#she knows how to shape a piece of dialogue PERFECTLY

[darling-the-show-goes-on]

Vanessa Redgrave & Jeremy Brett as Katherine Mansfield and Jack Murry in A Picture of Katherine Mansfield (1973)

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (3)

Part Three

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, no smut, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Masterlist

Terry stood in the large living room, looking at himself in the full body mirror as he tightened his tie. He stared at this version of himself for a long minute. He wasn’t the tuxedo wearing type but he had to admit it didn’t look bad on him. 

Khloé had managed to hire the perfect tailor to be sure the tux would fit just right. Terry spent hours being measured, trying on different jackets and pants, and walking back and forth to ensure comfort while wearing the tux. 

She was there for every moment of it, taking him in each time he removed a shirt and replaced it with a different one. She noticed the scar on his back near his right shoulder. She wanted so badly to ask him about being shot but she decided not to. She assumed that would be too much of a sensitive subject and she didn’t want to go that route.  

Terry looked down at his watch, a simple black watch that had to be approved by Khloé of course. He was big on being punctual as well, so he made sure to keep up with time even when Khloé wasn’t. 

“Your car is down stairs, everything is set and ready to go.” Olivia said, walking into the living room. 

Terry turned to face her unsure of who she was talking to. 

“I’m driving?” 

“Yes sir, a luxury sedan has been rented for the evening. Ms. MacArthur prefers not to have drivers, she’s very strict on privacy.” Olivia spoke quickly. “The destination is already in the GPS for you. The directions will begin as soon as you pull off.” 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and proceeded to take a seat on the large sectional sofa. He looked down at his phone, reading the messages that were pouring in from Summer. 

‘A $16,000 check just came in the mail, I know you had something to do with it!!’

‘I can’t accept this, how am I going to pay it back?’ 

‘This is too good to be true, call me as soon as you can!’ 

He was so focused on the text messages, he didn’t notice Khloé enter the room until the scent of soft florals hit his nostrils.  

“How do I look?” She asked, staring at him, a bit of innocence in her voice. 

He eyed her, starting from her feet and making his way up to the crown of her head. The long red dress she wore accentuated her hips and brought in her waist. The details were subtle but didn’t go unnoticed by Terry. The strapless dress lifted her breasts, bringing out the natural shape of them. Her hair was pinned in a beautiful updo with a few pieces framing her face, a soft curl in each. And to top it all off her signature red lip, which was clearly her favorite… and his. 

The longer he stared, the more she felt herself wanting to shrink a bit but she did her best to remain unmoved. He hardly ever wore his emotions on his sleeve so reading him was becoming a bit of a challenge for her. The nervous feeling quickly began to fade as she saw his expression soften. 

“You look beautiful.” He stood. “Red fits you perfectly.” 

She smiled at him. 

“Well let’s go, I really don’t wanna be late.” She said, grabbing her small clutch purse. “My mother won’t let me hear the last of it.” 

They headed to the lobby of the condominium. As they passed through, they earned a few stares. People couldn’t help but to turn their attention to the two of them. Khloé strutting across the floor, Terry not too far behind her. They both had very demanding auras and together their energies swarmed the room without warning. 

“I have a question.” Terry said. 

“Ask.” 

“Is this something I need to get used to?” Terry questioned, referring to the looks they received a while ago. 

“Absolutely.” She smiled up at him. 

Their car was parked in front, a young man wearing a valet jacket stood by to be sure the car went untouched. The glossy black sedan sat already running, headlights shining bright. 

Without her needing to say anything, Terry walked ahead of her and opened the passenger door, waiting for her to climb in. 

“Ooh,” She started. “Keep it up and you might earn yourself a treat.” 

Terry smirked, trying his hardest to hide his amusement. He got into the driver's seat and adjusted the seat to his liking, scooting it back until he had the proper leg room. 

“A few things I need to go over before we get there.” She began. “If anyone asks where we met, we met on vacation.” 

“How long have we been together?” He asked, putting the gear in drive and pulling off. 

“6 months. Tell them you’re in real estate. They’re gonna wanna know if you make enough money to be with me.” 

He looked over at her as they approached a red light. 

“My family only sees money, they believe that’s the only thing that’ll keep me happy. They don’t care about love or any emotions for that matter. As long as the money flows, they will mind their damn business.” She said looking over at him. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds until the bright traffic light went green. Khloé went on to tell him how he should go about speaking to her parents, what to say and what to do. She filled him in on the latest drama with her siblings and her cousins and made sure to tell him who to look out for and who to avoid at all costs. 

“Anything else I should know?” 

“Lastly, my cousin Nia. She’s a bitch. I hate her, she hates me. She’s been in competition with me since we were teenagers. I get a car, she gets a car, I get a diamond bracelet, she gets a diamond bracelet, I go to Harvard, bitch breaks her neck to go to Yale.” She pointed a stern finger to him. “You can mingle with anyone at the banquet but stay away from that sneaky bitch.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

The car ride the rest of the way was silent but the tension was impossible to ignore. Every now and then Khloé would sneak glances over at Terry while he drove, one hand on the wheel the other on his lap. She stared at his hands imagining what they’d feel like inside of her. Images of him playing in her pussy while he drove began flashing in her mind and she quickly tore her gaze from him.

He could feel her eyes on him but his expression never changed. If there was one thing he’d taken away from being a marine, it was keeping his poker face intact. There was no way she’d know what he was really thinking unless he decided to let it be known.  

“You have reached your destination.” 

They pulled up in front of the large banquet hall surrounded by guests and valet. Finally coming back into reality Khloé took a deep breath before exiting the car. 

“I got it.” Terry said, before she could grab the door handle. 

Khloé smiled to herself. ‘This one comes trained.’

He rounded the car and opened her door, placing his hand out for her to grab. She stepped out of the car and smiled at some of the guests who were entering the banquet the same time as her. 

“Ready?” She asked. 

“Ready.” 

They reached for each other's hands simultaneously, intertwining their fingers as they made their way into the building. The sound of soft music playing in the background filled their ears, along with light chatter from guests. 

They stopped at the double doors that were propped open, leading into the ballroom. Turning to him, she began fixing his tie, not that it needed fixing but to simply try and cover her nervousness. She tightened his tie, dusted his shoulders and tugged lightly on his collar. 

“I make you that nervous?” Terry smirked, staring down at her. 

“As pretty as your lips are, they're gonna keep you in trouble.” She smirked back. “Let’s enjoy the banquet.” 

Khloe held onto his arm as they entered the large ballroom. Each table was draped in white cloth, expensive tableware and champagne flutes. A large banner with the words “MacArthur Banquet” hung from the ceiling just above the small stage in the room. Khloé looked around the room taking in her surroundings. Unlike Terry, Khloé didn’t do that good of a job at hiding her emotions. 

She worried about what her parents' would think of her date. She’d hoped and prayed they wouldn’t go digging into his background to find out that not only is he a warehouse worker but that he’s also a bit of a rebel. 

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur announced, snapping her of her thoughts. 

“Hi Daddy!” She ran to him, giving him a hug as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. 

She greeted the woman standing next to him, placing a kiss on her cheek as well. Terry stood, admiring how they embraced each other. It was clear to him that this was her mother, the woman was a spitting image of Khloé just a bit older. 

“It’s so good to see you, you look so beautiful.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled, holding onto her daughter's hand. 

Her father tore his eyes from her and they landed on Terry. “Who is this?” 

“Mom, Dad, this is Terrance.” Khloé stepped back to stand next to Terry, placing a hand on his arm. 

“Terrance this is my dad, John MacArthur and my mom Angela MacArthur.” 

“You got a last name Terrance?” Mr. MacArthur asked, placing his hand out for Terry to shake. 

“Terrance Richmond sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Terry responded, firmly shaking the man’s hand and then her mothers. 

“The pleasure is ours. It’s good to see she has someone keeping her company. I just hope you’re a strong and patient man, my Khloé can be a handful at times.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled up at him. She turned her gaze to her daughter, bringing her into another embrace. “Don’t screw this one over, okay? You don’t want to be old and alone.” 

