the shop, the smell of fresh bread wafting through the air. Nanami looked at the menu above him, “They’re pretty expensive,” he hesitated, “you sure about this?” “I took you here, knowing it’s expensive,” you chuckled, “don’t worry about the price and pick what you want.”

When your turn to order came, Nanami picked the sandwich that sounded the most appetizing. As you reached for your wallet to pay, He reached for his, pulling his card out and handing it to the cashier. However, before the card could touch the cashires hand, you snatched it away and replaced it with yours. The two of you headed to a table by the window to wait for your order.

“Here you go,” you handed Nanami his card, “next time I say I'll pay, please don't try to pay for me. It wouldn’t be much of a treat if you did.” Nanami looked at you, surprised, “Alright then.”

The buzzer next to you rang, alerting you that your order was ready, “I’ll get it.” Nanami watched as you walked away, smiling to himself. 

If someone told him a couple months ago that he’d be sitting across from you like this, he’d say that they were crazy and didn't know what they were talking about. He would say that there was no chance you’d ever look at him like that. He would say that he loves you, that he wants the best for you, even if it's with another man. He would say that he's content just watching you from afar.

He would say he's even happier watching you up close, watching you return to him, to your table.

“Y/n.”

“Yes?”

He looked at you with a dreamy look in his eyes, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

 He chuckled at the puzzled look on your face. You sat down across from him, placing your food on the table. He watched you take a bite of your sandwich, then offered you the first bite of his. “Eat it,” he gestured, “But you haven't even—” “Eat.” You took a bite, eyes widening slightly, “It’s good! Here,” you gestured your sandwich towards him, “Eat it.”  

“Y/n?”

Your breath hitched “Y/n?”

You turned towards the voice behind you, “Gojo,” also noticing the person behind him, Kira. “Should we leave?” Nanami asked, “No. I came here for you.” You picked up your sandwich and shifted your focus back to Nanami, sending him a quick smile. 

~

“Satoru,” Kira grasped the material of his shirt softly, "l-lets go elsewhere—" 

"Were you cheating on me?"

“Are you being serious,” you said bewildered, “was I cheating  on you?” “Yea,” he says, “you seem to know each other pretty well.”  “I was nothing but loyal to you, you were the one who cheated, you were the one who got someone else pregnant, you were the one who caused our relationship to end.” He stares at you eyes wide, “So who’s this then? We haven't been apart for long and you’ve already got your so-called friend as a rebound. I should have suspected this the moment he picked you up from our apartment”

You stand up from your seat and turn to him fully, “You should be worrying about your pregnant girlfriend and not about what I spend my time doing. You chose to be with her, deal with it.” With that you walked out of the shop.

~~

Nanami stood from his seat, ready to follow after you, “She’s just using you, she doesn't really want you.” He stops, shoulder to shoulder with gojo, “Even if she wants to use me, toss me aside, I'd let her.”  Gojo scoffs, removing his arm from Kiras grip, fully facing Nanami, “I know i hurt her, i can acknowledge that. I know I betrayed her trust, but I betrayed her physically, my heart has always belonged to her, she’s always been my everything. There's no excuse for me cheating on her, but when it happened—” 

“You should be saying this to her, not me. I can't help you.” The anger Nanami felt for you, the hurt, he couldn't take listening to Gojo’s nonsense any more and left the shop.

~~

“What was that? What do you mean she has your heart?” Kira questioned. “Don’t worry about it, it's nothing. What do you want to eat?” 

Gojo was hers, body, mind, and soul, she's done her best to make it true. He has no reason to still like you, she was the one carrying his child, she was the one who held him at night, she was the one who comforted him when he was down. His heart belonged to her. “Do you still like her?” He turns to her, something unknown in his eyes. 

“Now's not the time,” he took her hand in his.

She yanked it out and stops towards the door.

Anger.

Anger for the fact he still holds onto you.

Anger for the idea that he was ready to abandon her for you.

Anger for the fact that he wasn’t hers,

That he was yours.

~~

She slams the front door as she enters their penthouse, Gojo following close behind her. “You love her don’t you? You still love her right?”

Silence

She scowls, walking towards him with tears in her eyes, pounding on his chest, “You chose me! You left her and chose me! You didn’t fight when she left, you didn’t fight and you came to me. You held me in your arms, and loved me, but she’s still in your heart?”

“I didn’t choose you, I chose the baby.”

“BULLSHIT!” she screamed, “Everything, those sweet, sweet things you told me, were they all lies? Has everything we’ve been through been for nothing! I LEFT EVERYTHING BEHIND FOR YOU, FOR OUR FUTURE! My family, my boyfriend, everything I knew, I left for you.  But you still love her? She's still in your heart?” 

He grabbed her wrists, halting her movements, steadying her for a moment. As her breathing calmed he gently let go of her wrists, opting to place a finger under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

‘He looks different’ she thought.

‘This feels different’

He gently wipes her tears, staring deep into her large honeyed eyes, “Boyfriend?” 

<-previous next->

Tag list (closed): @kiwifujin @soda-rin @roseycottage @shuxjodie @aeanya @reapersimps @shaylove418 @voldimir @brumous11 @stillintheupsidedown @onyxvoid @littlemochi @hiqhkey @emiliangnl @pyschopotatomeme @kiwibao @wonderpals02 @arievir @sakaki-chaaaaann @cloudsinthecosmos @creolequeen11210 @hojicha-expresso @kokotakeomi @ackerstain @shuxjodie @rhea-sylvia @kiuzoiu @e-mptyspaces @sindela @tsunotaro-san @kawaiivillainess98 @mc-reborn @adiiley @sindela @tsunotaro-san @ackermanbby @dcvilxswish @keilaq1 @thefictionalcharachterssimp @ilovemen109 @glitteryhoundpatrolbonk @shin-seo-eun @mandysfanfics @dreamsarenicer @doumalove

[rogerswifesblog]

Hi Vera😘❤️

for your 1k bingo: Ari + sex pollen👀

Imagine Ari being an agent. Ari jokes around and flirts around a lot, which makes you cautious about what comes out of his mouth. Stuff like "you're a peach" "can you help me with this, sweetheart?" "My heart just stopped, you're so beautiful." He would say this to different agents and scientists all day without truly meaning it. But you have a huge crush on him, nonetheless.

Fast forward to the incident, when Ari played around the lab carelessly one day and accidentally caused lab scientists to mix up two dangerous chemicals. And since he's the only one in the lab who didn't have a full hazmat suit on, he inhaled the chemicals (which is sex pollen) and was sent to quarantine. And when his mind is in a haze, the only name that stuck in his head is yours👀👀👀

Does he call you to the quarantine room? Do you perceive his words as a desperate measures or you believe him? Does he tell you about his feelings after the pollen wears off?👀👀👀It's your decision! :3 Surprise me hehehehehe😘😘😘

(And probably the fourth(or fifth?) Time, congratulations on your 1k❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Ari + sex pollen???? Damn👀 an idea I never knew I needed but yeah. Love it.

And thank you sm!🥺❤️

Turns out I’m shit at short Drabble writing so this one is 4 k, enjoy 🤣

All drabbles will be posted with the tag “1 k followers special” just look for it on my blog:)

Addicted to you

Warnings: dub-con (sex pollen), p in v, unprotected sex, squirting

„Hello, gorgeous, how’s your day?“, your favorite coworker asked, not you. He leaned over Mindys table, right in front of you, making you sigh quietly.

Ari was a very friendly and also handsome man. Most agents, especially all women, had a crush on him, even married once.

And of course, you.

You had a crush on your work partner, making your life awfully miserable. At first you actually thought something was between you, a little spark maybe. All the flirting and sweet petnames seemed to be special, right? Wrong. At least to Ari. He called half the agents gorgeous or flirted his way out of writing reports. At this point whenever he came to you, offering his sweet smile and glances, you knew it was for a reason.

"you're a peach" “No, Ari, I won’t share my lunch.”

"Can you help me with this, peach?" “No, Ari, I won’t write your report”

"My heart just stopped, you're so beautiful, peach." “No, Ari, I won’t fall for that. Go get you your own coffee.”

It’s always the same game. Him trying to flirt his way out of something and you having to do everything to not lose your mind over his words. You’d do anything to hear these compliments honestly. Having Ari call you beautiful because you two went on a date and not because he needed something.

At first you had fallen for it, still hoping the spark you felt was real-but then you noticed he didn’t seem to care about his words as much as you did. How many women here thought he actually meant any of it? How many agents had or will have their heart broken because of his careless thinking? Well, you were definitely one, but probably not the first.

“Oh, really? You don’t have to do that, gorgeous, are you sure?” “Oh course, Ari. I wanted to get a coffee anyway, it wouldn’t make much sense for you to walk unnecessarily if I’m already on my way”, said the clearly not suspecting woman. Sometimes you felt bad for them, really, but on the other hand you knew Ari wouldn’t stop his flirting. You tried to tell him to stop, but it seemed like it was a part of his personality he just couldn’t ‘turn off’.

Grinning Ari walked over to your desk, plopping down on it with his ass, nearly knocking over your own coffee, “be careful you imbecile”, you hissed, making the man laugh. “Good morning to you too, peach. I can tell Mindy to get another coffee for you, if you want”, “no thank you, I like my coffee without the taste of slave, besides I still have mine”, with that you stubbornly took a long sip of your coffee, trying not to frown when you noticed how cold it had already gotten. And Ari definitely saw it too, but he didn't comment on it.

“So, what are we doing today? I heard they have something for us in the laboratory?”, he asked instead, leaning a bit closer to you so he’d be able to read whatever you were writing. His aftershave immediately hit you, making you feel lightheaded. God, how could someone smell this good?

What you didn’t know, he was thinking the same about you, not being able to stop himself from leaning a bit further into your personal space and nearly falling from the desk. “Ari, stop that or you might already sit in the chair with me-” “oh that’s not a bad idea, let’s-“ “no.”

He furrowed his eyebrows a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. “But why-“ “Hey, Ari, I got your coffee-and they called you into the lab. They said it’s urgent”, said Mindy, walking up to your desk and giving Ari his coffee. Was her blouse further open than before?

Head shaking you stood up, ignoring that she didn’t even greet you. “Ari, let’s go”, you didn’t let him talk to Mindy anymore, already grabbing his massive biceps and pulling him to the labs. “Wait-I wanted to-” “I don’t care what you wanted to do, you’re here to work and not to flirt” “geez, chill, someone’s got their panties in a twist-tho I couldn’t help you untwist them, peach.” “Ari-”

At this point you weren’t even sure why he was still your work partner.

Just when you wanted to enter the lab someone held you back, one of the interns smiling up at you. “Oh hello, Peter, everything okay?”, you smiled at him, not noticing Ari rolling his eyes when the young man blushed. “I have some documents for you to sign, it’s important”, since it was important you told Ari to go and ask the scientists about the substance they found while you’d sign the papers.

“So, Peter, how was your weekend?” You asked the young man, while sitting down at your desk. He sat down in the chair in front of your desk, looking around your office. Mindy seemed to ignore him, just like she did ignore you. What a bitch. Did she really only talk when Ari was around?

Peter cleared his throat. “It was really fun, we-“ a shrill alarm sounded, alarming everyone to leave the building. Fire? No it wasn’t the fire alarm. You’ve never heard this before. Grabbing petter by the arm you immediately left your office, hearing Mindy's steps behind you. “What’s happening?”, you called out to one of the guards.

“There was an accident in the lab. Some chemicals exploded-“

Your chest immediately tightened. Oh god. Ari. No, no, no. What if he got hurt? What if he- “Miss, we need to go”, your intern interrupted you, pulling you out of the building. “No wait- I need-Ari is still there-”

The whole floor was closed for two days. Two days in which you didn’t know what happened to Ari. You were worried sick-and heartbroken. His behavior may be annoying but it didn’t mean your heart had stopped craving him. It seemed your feelings only grew in the past days.

As soon as you entered the building you went to your boss to ask about Ari, not receiving much information only that he was alive but in quarantine. Did it mean he had a disease? Maybe whatever the scientists had found was incurable?

Again you felt yourself nearly hyperventilating. “Please let me see him. I just want to see he’s alive. I don’t believe it until I see it myself”, you nearly begged with tears in your eyes. Your boss sighed, rubbing the brick of his nose with two of his fingers. “Fine, fine just-stop crying. I can’t handle that”, he mumbled walking you to the quarantine room.

You could see him through a window and your boss was right, he was alive.

But he looked like death was close.

He was sweaty, his clothes soaked and hugging his body like a second skin. His skin was pale. Dark circles beneath his eyes. His wrists cuffed to the bed. God, poor Ari. “What’s wrong with him?” “We don’t really know…He was affected by the chemicals. The scientists said he inhaled them and immediately felt dizzy, hot…started mumbling some nonsense about peaches”, said the man. Just when you wanted to ask something else his phone rang. He excused himself and walked away.

The ringing had caught Ari’s attention. “Peach-peach”, he whined, writhing in the bed like crazy. His wrists were already red and scratched, but it didn’t stop him from pulling at them harder. You swallowed, seeing his wrists bleeding.

“Miss, you’re not allowed to be here”, one of the doctor’s came, pulling you a bit further away from the window. You noticed how it made Ari even angrier than before, throwing himself from side to side. “Bastard! Don’t-don’t fucking touch her!”, he hissed, making you immediately pull away from the doctor who had touched your arm. Ari stopped his movements, his breathing slowly calming down.

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, the doctor doing the same and reaching out to you again, making Ari going feral. Seeing the hand of the stranger touching your skin made him pull at the restraints even harder, till they started cutting in his skin. Not wanting Ari to hurt himself, you stepped away from the man, closer to the window noticing how Ari tried to lift his hand-which wasn’t possible.

“Let me in. I think he…wants my company?”, you mumbled. The man seemed unsure. “We don’t know what the chemicals did to his body-he’s still…unstable. And maybe contagious-“ “Please, I think he’ll feel better when I’m there”, the Doctor sighed and pulled out a key, opening the door. As soon as you walked in Ari tried to pull at his restraints to touch you, which he managed when you sat down at the edge of his bed.

A moan escaped his throat when your cool hands touched his burning forehead. “Oh god, you have a fever-and you’re drenched”, you whispered, wiping away the sweat from his skin. “I’m-hot. Too hot”, he mumbled, sitting a bit up and hiding his face against your throat, immediately inhaling your smell. The soft smell of your peachy parfum. So, so good. So addicting. “So nice…missed you, peach”, he mumbled, his lips touching your throat, close to kissing.

“Ari, you should…you’re totally out of your mind”, you pushed him back into the pillow, turning around to the doctor who was still watching you two. And taking some notes, huh? “Excuse me, could you get me a cloth and bowl of cold water?”, the doctor nodded, leaving you two for a few moments.

Your hand caressed Aris cheeks, slowly brushing down to his chest, his chest heaving uncontrollably, heart pounding so fast you couldn’t count the beats. “I’m so sorry I let you walk into the lab alone. I should’ve known something would happen…”

Ari moaned again, pushing himself into your palm. He felt completely overwhelmed, especially now that you were here. So close. Touching him.

“I’m hot-I want it off-take it off”, he tried to grab at his clothes, pulling them away from his body, but he couldn’t really move his hands. His breathing became even faster than before. You knew you probably shouldn’t act on his words, but seeing his big blue eyes begging you. “Okay, okay, I’ll help you”, with that you started pushing up his shirt, but stopping at his chest. “You’re cuffed-I can’t help much more, I’m-“ “take them off. I don’t want them-take them off”, he started fidgeting again.

That’s when the doctor from before came in with a cloth and water. “What are you doing miss?” “Open the cuffs-” “miss-“ “open the fucking cuffs! Don’t you see he’s bleeding? When will you react?! When he breaks his wrists?!!” You started arguing with him, making the man jump in surprise, not expecting your yelling.

“Fine, but I’m leaving the room.” He only put the bowl with the cloth aside, giving you the key to Aris cuffs. Then he quickly left the room leaving you with Ari behind.

You felt your own hands shake while slowly opening the restraints. Before you could even really let Ari pull out his hands he was already taking off his shirt, not caring about the ripping sound. When you noticed how he tried to open his pants you gasped quietly. “Wait Ari-no-pants no”, you took his hands that were working on his zipper, making him moan quietly while he pushed his hips up into your hands.

It surprised you and you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling your hands away again. “Fuck no-don’t stop”, he mumbled grabbing you by the hips and pulling onto his hips, letting you feel his hard dick throb in his pants. “What-Ari, what are you doing-hey-no”, you swatted his hands away, grabbing the wet cloth and hitting his chest with it.

Ari gasped, his eyes focusing a bit more while he looked up at you, still lightheaded but less than before. “Please-I don’t know what’s happening to me-but I need you-fuck, I need you so bad, please”, he sat up and immediately buried his face again your throat, kissing and sucking at your skin. He was losing his control.

He felt exactly like he felt when the chemicals first hit him.

As soon as he opened the tube, a yellow powder explosion went right in his face. Everything around him started to spin, his vision getting blurred and-he felt aroused. So fucking aroused.

Why weren’t you here? You were supposed to come with him. He needed to see you. No.

He needed to fuck you.

God. He wanted to feel your skin. Your lips. To taste you. He wanted to taste the sweet peachy shampoo or parfum-or whatever it was that made you smell so good.

“Peach-where’s-peach”, he moaned quietly, bracing himself on the table next to him. He didn’t even know what was happening around him. The people calling a code something-and grabbing him, touching him. He hated the touch of these people. He wanted you. “Peach-no-not you-peach-“

“Ari, are you okay?”, when your voice pulled him out of his thoughts he grabbed your arms again. “I can’t control myself-I need you-fuck-please-“, he mumbled close to your lips, already wanting to kiss them, but you pushed him away.

Someone walked into the room again, two doctors you didn’t know. “We found out what it is-but there’s no cure for it”, hearing this made your throat tighten. No cure? “Miss, he won’t die-not if…the person of his desire…helps him out.” You didn’t understand what they were talking about and it was also hard to concentrate with Ari trying to kiss your throat or sucking hickeys into your skin.

“What do you mean help him out? What should I-Ari stop it-that tickles-“, you tried to push his head away, feeling his beard tickle your throat. He whined when you pushed his forehead again, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Miss, we think Mr Levinson was affected by, the so called, sex pollen, a drug making the affected wanting to…breed and reproduce. It won’t stop until he…fulfills his needs.” The doctors words made your mouth immediately feel dry, like you hadn’t drank anything for days.

“I…need to have sex with him?” Both doctors looked at each other, then back at you. “We can probably try to find someone to…help him, but he seems to react to you.”

For fucks sake, why couldn’t he be affected by…something that wouldn’t make him want to reproduce.

Of course you’ve always wanted it, but not like this. You wanted for it to matter and not when Ari was not himself. Drugged.

You swallowed. Then swallowed again.

“Okay…i'll do it, but…can we have privacy? A room without a huge window?”, you asked self consciously, finally letting Ari bury his face further in your neck and cleavage since he definitely heard you agreeing to sleeping with him.

The doctors seemed a bit uncomfortable in this situation. “Yeah this window has curtains. Well let them down and then you can-“ “Yeah I know-just-go. I’ll take care of him”, you mumbled a bit embarrassed and also slowly turned on. How could someone not get turned on when the person they love kissed their throat and cleavage? Or nibbled at your earlobe? Fuck, your panties were probably drenched.

A couple minutes later the doctors were gone, the curtains lowered and some of the buttons of your shirt open, but Ari seemed impatient just ripping the rest from your body, making you gasp quietly. “Ari-“, you moaned, letting him pull you over his lap, his hard dick immediately pressing into your cunt. There were still too many layers between you two, making Ari mumble something unhappily, while he opened his pants, hastily pushing them down.

You quickly helped him out of his clothes, nearly falling from his lap since Ari was so impatient to finally get out of these he kind of got carried away and was close to actually pushing you from the bed. As soon as his body was completely bare he sighed in relief and grabbed your waist, pushing you into the bed. You didn’t had much time to appreciate the beauty of him, before he started hastily ripping your skirt and slipping from your hips, immediately pushing your legs open.

“Jesus-Ari, we have time-”, you mumbled when he immediately tried to place himself between your thighs, his lips still suckling at your throat. When he reached your breasts he bit into the flesh, making you moan in pleasure and surprise. His tongue circled the pink teeth mark, before hastily doing the same closer to your nipple.

When you felt the tip of his cock press against your wet cunt you couldn’t stop the nervousness creeping up inside you. Even though you weren’t able to really admire him you still noticed the size of his cock.

No wonder he was always this…cocky.

“Ari-oh fuck-”, when he thrusted inside your wet cunt you couldn’t stop the moans from leaving your mouth, especially since he didn’t waste time before fucking you hard and fast. His gaze glued to your cunt swallowing his cock, clearly only thinking about his release.

For a moment you doubted even if it really mattered to him who was beneath him. Did he really recognise you as you or were you just a cumdump to him? (Not that you would’ve mind under other circumstances.)

“Peach-peach look a’me”, Ari moaned, grabbing your chin with one hand, making you look into his blown eyes, the pupil completely swallowing the usually bright color. “My peach-mine”, his words were slightly slurred, but it seemed like he meant it. Maybe. Hopefully.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him a bit closer till your bodies were flushed against one another. “Yes, Ari, your peach. I’m all yours”, you whispered into his ear, not expecting the nearly inhuman sound rumbling from his chest, his thrust immediately quickening, the sound of skin on skin slapping becoming louder, just like the squelching sound from how wet you were for him.

Fuck, it felt so good. He was fucking you like no one else before. His cock was hitting every spot inside you, his pelvis rubbing against your clit from time to time, stimulating you even more. “Fuck-fuck, Ari-I’m close-please-oh god”, as soon as you felt your high approach your nails pushed into the skin of his back and biceps, making him moan in pleasure. The pain felt so good. So, so good.

You were a moaning and shaking mess beneath Ari, while he watched your every reaction. He didn’t know what to say or if he was saying something. He knew he opened his mouth, but the only thing leaving his lips were moans and grunts. He had no idea why he was behaving like this, like…like a feral animal, but all his sensations felt so different, his senses heightened, especially his smell. The smell of you was everywhere, surrounded him, filled his lungs whenever he took a breath.

A few thrust more and your cunt started squeezing him, your walls tightening around him, hugging him like you were made for him. Your mouth was open in a silent moan, your face scrunched in pleasure. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips onto yours, his tongue exploring your mouth. The kiss took you by surprise but you immediately returned it with the same enthusiasm.

Slowly feeling too overstimulated, from having him hit your g-spot over and over again, you felt yourself coming closer to something you’ve never felt before. Not only were you completely lightheaded and cockdrunk, but your whole body seemed to have stopped listening to you. Your legs gave out, your thighs not wrapped around Aris waist like the did before, your arms lightly hanging around his neck.

Ari grabbed your legs, pushing them up to your chest, before continuing his assault on your sensitive spot. The change in position makes him feel even bigger, if that’s even possible. With that he was also now fucking your spot dead on. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat feeling raw from moaning and screaming in pleasure, your whole body useless, just like a doll in his hands.

Before you could react another orgasm rushed over you, this one different, more intense, like never before.

You squirted all over Ari and yourself, your juices gushing onto his thighs and abdomen, a deep growl rumbling in his throat while he pushed his cock deeper into you, grinding against you while you felt him twitch inside you, your walls milking him while was filling you with his cum.

He didn’t stop releasing for a few minutes and you didn’t know if it was because of the drug or if it was just Ari, but when he finally pulled out and put your legs down some of his cum leaked out of you, making him grunt in annoyance and furrow his eyebrows a bit. If you had the strength to do it you'd probably have laughed at his behavior, but your muscles were too sore.

“Come’ere my caveman and stop grunting at my…you know”, you laughed quietly but also a bit self conscious. When he saw your open arms Ari immediately laid onto you, his face pressed into your neck once again. “Mine”, he mumbled barely audible, while you gently scratched his hair and back, noticing the rosy lines you’d left behind.

At that point you didn’t know what to do next. Were you supposed to leave him now? Would he be fine now? But just leaving like that felt weird. Especially since Ari meant to you more than just a friend, way more than that.

A few minutes passed and you noticed how Ari’s body felt cooler now, it even seemed like he had goosebumps. Not wanting him to freeze you grabbed the blanket that was laying on the floor and pulled it over his body. You felt him sigh softly against your skin, cuddling closer into the crook of your neck. It felt nice to have this huge man making himself small to fit into your arms wanting to cuddle.

It also made you think….

Was his head clear now? How would he react? Would he be mad?

“Ari…are you awake?”, you whispered quietly into his ear, hearing him mumble something incoherent back. The corners of your lips twitched while you shook his shoulder again, finally getting him to lift his head. At first he seemed confused, then shocked, then confused again and finally something like..regret.

Oh god, no. He didn’t want it. He regretted it. What if he felt like you- “I’m so sorry you had to do this, peach-I-I never wanted for it to happen like this-fuck. I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t have-” “Ari, it’s okay. I understand. You needed it. We can forget it and just think of it as…needs to an-“ “no. We can’t forget it-please don’t make me have to forget it. I don’t want to forget it..”, his voice quietened to the end, his gaze glued to your face.

Noticing your confusion he leaned down, pressing his lips gently onto yours, only in a sweet peck. A soft smile crept onto his lips, even a blush was visible. “I wanted to do all of it with you…touch you…kiss you…taste you…fuck you”, he whispered the words in your ear, kissing down your throat, before lifting his head again, “I’m sorry it happened like this and not how you really deserved it.”

You still were confused, but your chest tingled with hopefulness. “So you mean-you like me?“, to that Ari only laughed gently before kissing you one more time, passionate and loving.

“But never call me caveman again, tho.”

“Sure…..caveman”

Thank you for reading!

I hope you liked it! Leave some feedback and don’t forget to reblog!

Flood my inbox!:) I’ll try to post one or two drabbles everyday!:)

[supernatural-dreamer]

The Unnatural and Unexpected (Embry Call x Black! Reader)

A/N: Hey you guys! Guess who’s back..back again! I had a few ideas in my head and want to put it out there..I thought about turning this into a series and expanding it further. Leave a comment if I should … as always like, comment and follow… let me know what you think!

This is set during Eclipse around newborn battle. This is tailored for a African American/Black female reader specifically, however all are welcome to read..

~Lauren

—

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Imagine being Embry’s imprint and tagging along with the wolves to their newborn training session. However, you’re always in for an unexpected surprise when you’re around Bella..

People had a lot of different opinions when it came to you. There was one trait, everyone seemed to agree that you possessed:

You were a skeptic. 

Hell, you didn’t even really believe in the Easter bunny or Santa Claus when you were a kid. Magic? Please. Vampires and wolves, no such thing. 

You should’ve known when your family moved to a sleepy ass town straight out of a mystery novel you would be wrong. Dead ass wrong. When the new girl, Bella, befriended you, normal flew out of the window the same time she did last year.     

She dragged you to La Push after the Cullen’s had left the prior year. It was there you were introduced to Jacob, Quil and Embry. You instantly took a liking to La Push, the boys -and particularly Embry. Unexpectedly, they took a liking to you too. 

From then on, you found yourself gravitating more towards the reservation; the tranquil beaches reminding you of your previous Floridan home. You just felt a connection there that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

She also dragged you to Jacob’s house after HE stopped talking to her. 

It was at this point you honestly had to question what this girl was doing to cause people to run away from her like the plague. I mean it wasn’t just a few, but groups of people seemed to just up and cut off ties with her, seemingly overnight

However, after quickly realizing her propensity for sticking her nose in places she probably shouldn’t, it started to make a little more sense. Though, you would be lying if you said that you weren't a tiny bit curious as to what exactly she stumbled upon. 

A group of people that could secretly shift into giant wolves was not at all  on that list of possibilities. 

You being an imprint to one of those shifters? Never even dreamed about it. 

Although, you weren't too upset at the unexpected revelation this time.

She dragged you to the Cullen’s when they returned a few months ago. Outside of Bella’s tales of her interactions with them, you didn’t really hang around or know much about them. You had a few of the members in your class and one of them as a science lab partner a few months back. They were slightly off and distant at first but after you got to a place of polite conversation, you chalked it up to just shyness. When you found out they were vampires, naturally, you didn’t believe her– until you found out about the wolves.

 Suddenly, their isolation and behavior made sense. After that, you never really looked at them the same.

Knowing both vampires and shifters even existed in itself was a shock.  Learning about their sheer abilities was slightly terrifying. You’d be lying if you said being around them didn’t make you feel a little more..vulnerable. Although Bella felt differently, you didn’t like that if things went left for whatever reason, you could be snapped into two with zero hesitation. The only way you could gain any control over this is by immersing yourself into the world of the supernatural at your pace. 

It is why when Embry told you you were his imprint, as much as you liked him, you still kept a little distance. Him and the pack understood- never pushing you past your comfort level. Although Emily, and the other imprints at times, playing referee before things ever got out of control, have a major hand in that you suspect.

Since you lived in Forks, Embry and the pack were away during the day, unless you came to the reservation. You were the only outsider, aside from Bella, that knew both of their secrets. So when she fucked around and found out with Victoria and a newborn broke into your house–you found yourself spending more time at the Cullen's house. Or more accurately, dragged there.

The first few times, it was a little awkward. But after a few visits, they actually started warming up to you and vice versa. Alice gossiped with you from day one–asking you questions about your hair and even complimenting your appearance. You shot the breeze with Emmett about sports. Hell, even Rosalie had warmed up to you a little, much to yours and Bella’s shock. By your third visit, they cooked you dinner.

You had to admit a three hundred-something year old vampire making a pasta dinner from an old ass cookbook was a pretty amusing site. They were actually pretty damn good cooks too.

Embry and the pack were not happy about this, but he knew better than to try and tell you what to do. With all of the newborn activity, there was only so much he could do. He took some solace with the fact others were looking out for you when he was not around. It would be a cold day in hell before he let his pride keep you from being safe--even if it meant dealing with his sworn enemies. Besides, the more comfortable you had gotten around the Cullen's, the closer you got to him and the pack: A bonus in his eyes.

 Regardless of your apprehensions, nothing could be solved if you buried your head in the sand and pretended none of this existed. Whether you liked it or not, yours and Bella’s fates were intertwined. At the very least, you figured you could keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t get herself, others or you into deeper trouble --or worse. 

When she asked you to go with her to the field and watch them train, you obliged. Hopping from the backseat of Edward’s volvo, you slammed the door shut behind you. Bella emerged from the passenger side shortly after and fell into step next to you. You parked yourself on the sidelines of the clearing, far enough away from the action, but close enough to see and hear what was going on.

Not too long after, the shifters, in all their glory, emerged from the trees. Two of them split off from the group and headed toward you and Bella. The slightly smaller, slender one sniffed and circled around you.

“I’m fine, Embry.” You affirmed, chuckling softly. He nuzzled his snout into your palm, and let you scratch behind his ears before running off to join the others, Jacob in tow behind him. All you could do was hold your breath and hope they could play nice for a few hours, as Carlisle stepped up and took his place in front of the pack, Edward slightly behind him.

~

To your amazement, it actually went way better than anticipated. You actually chuckled a few times when Emmett pummeled Edward several times and Alice had gotten the upper hand on Rosalie. Even Carlisle had a few tricks up his sleeve. For a centuries old vampire, he had some moves.

Everything was just about to wrap up, when you saw a few of the wolves perking their heads up in alert. When the Cullen’s stopped mid-stride, turning their heads into the clearing, you started to grow concerned. Embry was next to you in an instant, staring at the clearing, slightly growling.. You were about to ask what was going on when Edward finally spoke.

“The pack has heard something in the woods and Sam is asking if we could assist them. I let them know that we will and will be right behind them. In the meantime, we need to get Bella and YN out of here.” He translates, heading toward Bella. As if on cue, the pack  disappears into the woods, Embry the last one behind. Edward looks at him.

“Esme, Jasper and myself will take Bella and YN back to the house. You are more than welcome to stop by there after the coast is clear. She will be safe.” You can hear him snarl slightly beside you, until you console him. 

“I will be okay. I’ll see you after,” you assure him, patting his head for good measure. Somewhat satisfied at your response, he starts off toward the trees.. Embry turns around, takes one last look at you and the Cullen’s now beside you, then disappears into the clearing. It was as if he was saying,  “Take care of her or, I’m coming after you next..”

You didn’t have to be Edward to know that. 

Once the rest of the coven had taken off with Embry, Esme wasted no time directing her sons.

“We need to split them up in case someone decides to tail us. Edward and I are going to take Bella the long way back to the house. You take YN back as fast as you can. We will trail you until about halfway, then diverge into a different direction.” Before you could protest, Edward was already shutting the door to his passenger seat, Bella already inside.

“You’ll be back before you know it. We’ll be right behind you.” She squeezes your hand in reassurance.

Jasper then looks at you for a second, and your rising anxiety dampers for a bit. You chalked it up to his abilities, before he instructed you.

“It will be easier and faster if I can carry you. Keep your eyes closed, count backwards from 100, and hold onto me as tight as you can. Don’t worry about hurting me. Trust me on this one.” He gently touched your arm in comfort, goosebumps left behind in the wake of his touch. 

Japer Whitlock was a man of few words, but when he spoke it was hard not to listen. For whatever reason, you actually believed him. 

As soon as you were in his arms, Jasper was off. Esme, Bella and Edward were right on your tail before they approached a fork in the road, just as Esme said, and veered off into another direction.

~

Bella might have been oblivious to many things but this was not one of them. As soon as Edward got into the car, she questioned him. The green trees surrounding them turning into blurs as they whizzed passed them.

“What was that all about?” Her significant other remains silent as he speeds up slightly, trying to keep Esme’s pace. 

“He looked at her, the way you did with me when we first met..” She trails off in realization. 

“You don’t think..”

“As unorthodox as it sounds, yes. That’s exactly what it is. Alice didn’t even see this coming.” He sighs, stunning her into silence. 

Edward knew exactly how you felt about the life of the supernatural. If he’s being honest, he wants the same type of normalcy for Bella, despite her desires otherwise. He has seen many things in his afterlife that he did not want her to have to go through, if he could help that. It was very rare that he did not know something due to his mind reading abilities or general knowledge.

Yet, the reasoning as to how a shifter’s imprint could also be a blood singer eluded him entirely.

For the second time these past few years, Edward was at a loss. He did not think it was possible. Even Carlisle has never seen something like this in his extensive afterlife.

He is even more at a loss as to how Jasper will break this to you. The one thing that is clear is the more he keeps it a secret, the more danger he’ll put you in. Although he loved his brother, you became his good friend. He hated too see anyone he cared about in unnecessary danger. So, he gave Jasper an ultimatum: he tells you or someone else will.

This was unexpected and unnatural even, but it was the truth nonetheless.

For a human that wanted little to do with the supernatural, you were now going to be at the center of it.

The bitter irony, he thought as he continued dashing through the trees in the seemingly endless forest. 

—

[usagikookiejams]

Are you still accepting requests? I hope so, I could write about King Wildfire in the romantic theme, it could be anything at all.

RED STRING OF FATE

King the Wildfire x reader

Part 1

A/N: Hey anon! Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it! Sorry for the long wait 😭🙏

My taglist: @selen1um-hexafluoride hey dear, i was only able to write pt2 for King from my previous scenario. I hope u don't mind 🥲

©️ fanart to the rightful owner

The whole situation in Wano settled down. With Kaido being defeated by Luffy, and his subordinates being captured and thrown into prison. Wano had become the prosperous kingdom it was before the tragedy. Everyone is allowed to enjoy their day without being restricted by any rules implemented during Kaido's ruling. So here you are with Hiyori and Yamato wandering around the capital to pass the time. As you are walking, you couldn't help but remember the moment you came across King, the subordinate of Kaido. Thinking back on how your ring finger had tingled right when you saw him. You felt weird thinking back about it as you recalled your grandma's story about the red string of fate which will be experienced by two soulmates. You laughed at the thought, there was no way your soulmate was going to be King. As a matter of fact, it will be impossible considering you're a Straw Hat member thus, such relationship with King will only cause dispute to arise.

Being pulled back into reality, you noticed a man spying on you from one of the alleyways. You grabbed tightly onto your knives, while ensuring not to alert Hiyori and Yamato so as to not cause panic. You dismissed yourself from them and cautiously followed the man. Upon realizing your presence, the man seems to quicken his step and ran into a secluded garden. You almost didn't get to catch up to his pace but thanks to your knives, you were able to halt his movement. The man stopped running due to shock after your knives were thrown to the ground blocking his way. You looked closely and that's when you saw him. King. The man in front of you. "Why...why are you still here? I thought all of you had been taken to the prison?", you asked nervously. "I got lucky and fled myself before they could catch me," King looked to the ground. "Why are you spying on us? Are you trying to hurt Hiyori-san?", you suspected him of having ill-intention towards Hiyori considering his brother is now the new ruler of Wano. "Silly, it's not because of that...," he retorted, "It is you I was spying on." You were about to attack him when he suddenly grabbed your hand. "Don't you... don't you feel the presence of the red string of fate on your ring finger the first time we met?", he looked you in the eye. Hoping to get the expected response from you.