Khloé clenched her jaw before replacing the menacing look with a fake grin. Mr. MacArthur and Mrs. MacArthur excused themselves from the two as they made their way around the room, greeting guests as they entered. 

Terry noticed the sudden change in Khloés expression no matter how hard she tried to disguise it. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“I’m fine.” She responded, running her hands down the length of her dress. “Let’s have a seat, they’re about to begin.” 

The family banquet began with greetings from Mr. and Mrs. MacArthur. The couple stood on stage thanking guests for joining them for another banquet and proceeded with their usual program. 

The banquet was yet another success as it had been for the past few years. There were small awards and acknowledgments being made all evening. From praises for large sales, increasing income and openings of new locations for the family business, the banquet had gone exactly as planned. 

However Terry couldn’t help but sense Khloés tense energy. It didn’t help that she had become a bit fidgety. Fixing her hair every 10 minutes, wiping invisible lent from his jacket and plastering an artificial smile on her face each time she would interact with the other guests. 

It wasn’t necessarily Terry's place to ask her about her relationship with her parents but he was very curious. He tried his hardest to remind himself of why he was even there to begin with. 

‘I’m doing her a favor, she’s doing me a favor.’ 

“I’m gonna go catch up with a few people, you’ll be alright by yourself won’t you?” She asked. 

“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine.” He replied, taking a sip of water. 

“Stop testing me Mr. Richmond.” She warned, referring to his smart comment. 

He smiled, placing his glass back on the table. 

Khloé got up and made her way around the room for a bit, grabbing glasses of champagne as they were being offered to her. She mingled with family and friends, sharing memories of the past and hopes of the future. After a few glasses, she was really feeling the effects of the alcohol. A sudden boost of confidence washed over her, bringing her right back to her normal self. 

Remembering she had the finest gentleman in the room as her date, she wanted to make sure she was attending to him. She looked over to their table, hoping his eyes were already on her. Her excitement quickly faded once she noticed who he was talking to. 

“Excuse me, I hope I’m not being too forward but you are so handsome.” A woman said, causing Terry to look her way. 

She was tall, slim and snatched like a supermodel. She was a pretty woman but her style clashed with her looks. She wore a royal blue dress, bright gold accessories and red lipstick. Almost similar to Khloés but not quite. 

“Thank you.” He smiled humbly. 

“I’m Imani, I’m Khloés older cousin.” She held out her hand, palm facing down as if she was waiting for him to kiss it. 

He stared at it for a few seconds and decided to shake it instead. 

“Nice to meet you Imani, I’m Terrance.”

Imani laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Respecting your girlfriend I see, but I understand. I’m sure if she found out I was talking to you she’d lose her shit. She’s been in a silent competition with me since we were kids but she’s my little cousin so I’m flattered.” 

Terry nodded, allowing the woman to speak freely simply because he wasn’t interested in speaking to her at all. There was just something about her energy that wasn’t sitting right with him but he didn’t want to be entirely rude to her. After all, he was a guest at her family’s event. 

“Oops, I should go, she’s staring. Don’t wanna get you in any trouble. Enjoy the night handsome.” She said flipping her ponytail off of her shoulder and twisting her hips as hard as she could hoping he was watching. 

But his eyes met Khloés from across the room. She didn’t necessarily look pissed but she didn’t look too happy either. The look on her face was stern almost as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. He quickly recalled the name of the person he was told not to mingle with. 

‘Nia.’ He thought to himself, shrugging because he was in the clear. 

He relaxed in his chair, sitting back and parting his legs from one another but she still hadn’t broken their gaze. It was as if they were communicating with one another without needing to say anything at all.

After a few moments, she smiled and made her way across the room to him.   

“Dance with me Mr. Richmond.” She stated, staring down at him through a tipsy gaze. 

Terry stood as she grabbed his hand and led them to the small dance floor. They joined a few other guests on the floor as well. Some were relatives of Khloés, others just friends of the family. 

Once they reached a secure spot, they embraced each other. Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, silently thanking herself for wearing heels given his height. Terry’s hands snaked around her waist and they slowly swayed to the soft music. The longer they danced, the more Terry could feel Khloé slowly relaxing in his embrace. 

They rested their heads against the others, her forehead comfortable against this jaw. 

“Can I be honest with you?” Khloé asked.

“Of course.” 

“I didn’t tell you the full reason as to why I offered you the money to be my boyfriend.” She started. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“I mean yes I need you for events and to keep my family quiet but…” Her voice faded. 

“But?” 

She took a deep breath and told him all that he needed to know. 

“The truth is I want you in the worst way.”

She felt his jaw clench against her temple as she spoke.

“The moment I saw you, the things I began to see in my mind were so… vivid.” 

“What did you see?” He questioned, keeping his voice as low as possible. 

Khloés breath caught in her throat at his question. She thought her honesty would tear him from her. Her admitting that she was simply lusting after him should’ve bothered him but instead he leaned into it. 

“I imagined the view I’d have of you, from down on my knees. I imagined how much fun I would have edging you until you begged me to let you cum. I saw myself tying you to the bed and riding you for as long as I wanted.” 

Terry’s jaw clenched once more but he remained silent, still holding onto her waist.  

“You’d cum again and again and again.” The longer she spoke, the easier it was becoming to speak freely. 

She looked around the room to be sure no one was paying them any attention and she was right. They continued to sway back and forth to the soft music being played by the live band. She could feel his heartbeat increase as she held onto him. His breathing was steady but the rest of him was rising. 

“I felt bad at first because you seemed like a sweet and innocent guy. But in all honesty, I enjoy dominating men.” She admitted. “Not just any men but the ones who reek of dominance, men like you. The ones who walk around so unbothered, so unfazed. Always wearing a straight face because nothing can sway you. But I know you want to feel my lips around your dick. That’s why you get so stuck in a daze staring at them while I’m talking to you.” She spoke, her lips gently brushing against his neck.

Terry let out a deep breath but still remained silent. There was no need in denying any of what she was saying because all of it was true. 

“You know what I love the most about the male anatomy? It’s that no matter how much you try to hide it, no matter how still your expression is, I’ll always know how bad you want me.” She brought her hand to the back of his head and lowered it so her lips were level with his ear. 

“I can feel you through my dress.” She whispered. 

Terry tightened the hold he had on her waist, bringing her even closer to him. He was hoping that no one else would notice the “excitement” that she was feeling. Deep down, he wanted so desperately to drag her off the dance floor and find the nearest bathroom or utility closet, but he was at her command. He wouldn’t move until she gave the green light to do so. 

“Why are you so quiet Mr. Richmond, cat got your tongue?” She teased. 

“No ma’am, I just don’t have a lot to say right now. Only a couple of things I wanna do.” 

She giggled at his response. She had him exactly where she wanted him, craving her but unable to do anything about it. They were in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by dozens of people, there was no way he’d do anything to draw attention to the two of them. 

“I was looking forward to tasting you tonight but your behavior needs adjusting.”

Terry stood up straight, bringing his eyes to meet hers. 

“What’s wrong with my behavior?” He asked, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers. 

Before Khloé could respond, her mothers voice erupted through the speakers. Khloé turned to face the stage, pressing her back against his abdomen. She figured since she was the cause for his excitement the least she could do was help him conceal it. 

“Thank you all so much for another successful MacArthur banquet! Congratulations to all of the recipients of tonight’s awards.” Mrs. MacArthur spoke into the mic. “We love to see our family and friends grow in business, in love and in prosperity as the years go by.” 

Everyone applauded as she made her closing announcements. 

“Don’t forget to grab a goodie bag on the way out and please drive home safely. We will see you all next year, goodnight and God bless!” 

Khloé turned to grab her things from their table, she said her goodbyes to her family and made her way to the car. Terry was right behind her, replaying the night in his mind. He did just as he was told, interacting with little to no guests and speaking when spoken to. So what was she talking about?