"Now that I think of it.. I did feel a tingling sensation there. Regardless, why would you wanna know about it?", you still in a state of alertness, preparing for his next move. He sighed and engulfed you in a comforting hug. Then and there he spilled about the story of the red string of fate, and how he witnessed it with his own eyes upon meeting you for the first time. You don't know why, but listening to his confession made you want to believe his words. Truth be told, after some consideration, you do wanna get to know him more. If he indeed was your soulmate. However, realizing the situation going on in Wano right now, you were unsure whether introducing him to the Straw Hats would be a good decision. You sighed and decided to give him a chance, reminding him that you only have 2 days left before leaving Wano.

On the first day,

King and you met at the same garden as before. King reasoned that it is best to get to know each other in a peaceful environment like this. You could still feel the awkwardness going on between you and King. It was understandable though, considering he was your enemy during the battle in Onigashima. Thus, the tension may still be there between you two.

Despite that, King tried to break the tension by asking you questions about yourself; wanting to get to know you better. Not only that, but he also shared some details about himself, such as how particular he is about certain foods. And his favorite things to do in his free time. By the end of the day-one, both of you had known pretty much everything about one another. You could say that you enjoyed spending time with him. Though it was boring at first, but you managed to find an activity or two to enjoy together; fishing at the nearby lake and painting.

On the second day,

You couldn't help but feel excited while getting ready. Opting from a Kimono to a midi sundress.

King was waiting at the same garden, seating on a bench. He turned his gaze towards his right upon feeling someone walking closer to him. He was astonished after looking at you; 'how beautiful,' he thought. You cleared your throat after feeling his intense gaze on you too long for your comfort, you walked closer to him and interlocking your fingers with his; leading him to the next destination while your face displayed the obvious blush.

Now here you are at the capital, enjoying the lively environment there. In which, Wano citizens are still celebrating to welcome their beloved ruler from the Kozuki clan. Thus, there are still many booths in the capital; selling a variety of foods and promoting fun games there. You could sense King becoming a little bit jittery, and realizing this made you come closer to him and whispering comforting words like, "Calm down, they won't notice as long as you keep the mask on," and "It's okay, I'm here so no one will be suspicious of you." Hearing your words really works wonders on his racing heart, he was thankful that you didn't blow his cover and just comforted him as well as you could.

With him feeling less anxious, you just smiled at him and guided him through the booths. Enjoying the plethora of foods and games there. Laughing to your heart's content, forgetting about the worries both of you had just experienced.

By the end of the day, both of you shared a kiss under the firework's display. With people all around you cheering joyfully.

Packing your belongings, you were getting ready to sail back to the sea with the Straw Hats after having been in Wano for quite a while. You were walking to the ship to assist the crew with the boxes and stuff. Once finished and about to return to the castle, you heard Luffy calling out your name, "Y/N, wait." You don't know why but you could feel your heart running miles, feeling nervous for some reason. "I know you have been seeing someone for the past 2 days," Luffy said while looking at the sea. You suddenly felt tears streaming down your cheeks, while profusely apologizing and promising to not do such thing again. You stopped upon hearing Luffy's laugh, "Why are you sorry? I didn't say I want to reprimand you for that. I just want to make sure whether you are serious with him or not."

You couldn't believe yourself whether you hadn't really been hearing things. You looked at Luffy in disbelief, "Are you for real, Luffy?" Luffy just smiled and came closer to pat your shoulders, "Yes I am. Thus, I'm giving you options whether you want to stay in Wano with him. Or you want to continue your journey with us but leave him behind without knowing what will happen to him due to the isolated area of Wano."

So which one would you choose? I will leave the rest to y'all imagination 😝

[simpingland]

Nightmare // Jacaerys Velaryon x Oc!Fem.

Part 3: the tour in search of allies start, and the tension between Gaella and Jace must stop for the same cause. But the first stop is avit more difficult for reasons they never imagined. Part 1, Part 2.

Riding Vermithor was madness for Gaella. She could have bonded with a dragon if it had hatched from her crypt, but as with Aemond, nothing hatched from her egg. But Gaella regretted her cowardice as she joined the Velaryons in bidding farewell to the Queen. Luke gave her an odd smile, trying to reconcile himself to the idea of having her as an ally, but Jace let out a sigh that made Gaella duck her head. She might have thrown herself from the top of the dragon so as not to spend another second of embarrassment. With her flying clothes on, and a braid pulling her hair away from her face, Gaella tried to listen carefully to Rhaenyra's words. They promised to go as messengers, not warriors. And though Jace had a dignified face as he swore, Gaella suspected he was easily irritated the moment someone crossed a boundary. And they all knew it would come to that, this was a war. Rhaenyra gave her a comforting caress on the hand before letting them leave for the beach.

"You still have time to tame Vermithor," Luke reminded Gaella.

"Tell me one more time and I'm going back to the cave, Lucerys," she replied, half-smiling.

"No, cut the crap, both of you," Jace interrupted, his serious tone odd to both of them.

"If I go with Vermithor I wouldn't bother you," Gaella reminded him.

Jace looked at her quietly, and seemed to want to say something, but he held his tongue and no one else wanted to speak again.Luke gave Gaella a hug and then let himself be squeezed by his older brother.

"Whatever happens, don't be afraid, you will never let mother down, and you will never let me down, Luke. But I trust you'll do well." Jace forced him to look him in the eye, Luke nodded.

"I promise I'll do well. Good luck at Winterfell."

"Good luck to you, too."

"Goodbye, Gaella. I'm glad you're back."

"Thank you, Luke...I hope to see you again soon."

And so the three of them parted. Luke walked to the other side of the beach, where his beloved Arrax was waiting for him. Jace walked ahead, expecting Gaella to follow. But the girl's feet were heavy at the thought of climbing onto the dragon. When they arrived, Vermax looked uneasy, but Jace's words relaxed him.

"He can tell you're terrified," he said.

"Don't exaggerate, I'm not terrified...just nervous."

"Sure..."

Jace offered his hand to Gaella, who stood watching. She guessed that was what he wanted, and Gaella placed her gloved hand on top of Jace's. With a look of permission, Jace's dryness was gone for a moment as the girl nodded uncertainly. Gently, Jace pulled the glove from her hand, and Gaella felt the chill of the wind.

"Trust me... nothing will happen to you." The Prince's voice sounded like a caress so close to her, and the girl nodded, gathering in her all that courage she felt she didn't have. He drew her closer to the greenish creature, which was making strange sounds, but which, like Gaella, was blindly trusting in Jace. The warm, scaly touch was strange, but Gaella felt connected to her ancestors and felt some regret that she didn't have a dragon of her own.

"He must like you..." interrupted Jace.

"How do you know?" The girl pulled her hand away, preparing to mount.

"He would have eaten you if he didn't." Jace tugged at her waist to hoist her up and onto Vermax.

"Like you've ever seen a dragon eat someone..."

"How do you know I haven't?" He sat down in front of Gaella, taking the reins.

"You'd be completely traumatized if it had happened... you're too sensi--"

Jace took flight abruptly, leaving Gaella mid-sentence and eliciting a cry of fear at the rapid height they caught. The prince regretted it the instant the girl squeezed his ribs exaggeratedly hard.

Only when Vermax's flight stabilised could Gaella rest her voice, though she still clung tightly to the prince.

"I need to breathe so I can lead us to our destination, Gaella," Jace urged her. The girl let go, blushing slightly.

"Forgive me," she whispered, and Jace pretended not to hear her, though she was more than forgiven.

Their arrival in the Arryn Valley was early. It was late afternoon when they were ushered through. Gaella had to hold on tight again when Vermax landed on one of the stony mountains. The air was beginning to move considerably compared to Dragonstone or King's Landing, but the Princess clung to her cloak as she tried to climb down from the dragon with dignity. Jacaerys helped her as much as she would let him and had to hold on behind her once they were on solid ground.

Lady Arryn sat tall on her throne, jaw set and sharp-eyed, truly Jacaerys' aunt.

"Lady Arryn..." the prince greeted her.

"Prince Jacaerys... it is a pleasure to finally meet my own blood." She smiled at the boy and then fixed his gaze on Gaella, who kept her eyes downcast. "Who is with you?"

Jace waited for Gaella to speak, but she looked cowering before such a large court, so loyal to Lady Arryn. Jace only needed to connect his eyes with her to understand what she needed.

"This is Princess Gaella, my lady. And she is here to help me." His voice echoed through the room, confirming what everyone had deduced from the hair so white and creating whispers and gossip.

"Daughter of Alicent Hightower?" Lady Arryn asked.

"And an ally of the Blacks."

The woman was silent, looking the princess up and down. Finally, she spoke.

"I suppose it is never pleasant to travel alone. Escort me to my chamber, my dear. I prefer some privacy."

That sounded like a rebuke to the court, which quickly ceased the chatter. Jace glanced at Gaella to make sure she was with him, but she didn't move a foot.

"Come on, come with me," he urged.

"I'd better not, Jace." She spoke softly, barely looking at him.

"Is this your big help?" He asked, furrowing his brows and trying to be patient.

"You're going to convince her on your own, I'd just confuse her, save us the moment."

"You must come and join me, Gaella. That was the deal."

"I will help you when necessary, Jacaerys...and now is not the time. Please," she looked up, dead ashamed, "let me retire and wait for you."

The prince nodded and looked around the room for a face to trust before turning away from her. He saw none.

"At least escort me to the hall. Stay close to me."

Gaella nodded and now walked humbly behind him. In the hallway, she remained throughout the talk between the Prince and Lady Arryn. The girl could hear only echoes of the conversation, and, as she had imagined, all was well. Opening the door again, Lady Jane gave her grandnephew a final embrace before retiring to rest before supper.

"You are more than welcome to feed and rest here, my dear. Princess Gaella as well." She smiled so confidently that the thought of making her uncomfortable gave some dread. She closed the door, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway.

"We should leave before nightfall, Jacaerys..." Gaella's suggestion hung in the air as her stomach growled.

"Let me tell you all about it over dinner. We'll get up early, I promise." Jace set off on his way with confidence.

"Why are you so insistent that I come with you if you never listen to me?" Gaella followed him angrily.

"Stop being contrary. You're just as hungry as I am."

Gaella decided to say no more, knowing that nothing coherent or useful would come of that moment. A large room was laid out for them, the food was already served, and the fire in the fireplace prepared. The room was so large that there were two beds, and Gaella was glad to see them.

"I sure smell terrible..." she said to the air, taking off her cloak as she sat in front of the fire with bread, cheeses and wine. "I'd ask for soap and water, but it's useless if we're going to be riding Vermax again soon, how am I going to stand so...disgusting?"

"What happened to you in the room, Gaella?" interrupted Jace, still standing, slowly removing his things, and when the Princess turned to look at him, his eyes were already locked on hers. There was a moment's silence.

"What you already know has happened to me," she replied.

"I don't know, not really."

Finally, Jace sat down beside her, staring into the fire and leaving his profile to her. Gaella looked down at her hands and gave a sigh.

"Lady Arryn is your mother's aunt..." she began.

"But if you come with me everyone knows you are one of us, you need not fear being doubted as long as I am around."

"It is not that, Jacaerys.... Lady Jane had a sister whom she surely adored as much as you may adore Lucerys. And when she died, it didn't take a winter for her to be replaced by another queen who could bear children. And that queen was my mother. Can you imagine the feeling that woman might have for me?" She waited for Jace's answer, but he only gave her a sidelong, serious look. "I know what that feeling is. And it's hate."

They were silent for a few moments, Jace let those words make sense in his head, but the truth was that he couldn't. He didn't know what to say to Gaella to help her, because he didn't understand it himself. She barely knew her, how could he hold such a grudge? He was angry with her for very different reasons, but now was not the time to hold it against her.

"We should concentrate on our next point. And rest." He shoveled food into his mouth, as if justifying that he had nothing to bring her. He couldn't avoid Gaella's look of disappointment. He explained all his talk with lady Arryn and didn't go to bed until he saw the princess finish her dinner.

The beds were set far apart, and the curtains left plenty of privacy. Gaella could not remember the last time she had been so tucked between her sheets. She worried about the winter chill and wondered if Jace was as cold as she was and wanted to look tough, and when she peeked out to look at him in the distance she could see him sound asleep.

She had barely finished falling into a deep sleep when Gaella was startled by noises coming from the room. It was not the sound of a door slamming or a scream. They were murmurs that rose and grew, like a strange cry. When she opened her eyes and saw that it was not a dream, she knew that the cries were Jacaerys'. It took her a while to peek out, fearing the worst.

"No..." he said, "Mother, do something! He's going to fall!"

Gaella peeked out, sure they were alone. "Luke! Luke!"

That last thing he shouted and Gaella panicked, rushing to his bed to pull him out of that terrible place. Tears were streaming from his tightly closed eyes, and he shifted roughly on his mattress. When Gaella's hands came to rest on his face, he seemed to calm instantly.

"Jace! Jace!" she tried not to speak too loudly. "Wake up, it's a dream! Wake up, you're here!"

"Luke..." he whispered, and finally opened his eyes. He came back from that nightmare to find Gaella and her sweet hands and sweet smell. She looked at him with fear, not of him, but for him. When she met his eyes, the girl smiled sweetly and Jace could feel her wiping away his tears.

"It was just a bad dream..." she whispered to him. Her body was almost entirely on top of Jace's, her loose hair flowed over her shoulder and Jace needed to touch her wrist to feel it was real. Gaella matched her breath to Jace's in silence.

"I saw Luke...I saw him drown in the sea." His confession broke Gaella's heart. "I was in the middle of a storm, and I was so scared."

"It was just a bad dream, Jace...he'll be home again. Arrax is a swift dragon, and he and Rhaenyra will be sleeping soundly by now. As will the rest of your siblings, and as should you."

"Lucerys is too young...I'm sure I've been too demanding of him, I always have been."

"Lucerys is a clever boy, don't be afraid for him. He'll be able to do the right thing. You've always been a good brother, loving and patient with him."

"I'm not so patient..."

"But you are quite loving. And Luke knows that it doesn't matter if he fails in his mission, he'll only care about getting back to your side. I'm envious of how much you take care of each other...I'm sure for every bad thing you might have done to him there'll be dozens of good things you've done for him as well."

Jace nodded, trying to forget everything he'd seen in his nightmare. He dreaded going back to that horrible place in his sleep. Gaella stood up, ready to go back to bed, but Jace didn't let go of her wrist and grabbed her hand to turn her around.

"Gaella...remember when you made an exaggeratedly long scarf for your porcelain doll in your netting lessons?"

The question made Gaella smile, immediately remembering what followed that terrible lesson.

"My favourite part of that story is when you put it through my door and Aegon fell trying to cross it."

They laughed as they recalled it, just as they had done as children. It had been one of the thousand times they had seen Aegon become humble.

"Even your Grandsire couldn't scold us, he found it funny too," Jace added.

"Of course it's a great war strategy, dear Gaella, you'd make a great soldier," the princess mimicked her grandfather Otto.

When the laughter died down, Jace's hand was still clasped in Gaella's. Neither let go, and Jace watched Gaella as Gaella watched the hands.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he said.

"Don't worry about it, with the cold it's always hard for me to fall asleep."

"Are you cold?"

"...A little, yeah."

Without thinking too much, Jace used his free hand to lift his quilt, and pulled Gaella to lie down beside him.

"It's not appropriate," the girl reminded him, lowering her voice a lot.

He glanced at her for a moment before turning and turning his back to her, leaving her a considerable space and blocking his hands. She thought for a moment before lying down, but when she got into bed she immediately felt a warmth that was impossible to feel in her bed alone. She sank into the hollow between her and Jace's back and had to suppress her urge to wrap her arms around him and hug him, a little more carefully than she had while they were flying. She still smelled like a dragon, but it was a scent that was growing more and more pleasing to her. Jace felt Gaella's soft breath on the back of his neck, and still facing away from him, he spoke into the air, hoping she would hear his words, even if it was in his dreams.

"If anyone should hate you, Gaella, it is because they have not had the good fortune to know you."

Gaella laid her hand on his arm, drawing a disguised caress and smiled into the darkness, she had heard him.

Taglist: @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @bellstwd

[i-cant-sing]

How would yandere JJK characters handle baby Fushiguro being extremely clingy?

Yandere JJK characters x clingy baby Fushiguro

Uncle Naoya Zenin:

He's annoyed at first. You're hanging onto his legs and begging him to take you along. It's when you started tearing up when he told you he can't bring you along to his business trip.

Naoya's first thought was that someone was hurting you. Is it one of the family members? Or is it a servant?

Naoya bends down to your height, grabbing your shoulders and looking you with utter seriousness. "Y/n, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Has someone been hurting you?" But you shake your head, just clutching onto him tighter.

He had to reschedule his meeting and spend the rest of his day coaxing you to tell him the truth.

"I'll be good. Please don't leave me."Your lips wobbled as you finally confessed your fear.

Naoya always knew that Toji's sudden absence from your life had affected you, but he didn't know it was this bad. He didn't know that you were afraid that other people were gonna leave you to.

The fear of loneliness- he didn't want you to spend the rest of your life being afraid that everyone was gonna leave you.

He surely wasn't.

So from then on, Naoya made sure to put in extra effort to show you that he was always gonna be around. Always gave you verbal reaffirmations that he will always be in your life.

Even when you don't want him anymore.

Yandere Sukuna:

Pretends he doesn't love all the extra attention from you, especially when you invade his domain expansion: Malevolent shrine.

"What do you want now, you brat?" He asks, chin resting on his hand as he looks down at you from his throne.

He watches you raise your arms towards him and pout. "Cuddles?"

"No, we already did that yesterday-"

"Cuddles." You demanded again. He doesn't know for sure, but he suspects that you've been using your cursed energy on him because there's no other explanation why he can't refuse you. It obviously can't help because you're undeniably cute.

"Spoiled brat." Sukuna grumbles as he lifts you into his lap, letting you drape your tiny arms across his chest and sigh happily as you snuggle your cheek against his muscles. "But it you drool on me this time, I swear I will kick you like a football."

He'd never. He can't ever hurt a hair on your extra small head.

Yandere Gojo:

Accepts it, ENJOYS it. He always enjoys being the center of attention, so when you start becoming clingy, following him around everywhere and spending extra time with him even after training hours, he welcomes it.

At some point, he is bound to start dressing you up like him, making you wear his glasses and stuff, letting you copy his mannerisms because it's actually super adorable.

He probably does make sure that there isn't something else that's bothering you and causing you to act like this.

Gojo has definitely strapped you to his chest and brought you along on slightly dangerous missions because he wanted his no.1 fan to watch him in action. And also, wouldn't this make for a great childhood memory- watching your teacher absolutely demolish curses?

And yes, he has handed you a GoPro to record him as he beats up one curse after another.