“Do you have the ticket for valet?” Khloé asked him a bit nonchalantly. 

Terry dug into his pocket and handed the ticket to the man dressed in a red jacket. Within a few minutes their car was pulled to the front of the hall. Terry opened the door for her and then made his way to the driver's side. 

“What was wrong with my behavior tonight?” Terry asked, looking over at her. 

“Just drive please.” She spoke softly, not even bothering to look over at him. 

Terry took a deep breath before pulling away from the curb. They made their way back into the streets of downtown. The ride was silent once again. Terry was racking his brain trying to figure out what she was talking about but nothing was coming to the surface. Khloé sat quietly, not planning on telling him what he did wrong until they were back at her place. 

“You have reached your destination.” 

Terry unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car. A few seconds later, he opened Khloés door and waited for her to step out. He handed the keys to the valet and they made their way into the building. Khloé walked a few feet ahead of him, enjoying the feeling of having this grown man following behind her everywhere she went. 

Khloé pressed the button to call the elevator and stepped inside once the doors opened. Terry pressed the button marked ‘30’ and they sat silently for the majority of the ride up to her condo. 

“When we get upstairs, take off your jacket and dress shirt and wait for me in the living room.” Khloé instructed, keeping her eyes forward. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“30th floor” 

The two made their way down the long hall and entered her home. Terry did as he was asked and placed his clothes on the arm of the couch. He took a seat, only dressed in his undershirt and pants. While Khloé was off in her room, he took this time to respond to Summers' messages letting her know that he’d be by to explain everything to her. 

Khloé stepped into her bathroom to remove her dress. She wore a black panty and bra set underneath, already prepared for the night. She grabbed her black satin robe and slipped into it, not bothering to remove her heels. Taking one last look in the mirror to be sure she looked good, she made her way into the living room. 

“Stand when I enter the room.” She spoke, causing Terry’s head to snap up. 

He stood from the couch and eyed her from head to toe. Her body was heavent sent. Decorated in lace fabric, her skin slightly glistened from the mixture of body shimmer and the soft lighting in the room. His dick began growing in his pants again as she stood there staring at him. 

“Come.” She said, pointing her finger to a spot directly in front of her. 

Terry walked around the small coffee table, slowly approaching her until the top of their shoes were almost touching. She loved that he towered over her even in her heels. As intimidating as he could be at times, she enjoyed the fact that she was the one truly in charge.  

“Before I start, you do get a say in this, I’m not a completely inconsiderate bitch.” She started. “If you don’t want to do this just say so and I’ll call it off.” 

“Did you hear me say that?” He asked. There was that smart ass mouth again. 

Khloé smirked at his question. “I need your consent Mr. Richmond.” 

“You have my consent Ms. MacArthur.” He stared down at her with a sly grin on his face. 

“You’re familiar with these right?” Khloé held up a pair of handcuffs, loosely dangling off of her fingers. 

Terry let out a light chuckle, still keeping his eyes on hers. 

“Turn around.” She instructed. 

Terry did as he was told. 

This was the first time she was seeing him nearly undressed, up close like this. Her eyes roamed from his freshly cut hair, down to the back of his neck and landed on his broad shoulders. She licked her lips as her eyes continued down the length of his toned arms, and finally landed on his ass. She held her breath as she tried to restrain herself from saying “fuck it” and pouncing on him. 

“You gone spank me for being a bad boy?” He joked sarcastically, bringing her back to the present. 

“You’re not funny. Besides I don’t like to cause pain, at least not in that way.” She answered, placing the cuffs around his wrists and clicking them closed. She grabbed his arm and walked him to the end of the sofa. She turned him round until he faced her and took a few steps back. 

They stared at each other for a while. There was no need to speak because the amount of hunger in the room from both parties spoke volumes. Terry stood tall, hands behind his back, eyes low and rested on hers. The wifebeater he wore almost clung to him the way his toned body filled the thin fabric. Terry waited patiently for her next command, his expression remaining as calm as ever. 

The only sound in the room was their breathing. Khloé stood there secretly hoping that this would be her last partner or simply one that could last her a very long time. She doubted that she’d ever come across someone else who was crafted as perfectly as he was. His body, his voice, his eyes, his whole damn face and especially those damn lips. She only hoped that his skills in bed matched his looks. 

“On your knees.” 

to be continued… 

[aimbutmiss]

Buggy stared at the stone wall in front of him with wonder and curiosity, as if the mysterious box-shaped rock held the secrets to life itself.

It probably did. At least a fragment of it.

“Fascinating, isn’t it? The ancient language.”

Buggy stopped his deep staring to turn to the tall man beside him. “It looks beautiful.”

Oden smiled at him. “Couldn’t agree more, Buggyjiro. What’s interesting about the writing system here is that it doesn't display the phonetics alone. The order of symbols and the way they’re connected also dictates the grammar…”

Buggy listened to the enthusiastic man talk about the writing in front of them, explaining and translating as he went. Maybe he was trying to pass down at least bits of the forgotten yet ever important language to him, or he was just really passionate about the poneglyphs. Either way, Buggy took every little piece of information that fell from Oden’s mouth as if it was a sacred treasure.

He stopped his little lecture as little Hiyori walked –more like stumbled, up to the stele and touched the surface with her tiny hand, babbling passionately. Though neither of them could understand what the little girl was trying to convey, they listened intently as if every little noise out of her made perfect sense.

“Is this one causing you two any trouble?”

Toki came over to them, walking in small steps as usual, and picked up the still bubbling Hiyori in her arms.

“Oh, not at all. She’s a clever girl, like her mom.” Oden said, making his wife giggle.

The samurai looked at them as if they were the most valuable treasure in the whole wide world. It warmed Buggy’s insides, yet there was a pang in his heart. Family. Something he longed to have for himself down the line, but he didn’t know if he could ever have it. He was pulled out of his thoughts when a strong hand squeezed his shoulder.

“I can tell you’re deep in thought. It’s good to think, but you need to learn when to get out of your own head, Buggy.”

Buggy looked up to his captain, not understanding when the man had even walked up to them. He hadn’t heard anything when he was approaching.

“Sorry. A lot to think about, though.”

“Hm, indeed. But you’re only 13. No need to think so hard at your age. Look at Shanks, he’s the master of not thinking.”

Buggy turned his head to watch Shanks run around the land, chasing a large snake around as he laughed without worry. Buggy grimaced. “That would be because he’s an idiot.”

Roger laughed. “That’s not such a bad thing in this world. If anything, you’re the one who’s too clever.”

“And that’s bad?”

“No, not quite. I just worry that’s all.”

Before Buggy could ask him to elaborate, the man abandoned the subject as he turned to Oden.

“You think you can leave a message in my steed on here? To let the future generations know that I was here.”

Oden laughed loudly, as he did most things. “Of course, Captain. That is if you can find anything that would dent this stone.”

Roger laughed back. “Who said anything about carving on the poneglyph, idiot? There’s no need, especially not when there’s a perfectly good gold surface next to it.”

That made Buggy smile. The captain was clever too, much clever than him, yet he couldn't see how that was a bad thing. If anything, he liked being clever because it made him more similar to the captain. They didn't look anything alike and he certainly didn't have his bravery. He'd like to have a trait of his to remember him by.

He frowned. Perhaps thinking too much was indeed not a good thing. He turned to the sacred bell of Shandora as the dialogue in the background became background noise; and though he was not raised to be religious, he prayed that he had a little more time with his dad captain.

[tinietaehyun]

Sanguine Lover

[Vampire!Soobin x Researcher!researcher] [Mystic Trail Series]

Pairing: Vampire!Soobin x Researcher!Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, comedy.

Contains: Profanity, bickering, dialogue-heavy, mentions of injury, blood, blood loss, self-inflicted suffering, deprivation, some mature themes.

Links: MYSTIC TRAIL MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Summary: You peer at your fellow researcher with slight suspicion. “Are you…okay?” He hums trying to avoid any eye contact with you. Sighing, you say, “You’re pale. Paler than usual I mean. Have you eaten? Had anything to drink?”

Soobin freezes, “What?” You scoff, “Blood, I mean?” The man seems to pale even more impossibly, “You know?” You start laughing, “Doesn’t everyone know?” You realise he’s not laughing with you. You murmur awkwardly, “Wait, is it not obvious?” Soobin murmurs, “It’s not supposed to be, yeah.” “Oh.”

—————————••••••••••••••————————

“With that being said, I hope you get settled in. This place is full of surprises, discoveries and much more! If you need any help, don’t be afraid to approach my office, alright?” The supervisor for this particular facility gleams brightly at you ending her long but sweet speech easing you into your transfer here. She was indeed extra happy.

You had to commend yourself honestly, you already scored a point with how much nicer this facility’s supervisor is compared to your previous facility (he was a piece of shit!) Thus, upon applying for a transfer, you were incredibly overjoyed to leave that pit of hell and come here to start fresh.

Here this research facility was responsible for numerous areas of research and study in relation to the mythological and supernatural. It was well reputed and known to produce outstanding findings. Hearing all this had made you extremely excited to start working here. You murmur at your supervisor, “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She cheerily waves.

With that you put on your ID card and and begin walking towards your assigned room. You peer at the sleek white walls with the tiny bolts in the walls. Your eyes glance through the various glass panels of the doors you pass by seeing chambers and various rooms where accomplished researchers and scholars write and type away. You promptly scan in at your workspace and the door slides open automatically making your brows raise.

You walk in to be greeted by the various judgemental stares of your soon to be colleagues. Your hands sweatily grip the strap of your bag. Refraining from shuddering, you tentatively walk in and walks around finding a place to sit amongst the sea of laptops, computers and tables. You’re in awe of the various shelves of books and archives at the back of the room. The sheer scale of everything so far had surpassed your expectations. Excitement was building up within you; you had hoped to develop yourself more and become a more accomplished scholar.

Your eyes widen as you finally spot a nice nook and hope to keep to yourself here until you gain some courage to socialise with the other people here. From what it looks like most of these people also liked to keep to themselves with the way you note the ever so right boundaries of personal space and the quietness of the room being so resounding, that you could hear an ant walking.

You turn the corner and to your surprise you spot a lanky figure sat at the end of the table. At first you’re almost startled but it appears he becomes more startled of you when you turn the corner. “Oh-!” You stammer, peering closely at him.

The male had ebony locks of hair sprawled over his forehead and dark piercing eyes. His gaze was a mixture of surprise and annoyance contrasting his sharp eye shape. His perfect nose bridge glistens under the bright white lighting and not to mention his rose-petal lips, so perfectly luscious.

“Excuse me?” He cuts in timidly. You stiffen. Oh shit! You were caught staring at this fine man. He was just ever so pretty! His features were sharp and enticing, accompanied with the low timbre of voice, ever so slightly husky but soft toned. Oh, he was checking off all the right boxes! You murmur awkwardly, “Ah sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was wondering, is it alright to sit here? Not next to you I mean; across.”

He hesitates for a moment; even the way his bottom lip forms a subtle pout makes you want to squeal. How adorable! You didn’t know there’d be anyone worth looking at here in this lab! A cute colleague, this just made things all the better. He mumbles going back to his work, “Sure.” You settle down two chairs away from him and begin to slide out your laptop and begin to work.

Peering around, you notice the casual hum of the air conditioning and the serious expressions of those around you. People were much more put together and less social here. Perhaps that was a benefit in its own right. You find your gaze peering back to the male beside you and to your surprise he’s staring back at you. Flushed, he suddenly averts his gaze and your eyes widen feeling your own face warm up.

You decide to take a chance and hum, “May I ask what you’re working on? If that’s okay?” He peers up at you startled and he murmurs, “Oh, uh…well I’m currently looking at a thesis on the elves physiological responses to danger.”

Your brow arch and you quirk, “Oh! Yes, I studied elves as part of my main dissertation. The physiological responses are rather fascinating.” He peers at you for a moment, “Ah, yes. Elves are relatively new for me, in terms of subject field. I’m more knowledgeable on…vampires, sirens and griffins.”

You nod impressed, “Ah, now that we’re talking, how about introductions? Hi, I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve just transferred from the Seoul facility.” He stiffens slightly, “Oh…that facility isn’t all that great. I’m not surprised you got out of there.”

You grin, “Why? You have experience with that miserable place?” He shudders making you chuckle, “Ah, believe me. It was a terrible experience for me there. Here….it’s better. Much better.” He seems to have a particular gleam in his eyes, suggesting that he’s been through something there. It makes you intrigued but you refrain from pushing forward, so early on.

“Oh right, my turn. My name is…Soobin. I’ve worked at this facility for over a year. Yeah…I guess that’s it. I do research, I suppose.” You hum awkwardly, “Nice to meet you. I hope I’m not annoying you or anything. You seemed immersed in your work.” He places a hand on the back of his neck, “Oh that…don’t worry. I always seem lost in thought. It’s a habit of mine. I overwork sometimes to keep my mind off…things.”

You hum in agreement, “I suppose being productive is the best way to stimulate the mind. Nothing wrong with that. Best not to bottle things up always though.” He releases a curt chuckle, “Ah…right, right. Of course.” The air becomes silent again as you both have nothing to continue the conversation with.

To be honest, you were just glad you could begin to get to know this handsome guy! For once you managed to keep your social ineptness to the side and make a move (albeit very small!). You both resume working on your individual tasks with the occasional glances over and awkward smiles exchanged.

You peer at his flawless skin- pale in colour almost like porcelain but flesh. Was he naturally this pale? I suppose you’d seen people like this before. It contrasted his raven hair significantly. Surely…he looked too perfect. Almost inhumanely so. You’d heard of a few places beginning to take on the more humanoid supernatural beings as part of a inclusivity scheme. Perhaps…? As you continue to peer at him he abruptly stands up rushing out taking his bag with him. What just happened?

You look at his empty seat with a confused expression. He’d left his laptop open and the rest of his stuff here. That meant he’d be coming back right? He was already pale, maybe you should check on him? With a moment of hesitation, you stand up and walk out of the double doors with a worried expression coating your features. You walk around the hallway attempting to find him before you hear some clatter right at the end of the hallway. With that, you curiously walk over.

The end of the hallway encompasses a metal stairway leading up to the next floor and you timidly peek over. Your eyes widen at the sight before you. Soobin tilts his head back as he squeezes the life out of what seems to be a blood bag. His eyes darker than before and his lips stained with blood. His fingers squeeze on the thick lining of the bag trying to get every last drop. Your eyes scan his fangs that glimmer under the light.

Immediately you twist yourself around and walk back quickly down the hallway into your assigned work room and back into your seat. Stunned, that’s what you could describe your feelings as. You’ve always been interested in vampire, watched a lot of media related to vampires. Vampirism was something that had always intrigued you but somehow you never pursued it as a line of study. Perhaps because elves had caught your eye around the second year of your degree.

This was insane! Your fellow colleague was a vampire. A gorgeous one at that! He didn’t seem to act like one act all, then again you didn’t want to make assumptions. You’d never met one before, you only knew them to be rather alluring, seductive even. They could pass as humans easily without detection in most cases.

As you type away thrilled at this new prospect, you spot Soobin approaching with a disgruntled expression. He sits back done nonchalant but with a hint of dissatisfaction on his features. You ponder; was he drinking human blood? He peers at you for a moment before resuming his work. Staring at him, you hum, “Are you okay, Soobin? You kinda rushed-“ “Yeah, yeah. No need to worry. I just thought I needed to throw up, I’ve been feeling kinda nauseous recently. Perhaps need to change up my health habits.” He curtly cuts in.

Perhaps it’s best not to talk to him about it. Maybe that’s why everyone in this facility kept to themselves. You frown, you hope that they weren’t isolating him. He seemed so nice? Your eyes are drawn back to Soobin. He is indeed handsome, even his look of concentration is endearing.