Yandere Toji Fushiguro:

Usually after he returns from his long missions, you become clingy. Its reasonable, Toji understands that you haven't seen him in a long time and he honestly does feel guilty.

So obviously, he's gonna spoil you rotten on his time off. Be it by going to every amusement park and 7/11 in town, or just having a movie marathon with pizzas on the couch with you.

Toji's heart swells a bit everytime he drops you off to school, only for you to drag him by his hand and introduce him to your friends and teachers. He had later found out that some kids had been bullying you about not having a mother and that your father had also ran away from you. So whenever he came to school, he made sure to look extra good and flex his muscles in front of your friends (and low key scare them into not bullying you) and sweet talking your teachers so they'll give you special treatment.

When he has to leave again, his heart breaks when you beg him not to go. As much as Toji would like to haul you on his hip and kill curses and humans alike, that was only okay when you were a baby who couldn't remember stuff.

So he makes dozens of promises if returning soon and that he'll bring plenty of presents before leaving you crying and struggling in Megumi's arms.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

When you touch me, I am where love is born

Young!Mihawk x reader.

Prequel of the short series that began with Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart). Title taken from yet another song by Beast in Black, One night in Tokyo.

The man is attractive, if you like the burly type, with rough features and a full beard - which you occasionally do, even though you are slightly put off by the fact that your would-be victim, a former pirate who is now working solo as a robber, has killed twelve people, all of them but one defenseless civilians and including four children, to steal their valuables. Your grandfather, who put your first gun in your hand when you were only nine and taught you to use it, and a number of other firearms, to perfection, told you emotions are often a shooter's worst enemy, a cause of confusion and inaccuracy and worst of all hesitation, especially when the target you are shooting at has a weapon of their own; still, in your heart you feel satisfaction, even joy, and not guilt, at the thought that you will rid the world of this lowlife and protect his future potential victims.

Your target has no permanent residence and is notoriously proficient at putting pursuers off his tracks, but you were able to track down an accomplice of his who, for a small price, told you he would be in a certain island, on a particular day.

He is, and you are as well, having reached the island yesterday by ferry under the guise of a normal, innocuous tourist eager to enjoy the island's luxurious beaches and night-life. The truth couldn't be more different, and as you check for the twelfth time your gun is loaded and ready to shoot, you order yourself to keep your cool and stop your heart from beating twice as fast as normal. Yes, this is your first assignment as a mercenary; yes, you are still very young, and a woman, which would lead many of your fellow killers for hire to look down on you and doubt your ability; yes, you have never killed anyone before, which could make you hesitate once you will have to actually pull the trigger, not at a clay pigeon or another target prepared by your grandfather for your training, but at a living, real person.

But you can do it. You want to do it, because you have trained so much and so long for this, and that man does deserve to pay for what he has done, and you want to prove, to the world and more importantly to yourself, what you are worth, how strong and clever and resilient you are, beyond the family you were born in and the role you will take on one day. Your grandfather, an excellent gunslinger who had been a mercenary himself in his youth, expects you to put to good use everything he taught you and succeed, and your mother, while naturally worried for your safety, raised no objections and allowed you to begin a career as a killer for hire, knowing you felt the need to put yourself to the test beyond the comfortable, tranquil borders of your island. They both count on you, and you'd rather eat glass than disappoint them… and yourself, the harshest, least forgiving judge of all.

Also, if I don't kill that guy, he will probably kill me. That's also something I should keep in mind.

Having kept watch on the old barn, in the middle of the countryside, your target had spent the night in, you have seen him leave soon after dawn, the long sword he used to kill most of his victims as usual by his side, and set out towards an uninhabited corner of the island. You followed closely, careful not to lose him and, at the same time, not to be spotted, and three miles later you saw him reach an old abandoned mine; there is no sign of life for miles all around, which makes you suspect that, more than preparing an heist in a bank or a shop, or to attack an unsuspecting traveller to rob and then kill them, the man is meeting with an accomplice to organize an hit, or perhaps he has chosen the mine as his new hideout, to lay low for a while.

But all things being equal, the reason that has brought him here doesn't really matter; he might be looking for a safe place to store his stamp collection, or planning to transform the place in an ice cream shop for all you care. The only thing that counts is that you will kill him today, provide justice for all the people he has murdered, and begin making a name for yourself as a mercenary. You don't care about the bounty money, that you plan to donate to the less affluent families of your island (after, perhaps, you have treated yourself to a good dinner) and even becoming famous as a killer for hire is a side issue; you only want to do what is right, and prove yourself you are more than a privileged young woman, born with a silver spoon in her mouth and destined to a life of tranquility and power.

Even if it means risking your life.

Your target has reached the entrance of the mine, securely boarded up and surmounted by a large KEEP OUT sign; he walks back and forth, clearly nervous as he smokes a cigarette, fingering the hilt of his sword. Hidden in a small ramshackle building, perhaps the old foreman's office, no more than ten paces away, you look at him through a crack in the door, kneeling on the dirty floor; your heart is pounding, a feeling of tightness constricting your stomach, the hand grasping your gun (a good, reliable and lethal model; not the derringer you will one day receive as a gift from your father and that you will treasure for the rest of your days, but still perfectly up to the task) sweating. Despite all the time and effort you dedicated to prepare for this moment, you are a nervous wreck, which is not completely a bad thing, since the last thing you should do is underestimate the danger you are in. Your target is still alone, busy smoking and apparently unaware of your presence, but any moment you waste could be the one he decides to leave, or he is joined by someone else; after all he does look as if he is waiting for someone. You can't hesitate any longer.

You stand slowly, grimacing at the pain in your knees, retrieve a second gun from the bag you have left on the floor, to use should the first one jam, and slide it in the holster hanging from your waist; you have chosen comfortable clothing, for obvious reason, and soft-soled boots, that allow you to walk as noiselessly as possible… and, in turn, to make it harder for your target to hear you approach.

The man has turned his back to the shack, busy lighting another cigarette after the one he has just put out under his foot; it's your moment, you decide, and you waste no time in slipping out of the splintered door and take one step, and then another, towards him.

Years and even decades later, as the list of your victims grows longer and you get used to the tension and the danger your job entails, you will still remember this moment as clear and vivid as if it had taken place yesterday, down to the smallest detail. The glowing yellow-red of the sun barely raised above the horizon; the natural vegetation rustling in the gentle wind; the russet colour of the unsown earth under your feet; the expectant, charged silence broken only by the distant call of a carrion crow. You are only partially aware of your actions, your instinct and training taking over, as you take a third step, which brings you at maybe six from your target - more than close enough for a clean shot. Your gun is aimed, your finger already brushing against the trigger. You are about to talk, but the man, still turned the other way, anticipates you.

"I was waiting for you." he says, tense but calm, and the shock is almost enough to make the gun slip from your hand; you have been very careful to remain hidden, making sure he had no idea you were keeping a close eye on him, and you were absolutely sure you had succeeded, and would easily sneak up on your target. Apparently the truth is different… or at least so it seems for a moment, before the man finally turns, sees you, and goggles.

"What the… who the hell are you?!"

"I…"

"Where is Mihawk?" he insists, which is a question you have no answer for, but that at the same time is enough to dispel your doubts: he had no idea you were coming, and was actually waiting for someone else - perhaps an ally or an accomplice.

It takes your target half a second to notice the gun you are aiming at him. "What the…?!" he exclaims, letting his second cigarette fall to the floor and grabbing his sword.

It is already a full second to late.

"Jack 'The Tiger' Vespertine." you begin, mimicking the formal tone you heard your mother use so many times; you will decide to do away with the declaration of intents by your third assignment, like virtually all World Government-sanctioned mercenaries and killers for hire do, especially when the target is already aware of the danger they are in and armed, but since this is your first time you deem appropriate to follow the rules to the letter "You have been found guilty of twelve counts of murder…"

Vespertine's sword is drawn with a movement too fast for your eyes to follow, but thank all the Gods you are fast as well, and ready; a battle-cry fills the air, and half a second later, when the man has barely had the time to raise his blade above his head, your finger pulls the trigger, and the bullet explodes out of the gun's barrel, opening a hole in the middle of his forehead.

Vespertine is not an heavy man, but the thud of his body hitting the ground is deafening, the ground shaking under your feet. He doesn't move, and for a full minute you don't either; you stare at the body in front of you, your gun still pointed at him even though you know he is most likely already dead, as you push his sword away with your boot. You can't see his face, since he has fallen on his belly, so, for safety's sake, you shoot him again, in the back; the man doesn't move, which is proof enough for you.

Somewhere in the distance, the carrion crow cries again, a sound vaguely similar to an acid laugh; you glance all around you, making sure you are still alone and no one witnessed your actions, and then cautiously crouch down, using your free hand to turn the body on his back and look at it -at him- in the face.

This moment is the reason why you decided to do it like this. Up close, looking at him in the face and making sure he saw you and, within reason, knew you were going to kill him, instead of finding a safer way, hidden among the shrubs or from a moving vehicle or even at the third floor of a building, so that your target would have no way to know what was going to happen, and to defend himself. You had to let him know; not because you owed him (he was a killer, scum like that was entitled to nothing) but because you needed it.

"There is nothing wrong with aiming from a distance, and shooting at someone who doesn't expect it, at least if you're a mercenary and chasing a certain sort of people; in a fair duel, or when the person you are shooting at deserves to know what is going to happen to them, different rules apply." your grandfather told you one day, as you walked together in the fortress' gardens, at the end of yet another training session; he was an honourable man, your grandfather, but he was also smart and pragmatic, and he knew honour was something a person could not always afford to care for, and that when you didn't leave someone else to pay for your actions there was nothing wrong with running away to fight another day "We are not swordfighters; we don't duel for supremacy, for a grandiose title or so that everyone in the world knows our name. The gun is a weapon; if you want to kill someone, use it and it will do its work. It's not your friend, or a talisman that endows you with some arcane power; it is a tool that you need to learn to use, otherwise you will be the one getting hurt. It is a bloody business, a raw and practical one, devoid of heroics and ethics, but it can protect you and help you make your way in the world. It all depends on you. Just..."

"Just?"

Your grandfather had stopped, contemplating the rose bushes your mother tended to personally, and that ran all around a tiny plot of grass, where your family had enjoyed so many outdoor breakfasts.

"What I'm trying to say is that using firearms, especially for a deadly purpose like you mean to, is something you mustn't take lightly." he continued as he looked at you; he loved you dearly, but in that moment there was sternness in him, as if he were warning you against a terrible danger, or a grave crime you were about to commit. You liked it; he was the first person to treat you like an adult, years before you could even vaguely call yourself that "It... goes to your head; the power to kill with a simple press of your finger can make even the most rational and moderate person feel all-powerful. And the risk of forgetting it is people you are shooting at and killing, not clay pigeons or game to serve at dinner, is high."

You looked at him; he was probably the person you loved the most in the world behind your mother, and he was wiser than even her. You trusted him completely, and you knew he only wanted what was best for you; had he said bathing every day in olive oil would make you immortal, you would have believed him.

"And you think this could happen to me?" you asked, afraid of hearing his answer; evening was approaching, flames of red and purple painting the darkening sky above your heads "I... I don't want it to, grandfather; I only want to kill bad people, like you did. I don't want to become bad myself."

Suddenly he smiled, as he took your hand in his like he did when you were still so young you needed to be guided as you walked. "I have faith in you, (name); I know there is no kinder girl in all the four seas, and I am sure you will one day rule over our island with justice and mercy." he told you "But if you really want to become a gunslinger... you have to promise me something: when you kill a man, you have to look at him in the eyes; not necessarily before, as I told you, but at least after. Take responsibility for what you have done, and face the consequence of your actions. Especially the first time."

A sudden gust of wind passed over you; the evening was warm, but you suddenly felt chilled.

"Promise me, (name)."

"I promise, grandfather. I will do as you said."

And you do, contemplating the body of the man in front of you, now truly alone in that isolated corner of the world. You feel no guilt; rather, you are proud of yourself, and you know your grandfather will be as well, when you'll call home to reassure him and your mother you are all right. You have proved yourself, punished a vicious murderer, and given justice to his victims. All in all, a good day... even though you do feel a bit upset, even if you couldn't exactly say why.

You can't tear your eyes away from Vespertine -or rather, from his mortal remains- even longer than what your grandfather would deem necessary. The bullet you have killed him with went right through his cranium, but the hole it created is no bigger than a bean at the centre of his forehead, and his face is still perfectly recognizable... which is good, since you wouldn't be able to collect the bounty if you can't prove you killed the right man. You saw another body once, an inexperienced guard on your island, who had shot himself in the face with his service pistol as he cleaned it, and the bullet had completely erased his features, so much that even his parents couldn't formally recognize him...

Vespertine's old bounty poster, from the time he was still part of his old pirate crew, is folded in the inside pocket of your jacket; you take it out, open it, observe it carefully comparing the man in the picture with the one lying on the ground in front of you, and finally sigh, relieved. You had already checked it for the third time twenty minutes ago, as you waited for the right moment in the foreman's office, to make sure you had actually found the right man and were not about to kill an innocent who simply resembled him, but this is obviously the first time you can examine him up close and yes, this is undoubtedly Vespertine himself. You killed him... but your work is not over yet.

Still, you can't stop looking at him. His eyes, of the same colour of your mother's, are still open, a single drop of blood that slid down from the wound leaving a tiny blood trail along the side of his nose. He had had time to realize you were attempting to kill him, but his expression betrays neither fear, nor rage, nor the pain he must have felt as he died; rather, he seems... surprised, as if he really hadn't expected to see you, to be attacked, and that that quiet, still morning would be the last of his life.

I'm doing it, grandfather, you think; you will make sure to tell him in person once you're back home, to let him know you haven't forgotten what he had taught you, but for now, mentally addressing him is the best you can do. Just like you told me to. And now I know what you meant; I feel exactly as you thought I would. I killed him; and all it took was pulling a trigger. He wasn't a good man, and he deserved this and even more. But still... But still...

It is sudden and violent, like a punch (or a bullet) to the stomach; the bounty poster falls from your fingers, and you fall to your knees, your legs unable to support you. Your head swims; your heart beats fast enough to hurt; cold sweat covers your back, your arms, your whole body...

A disgusting sound (bleeeaarrggghh) escapes your lips, followed by everything you had eaten in the last twelve hours.

*****

You start feeling a little better fifteen minutes later, and thank all the Gods you have water and paper towels in your bag, which allows you to clean yourself at least a little bit.

After a brief rest, you get to work, retrieving other tools from your bag: a knife, a sturdy sack, the sort you use to store grain or flour, and a tinderbox. You bit your lip, ordering yourself not to feel sick again, as you cut Vespertine's head, sawing through skin and tendons and bone and separating it from his body; consequently, you put it in the sack. Collecting wood takes you only a few minutes, since the countryside abounds with fallen branches and twigs; lighting a fire is equally easy, since you have been taught to use flint and steel since you were a little girl. Dragging your victim's body over the (still unlit) pyre is the hardest part, since he must be twice as heavy as you, but in the end you succeed, and soon Vespertine's remains are burning and then reduced to ashes, leaving no trace of his passing that an eventual friend or ally could trace back to you. Unsure of what to do with it, you finally bury the man's sword near the entrance of the mine, digging with your bare hands since you don't have a shovel at hand and making sure it cannot be found.

You then place the sack containing your victim's head in your bag; the idea of carrying that thing around is more than a little disgusting, but doing the same with the entire body would be much more tiring, and your grandfather said it will be more than enough to claim the bounty, since a severed head is clear proof of a person's death.

Soon after, you set off. You haven't lowered your guard yet, in case Vespertine hadn't come alone or had friends and allies nearby, not to mention that watching your back will now have to become the norm, but you feel relieved you have completed your task, and you can't wait to reward yourself with a good meal, cash the bounty and return home to tell your mother and grandfather about your first success as a mercenary.

You have started whistling a popular song of your island, the warmth of the blooming day kissing your skin, when suddenly you are not alone on the road anymore; a tall man is walking purposefully towards you, and towards the mine... a man with a large sword hanging from his belt.

Shit. Vespertine did say he was expecting someone, and while you cannot be sure this guy is (was) a friend of your victim and would want to avenge his death, the best, safest thing you can do is to get away as quickly as you can, before he realizes what has happened and that you must be responsible for it. Is it cowardly? Perhaps - no, it surely is, and your grandfather did tell you the honourable man is very often the dead man as well, and you are a mercenary, not a warrior, you are not bound by a code of conduct and it would be very stupid to risk your life when you have nothing to gain from it, but...

But...

"Excuse me." you call to the man who has by now walked five or six steps behind you, turning to look at him and thinking back to your brief conversation with Vespertine "Is your name... Mihawk?"

The man turns, clearly surprised to hear a stranger mention his name. He is very tall, slim but strong, dark-haired, practically but elegantly dressed.

"Do I know you?" he asks after a moment he has spent observing you.

"No, but perhaps we have a mutual acquaintance. Did you know Jack "The Tiger" Vespertine? Were you meant to meet him today?"

You grimace, realizing you have used the past tense when this man -Mihawk- still has no idea Vespertine is dead. This is probably the stupidest, most dangerous thing you have ever done, a leap in the dark, because your gun is still charged and nothing would stop you from at least trying to kill your second swordsman of the day, but you could simply keep walking, and he would have no way to know what has happened, since there is no trace of Vespertine's remains and by the time Mihawk may suspect he had been killed, you would be long gone.

Still. Something in your heart tells you you are doing the right thing, because you are not a coward, and because this man will not prove to be a danger for you. You don't know why, but you are sure.

"Is he a friend of yours?"

Mihawk brings his arms to his chest; he is still staring, and there is something in his gaze that makes you squirm - in his gaze, or perhaps in his eyes, which are of a very unusual colour...

"Why should I tell you?" he asks in the end.

"No reason, actually." you admit "It's just... well, I hope you were not close friends, or related, because he is dead."

Silence. You tense, ready for whatever his reaction will be, but the man lets his arms fall to his sides, without touching his sword - a good blade, he will tell you in time, but still largely inferior to Yoru, that will not come into his possession for a few years still.

"You killed him?"

"I did. Less than an hour ago, at the mine he was waiting for you at."

"Are you a pirate?"

No, just the daughter of one, you are for a moment about to answer, before quickly stopping yourself. You have been sworn to silence regarding the identity of your father, for the safety of your family and your own, and you have never been tempted to break that promise until now. What is happening to you?, you wonder, feeling strangely numbed all of a sudden, why do you instinctively feel able, or even eager, to share your secrets with a man you had never met before...?

(You will understand it; in time. And you will be happy of it.)

"No; I'm a mercenary working for the World Government." you answer in the end, trying to pull yourself together; it is technically not the truth, at least until you cash your first bounty, but the Marines do have a number of killers for hire on call, and who knows, perhaps one day you will be part of that selected circle... "Vespertine left a long list of victims behind him, there is a bounty on his head."