Upon this realisation, it had made you more excited to come into work each day. You alternated between working on your laptop filling out reports, helping senior researchers or being in the lab for majority of the time- testing samples. A week passes as you and Soobin chatter and wave at each other whenever you pass by. He seemed to be rather reserved.

The other scholars seemed to treat him as normal. Huh, it must just be common knowledge here. You observe Soobin assisting another researcher with a sample and can’t help but admire how dashing he looks in his white lab coat. Sighing you huff to yourself, “What a pretty boy..”

He approaches you as you write up the report for your colleague. “You done?” You peer at his expression. He seemed even more impossibly pale; tired even. Nodding you murmur, “Yeah, just got to get it photocopied. You?” He hums, “Yeah, it was a fascinating griffin sample. Soyeon will be doing the write up.” You nod in response as your brows furrow, “Are you okay, you’ve been off today?”

He stiffens as he peers at you without a word. Soobin mutters, “I’m fine. I’ve barely been getting sleep.” You had to refrain from interrupting. Did vampires really need sleep to function? You swear you read one article insisting that it wasn’t vital for them? You mumble, “Oh? You thinking about anything?” Soobin shakes his head giving you a small smile, “Ah, I guess. Got…a lot on my mind lately. Lots of…thoughts.”

Sighing, “I feel that feeling for sure. I’m here to talk you know? You have my number saved right?” He nods giving you an embarrassed expression. A small laugh escapes your lips, “You’re so endearing.” Soobin scoffs removing his lab coat as you remove yours, “I’m not endearing.” Chuckling, you hum, “Oh? But everything you seem to do suggests otherwise. It’s odd actually.”

“What’s odd?” He enquires with a huff. You shake your head with a smile; you didn’t want to push him to reveal himself. Soobin would probably tell you when he felt ready.

As you hang up the lab coat, you yelp as another researcher shoves past you and you stumble into Soobin. He places his hands on your arms to steady you and your nostrils fill with the scent of his addictive cologne. You mutter, “Fucking hell, people here are rude.”

Soobin is stiff as he hold you and you peer up wide eyed, “Hey? Soobin? I’m steady now.” He removes his arms in a flash and murmurs a small ‘Ah sorry.’ Goodness, he looked sickly now. What was happening to him? “Hey let’s grab some fresh air.” You walk ahead and he timidly follows you. You both reach an open area of the facility filled to the brim with plants and access to the breeze.

Soobin inhales deeply as if trying to keep himself under control. Your eyes widen, “Soobin? Your hands are shaking?” You rush over with concern lacing your visage. “A-Ah that.” Has he not had blood in a few days? But you saw him drinking blood on your first day?

You peer at your fellow researcher with slight suspicion. “Are you…okay?” He hums trying to avoid any eye contact with you. Sighing, you say, “You’re pale. Paler than usual I mean. Have you eaten? Had anything to drink?”

At this point you were going to rip the bandage off. You had to get to the bottom of this! Soobin freezes, “What?” You scoff, “Blood, I mean?” The man seems to pale even more impossibly, “You know?” You start laughing at his question, “Doesn’t everyone know?” A moment of silence passes. You realise he’s not laughing with you. You murmur awkwardly, “Wait, is it not obvious?” Soobin murmurs, “It’s not supposed to be, yeah.” You release an, “Oh.”

So it was not how you envisioned it. You thought everyone knew. You even had various theories in your head how he worked here. Clearly not- everything you thought went out the window! You awkwardly stammer, “Oh- I’m sorry. Was that insensitive of me? I thought everyone knew.” He darkly gazes at you. “How did you know?” His tone lowers drastically sending a shiver through you. Murmuring, you reply, “Okay, I’m gonna be transparent with you. On my first day, when we were in the library, you suddenly ran out right? I was concerned so I followed you out and…” Soobin sharply cuts in, “What. Did. You. See?”

Stiffly you respond, “What you’re thinking is what I saw. To be specific you drinking blood.” Soobin’s stare pierces into you; it was a sharp contrast to his usual soft nature. You tentatively mumble, “Sorry. I really am. I hadn’t expected to stumble upon that.”

“You acted so nonchalant about it? You treated me the same afterwards? Why? Are you planning to use me for your research? Are you luring me to become a test subject?” He snaps; annoyance painting his face.

His words cut into you and you realise the depths of his words. “Soobin I- I would never? You’re my colleague, no, more than that a friend!” He bitterly laughs, “A friend? That’s what they all say. They see nothing more than a specimen for their next paper. An abnormality.”

“Soobin? Who’s they? What are you talking about?” He peers at you in silence observing your concern and worry. He mutters, “Never mind. Just some past memories.”

You find your bottom lip trembling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to force you to tell me, I also thought everyone here knew. I didn’t want to treat you differently.” Soobin peers at you sighing, “Now that I realise it, I think you’re a bit too kind-hearted and slow to take advantage of me.”

Damn right you were. Wait- slow? You scoff, “Did you just call me stupid?” Soobin scoffs back, “Not stupid, slow. There’s a difference. You lack perception-“ Gawking at him, you yelp, “Uh? Excuse me, no one in this entire facility knows what you are- but my hunch was right! I think I’m plenty perceptive-“

Soobin snorts, “Our facility’s supervisor knows! She let me in and allows me to leave the lab as I please.” You raise a brow, “To feed?” Soobin grunts, “Yeah, to feed.”

He glares crossing his arms, “Anyway, don’t tell anyone. Otherwise…” You smirk, “Otherwise what? You can’t do shit. But yes, don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. I swear on my life.” Soobin rolls his eyes; his lips form a slight pout. “Are we okay now? I like hanging out with you. Having lunch together, working in the lab together. Don’t you?” You question frowning. Soobin huffs as he reluctantly murmurs, “You…you have no self preservation do you? Being friends with…me.”

“Do you not want me to?” Soobin hesitates, “I… I do. I’ve been lonely for a long time.”

Soobin murmurs, “I have a hard time trusting humans. The last facility I worked in, I was included as part of a inclusivity programme. Had a formal introduction and everything. It started off great but soon enough, I found out half of the people were avoiding me, the other half were just purely obsessive; like I was some sort of test subject. Some so called friends that I had there, attempted to use me for their thesis. With that, I left.”

You question, “Your last straw?” He hums, “You could say that. It’s not everything, just a gist of what I experienced.” You mumble, “Not surprised there’s such shitty people there. I worked there after all. A bunch of prissy white coat losers with no heart.” He snorts, “Accurate enough.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad time there. Is here any better?” He nods, “People here just keep to themselves. I also specifically requested to not let my identity be known.” You nod; that was understandable. “Sorry, for snapping at you earlier. It was just unexpected,” he mutters. You smile, “It’s okay. We’re good now?” He nods curtly.

An awkward silence passes but it’s less tense than before. You murmur, “I don’t want to be intrusive, but you keep leaving frequently. You look nauseous? Is…is it anything to do with…?” Soobin stiffens, “Right. Well, I guess there’s no point in trying to hide it anymore. You won’t be afraid of me right?” You shake your head.

“So…it’s my thirst. The need for blood.” You nod slowly, “Yes? What about it?” He hums hesitantly, “Well, I’ve been drinking animal blood from delivered blood bags. As deplorable as they taste, they’re enough to sustain me. Or so I thought.”Your brow raises, “You thought?”

“My health’s been on the decline ever since I switched over to animal blood. As much as vampire can get accustomed to animal blood…” Your mind whirrs and clicks, “You’re still reliant on human blood to be healthy.”

He nods quietly. “So…obviously my cravings have been getting worse. I even considered getting human blood bags but they’re insanely expensive.” You quirk, “Haven’t you lived for awhile? Shouldn’t you have amassed some wealth?” A vampire who’s not ridiculously rich, who’d have thought?

“I’m a young vampire and you’re right but the blood bags I want- I don’t want to take from the hospital, those are for transfusions. The ones I want are from a separate and underground business entirely.” You take a few moments to process his words before a stupidly bright smirk graces your face, “So what you’re saying is you want ethically sourced human blood at a good price?”