"I see."

You wait for him to elaborate, to express rage or regret or joy at the news of Vespertine's death, but Mihawk is clearly not the loquacious sort, because he keeps his emotions for himself, and "Thanks for telling me." he simply says.

"No problem. Why was he waiting for you?" you ask again, cocking your head; you have no idea of how dangerous he is, even now that he is little more than a boy, but even if you knew, you wouldn't be deterred. You are curious... and fascinated, somehow, by this stern and hermetic young man.

Mihawk looks at you, clearly disapproving of your curiosity, but in the end he sighs, and finally gives you the explanation you wanted. "We were meant to duel, Vespertine and I. He had challenged me a month ago, and we were meant to meet this morning at the mine. I... am running late, unfortunately, because the ship I took to reach this island clashed against a larger one and for a while it seemed it would go under."

"Oh, that's... scary."

He shrugs, clearly unconcerned. "I would have managed, I am a capable swimmer. I was just afraid Vespertine thought I had decided not to meet him because I was afraid."

"He... was a capable swordsman?" you ask again, still eager to learn more; the only bladed weapon you have ever handled is the knife you use at the table and, now, the larger one you took with you from home to separate your victim's head from his body, but you have always been fascinated by the world of the swordfighters, bound by a strict code of behaviour, who often have to prove themselves before a more experienced fighter accepts to train them and among whom most serious duels end with the death of one of the two opponents. For them, the weapon is not a tool, of defense and offense; it is... an art. A cult, almost.

"Above average, from what I saw, which is not saying much. But he had challenged me, and refusing would have been a stain upon my honour."

Just like you expected. "I see. Well." you add, suddenly embarrassed "I'm sorry I took your opponent away from you."

Mihawk shrugs, marginally more inclined to chat. "If he let you kill him, it means he wasn't a worthy opponent." he reasons; he has no facial hair, but his sideburns are long and neatly trimmed, and while already tall he's still a few inches away from his full stature "I should thank you for saving me a futile effort."

You cock your head, an eyebrow raised. "Are you saying I am less capable a markswoman than you are a swordsman?" you inquire; you don't care if Mihawk will propose to see for yourselves and challenge you, forgotten is the guilt you felt for ruining his morning. Who the hell this smart-ass thinks he is, especially considering you must be the same age? You don't care how actually powerful he is, you wouldn't even care if he were the world's strongest swordsman, no one can insult you and get away with it "Is it because I am a woman? Or because I use a gun and not a sword?"

"No, I..."

"I'll have you know I've been trained by one of the most capable former mercenaries of the four seas, and that Vespertine didn't even have the time to attack me before I put a bullet through his head."

"I'm sure you are more than capable." Mihawk says, clearly aiming to pacify you but, fortunately, without sounding patronizing "Forgive me; I meant no disrespect."

He seems sincere - he is, he will confess to you years later, and deeply embarrassed for the gaffe he just made; it is rare for him to admit he had erred... but, he will confide you with the shadow of a smile, he is happy those words didn't make you hate him, then and in the years to come. Because of this you decide to forgive him, and

"If you want we can split the bounty." you propose, feeling generous; you intended to donate the money to someone who needed it on your island, but you can take another assignment soon "Or, you know, there is Verspertine's sword, I can tell you where I buried it..."

Mihawk shakes his head. "I can only take another swordsman's blade if I am the one who bested them; in any case, I doubt a man like Vespertine owned a blade I could be interested in." he points out "And I don't need compensation; you killed him, you deserve to keep the money. Well, I... I suppose I should go back."

"Right..."

Silently, you both set off once more, walking side by side along the only path towards the nearest village. You are still on edge, both happy for your first success and shaken by the fact that you have, after all, just killed a man, but soon you find yourself focusing on something else... namely, on the young man walking next to you. He is undoubtedly handsome, but it's something else that piques your curiosity... a depth, and complexity, unusual for one so young, and that you can perceive behind his apparently impassible façade.

"So." you begin conversationally after a while; you have almost a mile to walk to the village, and maybe chatting will make you reach your destination faster "Are you any good with that sword?"

Mihawk grunts, the tiniest hint of amusement in his voice. "I like to think I am more than good."

"Really? Are you famous?"

"I am... becoming famous. This is why Vespertine wanted to duel me."

"And you think you would have beaten him?"

"I know I would have."

He speaks matter-of-factly, as if describing an undeniable truth and without the slightest hint of arrogance or overconfidence; you usually appreciate humility, and you have no way to know whether he is as good as he thinks he is, but you like the self-assurance he carries himself with.

"So this is what you do? Go around, duel other swordsmen so that you make a name for yourself as a powerful fighter?"

"I do." Mihawk easily acknowledges "When I'm not too busy fighting the Marines and looking for a loot or another."

"You're a pirate."

"I am. A wanted one, in case you were thinking of claiming my bounty as well."

You smile, aware you are both involved in a game whose rules are still undecided. "Is that a challenge?" you inquire, and Mihawk shrugs, looking straight in front of him.

"If you want to consider it as such."

"I see. Luckily for you, I intend to cash Vespertine's bounty before looking for another assignment, so I will not challenge you today."

"Luckily for me..."

Silence falls between you, an unexpectedly companionable one considering you have known each other only for a few minutes. As you glance sideways at Mihawk, you can't help noticing his eyes, yellow like the ones of a hawk; you have never seen anything of the sort, but there is beauty in his gaze.

"What about you?" Mihawk asks "What has brought you to become a mercenary?"

"Are you surprised?"

"Women are a minority in the trade, those as young as you even more so. You are wearing clothes of good quality, which means you are probably not doing it for the money. Am I right?"

"You are."

Mihawk grins. "As I thought. So what? Are you following in a relative's footsteps? Or were you simply bored?"

"Both things, in a sense." you admit, walking leisurely along the mud-smeared path; the fact that a virtual stranger is able to read you so easily should upset you, but it doesn't, maybe because you can perceive Mihawk poses no danger to you, or maybe not "I... simply needed to test myself. Growing up, I never had to worry about money, or fear for my safety; I'm not saying I was spoiled, or that I spend my days idling without duties and responsibilities, but I feared letting things go like they were meant to, I would become indolent, content with what I had but unable to aim higher. I never needed to prove I was strong, and clever, and capable of taking care of myself; but I wanted to make sure I was anyway."

You are not sure your reasoning makes sense, especially to someone who barely knows you, but Mihawk nods in understanding - in approval, even. "That was brave of you. And clever."

"I just wanted to do what I thought was right."

Twenty minutes of sporadic but pleasant conversation later, you have reached the village, actually little more than a handful of houses and little shops and a tiny harbour, connected by a regular ferry service to a larger island from where you can easily catch another boat to return home. Perhaps, you reflect, you should think about buying a small ship of your own; experienced sailors are not lacking on your island, and you could ask someone to teach you...

"You want to join me for a meal?" you propose as you walk past a tavern; you know you and Mihawk are destined to part soon anyway and will probably never meet again, but he is the most interesting person you have met in a long while, and you like talking to him "After all it's breakfast time..."

Mihawk hesitates for a moment, taken aback by your offer. "I'd... like that." he answers, and you could swear that surprises him as well "But I need to depart soon."

"I see. Well..."

You are both standing in the village's tiny, almost empty square. This is good-bye, then, you're about to say, but impulsively you step closer to the man in front of you, who tenses. "What...?"

"Your eyes." you murmur without realizing. You were right, they are yellow, their gaze piercing and deep, intense albeit not necessarily cruel "They are... beautiful."

"... you think?"

"Of course; I had never seen anyone with eyes like yours! They make you look like a bird of prey. Like an hawk."

Something in your words makes the man in front of you smile; he is flattered, and still not as good at hiding his emotions as he will be in twenty years. "I've been told that before."

"Is it hereditary? Do you have a particularly sharp vision or...?"

"I... don't think so; no one I have ever met has them, and I see normally."

"Amazing..."

Silence again; you face each other, both still so young, full of dreams and ambition, unaware of what the future has in store for you - individually and not. Neither has any idea you will meet again, and how your relationship will change and grow, but in that moment, both of you are sure, a sort of quiet, clear certitude: you will remember that brief encounter forever.

In the end Mihawk takes a step back, both literally and metaphorically. "I should go." he softly points out nodding in the direction of the village's harbour "So... good-bye."

"Good-bye, Mihawk." you answer, intimately saddened for reasons you can't fully explain even to yourself; it is not like you to get attached to people you barely know, but there is something interesting in this young swordsman, something special, and you wouldn't mind having the time to discover exactly what...

A nod, the hint of a smile, and he's walking away. You look at his retreating figure for a minute, his dark hair gently swaying in the breeze, his hand elegantly resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Maybe one day we'll meet again." you call out to him, making Mihawk turn "Maybe I'll be asked to bring you in to the Marines."

He smiles; once again, amused, but not patronizing. "I look forward to it." he answers, raising an hand in farewell "What is your name?"

"It's (name). (full name)."

"I'll be seeing you then, (full name)."

A minute later he has disappeared, hidden by the buildings across the square. You smile to yourself; something tells you Mihawk is destined to make a name for himself, as a pirate and even more as a swordsman, and you can only hope that, by your next meeting, you will have done the same.

Still, that could take years, and in the meantime you have a couple of more pressing matters to attend to: breakfast, since your stomach has started growling, and calling both your family, to let her know you're all right, and the Marines.

You decide to take care of that first, to get it over with. You glance once more at the tavern, hoping the coffee they offer is better than the one you drank on the ferry, retrieve your transponder snail from a side pocket of your bag, and dial the number you had learnt by heart before setting off from home. You could technically cash Vespertine's bounty in any Marine base of the world, but you decided to do it at their HQ, especially since it's your first time; you hope it will be easier to get noticed, and make a name for yourself as a capable mercenary.

"Good morning. Who do I have to talk to in order to claim a bounty? Vice-Admiral Garp? Yes, put me through to him, please..."

[railingsofsorrow]

Late Night Talking

[spencer reid x reader]

[SONG INSPIRATION » LATE NIGHT TALKING by harry styles]

summary: Your body language was too familiar for him to erase. And he wouldn't be able to do it if he tried. Eidetic memory and all.

“Have you ever been scared of the future?”

“Multiple times.”

“What made you move on?”

“I haven't.”

pairing: s.reid x fem!bi!reader

w.c: 4.5K

warnings/content: exes with feelings trope (and maybe eventually lovers again); angst; yearning; tw!mentions of anxiety, tw!depression, tw!PTSD; reminiscing past relationships; insecurities; fear of being left alone; taking things into perspective; late night conversations in the park; reader has/had someone but the name is never mentioned, just a pronoun; conversations about breakups; an argument; open ending.

[ part of the “harry styles anthology” ]

A/N: this was supposed to be for a writing challenge but I missed the deadline so here it is anyway. through this one shot is how I introduce the harry styles anthology.

A/N²: it will probably be a multichapter song series but I'm not sure yet. hope you enjoy it, I spent some time on this lol.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.”

[ billy-ray belcourt, a history of my brief body ]

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Something had shifted in you that week.

At first, Spencer thought it was the last case. The team had spent four days straight searching for the suspect and the outcome wasn't successful. The scenes were still gripped onto his brain — that's the bad part about having an eidetic memory, he could never forget anything.

It might have been that, but your far-away gaze and the constant biting into your nails told him that wasn't the only reason. Spencer didn't need to profile you to acknowledge when you were distressed about something. You had a tell: the avoidance when looking in someone's eyes; scratching your left eyebrow repeatedly. Many other things as well, sometimes he just had to hear you breathe a certain way and he'd know.

Your body language was too familiar for him to erase. And he wouldn't be able to do it if he tried. Eidetic memory and all.

There was a certain melancholy wavering in your eyes. He could see it so clearly and he wondered if Penelope did it too and that's the reason she kept on insisting that you'd go hang out with all of them. Have shots, dance a little, let loose.

Spencer recognised her intentions but he also saw the will to just take off in your retracting step.

He approached the two of you slowly.

“We'll meet you there.” He said to her, giving you a glance at the corner of his eye. No one would have noticed it right away, maybe if they were paying attention to him closely. It was quick, so quick you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't looking for a way out and he appeared just at the right moment. He saw your throat move as you swallowed hard, knuckles tight as you held onto the strap of your bag. Your shoulders relaxing slightly in his presence.

“Oh,” the blonde blinked, gaze traveling from you to Spencer as if she knew something you didn't. “Okay. We'll see you there then.”

It didn't go unnoticed by him the way multiple pairs of eyes followed you two as you walked out of the Bureau. Spencer chose to ignore their noisy behavior and focus on your shaky hands and fast steps.

He called out your name with apprehension, causing you to spin around to face him. Folding your arms across your chest, your demeanor switched from nervous to a more comfortable one. "Sorry, I just— I don't really feel like going out tonight."

"You don't have to justify yourself to me," He gave you a soft smile. "Do you want to talk?"

It wasn't like before — the two of you. Does anything ever stay the same? His life proved him the answer was no. Your relationship changed a lot after your break-up; it was bound to. You went from spending entire days together, living in the same apartment, to not facing each other at work because it was too painful. It wasn't until a few months ago that he and you started to get closer again, rekindling your friendship.

Spencer didn't think he could bear not having you in his life at all, he'd rather you be there despite the distance.

"You can go, Reid," You said softly. "Thank you for getting me out of that but you don't have to stay."

"I don't really feel like going out either." He shrugged, burying his hands in his pockets. You huffed out a laugh and something in his chest burst.

"You used me to free yourself from a night-out, Doc?" His widened eyes reminded you of a puppy. "I'm joking." You said with a mild smile before he could start apologizing frantically. You knew that look and you knew what came right after.

Spencer was your rock at some point. You've relied on him more ways than you could count. That would've been fine if you didn't go overboard with it. In your worst times, Spencer was there. He helped you stand up, to be yourself. But once you crawled down a rabbit hole of nothingness, there was no anchor that would be able to hold you back to the shore. And you almost dragged him down with you. Before that happened, you pushed him away. That was the hardest thing you had to do.

“If you don't want to talk, can I at least drive you home?”

That's how you ended up on the passenger side of your car, the street lights flashing before your eyes as the car moved on to the avenue. The trees were all but a blur, except for when you looked close enough. They'd slow down with you, almost as if time had freezed.

“There's some Mozart in there.” You referred to the car radio while leaning back and shutting your eyes. You didn't feel like crying anymore, just plainly sad. You wanted to hear his voice, you wanted him to ramble about statistics concerning snakes or geometry, you didn't care. “Spencer.”

“Mhm?”

“Have you ever been scared of the future?”

You felt the car stop, when you flutter your eyelids open, the red light reflected upon the windshield.

“Multiple times.”

“What made you move on?”

“I haven't.” He said quietly, staring at your keychain. It was still the same little howling wolf attached to the moon. He had gifted that to you on your fifth date when you visited the Planetarium. You loved Astronomy so he thought it would be the perfect place to take you. The keychain has been attached to your car keys since that night, among other things that remained exactly the same, not exactly in the physical aspect. “I'm just not scared at this particular moment.” He stole a glance at you, caught off guard when he saw you already staring back.

Your lips twitched, “Me neither.” The green light flickered on and he turned the street. The distance from your apartment wasn't that far from Quantico, twenty-five minutes at most. Now you just wished the time didn't pass at all. “Can you turn left here?”

The car slowed down.

“You want to go to the park?”

You nod, preparing to hop off. “You can just drop me off and head home.” That park was a five minute walk to your place, you didn't need your car to get home anyway and you'd be fine taking the subway tomorrow.

He didn't mind your words, as soon as the engine halted, he waited for you to step out before trailing after you.

His stubbornness wasn't strange to you but you still quirked a brow at it.

That swing hadn't moved since the day you moved into Montclair. The whole park grew to have more slides, a brand new seesaw, and a makeshift maze for kids. Fortunately, the swing remained.

“I'm gonna push you.” Spencer said, standing from his swing to walk behind yours. You snickered, tilting your head back to stare at his overexcited expression. “I won't do it too harshly.”

His careful tone made you feel like a little kid back at elementary school.

That had been your third date, you had invited him to meet your place. You watched an entire season of Doctor Who and he slept over. That's all you ever did, really. And talk the whole night, sharing stupid jokes and deep secrets. The weekend was spent with you showing Spencer all of your favorite spots in the neighborhood.

“You can see Ursa Minor so clearly from here.”

“Draco and Cepheus are right there too.” You mumbled, leaning your cheek on the cold swing chain, attention uplifting to the sky.

“Did you know that despite containing third and fourth magnitude stars Cepheus has no Messier objects? And no meteor showers associated with it as well.”

With your eyelashes fluttering lazily, a warm feeling stretched over your chest. These were the effects of Spencer's presence, whenever you were around him your mind would rest with none of that spiraling it was doing an hour ago. Indulging in his topic, he rambled about constellations for a while before the pitch of his voice lowered to a soft tone upon seeing your eyes fluttered shut.

“I should get you home. You need to sleep.”

“I slept alright at the hotel.”

“I saw you walking around at 1 a.m,” Spencer shakes his head. “Your eyes were dropping on our way back, you are barely standing awake.”

“Thanks for the compliment, handsome. I feel the love.”

He chose to ignore the mocked flattering. “I can stay over until you fall asleep.”

Tempting offer. And an unfair one, too. To him, that is. Spencer made you feel safe, he made you feel grounded and level headed. That never changed. But things weren't like they used to be and you weren't about to ask him to stay over because you were a coward. Figuratively and literally speaking.

“I'm fine, Spencer.” You are too good for your own good.

The moonlight created a curtain against your features, your eyelashes shadowing your cheeks and the tip of your nose. You looked both peaceful and exhausted. He was only trying to help but you were too stubborn.

“I don't think I'm able to make someone happy.”

Spencer isn't foreign to late night confessions. He's done it himself. Our body's melatonin increases during the night which connects with the less light input to the SCN – area of the suprachiasmatic nucleus. To put it simply, our system is put to sleep mode, alerting us that we need to rest because the day is coming to an end. Our thoughts are slightly fuzzy and we don't retain much control of our actions. That's why people do stupid things at nighttime; well, one of the reasons, he cannot vouch for every single person and what happens in their brains.

That also relates to intrusive thoughts, they tend to come in as we're setting in to sleep, creeping up on the vulnerable hour.

You've shared a lot with each other. You have confided in him some of your darkest thoughts, as he has. He knows things about you that nobody else does and vice-versa. However, he had never heard you say that before.

“There's a lot to love about you.” The conviction in his tone made you cast him a careful look. He couldn't be that sure, could he? Not anymore.

“You've dated me, you're inclined to agree with me on this,” you said, nudging his arm playfully. He could see past that façade like a blink of an eye.

“That doesn't make sense.” His brows furrowed as he turned to you. “You've always been kind and strong and passionate about anything you do. Including loving somebody. You've stood by me when I couldn't stand by myself and you never once left. Even if you should have.”

You blink up at him in shock, slightly more aware of your surroundings. "Reid," But he cuts you off before you can say anything else.

“... And it's not only about the things you did but how when you enter a room, everything lights up,” his eyes soften and the edge of his lips barely quirk up. “I know that was a cliche thing to say, but that's all I could think whenever you would come in every morning. You make everyone's days better by just being there. By being you. So don't say you're not able to make someone happy. Because you make me happy even after—” his voice trails off. He doesn't face you but you can see the way his gaze drifts unfocused to his feet. His mind taking him back. And you are taken back, too.

It's no news that your line of work is heavy. Each casefile weighs on your hands as it does in your heart. But it's your job and you've been doing this for years, you're used to it.

Wrong. You never get used to it. And some days you can't go back to yourself as easily. So you push people away. You ended up pushing him away too.

“I'm just tired of fighting.” You state, tiredly running a hand through your face.

Spencer tosses his go-bag on the loveseat, loosening his tie with a frown. “We don't fight." He says shortly. "You're never here, how could we fight? You're never here at all. We barely hold a conversation.”

You visibly flinch, “Spencer, that's not true.”

“It is. And you know it is. You've been delaying this for three months. I can't just carry on like that, you have to speak to me. Just— just speak to me. please? I'm right here.” His frustration is thrown out the window when he finally looks at you. You had a forlornness expression on your features and he wanted more than anything to drive it away.

“I'm not." You let out in a breath. "I don't know where I am, Spencer.”

“Let me help finding you." He begged, taking one of your hands on his. There was something irrevocably broken within you two. He could feel it. "I can do it. You just have to let me be there.”

“I can't. I can't do it. I'm sorry.”

Just like that, it was over. You took a leave of absence from work and disappeared out of the radar for about two months. It was outlandish staying away from your routine, you missed the mess and your people every single day. You missed Spencer more than your heart could take. When you came back, you felt as if you could breathe once again. This time, you didn't choke on the truth or felt as if darkness was swallowing you. Maybe you just needed some time to find yourself.

Now, you were losing that again.

“She asked me to go to France with her.”

Spencer turned to you, head tilting forward so the chains didn't get in the way of his line of sight. He knew whom the her referred to in the sentence. You had started dating someone recently. Spencer knew who she was because she acted as a consultant in a case a long time ago. He'd occasionally see her around the department, Penelope was her friend and you were her girlfriend, it wasn't that unusual.

He watched you fall in love again. Move on. But you stayed friends so that's what mattered to him. He'd rather have you platonically than lose you forever. You walked into his life and took a piece of his heart without asking, he couldn't handle being away from you permanently.

Was that about to happen? Were you going to France to live a new life and leave it all behind?

“And what did you say?” He kicked a rock, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Silence overflows in your conversation, helping Spencer's anxiety to spike up.

“What am I supposed to do in France being completely ignorant with French, Reid.” You said, giving him a half laugh as you swayed on the swing. He opened his mouth and closed it twice, confusion causing his forehead to curl in the middle.

“English might not be widely spoken in France, but approximately 57% of the French population speaks it to a conversational level.” He pauses. “You would get by alright.” He mumbles quietly, drawing an uneven circle form on the sand with his shoe. It didn't even make sense that you'd decline that opportunity because your French wasn't good.

“Spencer.”

“Mhm?”

He didn't look at you, too busy paying attention on the ground like a toddler who's lost his toy. Rolling your eyes, you pushed his swing harshly to the side, gaining a height-pitched yelp. A full belly laugh blossomed out of you.

“This is bullying.” He remarks, narrowing his eyes at you as his swing stabilized. The corner of his lips betrayed him almost immediately.

Your eyes acquire a spark of amusement. “I'm not going, Spencer,” you said. “It was never my plan to leave here. Not for good, at least.”

“So, you're staying?”

“Yes.”

You waited for the question but he never said it, so you carried on. “We broke up.”

“Oh,” he breathed out. A sudden urge to hold you ignited in him. “How are you?”

“I'm okay.” You offered him a soft smile. It's not like you weren't affected by the break-up, you just enjoyed it while it lasted. And though you never reached the stage of falling in love, it was good. It just made you think that as another cycle came to an end, you were stuck in a limbo. Were you capable of making someone happy? Or did you only leave bad memories through someone else's life? Were you their bad part? The one they'd rather not remember?

There's a lot to love about you.

“I'm sorry that I hurt you.”

Spencer glanced at you, stunned.

“Why would you—”

You interrupt him with a shake of your head, “No, Spencer. I've never— We've never talked about it. But I need you to know that falling out of love wasn't the reason why I ended things between us.” His gaze was attentive and you bit your lip before you let out the next words. “I was hurting and I needed to heal on my own. I know that I had you, I know that. But I didn't want to drag you down with me. What if—What if I made it worse? What if I just destroyed that idea you had of me because I couldn't pick myself up?” You huffed out a shaky breath. That wasn't an easy topic. It had never been. “I'm sorry. The truth is that I didn't want you to see me the way I saw myself. It would... wreck me. That and— I was needing you to simply breathe. You were the only thing that kept me going, I couldn't just put that weight on you, it wasn't fair.”

You heard your name being said in a plea but you carried on. You had to get it all out before you regret it.

“... the day I let you go was the hardest day of my life. But it was necessary.” You paused, your eyes had that familiar stinging sensation. “I'm sorry, Spencer. I know you blame yourself, but it was really all my fault.”

“I know why you did it.”

You locked your gaze to his, eyes widening in bewilderment “What?” you asked, voice failing slightly. Of all the things you expected to hear, those words weren't one of them.

Spencer lined up his shoes on the sand, his forehead twitching before he started speaking.

“I know why you— why we broke up.” He needed to correct himself because even though you were the one responsible to call it quits, he was just as responsible for letting you go. “I saw the signs, you know? They were written in neon lights to me but I didn't know what to do so I just had to—” he let out a sigh, feeling guilty at what he was about to say. But he had to say it, it's been so long and he has that bottled up for such a long time. “You didn't let me be there. I knew you were struggling and I could see you weren't being yourself but you just left while being right there.”

You stayed quiet, you've been waiting to hear his words on this. That conversation should have happened a long time ago.

“What I'm trying to say is that, it hurt. I didn't wait for it to happen—I never wanted it to happen,” he finally glanced up at you. “... but I know why it happened and I don't blame you for it, I need you to understand that.”

Your face morphed into puzzlement, “Spencer, how can you not blame me?”

“You needed space.” Those were your exact words that night and he knew the meaning behind them. “And I know what it feels like to feel suffocated by love when you can't give it back at that moment. The guilt and the shame; I know those.”

Suddenly, it was like you were staring at the Spencer from all those nights ago. The one to whom you told you needed to go, the one who you could barely stand to face some days because it was too much in your head, the one who asked you to stay but told you he would always be there when you chose to go.

Here's the thing: that Spencer never disappeared. He was still very present in the person you were looking at, still kind, still endearing, just a different haircut. He was still the same Spencer Reid you've always known.

“I loved you,” you blurted out, feeling your throat tightening. “You know that, don't you?”

He gave you a sad smile, “I do.”

“I didn't want to go.” A tear trailed down your cheek and you quickly wiped it with the back of your hand. There's way more to come but you could hold it off for a little. “But I had to. I needed to do that by myself.”

“I know.”

“I never stopped loving you, Spencer.” You croaked out, sniffling as more tears started to come out. You didn't have control anymore. But that was Spencer. He had seen you cry thousands of times before. “It was just so hard—”

“I know,” he said softly, half desperate to tuck you into his arms and tell you it would be okay and half suffering because he knew that feeling all too well and it was so painful to bring that topic back. It was so raw. “It's okay.” Because it was. He was seeing you wipe away your tears harshly when you didn't have to do that. It was okay to cry in front of him, it was okay to let it go. “Please, don't do that,” he requested kindly. That's when you felt a warm touch pulling at your wrists softly to stop you from covering your face. The scene in front of you would be comical if you weren't so sad.

Spencer held your hands on his chest with one of his as the other worked on drying off your damp cheeks. He was kneeling on the sand not caring how he would get up without cracking his limbs apart or how his pants would get dirty. A concerned look dancing on his features.

“Sorry,” you croaked out, closing your eyes as he dried your tears with his soft touch. “It's just been a hard day.”

“Yeah,” his fingers lingered on your cheek before he withdrew it while clearing his throat. “It's okay, you don't have to apologize. But I need you to trust me on this, alright? When I say that don't blame you, i mean it.” Your gaze drifted through his features quietly, you were searching for that hitch of hesitation, the twitch that revealed a lie; but you found none. Lifting a hand to touch his cheek was a gesture of surprise to both of you and you retracted it before your fingers could graze him. Spencer kept staring at you as if there was something he couldn't figure out.

“You're supposed to be mad at me.” You cleared your throat, looking down at your hands.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because you're here cleaning my tears, when you would have enjoyed your night with everyone else.”

Spencer gave you a tilt of head, “Why do you keep insisting that I'd rather be anywhere else?”

With a roll of eyes, you held back the will to groan loudly. He stood up, protesting softly causing your lips to curl up in amusement. “That hasn't changed.” You mentioned his knee and it was his turn to give you an eye roll.

“Glad you're having fun,” he said. “Get up, I'm taking you home.”

You shook your head, standing up from the swing, not at all protesting like he did. “You can take my car.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Go home, Spence.” His eyes softened at the nickname, one he hadn't heard in your voice for a long time. “It's not even a five minute walk from here to my apartment. And I'm not going to let you take the subway at this hour.” You said with finality in your tone. “Either you take my car or you sleep over.” He blinked as you poked his cheek with a low chuckle.

You were clearly joking about the sleeping over part, you knew he'd never take that option. Still, it was funny seeing his scrunched up face.

“Okay.” Spencer folding his arms across his chest. The streetlight latched onto his profile, illuminating his cheeks in with the yellow light, that's when you could see the dark bags around his eyes. Seems like you weren't the only one having a hard time sleeping. “I'll pick you up in the morning.”

Your eyes widened lightly. “You don't have—”

“I’ll be here.” He is quick to brush you off, mentioning your parked car on the side of the road. There was barely any indication of life in the streets, except for two other cars and a guy walking his dog. “And I'll take you home, too. C'mon. It's late. If you're not letting me take the subway, I won't let you walk home at this hour, either.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“And you're annoying,” he threw back, earning a gasp from you to which he tried to hold back a grin. Oh, it was all too familiar to not have that bittersweet feeling crawling up his spine.

That bickering? That was the most normal you two have been in months. He missed that. You missed that.

“That hasn't changed.” He added softly, leaning on the driver's door as you walked around to reach your side. You froze before entering the car, eyes lifting and locking with his honey brown ones like magnets lining up in the field. How could it feel like coming home after a long time spent away? The walls and the smell, they remained there, the ceiling might be a little cracked, but you would always feel the same walking into that same room.

He watched as you entered your building, waving him goodbye with a contained smile and tired eyes. Only when the gate closed behind you did he drive away to his own neighborhood. The jasmine scent of the car and the keychain brushing against his fingertips every time he made a turn drew a nostalgic smile in his features. As for you, well. You didn't feel as if you were beyond repair anymore. In spite of the cracks and the scars and the fears, devastation wasn't the only thing in your corner, there may be something else there as well. Someone.

Apparently, nothing had changed. And everything did, at the same time.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I do not want to have you to fill the empty parts of me.

I want to be full on my own. I want to be so complete I could light a whole city. and then, I want to have you.

‘cause the two of us combined could set it on fire.”

[ rupi kaur ]

━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets

( sources )

— want to read more about the cepheus constellation? click here

— want to read more about the body's internal clock? click here

A/N: thank you for reading, I hope you have a great day &lt;3

[thescrumptiousstuffs]

Only Friends, Episode 5 - The Extra Hour

In which we get Sand’s backstory (and proving once and for all he is the best boy ever, even P’Jojo said so!) before petty Boston ruins everything (again 😩)

Sand and Ray

Gosh…these 2 are everything this episode. We start with a montage of how mundane and boring Sand life is - study, working his multiple jobs, exercising, counting his finance and repeat…until Ray comes beaming into his life, and really give some much needed sunshine (heh, see what I did there?) to Sand’s life - and as per Sand, “his 25th hour.”

I love the domestic scenes we get - from Ray pretty much moving in with Sand (I suspect some time has passed by from the previous episode), to their domestic horny stuffs, to Sand catering Ray’s every whim. But as much as Sand spoils Ray, Ray actually does the same - he could have chosen not to go on the bike with Sand (after whining how hot and dusty it will be), he could have chosen not to model and indulge Sand’s desire for him to wear Sand’s style of clothes (after again whining halfheartedly it’s not his style).

I believe Ray is gradually but surely moving on from his unrequited love for Mew. He likes getting to know Sand - from all the above, to following Sand to the makeshift concert (and the song choice!! It’s from one of P’Jojo’s list for Sand’s Spotify!). And the fact that everytime Sand is with him, they are in their own world (I mean, poor Summer - she never stood a chance with Ray 😂…are we sure Ray is a playboy? So far, all I’m getting is him being hyper focus on one person when he likes someone - previously Mew, now Sand).

I also love the serious conversations these 2 have surrounding their births and their respective relationships with their parents - it makes such a good foundation for their blossoming friendship (and hopefully relationship). Gosh, the parallel of both being born from unexpected pregnancies - but Sand’s mom (and her gaggle of go-go women, I LOVE THEM) deciding to embrace him and raise him right (just look at how independent and self-reliance he is! P’Jojo tweeted how Sand is someone you want as a boyfriend in University, and I agree wholeheartedly) while Ray’s mom unfortunately fall into post-partum depression and spiralled into alcoholism (and the way Sand’s hand shook when he poured the alcohol drink for Ray, before the camera zoom to Sand looking at Ray to the bottle while Ray looked somehow bitter and sad - yes, FK again showing their supremacy in acting 👌)

But urgh, their blossoming relationship is now in tatters because of Boston being bitter and petty. I think Boston being informed by Mew that the latter is giving up his virginity to Top put him at edge. (And him yet again using Nick to forget about the fact, hence the reason he asked Nick whether he could stay the night at Nick’s place, when it’s usually the opposite)

And so to see Ray moving on, being happy with Sand - it snapped him. Boston is the type of person who can’t stand not winning, and I also think he has the mentality of “if I’m not happy, nobody can.” 😫

I still do not believe Ray and Mew slept together, so whatever Boston is spouting “are you two timing him?”, what does that even mean? Also, Mew called to say he was giving his virginity to Top…and even if they did slept together, it was TWO years ago. And now Ray knows Boston took pictures of RayMew kissing each other…gawd, Boston just sounded delusional during that whole scene.

In whatever case, the damage is done. And we see Sand guarding his heart again, despite Ray genuinely trying (for the first time) communicating by stating “If there is something you want to know, ask me, I’ll answer them.” Unfortunately, Sand is weary and it didn’t help Ray kept saying they were just friends each time someone asked what their relationship are (cause you know, Ray is a disaster muffin who won’t know he is in a relationship eventhough he basically did couply things with Sand). Urghhh…my heart just breaks for them 😭😩😫…and to end the episode with Sand shedding a tear and feeling alone (despite Ray lying next to him)…I don’t think I can forgive Boston for breaking their newfound happiness.

Nick and Boston

Which brings me to the toxic relationship of these 2. We see Nick trying to become more like Top. He exercising regularly to shape up and dress more smartly to capture Boston’s interest. But urgh…Boston as usual, plays it enough to make Nick happy (and the poor boy, Boston paying attention to the changes and commenting it, Nick thinks these are all positive things).

We also see Boston stating to Nick he wants to stop sleeping around (really?? When hell freezes over) because one of his conquest took video/photos of them together and Boston having to threaten said conquest to delete the incriminating footage (if that is not foreshadowing of what may happen to Boston in the future, I’m not sure what is. Also, Nick still has the recording of TopBoston….)

But what truly devastated me was when Boston spewing all the nonsense to SandRay that led to the massive fight between Ray and Boston; Ray warned Nick about Boston’s callous and selfish nature, and Nick just resignedly acknowledged it, fully aware he is too in love with Boston, and can’t seem to find a way out of it.

I’m sorry, but I can’t see any redeemable qualities in Boston 😭😭😭 (I love you, Neo and your acting in this series, 👌 - but urgh, Boston makes my blood boils)

Top and Mew

I can’t pinpoint it exactly but there is something not quite right with their relationship. On one hand, Top is sweet and attentive to Mew (I can see why Mew fell in love with Top). But twice now in this episode, 2 strange men stared (and smiled almost creepily at Top - with both time Mew clocking it? But not really addressing it). And Top genuinely doesn’t seem to be aware of the staring itself (or are we meant to think it’s all in Mew’s head? And it’s just Mew being insecure? 🧐🤨. I mean Mew did warn Top in the first episode he can become obsessive). I also do not believe one bit Top has given up on his drug habits plus his side eyeing Boston while shading both Boston and Ray in front of Mew (albeit subtly), is he slowly trying to manipulate Mew and isolate Mew from his group of friends?)

Nonetheless, Mew and Top did fall in love (or at least we are led to believe they are in love) and well, Top popped Mew’s cherry. What I cannot fathom is WHY Mew called Boston (of all people) to tell him the news. I can understand why he didn’t call Ray (so that he doesn’t rub on Ray’s unrequited love), but why not Cheum? Who from the get go rooted for TopMew. I’m not sure whether Mew has an ulterior motive or he genuinely thinks Boston will be happy for them as one of his bestie. Either way, Boston is NOT a happy camper (as we are aware) and took it out on SandRay newly found happiness.

Ray, Mew, Namchuem, Boston

Now more than ever, we are seeing cracks in their friendship. Ray and Boston don’t seem to get along without Namchuem and Mew. Ray and Mew (for obvious reasons) are probably talking the bare minimum with each other (and the fact that Top clocked on Mew and Namchuen basically doing the bulk of their hostel project tells you something). I feel the most sorry for Namchuen who has to deal with 3 sorry excuses of boys (cause let’s be honest, all 3 are disastrous in different ways)

Anyway, as usual, each episode makes my head spin and this is just me trying to figure out what’s happening. The preview from episode 6 seems wild with Mew’s birthday and Mew punching Ray? Oh dear…it’s going to be more heartbreak 😩😫😣…but onward and forward, is it Saturday yet?

09/09/2023

[istadris]

Super Mario AU heavily inspired by the Lion King (because drawing it will take me forever and I want to throw that idea in the world).