“Wipe that damn smirk off your face,” he huffs. “What’s so funny about that anyway?” You snicker, “It’s super sweet actually. You don’t want to hurt humans? You’re so caring!”

The young man peers at you with glimmering eyes and a frustrated expression- that of a toddler who just got their candy taken away. “You’re so mean,” he comments making you burst out laughing. He mutters to himself, “Constantly tempting me…and now this.”

You stiffen, “Soobin?” He huffs, “What? You want the raw truth, no?” You go quiet. He huffs, “You constantly being around me whilst my cravings are increasing, is just so…god…all my instincts drive me wild.” A shiver runs through your body as the rasp to his voice. “I just want to…” he sighs. “I don’t want to lose control but I don’t want to go back to feeding on random people. Your scent too…it’s fucking frustrating,” he vents startling you at his sudden profanity. Damn him and how attractive he was!

“It’s affecting your health,” you affirm. “I know. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” You roll your eyes groaning, “I swear it’s always ‘I’m fine’ and ‘don’t worry’ with you. You can talk to me and rely on me, Soobin!” He snorts, “What’s talking going to do about my cravings?” You pause for a moment and find your mind churning with various thoughts.

“Well…as a temporary solution…I’ve got an idea?” You blurt. Soobin deadpans at you, “Do you now, y/n? Let’s hear it, genius.”

Quietly you murmur, “You…could feed on..me?” Were you insane? Perhaps. In your eyes was it budget friendly and ethical (well you were offering first!)? On the one hand, you always wondered what it felt like to be bitten. Not that anyone should know that, of course.

Intense silence ensues with him looking at you with an expression of utter blankness. Embarrassment floods your face. “Did…I say something wrong?” He continues to stare at you with an expression reflecting both concern and confusion. “Are you…are you one of those types…?”

You stare at him blankly, “What do you mean?…”He flushes, “Are you into that kinda thing? Being bitten? Blood?” You feel the colour from your face drain in sheer embarrassment, “Oh.” “Is that a yes?” You snap, “No!”

You do suppose there was a reason why you had watched so much vampire media whilst growing up. “I just wanted to help,” You murmur stiffly. “By giving me your blood? Do you do that for everyone so casually?”

You proclaim in denial, “Well, no I don’t really meet vampires on a daily basis.” He stares blankly at you before he smiles almost as if he’s holding himself back from laughing. “I would think you wouldn’t. You want to give me your blood? Like…for free?” You hum with a mischievous tone, “I mean if you want me to charge you for it, I’d be happy to start naming prices-“

“No, no. Actually no need-“ he stammers making you cackle.

What an odd conversation. You hum, “I do mean it, you know. If you keep going at this rate, it’s gonna become fatal for you. You’re already on the brink. I’d also not rather you encounter blood lust.” He scoffs, “I maybe a young vampire, but I am not a new-born.” You hum, “I’ve studied enough to know what happens when vampires are deprived.” He remains silent.

Soobin’s mind blazes in thoughts before he finally responds, “In relation to your offer, I’ll have to decline.” You hum in surprise, “What? Why?”

“I know my health is on the line, but I can’t bring myself to do it. You…drinking from you feels wrong. You have a good heart y/n. I don’t want to take advantage of that, or put you at risk.” His tone is laced with a genuine gratefulness as he meets your gaze with a soft smile.

A sadness covers his face and he murmurs, “Anyway, I’ll be off. I’ll drink one of my sachets to satiate me for now. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, okay?” He walks past you in a hurry after giving you a small tap on your shoulder. You stand there frowning as your heart flutters. You suppose there’s not much else you could do. With that, you return back to your work space.

A few more days pass and you begin to grow more concerned about Soobin’s condition. A colleague murmurs, “Where’s Soobin? Did he take a day off? I remember yesterday he threw up. Is he alright?” You stiffen. He threw up? He didn’t tell you. Did he not come to work today? With that you press his name on your phone and call him in a panicked flurry. Indeed, he had missed out on work today. He explains how he felt particularly terrible today.

“This isn’t okay, Soobin. I’m being serious. You need human blood. You cannot be picky. Even if just a little,” You murmur. “I’m just going through a tough phase. I’m talking to a potential supplier, I’ll get the blood bags sorted soon. I’m sure of it,” he sighs weakly. You murmur tentatively, “My offer is still on the table.” Soobin’s breath hitches, “Don’t.”

The phone call resumes as the topic gets brushed aside. He comes into work the next day looking as if he got back from a vicious battle. You observe him throughout the morning; he’s excusing himself more often- what you assume is to feed.

You find yourself walking towards his usual spot he retreats to. Soobin is hunched over sinking his fangs into the crushed blood bag. The delirious slurping tells you all you need to know. He was on the brink of blood lust. You were worried; what if he hurt himself…or others?

His dark ebony eyes snap to meet yours and he rips his fangs away from the bag and he snaps, “What are you doing? Go back.” He eyes gaze over you as his breath hitches in his throat. His hands tremble and your heart rate shoots up. “It’s best if you l-leave, y/n. Listen to me,” he shakily heaves out. He was holding back.

You boldly step closer and you snap, “Look at yourself, Soobin! Look at your state, tell me you’re not suffering at the hands of your own stubbornness!” You step closer and he flinches, “Don’t- I’m warning you y/n. Stay out of my business.”

“It hurts me to see you like this, Soobin. Let me help you, if it be just this once! You need to become stable! What if you fucking hurt other people?” He snarls lowly, “Keep it down! Do you want the entire facility here?”

“Stop being so fucking stubborn and indulge yourself for fucking once,” you argue ferociously. “You don’t know how hard it is to control myself right now, you standing there in front of me with your sweet blood pumping through your vessels. The temptation-” he rasps.

“Look at yourself, Soobin. Just this once. Let me help you out. I care about you, I want to help you-“ He snaps, “You can h-help me by leaving.” You flinch at his harshness and his eyes soften and he sighs, “I- listen. I don’t want to hurt you, y/n. Please.” His voice cracks. Your feet stay planted to the ground, “This once. Then I’ll help you look, for other sources. Promise.” Soobin’s eyes churn with a mixture of emotions and his fangs glisten. His mouth waters peering at you in such close proximity.

Soobin shakily straightens up walking towards you and you shiver seeing his intense gaze. His tall frame peers down at yours and he lowly murmurs, “You’re just as stubborn as me.” His breaths are shaky as he suddenly places a hand on your neck, “So tempting…I…you’re making it hard to r-resist. Say you want to leave, I’m giving you a chance, my restraint is snapping by the second.” You peer into his abyssal eyes, “I’m not leaving Soobin. Don’t worry, I’m okay with this.”

His fingers push aside your collar and he leans in making you turn left with your eyes closed. He murmurs against your neck clearly enveloped with the scent of your blood, “Oh…heavens, I- in so long…” You grip onto his shirt. Soobin breathlessly hums, “I-I’ll be gentle, I’ll be…” and with that his fangs pierce into the side of your neck near the base. He suckles at your neck; a whimper leaves your lips.

Then a yelp leaves your lips and you hiss lowly as pain floods your senses. You weren’t surprised at the sheer pain but rather how it wasn’t going away. You had heard about the various properties of vampiric bites aside from turning someone of course.

You grip onto his tighter and utter out, “Fuck-“ he wraps his other arm around your waist as he feels you stumbling back; it’s an intimate position leaving you nothing short of breathless. Soon enough you feel a tingling against your skin, something hazy grips your mind like a vice. Something telling you to tilt your head back and allow yourself to give in. It feels good, pleasant. Soobin gulps and slurps against your neck and you feel the world become blurry and blabber out, “S-Soobin- I feel… light-headed.” He doesn’t stop and panic sets in as you tap his back, “Soobin! Soobin-!”