In this AU, Bowser wasn't king of the Koopas (at least not at first) and most importantly, he and Mario were close friends.

Mario met Bowser when he explored the Darklands for the first time; intimidated at first, he quickly found this strong Koopa to be charming and carefree under his sharp wit, a persona Bowser cultivated carefully. Mario trusted Bowser, believed him to be the coolest guy in the world and did everything to earn his respect and friendship. Bowser was his best friend.

Or so did Mario think.

He didn't realize that Bowser was using him for his plans ; growing closer to someone in the Princess' inner circle (as in this AU, Mario, Luigi and Peach all but grew up together) with the goal of getting rid of him once the time was right. Bowser encouraged Mario into reckless behaviour, suggesting certain places to visit because they would have something the kingdom needed, and wouldn't the Princess appreciate it ?

Mario took the habit of dragging Luigi with him in these adventures, until the day they both almost died to enemies in the Darklands; Mario then tried his best to not involve Luigi into his expeditions anymore to keep him safe.

But it only made him more susceptible to Bowser's manipulations. After all, his best friend wouldn't put him in danger, right ?

Until one day, Bowser manipulates Mario into doing something that causes a great catastrophe; maybe causing the death of Peach's parents, or someone as important to Peach (Toadsworth maybe?). But it wasn't actually his fault; like in TLK, the event covered the moment where Bowser murders with his own hands the victims, and Mario (who was supposed to die as well) doesn't see the crime. All he sees, when he manages to pull himself out of danger, is his friend's dark expression as he takes in the gruesome scene.

"What have you done?"

It doesn't take much convincing from Bowser to send Mario running away, too horrified and consumed by guilt to come back to Peach and Luigi and all of the Mushroom Kingdom.

With Mario, the only witness, out of the way, Bowser makes his move : presenting himself to the castle, claiming to be here to help and swiftly, quietly taking over the crown, under the pretence that Peach is too distraught by her parents' death to rule properly. And it doesn't take long before he brings his followers along : Koopas and Goombas and Shy Guys who were seduced by Bowser's promise for more power in the luxurious Mushroom Kingdom.

Bowser also claims that Mario tragically lost his life as well, and his body washed away or too mangled to be recognized. No one suspects a thing ; Luigi was one of the only ones to know Bowser was friend with Mario and has no reason to suspect any foul play. Bowser still makes sure to keep a close eye on Luigi, ready to eliminate him as well if he ever grows suspicious.

Months pass. Bowser slowly, methodically asserts himself as the new king and removes any sign of resistance. By solving issues and defeating threats the kingdom faces (which he engineers himself from behind the scenes), he gives the impression he's a reliable king, very strict but fair and the only thing between the kingdom and destruction; by the time Peach starts to be concerned and wants to intervene, Bowser is too influential and powerful to challenge.

Mario is hiding away in another land. He doesn't dare to come back : everytime he thinks about it, he fears the reaction of Peach and Luigi if he tells them what (he thinks) happened. And after all this time, his self-exile is a significant proof of his culpability, isn't it ?

I don't want Peach to be the one to look for help and bring back Mario, as she's still officially in charge and would prefer to stay in the kingdom and try to fight for her subjects rather than flee; and Luigi would be too carefully watched by Bowser and his minions to have a chance to leave the kingdom.

Instead I hesitate between Daisy or Toad, although Daisy might have the role of Timon and Pumbaa, greeting Mario in her kingdom and encouraging him to stay and enjoy himself without thinking about his past (in this version of the AU, she doesn't know Peach and her kingdom).

In any case, when Mario is convinced to come back to the Kingdom, the events play similarly than in TLK : only with Luigi in the role of Sarabi, summoned by Bowser in a humiliating display so the Koopa King can take out his anger on an easy victim. Luigi has been cowed until now, unable to fight back; but when Bowser brings Mario into the argument, Luigi dares to stand up and defend his brother -only to be violently struck back.

And that's when Mario shows up.

Bowser is taken aback, unsure of how to react as Mario rushes to his brother's side and makes sure he's okay, before marching towards Bowser, angry at his friend's behaviour...but Bowser catches himself and manages to turn the situation around, using Mario's shame to undermine him, pushing him to admit publicly his role in the disaster.

(Peach going to Mario and saying "It's not true...Tell me it's not true." as he hangs his head down in shame. <3 <3)

Anyway I just want Bowser circling around Mario as he manipulates him and smugly tells him "Ah, so you haven't told them our little secret.Well, now's your chance to tell them."

[famouscyclenerd]

I gotta say, I've been shipping elucien since acomaf.

But after acowar I kinda forgot about the series. I was not following Sjm, was not on tumblr, not really paying attention. 2018 rolled around and nothing! I wasn't sure if we'd get more. Or when.

And then, a few months after Silver Flames came out, I saw a post about it, and it being about Nesta and Cassian.

So as I was reading sf for the first time, I saw a connection between Azriel and Gwyn. It was evident to me as there was a lot more interaction between them than, let's say him and Emerie. Even him and Nesta. Always glancing toward each other, the competitiveness, "you're the new ribbon", Az being amused and encouraging, dagger lessons, etc...

And after I discovered the bonus chapters, it (to me) only confirmed what I had already suspected.

Both elucien and gwynriel were not just pulled out of thin air. They have moments, banter, tension and conversations that makes thousands of people want them to end up together.

-Elucien are actual mates.

-Sjm retconned Lucien's heritage after changing her mind and making them mates instead of him and Nesta.

-She has publicly talked about them (as a couple) twice.

-Both their names means 'light' in some form.

To state that casual (or new) readers would be surprised and upset to read a book about them is the dumbest shit I've heard in a while.

Because not everybody sees the e/riel appeal, believe it or not. Regardless of being a casual reader or in the cult. It is not so obvious to everyone.

And just because gwynriel happens, it doesn't mean that Elain won't get a book smh🤦‍♀️elucien is there for a reason...

Sjm stated that each book will follow one couple getting together.

Just like Nesta got a book with Cassian. where Nesta was the lead.

Elain could get a book with Lucien, where Elain will be the lead.

Azriel could get a book with Gwyn, where he will (likely) be the lead.

Or... Elain and Azriel could get a book, where I guess she will be the lead.

To claim casual/new reader's opinion is weird as hell. "My friend has never read acotar before and she ships Az and Elain." Okay? Great? I'm sure you had nothing to do with it?? I could easily try to influence my friends to ship the people I ship. So they wouldn't get the chance to really make up their own opinions of each potential couple.

Even ten or twenty years down the line... how do you know how people will perceive these books, the characters, when the fandom is as split as it is currently? It's a stupid argument.

Nothing's been confirmed yet (let's hope that changes soon 'cause I'm hanging on by the thinnest of threads rn) so hold your horses!

Anything could happen.

[justrainandcoffee]

Against all odds (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 4

Crossover Peaky Blinders - Hunger Games

Masterlist. Parts: one - two - three

Summary: The 64th games. Rose finally meets Snow. He's intimidating and smart as people say he was. It's true that she hates him, but it was also him who says something that is about to change her life. Alfie is facing the consequences of knowing the Arena before the rest of them.

Warning: None.

Words: 3k. || Alfie x Rose masterlist

The mansion resembled her own, but was much more luxurious and with more domestic staff. Alfie was with Hilda and Alex when they requested her presence.

Two well-dressed men with serious expressions led her to a car waiting in the street. No one told Rose what it was about, but the Capitol symbol embroidered on the lapel of their coats gave the young woman all the answers she needed.

And along with those answers came a lot of thoughts in her head.

Inside the car was a woman older than her with white hair and blue tips. Nails decorated with what looked like tiny diamonds and an expensive gold dress and matching shoes.

"I'm Hazelle Goodsigth," said the woman, "you're Mrs. Evert."

"Yes, I am. May I...?"

"President Snow asked to see you, Mrs. Evert."

Hazelle Goodsight looked Rose up and down as if looking for something to criticise, but said nothing.

"It's an honour," Rose lied, "but I don't understand why... I'm nothing more than a stylist. It's my husband who's in charge of the business. I would never..."

"That's exactly why Mr. Snow asked to see you, Mrs. Evert because you're a stylist."

"I don't understand..."

"He's going to explain it to you," Hazelle said, ending any interaction between the two women. And both bodyguards never said a word.

So there she was now, sitting in the lobby of the mansion, in a leather armchair and looking at a painting of a blonde-haired, brown-eyed woman with a gentle smile.

Her mind was with Alfie. She would have given anything to be able to seek refuge in his arms and soothe her anxiety. But she forced herself to concentrate. More than ever her alter-ego had to shine.

It was one thing to pretend to be at home with Lawrence's friends; it was quite another to do so with Coriolanus Snow, famed for his sharp mind and cold-bloodedness. If he suspected anything, the next time Alfie asked about her, he'd have to meet her at the cemetery.

"Her name was Ariana," said a voice behind him. A shiver ran through her body.

"President Snow," she replied, bowing her head.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Evert." Snow looked at her intently before placing a kiss on her hand. Then he turned his gaze back to the portrait "She was my wife. She died many years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It seems like she was a good woman."

"I appreciate that. And yes, she was. Sometimes too much so. Come with me, Mrs. Evert."

Rose followed Snow down a narrow but well-lit hallway with several vases filled with white roses.

"Did Hazelle tell you the reason for her visit here?" he asked still walking.

"A little yes, but not much."

"I'm looking for a new stylist, Mrs. Evert. The nice thing about the parade is that it gives me a chance to see what the different stylists we hire are capable of." Snow finally reached a white door which she opened and stepped aside to make way for her.

The room was larger than Rose had first thought. There were huge windows overlooking a flowery garden and the scent of said flowers filled the air, in tune with the summer that was felt in every corner of Panem.

"Have a seat, please, Mrs. Evert."

Rose still felt the urge to run out of there and her mind was still trying to process that standing before her was the person she hated the most and the cause of so much horror. Still, of course, she obeyed.

"As I was saying, the parade gives me the opportunity to study not only the tributes and their mentors but also the stylists. A lot of people think it's to show off the competitors, which is true, but to see their talent. And honestly, it's been a few years since district 9 stopped having the same designs and became part of one of the best."

"That's a compliment, Mr. President... I, I really love that. But it's no more than what they do in districts 1 or 2. That's talent."

"But there's no love. Doing great things without love, it doesn't make a lot of sense. I can see that the costumes are the best, but they don't appeal to me. I'm looking for something else." Snow's blue eyes seemed to be trying to read her mind. "I know your husband, he's been to dinner parties here more than once, but I've never seen you before.

"Because Lawrence prefers to go to those dinner parties alone. Men's dinners, he calls them."

Snow narrowed her eyes, "but that's not true. The invitation is extended to couples, if they have them."

"I didn't know that," Rose replied. "Lawrence isn't the most forthcoming of men because..."

Because he's a fucking asshole.

"...Because that's the way he is."

Rose knew about such dinners, but it was true that Lawrence had never bothered to take her with him. Ever since Rose had learned five years ago that her husband was one of those who paid to have sex with the winners of the games, she suspected that they did more than eat at these gatherings. And the very idea made her nauseous.

"I'll take care to be clearer, then," Snow said. "Separate invitations might make the message clearer. Your husband is a complicated man, but he helps with investments for the games. The dinners are just gratitude, not because I have any appreciation for him. With all due respect."

Snow was a charismatic fucking tyrant. And now that he stood before her, smiling, Rose could sense that. He had risen to the top of Panem as a young man and had stayed there ever since. No one who wasn't smart, charismatic, or insightful could have made it. And Snow was that and so much more. He was the Devil and hell was Panem.

"Lawrence pays for certain nights with Victors," Rose said. It was a statement that could cost her dearly, but she needed to see the old man's reaction with her own eyes.

"Yes, he does."

Of course Snow wasn't going to deny it, there was no need to lie when he knew the woman knew the truth. Nor was he going to deny reality. The upper class of Panem found the winners of the games fascinating. He just found one more method to make them pay for the districts' betrayal. It wasn't money that motivated him but pleasure in making them suffer "...But given your tone of voice, I assume he wasn't the one who told you."

"No. It wasn't him, I heard rumours and I didn't doubt them."

Snow nodded and looked at Rose, smiling sideways "Infidelity is not something I condone, though I don't care what others do either. But I am compelled to say this: for the right price any member of the Capitol can do the same," he said, "with any victor."

That was like a door opening in Rose's head. Snow caught her off guard, and that was something she hadn't planned for. The words hit her in the face without her realising and she was silent for several seconds. Rose looked at Snow and knew without him saying anything that he knew about her and Alfie. Even if he thought it was simply sex.

"...So, the suit," the man said changing the subject "I can count on you and your talent to be able to do something for the grand coronation of our new victor?"

If Rose thought she was going to be able to steer the conversation where she wanted it to go, she was wrong. Snow had always been in charge of the meeting.

"Of course, Mr. Snow. I need to take measurements, nothing more, and talk about the colours and textures you prefer."

Snow nodded. He found her company quite pleasant and to Rose's suprise he invited her to have dinner there. Some other people were also there. Just business and they talked about money and investments, so Rose barely talked. She listened to them, tho. But in reality, her mind was busy with his words

"With any victor..."

It was late. The ninth floor was in silence and the lights were out. Rose walked barefoot towards the kitchen and pour herself a glass of water.

Fuck.

People always talked about Snow like the most intimidating man you could met, but it was a different thing when you have him in front of your eyes.

He was charming but his gaze was so cold, empty and yet full of cunningness. He was the perfect example of a psychopath. A man perfectly aware of what he could cause on other people and with a dark side he couldn't hide. A charming manipulator.

He didn't invented the Games, but he was the one who perfected them and made that thousands of thousands of people considered acceptable the fact that kids were massacred every year. 1484 kids dead and counting since the beginning of the games and people were happy about that.

Rose felt the cold tiles under her feet while she walked towards his bedroom. She knew Alfie was still upset with her, but she needed a familiar face after that encounter. Carefully she opened the door, Rose saw his silhouette in the darkness. He was sleeping soundly and didn't hear her.

She left her dress on a chair and laid next to him. Her face was against his back and she could feel his perfume. That man was her whole world, even if it was a world she could have for a couple of weeks every year. She planted a kiss on his broad shoulders and then closed her eyes.

Alfie didn't notice her until very late when he rolled over the bed and saw her at his side. He hadn't seen her the whole evening and was worried about her, despite everything.

When he put an arm around her, she opened her eyes.

"I didn't want to wake you up. When you came here?"

"A couple of hours ago. It's okay, I wasn't really sleeping. I'm sorry I'm here… I- uhg… it was an awful day, Al. I just needed you. I know you're angry but…"

"Yeah. Well, sweetheart, I can't be angry with you for that long, can I? Time is something we don't have and I don't want to spend this year away from you. I thought about looking for you, but I didn't know where you were"

"I really love you, Al."

"I know and I love you, too."

A long and warm kiss was all they needed. Alfie was right, the last thing they had was time.

"Snow called me," she finally said, when he brought her against his body. "Fucking hell, Alfie… Snow. I almost shitted myself."

"Holy hell, Rosie… what the fuck! What happened?!"

"He wanted someone new to make him a suit for the award ceremony. No one knows who the victor will be, but they planned everything with anticipation. So, here I am… sewing a suit for that prick."

"Did you accept?!"

"It's not like I have any other options. You can't refuse to do anything when it's about him. Or you pay the consequences. And there's more…"

"Even more? What else happened?"

The bedroom was dark and yet Alfie could swear that he could see her brown eyes. So she told him "He knows we're having an affair." Alfie felt he was about to die.

"I didn't tell him," she rushed to say "he knew. Don't ask me why, because I don't know, but he knew…"

"Fuck me."

"But then he said something interesting," she stopped a moment and stroked his hand "he said: for the right price, any member of the Capitol can have any victor."

Alfie understood that statement very well. Sadly, he knew what that meant. He turned the light on to see her properly.

"Are you going to pay for my company?"

"I'm tired of seeing you once a year. I'm tired of us being apart. But I could never, ever, do that if you're not okay with this. I give a shit about the money, Lawrence has so much money that he doesn't know what to do with it… but I need to know if you agree. We survived five years apart we can keep doing this."

"That's contribute to the corrupt system you're trying to break."

"You think I don't know that? But I want to see you more often. As selfish as it sounds. I miss you! And It's a fuck up situation,  Al. It's just I thought… I didn't want to offend you."

"You didn't offend me. You're just asking for my consent."

"Of course I'm asking for your consent!! I'd never forced you into anything! What the hell!"

"Then as a victor I can demand something in exchange of my services. I have only one requirement: if one of my kids, now or in the future, win the games I want you to promise me that you're going to pay for them. Exclusivity. So you can protect them from your husband and his friends," Alfie stared at her and Rose nodded.

"Yes. I can do that. But I'm not paying for your services,  but for us. I'm paying for talking to you, for sharing a meal, for a hug or two… I don't want, if you don't wa…"

"Rosie, luv. I want," he interrupted her. "But they don't know about this. Let them believe I'm your sex toy."

She didn't want to laugh but she couldn't help it either. "Damn, Al, you're a very expensive sex toy."

"Well, darling, I know my value," he kissed her briefly "do you think that Snow has an eye on us?"

"Al, Snow has an eye on every one in fucking Panem. You, me, the kids and his own family… only controlling every single one of us, he can remain there."

"And yet,  you're trying to burn him" Alfie said, at the same time one of his hands were brushing her ribcage.

"When you're an elephant, you ignore the ants. I'm just an ant. One of hundreds that are under his feet but he can't see."

.

The beginning of the games werealso the beginning of Alfie's nightmare. One more time.

When mentors saw the Arena, they turned their heads towards Alfie who was the only who didn't seem surprised by it. But only one dared to confront him.

"Well, of course you sent your tributes to a special training place! I asked myself why did you waste time sending them to a fucking swimming pool instead of training like the rest of us! It's clear now! Your whore told you the Arena! The bitch knew it!"

Aveline Young was staring at Alfie with hatred in her black eyes. Way taller than him, the black woman wasn't afraid of his angry face.

"That was my fucking decision, Aveline! I sent them there because I thought it was a long time since they created an Arena full of water. I was lucky!"

"Do not underestimate my intelligence. I know you since you were a tribute, I saw you become a Victor and a mentor. You were always the same until you met that woman. I understand you want a pussy, but you're fucking the wrong one!" Aveline stepped closer to him "she'll betray you. She's an Evert. No matter what she's telling you."

Alfie pushed her away from him "don't you dare to talk about her as you know her, Aveline. I'm not underestimating your intelligence. But you don't underestimate mine. And she's not just a pussy."

"Avie…" a new voice interfered with the confrontation between those two. "I don't think it does matter now. The games started and we already lost eight kids. We don't need more drama.  And in the end it's not your business." Tommy Shelby was the one that talked.

"Well, your tributes are alive! Mine are not! And it's my business. Maybe they'd stand a chance if they had the same privileges as Alfie. What side are you choosing?"

"I'm not choosing any side! There aren't any sides here."

"Oh, please…" Aveline rolled her eyes.

But Alfie was out of his mind.

"Privileges?! What fuckin' privileges are ya talkin' about?!" Alfie growled and walked towards her "Do you think my previous kids had privileges because she's my friend? Did you  see their violent deaths? Did ya see my girl last year? They stabbed her heart!! Do you think these ones, this year, have any chance of winning? For the smart woman we know you're, Aveline, you're a fuckin' idiot!" Alfie stared at her once last time before going to the elevator.

"Alfie! Alfie!"

A familiar voice was calling him, but he ignored the call. "Alfie!"

"Not now, Lucy."

The red haired woman stood up there, looking at him. Then, she furrowed her brow "You're going to listen to me, Alfie Solomons!" she grabbed his hand before he could put a foot inside the elevator. "Let me remember you what I told you years ago. Not every one here think like her. Volcano Girl can be very stubborn! I didn't believe you when you said you didn't know about the Arena, I think you knew and you trained your kids to win. But I'm not judging you and Tommy isn't judging you either. You're doing what you need to do to have at least one victor. And it's okay."

"Tell that to them, then! The ones who think like Young! They're fucking thinking I'm… what? A traitor? What if I knew before her about the Arena? I'm tired of losing kids! We're all tired of losing kids! And yet, there's no guarantee that any of mine can survive!! Even if I knew about it fucking days ago!! Fuck!! She's talking like i designed that fucking monstrosity! Like my Rosie designed it! Fuck them all."

Lucy chuckled "My Rosie?"

Alfie realised that he shouldn't say that, but it was too late. He talked without thinking. He was furious and was trying to defend himself and also Rose.

"You're fricking in love with her, Alfie."

But he didn't respond instead he pressed the button to call the elevator and faced Lucy one last time that day "See you later."

When Alfie entered their floor, he found himself alone. Nor Alissa nor Rose were there. He suspected that last one was busy with Snow's suit. Alfie opened her bedroom, sat down on her bed and sighed. He knew that things were going to be difficult. No one could give a fuck if Rose could have had another surname, a harmless one. The problem from the very beginning wasn't that she was married the problem was Evert.

Over his head there was the painting representing the Capitol and behind it numerous sheets of paper with information that could make the other victors shut up. But he didn't know that.

When he calmed down, he returned to the hall to see the rest of first day of the games. And he arrived just in time to see his boy, Alex, die in hands of the girl from district 4. Not long after that, Hilda drowned herself trying to grab a backpack.

Not even having special training his tributes could win. And yet, people said he had privileges.

Next part

[zhalfirin-binds]

Look at things gone wrong with Moomin Midwinter

There's plenty that went wrong with this bind and stupid me kept thinking 'I can fix this'. Well, turned out I could not, some of the things that went wrong were just the step to finish it completely so, well, this is what came out of it

Most prominently, and first thing to go wrong, was the fact that I managed to pare a hole into my leather. Only later I realised, the display on my leather thickness gauge can be turned so it reads 0 thickness when the pushed down without anything in between. Instead of paring down to 0,6 or 0,7 mm I was usually closer to 0,3 or 0,4mm... which explains the hole. Of course the hole was not closer enough to the edge to be covered up or trimmed off too. So I decided to put a think piece of the same leather beneath it to cover the board and have the same colour. This might even have worked, had the hole ended up on a flat surface and in the area that gets the most motion. At least it's on the backside.

Next thing, I did not not sufficiently colour the white core of my endbands. I usually colour them with crayons, but for some reason the colour did not stick this time. I might still be able to fix this with acrylic colour. Either that or I ruin the leather trying XD

Then the mock up on the backside cover. Often the pictures I use are too small or have a too little surrounding the scene I actually want on the cover to be usable as they are without white frames. So what I do is I make the actual picture larger using GIMP of Affinity Photo to create a wider, patterned border and avoid blank turn ins. On the backside I did not notice I failed to make the edge large enough and blend in nicely so I have a more pale and blurry covered area and (to me) obvious edge shape of the tool I used.

Another thing I noticed too late and which was probably the cause for some follow up issues. I think I hung in the book block slightly askew. Now the inner book looks like it's cut askew too. (I measured back and front and I'm fairly certain the skew comes from a twist in the spine and not from the book block being cut at an angle.)

Following this issue, the squares were fucked up. Too large on one side too narrow on the other. I noticed that when I pasted down and closed the lid only lightly to check and fix any skew if necessary. It was necessary on back and front. So I pushed the paste down gently into a nicer position and pressed. Turned out fixing the position left me with wrinkles on the paste down side of the book. Luckily the pattern hides that rather well. (Have some close ups for better view)

Additionally, the paste downs, I cut 1mm shorter because I already suspected the cheap paper would stretch a lot, stretched beyond the book block still and are now visible even when the covers are closed.

[vickyvicarious]

There were two lines in particular that stood out to me today, and made me wonder just how long the Captain has suspected the first mate of being the cause of all these disappearances. They are as follows:

Just as I was beginning to hope that the mate would come out calmer—for I heard him knocking away at something in the hold, and work is good for him—there came up the hatchway a sudden, startled scream, which made my blood run cold, and up on the deck he came as if shot from a gun—a raging madman, with his eyes rolling and his face convulsed with fear. [...] I suppose I know the secret too, now. It was this madman who had got rid of the men one by one, and now he has followed them himself.

August 2

There are two main things going on here. First, the mate is a violent madman; secondly, the Captain knows that work will calm him down. This latter implies that the Captain has taken pains to manage the mate's temper in the past. And in doing so, it adds an extra facet of guilt to his assumption that the mate was the killer all along, because he knew at least a little bit, and he thought he'd been handling it. He thought he understood just how far the mate would go, and how to stop him, and it turns out now that he was blind all along. I imagine he feels responsible for failing to protect the rest of his crew. The familiarity implied by the Captain knowing how to manage the mate also suggests that even if he started suspecting him a while ago, he might not have wanted to admit to it, even to himself.

I decided to look back over the previous entries with the Captain's perspective of the mate in mind, and honestly... I can definitely see where his suspicions would have grown. There are also several little moments of him trying to 'manage' the mate, as well as some insight into the mate's own character and the reasons for his reactions. But it does involve a fair bit of quoting, so I'm sticking it under a cut for length.

Mate could not make out what was wrong; they only told him there was something, and crossed themselves. Mate lost temper with one of them that day and struck him. Expected fierce quarrel, but all was quiet.

14 July

This is the first mention of the mate. He is immediately linked with violence. From the Captain's perspective, he gets furious with the crew's superstitions and is very quick to resort to violence. The Captain expects things to escalate (possibly due to knowing the mate, possibly due to the crew reacting badly to one of them being hit) but is pleasantly surprised when they don't.

With later context, it seems apparent that the reason the mate is so furious is specifically because of the something that doesn't get named. Perhaps he thinks he knows what the worst 'something' is and that it can't be here; perhaps he just is angry that they won't elaborate. But the superstition is what makes him cross over from anger into outright violence, in what seems like an unplanned and heat-of-the-moment reaction.

Men more downcast than ever. All said they expected something of the kind, but would not say more than there was something aboard. Mate getting very impatient with them; feared some trouble ahead.

16 July

It's the same thing here. The Captain is outright wary of the mate's reaction to the crew, and is paying close attention, likely with an intention to manage the situation when tensions build too much. But the mate is once again bothered most by the vague fear of something supernatural. Again I wonder if it's more about them considering it being here at all (he knows It can't follow him onto the water) or with them refusing to name their fear to him (maybe he knows of other things as well).

Later in the day I got together the whole crew, and told them, as they evidently thought there was some one in the ship, we would search from stem to stern. First mate angry; said it was folly, and to yield to such foolish ideas would demoralise the men; said he would engage to keep them out of trouble with a handspike. I let him take the helm, while the rest began thorough search, all keeping abreast, with lanterns: we left no corner unsearched. As there were only the big wooden boxes, there were no odd corners where a man could hide. Men much relieved when search over, and went back to work cheerfully. First mate scowled, but said nothing.

17 July

The Captain's willingness to capitulate to the crew's fears angers the mate. Knowing this, we see the Captain give the mate a job to do to keep him occupied while everyone else gets involved in the search. From his POV, this seems to work to keep him calm/stop him from realizing his threat, and it allows the Captain to calm everyone else: a win-win. But I think the mate's objections reveal much more about himself than they do the crew. He is the one who would be demoralized, who is trying so hard not to yield to such foolish ideas. He's rejecting everything to do with the idea of a monster on board, because he knows/fears it to well to handle himself. If he lets himself acknowledge the possibility there's no way he could keep it together, so he lashes out instead. By being left in charge of the helm, he gets to avoid feeding his own fears, and meanwhile everyone else's reassured reaction probably reassures whatever part of himself knows the truth.

Rough weather last three days, and all hands busy with sails—no time to be frightened. Men seem to have forgotten their dread. Mate cheerful again, and all on good terms.

22 July

This entry is dual-purpose. First, the mate has also been extremely busy, and this is a good distraction for him from his fear. Secondly, the crew being so busy means that they haven't been bringing up their suspicions, and so it's easier for him to ignore his own. While they have only forgotten their dread, he's described as cheerful. Possibly that's just in contrast to his prior anger, but it might also hint that he is outright happy at things seeming normal again/the ability to shove all suspicion down.

Men all in a panic of fear; sent a round robin, asking to have double watch, as they fear to be alone. Mate angry. Fear there will be some trouble, as either he or the men will do some violence.

24 July

The Captain's worry for the crew is more likely to be mutiny due to their fear; he worries that the mate will lose control of his temper and try to beat them down in order to shut them up. What he's missing is that the mate's reaction is also related to fear. Giving in to a double watch is as much as saying there is something to be afraid of, which he desperately does not want to do.

Honorary mention for the lack of mention of the mate in the 28 July entry as well - once again, they've been working endlessly, and there isn't any mention of the mate. You might expect someone's temper to get shorter when they're sleep-deprived. But the mate is calmed by being busy and by not having to listen to the crew's fears.

Are now without second mate, and crew in a panic. Mate and I agreed to go armed henceforth and wait for any sign of cause.

29 July

This line applies to all three. The Captain allowing the mate to go armed may seem to be an odd way to manage his temper, but I think it comes down to giving him more of a job to do. Working calms him down. Having the ability and responsibility to do something will reassure him. And of course, as first mate it's simply his job to be one of the two men making these decisions and keeping their heads cool when everyone else is panicking. On the other hand, at least in retrospect, this moment must contribute to making him look suspicious later. He now has an excuse to be armed at all times and suddenly things start getting worse much faster, almost like he doesn't need to wait for an opportunity like before.

And finally, from the mate's POV, this moment marks him finally capitulating of his own accord to his fears. He's no longer able to ignore the situation, or grumpily follow the orders of others who are being foolish. No, now he is involved in the choice to stay armed, and by taking action himself he's started to open the door to his own fears.

Retired worn out; slept soundly; awaked by mate telling me that both man of watch and steersman missing. 

30 July

Except for the first man who went missing, it has often been unclear who discovers the missing people. But now we get the mate being the one to deliver the news. At least in hindsight, this can't help but make him seem more suspicious. Right after the Captain agrees that both of them should be armed and ready, the mate delivers news that two men have gone missing at once. If he is the one who did it, then surely this timing suggests that he found it easier to kill them. That's not to say it would have been impossibly for him to just pick up a weapon earlier, but in the Captain's frame of mind this timing probably makes him more suspicious.

We seem to be drifting to some terrible doom. Mate now more demoralised than either of men. His stronger nature seems to have worked inwardly against himself. Men are beyond fear, working stolidly and patiently, with minds made up to worst. They are Russian, he Roumanian.

1 August

After his discovery of the two missing crewmembers, the mate is miserable. Here the readers finally get the reveal of his nationality, suggesting that he's known of vampires all along. And he's miserable and afraid. Likely repeating to himself again and again that it's impossible, they can't cross running water, etc. Since the ship is drifting, he can't even throw himself into his work in the same way, and this forced inaction makes everything worse for him. Meanwhile the Captain sees the mate's condition and views it as his stronger nature turned inwardly to his detriment. This phrasing is a little confusing but I think could definitely contribute to seeing him as suspicious, in that his mental stability is suffering.

Woke up from few minutes' sleep by hearing a cry, seemingly outside my port. Could see nothing in fog. Rushed on deck, and ran against mate. Tells me heard cry and ran, but no sign of man on watch. One more gone. Lord, help us! Mate says we must be past Straits of Dover, as in a moment of fog lifting he saw North Foreland, just as he heard the man cry out.

2 August

Sure, there's no one else to do it. But it must feel suspicious that suddenly the mate is the one delivering all information. Once again, he's the one delivering news of another death he's been just too late to prevent. He's the only one who knows where they are in the fog, and the news he delivers isn't welcome. If the Captain has been harboring any suspicions at all, or even if he's just beginning to do so, all of this timing can be recontextualized to make the mate seem very suspicious.

Of course, we readers know that his story must be the truth. The mate has finally admitted what must be going on to himself, and yet he doesn't understand how, nor has he been able to do anything at all to prevent it. The futility and fear is driving him mad. Which brings us back to today...

I dared not leave it, so shouted for the mate. After a few seconds he rushed up on deck in his flannels. He looked wild-eyed and haggard, and I greatly fear his reason has given way. [...] He came close to me and whispered hoarsely, with his mouth to my ear, as though fearing the very air might hear: "It is here; I know it, now. On the watch last night I saw It, like a man, tall and thin, and ghastly pale. It was in the bows, and looking out. I crept behind It, and gave It my knife; but the knife went through It, empty as the air." And as he spoke he took his knife and drove it savagely into space. Then he went on: "But It is here, and I'll find It. It is in the hold, perhaps in one of those boxes. I'll unscrew them one by one and see. You work the helm." [...] "Save me! save me!" he cried, and then looked round on the blanket of fog. His horror turned to despair, and in a steady voice he said: "You had better come too, captain, before it is too late. He is there. I know the secret now. The sea will save me from Him, and it is all that is left!"

3 August

The Captain finally openly admits his suspicions. That, or perhaps he was denying them to himself all along, and only after seeing the mate's latest reaction did he think back over the earlier journey. He's got time to do so while stuck at the helm, after all. Even now he still hopes that the exertion will calm the mate down to a point where he can be reasoned with, until finally his return from the hold - and immediate suicide - put paid to that notion. And yet, the guilt must be even stronger because even lost in his violent delusion (as the Captain sees it), the mate never tries to hurt the Captain, and even tries to tell him how to 'save' himself. It suggests a kind of connection, maybe a friendship, that makes the Captain's conclusion about the mate's guilt all the sadder. Not only is it his responsibility as the captain to protect his crew, but as the only person who the mate doesn't want to hurt/possibly who really knew him he should have been able to see what was going on and stop it. None of that is reasonable really, he's absolutely been doing his best, but I think it could be how he might feel about it.

Meanwhile, we see that the mate tried to kill the vampire once already. In reading back over these entries, I think I've realized something. The mate has internally admitted the possibility of a vampire for several days now, though he hasn't spoken to anyone else. He saw it the last night, and was unable to stop it in time to save his crewmate, but finally was determined to act against it at all costs. It, still. He crept up from behind, he didn't get a good look. It's not until today that he finally 'knows the secret'. It's not until today that he understands "He is there." I think the final straw for the mate may have been his discovery, when unscrewing the boxes, that this isn't just any vampire. This is Count Dracula. It's Him. The vampire. And the mate screams, flees in fear, despairs, gives up on any plan of fighting at all - knowing that this is not a fight he could ever win. Instead he flings himself into the water. After all, in its depths a man can sleep -- as a man.

[yallemagne]

For the first time... Mina doubts the effortless confidence in her marriage.

Mina has expressed before that she keeps her journal to share with Jonathan.

It seems only yesterday that the last entry was made, and yet how much between then, in Whitby and all the world before me... Some day he may ask me about it. Down it all goes.

She restarted her journal knowing Jonathan might inquire about the foggy time in his memory when he was sick and so much was going on around them.

Well, some day Jonathan will tell me all; and lest it should ever be that he should think for a moment that I kept anything from him, I still keep my journal as usual. Then if he has feared of my trust I shall show it to him, with every thought of my heart put down for his dear eyes to read.

But today, she writes so Jonathan will not suspect that she is keeping anything from him. When has she ever worried that Jonathan would doubt her? Certainly not when she was meeting with unmarried men alone and staying over at one's house. Nope. No worry of doubt or perhaps jealousy then. Not until now, when their honest and trustful marriage is being challenged by Van Helsing's stubborn insistence on secrecy.

Oh, why did I ever go to Whitby? There now, crying again! I wonder what has come over me to-day. I must hide it from Jonathan, for if he knew that I had been crying twice in one morning—I, who never cried on my own account, and whom he has never caused to shed a tear—the dear fellow would fret his heart out. I shall put a bold face on, and if I do feel weepy, he shall never see it. I suppose it is one of the lessons that we poor women have to learn....

What good does keeping her feelings a secret from him until "the right time" do him? When that time comes, wouldn't it hurt more for Jonathan to find out that as he and the men went gallivanting like fools into the night, she was hurting and blaming herself fully for Lucy's death, and he wasn't there to comfort her? Perhaps, she counts on Jonathan simply never inquiring after her. Perhaps, she is hoping that he will follow the other men's example and worry more about themselves and their grief than ever give a thought to hers.

Mina records an experience that is almost beat-for-beat Jonathan's encounter with the Weird Sisters AND Lucy's recall of her assaulter's eyes. And she just. She just writes it all off as a dream. Why? Because if what happened was real, then that means she's at risk of worrying the men!

I must be careful of such dreams, for they would unseat one's reason if there were too much of them. I would get Dr. Van Helsing or Dr. Seward to prescribe something for me which would make me sleep, only that I fear to alarm them. Such a dream at the present time would become woven into their fears for me.

That would be a good thing, Mina! They should be fearing for you! VH has been preaching up and down about how he's put you in this precarious position for your own good, and if you would only reach out and inform him that you are being hurt because of his negligence, you could catch Dracula in the goddamn act! If VH's going to use your safety as an excuse, he better stand by that and start actually fucking protecting you.

But he is not actually concerned with her safety in any meaningful way, just how he can use her womanliness to rally the men along!! And Mina understands this best of all. What matters most to her and VH is that the men think she's safe. Who cares if the vampire is feeding off of her?! All that matters is that no man's feelings get hurt.