He grunts and his eyes widen in horror as he gently part way from your neck. He peers at the trickle of blood and the puncture wounds on your neck. Mortified with himself he utters, “God…I- I’m sorry. Shit-“ Your blood stains his chin and lips. He gently sits you down and leans you against the wall; his expression is solemn. Does he think he’s a monster? You tiredly peer up at him with a comforting smile. His eyes glaze over, “Stop that. I already feel so guilty I…”

You close your eyes trying to compose yourself. The tingling sensation on your neck from his bite sends shivers through your body. You hear footsteps running away and you open one eye to find Soobin sprinting down the hall. You’re stunned; he just up and left you here? No way. The fuck? Was he overwhelmed?

You close your eyes once more and release a long sigh. You place your hand on your wound; thankfully the bleeding had stopped quickly. You grimace as the dried blood stains your fingers. A few sanguine coloured drops had gotten onto your shirt.

Suddenly, footsteps approach and your brows arch in surprise. Soobin rushes over carrying a small first aid box. You snort as he crouches beside you and he starts unravelling a cotton pad and several items. You weakly murmur, “I’m-“ He hushes, “Shut it. Not a word out of you.”

You smile at him fatigued and he peers at you with a frown, “I was a bit rough. I’m sorry.” You notice his eyes full of life and his body as active as ever; you blood indeed was nourishing. His skin seemed to have a new glow to it.

He continues to patch your neck up in a discreet manner making sure it wouldn’t appear over your collar. You watch him as offer you a bottle of water and you gulp it down gratefully. Soobin peers into your eyes and you do the same back. His proximity was incredibly close as his hand still lingers over the cotton pad on your neck, “Thank you. I need to say thank you. I feel a lot better,” he articulates calmly. Guilt laces his face and you release a chuckle, “Don’t feel bad, I’m glad you’re okay for now.” Soobin peers at you with a heartfelt expression, “I…you’re so kind.”

“Complimenting me are we? That’s new.” He scoffs rolling his eyes and you grin, “Oh come on, see. I’m fine. Look at me.” Soobin’s eyes meet yours and you feel your heart skip, his gaze is intense. “You make me go insane, I swear,” he murmurs before he suddenly presses his lips against yours. Your eyes widen as you place your hand on his cheek. His hand covers your hand intertwining his fingers against yours cupping his cheek. His fangs caress your lips lightly. His soft petal lips move against yours, his tongue brushing your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away just as quick as he started.

Both of you peer at each other breathlessly and wide eyed. An imbecilic grin forms on your lips and he scoffs, “Wipe that grin off your stupid face.” You tease, “Stupid face? But you just pressed your lips to this face.” He scoffs, “That- that was-“ “A thank you? Or have you been dying to do that?” You mischievously hum. Soobin softly glares at you, “You’re a pain you know that.” He goes quiet before saying, “That kiss…I- I’m sorry. It was the wrong time, you’ve already been bitten. I-“

“Oh shut up,” you huff. He scoffs, “Rude.” You roll your eyes, “You’ve said too many apologies.” Soobin frowns, “Well, I feel terrible inside.” You cup his cheeks and coo catching him off guard, “Soobin, Soobin, oh what am I going to do with you?” Soobin muffles, “I’m a vampire, yet this is how you treat me.”

You release his face and chuckle, “Yes, yes, so big and scary.” He deadpans unamused at your remark.

He seems to not be pushing you away so you hum suddenly feeling bold, “…you’re not in a relationship right? I’d assume not.”

“Am I that unloveable?” He questions. You scoff, “Oh come on-“ He chuckles with a soft smile, “I’m kidding. Now you know how I feel. But I’m not. Why?”

You deadpan, “Why? You’re asking why? Can you not tell?” He peers at you, “Well- I have an idea of what you’re implying.”

“I think you’re just oblivious,” you quirk. He scoffs, “I’m not.”

“I’m not in a relationship either,” you hum. Soobin playfully smiles at you, “Poor human, doomed to die alone?” You glare, “Idiot, do I have to embarrass myself further?” Soobin hums coyly, “Yes, that’d be preferable.”

You gather up all the courage you have and blurt out, “Go out with me, Soobin.” You add on rapidly, “Please. No pressure of course.” He peers at you with wide twinkling eyes before his lips break out into an adorable smile. Soobin hums, “You have no self preservation if you were to date me.”

“I think we established that when I literally gave you my blood, no? Or when you kissed me?” You hum and he flushes in embarrassment. He clears his throat, “You have no idea how much I want to.”

You glare, “Hit me with the ‘but’ and ‘if’ then.” He chuckles with a saddened expression, “If you’re constantly around me, what about my cravings? You blood was just…” he reminisces, “so good.”

You hum, “You said you found a potential supplier, right?” He nods, “He said he’d get back to me by the end of this week.” You murmur, “We’ll see how that goes. If not, I’ll help you out. We can try explaining to our supervisor, no? She must have some connections.” He groans, “I suppose she’s too cheery for her own good. She must have some dark connections. I’m not sure though.” You snort, “I’ve thought about that too you know. We’ll see.”

He ponders to himself, you lean forward with a teasing smile, “What are you overthinking about now?” Soobin peers at you with a smile; his dimples prominently at display. How adorable! You place a finger on his dimple and he scoffs. You giggle, “Oh you’re so cute.”

His eyes glimmer before he grips your wrist making your eyes widen and he pulls you forward pressing his lips against yours once more. A muffled yelp escapes and you relax into the kiss as he moves his lips against yours passionately His lips were ever so soft as they merged with yours intimately and he parts from you with a coy smirk. “Was that adorable enough for you?”

Oh how you craved for more. You hum, “Pretty romantic if you ask me.” He rolls his eyes, “Menace.” “I’m not the one with fangs,” you grin.

He raises a brow, “I hope you know with being around me. I might ask for another bite.” You hum, “Is that supposed to intimidate me? Frankly, go for it. It felt good.” Shit, being too honest is never good. Ah, fuck.

His lips form a devious smile, “Oh so you are one of those types…” He helps you to stand up.

You groan, “No I’m not!”

Soobin hums playfully, “Quite the freak aren’t you? Wonder what else your mind up there has in store?”

You whine, “Soobin…I-“ He cackles making your heart warm. This was the first time you’d seen him truly laugh with genuine joy in his features. What a wonderful sound.

Perhaps, some encounters with the supernatural weren’t all bad, hm? Perhaps some were even pretty good.

[sunset-sprinkles]

Some of Seung-hyo's actions and reactions might have come weird or out of character for us - and that makes sense too. Cause he was fighting a lot of battles in his head (not that makes some of his actions justifiable). Well I am here to point out the dialogues that acted as a stimulus to his confession, and why? Because they elements some factors that had kept him from expressing himself.

1. Fear of unresolved trauma and emotional baggage.

Seunghyo carrying a baggage of his parents relationship which he might not show , but has a great impact on his behaviours and outlook. Though it might not be highlighted in the drama it's not easy for a child to overcome the trauma of unsuccessful relationships of their parents.

"Have some alone time with the pool. You have to create a new future. Make sure it's a nice goodbye to the past"

Goodbye to the past, is leaving away all the baggage - trauma and the outlook that those actions created.

2. Fear of rejection and change in the relationship.

He might fear that his feelings are not reciprocated and that confessing could lead to rejection. That his confessing could lead to a change in their dynamics what if she runs away from him, he could no longer even be a part of her life anymore? But the constant fear of loosing her in both the situations either by confession or by letting her go kept knocking in his mind. And in all this we saw him contemplating about what the ending , outcome this would lead to, but does it really matter when your feelings are so deeply routed?? Do you ever have a "perfect timing" for expressing love- or Love is all about timing

"No matter how carefully I shape the clay. No one knows how beautifully it will come out of fire. Will it become a perfectly formed vessel? Or will it crack and shatter to pieces? You won't know until it goes in the kiln."

So you can never fear the outcome if you don't even try to go for it. As simple as that!

3. Holding onto missed opportunities.

Over the years, there have been several opportunities to confess, but he has missed them, leading to regret and further hesitation. But the fact that no matter how difficult and unsure the situations would have been it was always he himself who could have done it. Waiting for the right opportunity, depending on situations and circumstances won't fruit you rewards. He just needed to get over his regret and stop turning himself miserable "into a self-suffarance state".

"Seunghyo, you have to save yourself from unrequited love. Even I can't rescue you"

4. Conflict between Urgency and Inaction.

What exactly is the right time? When is it too early or too late? Do you really think we can predict or realise these things in real sense? We only understand it after a series of events that have taken place. So if there is no event or action how can you predict the outcome or fate of something?The fear of being too late caused him to avoid the situation altogether, convincing himself that it's better not to act than to act too late. The jealousy that would push him to action rather deepened his fear of not being right on time (once again).

"There once was an athlete in 200 m event whose weakness was being slow off the blocks. But despite this, he overcame it through his tireless efforts , even if it's a bit late. I'd tell him to muster up the courage , just like the swimmer did"

So it doesn't matters if you are late or early, what matters is taking up the courage to try expressing what you mean.

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

Though his actions have been confusing. He was going back and forth, avoiding and running behind yet going mad and crazy. It's my own thoughts that we should cut him a slack this time and consider his indecisiveness as result of all the things going inside his head.

[tokiro07]

I think one of my favorite things about Undead Unluck is how thoroughly it integrates its cast and its power system

There is literally no way that one can exist without the other, as the powers that everyone has are simultaneously the driving force of their character development and the benchmark of said development

Every Negator's life is defined by how their ability brought them tragedy, either in a single horrible event, an ongoing insecurity in their day-to-day life, or a mixture of the two. Their abilities are their origin and the source of their pain, but struggling against or embracing that pain allows each of them to grow and evolve their abilities into something new by a change in perspective and experience

Fuuko's Unluck killed her parents (and hundreds of strangers), which led to a life of isolation and longing, both of which shaped her eventual interactions with Andy and the rest of the cast, and it was her ability to analyze and accept what Unluck really means to her that she was able to make it a part of her identity and use it to her advantage. Fuuko as we know her would not exist without Unluck, and Unluck as it exists would not exist without Fuuko, as it would look entirely different in the hands of another character

I feel like I must have seen it elsewhere, but I can't think of any other manga that so perfectly joins those two concepts

Even One Piece doesn't really marry its power system to its characters very much. Yeah, Luffy's Gum-Gum Fruit is iconic and gives him a lot of his charm, but Luffy as a character would not be fundamentally changed if he didn't have it. It fits him thematically because, like his personality, the Gum-Gum Fruit allows him to act freely and bounce back from any bad situation, but his Fruit does not inform his characterization, it merely reflects it. Someone else using it would likely have different results because of their personality, but probably not too drastically. Haki is similar; Luffy has Conqueror's Haki because he has the personality to use it, not the other way around, and this sort of thing is consistent across the series. Characters' abilities are reflections of who they are, but no one became who they are because of their abilities. If you took out Devil Fruits and Haki, I think you'd still end up with mostly the same story just with less interesting fights

Hunter x Hunter, which has likely the most robust and well-defined power system in any shonen manga (if not all of manga), does something very similar, as Nen abilities are created almost exclusively by the user. Whereas Devil Fruit often happen to carry symbolic weight for the characters, Nen abilities reflect their users because they illustrate the user's intentions, priorities, convictions, and imagination. Kurapika's chains give him a lot of versatility, giving him a useful weapon in essentially all situations while carrying a ton of risks to reflect how little his own life actually means to him; his quest for revenge is extremely self-destructive, but damn if he hasn't put a lot of thought into it. However, if you took Nen out of the equation, you'd still be able to illustrate Kurapika's ingenuity and drive solely through his actions, which Togashi managed to do just fine in the several arcs that took place prior to the official introduction of Nen

On the flip side, something like Jojo has surprisingly light characterization unless you're really looking for it. Thanks to Araki's very strange way of conveying dialogue and exposition, with everyone having the capacity to say a completely deranged non-sequitur and explain esoteric scientific or pseudo-scientific trivia, it's not always easy to get a firm handle on everyone's personalities. However, Stands are a manifestation of the inner spirit of their user, so you can use a Stand's ability to analyze and come to understand the characters themselves. At a glance this seems to do the same thing as DFs and Nen, but to me the Stands themselves are used to better understand the characters, whereas HxH uses the characters to develop and understand the power system

Again, it's not like you could take out Stands or Nen or Devil Fruit, but nothing that occurs within technically requires those systems be in place as they are. Any power system could have technically worked, like Luffy could have used Nen or a Stand to rubberize his body or Jotaro could have gotten a DF that lets him stop time. They would require a lot of changes to fit with the overall design of their respective stories, but the cast wouldn't really be that different

Luffy fights DF- and Haki-users to change the systems they represent, but defeating them will not affect his ability to use his DF. In UU, defeating God will (presumably) remove the Rules altogether; defeating the source both clears the Negators of the "curses" that have plagued them for so long while also forcefully changing the systems of the world as a whole. It's two birds with one stone, and serves as a great example of narrative utility

[bonesandthebees]

Also, I love that (like in canon) Alicent is perfectly aware of her father’s intentions every step of the way. She knows where this is going. She knows it and she hates it and she fears it and it makes her uncomfortable. BUT she’s so brainwashed she fully believes that she has to do this. She has no choice. She hoped her father would tell her or even discuss it with her, ask her opinion. BUT HE DOESN’T. And she takes that for what it is. She has no control. So she wears her mother’s dresses with their lower cut and she goes to talk to the king and lets herself be ogled all while being so extremely uncomfortable to the point of self harm.

I just want to hug her, it’s so sad.

At least Rhaenyra has it covered. She would kill for her not-quite girlfriend. And I love that for a second actual Alicent and her feelings slip through the mask. She does not want to marry the King she does not want him anywhere near her and if the fae can get rid of him she’ll be glad. And then the polite little girl she was molded into resurfaces. And she’s horrified at wanting him dead.

It’s the same with the kiss. She wants it and she gets lost in it and then everything she is catches up and she forces herself back into the shape she’s meant to take.

And I love learning more about the fae and the realm. I love the mushroom circle and Alicent getting into it without a promise of safety at the end because she trusts her friend (crush) and she just wants comfort. I love the set-up that fae can leave the circle but only when someone calls their name (I just wonder if a nickname that is part of her full name is enough). And travelling to the fae realm, not only can Alicent go, she could be protected, she could stay. If only she would let herself take that offer, but she is a girl bound by duty.

-🌲

I knowww the tragic thing about Alicent is that she's so attached to her sense of duty and how she's been taught to be obedient her entire life that even though she knows things are going in a direction she doesn't want them to, she feels like she has to do what her father wants. As I'm sure you can tell I have a LOT of feelings about young Alicent in canon and how her father forced her into her relationship with Viserys

Rhaenyra is so ready to murder for her. and Alicent has never had someone fighting for her. she's never had someone completely and 100% on her side, supporting her. she's never had someone threaten another person for her. so a part of her loves that Rhaenyra does this for her, because finally someone is saying that what Alicent wants matters. It matters that she didn't want the King to ogle her like that. It matters that she doesn't want to marry him.

But then of course her upbringing and all that repression comes back and she feels like she's a horrible person for thinking like that. And like you said, it's the same with the kiss. It's something she wants for herself, she desires it and she enjoys it but the moment she realizes what she's doing she has to pull herself away

Alicent my girl dealing with that fantasy Catholic guilt :(

I love throwing in bits and pieces of the fae realm and everything here. I have my own ideas about this universe's version of the doom of valyria and what the targaryens situation is and all that but idk if I'm gonna get a chance to work it into dialogue, we'll see how chapter 3 goes :)

the offer is right there and yet alicent has a duty that must be fulfilled...

[questions-from-d87]

oc-tober day 1 - "home"

♤ kiki wakes up early.

♤ 507 words

♤ prompt from @oc-tober2023

♤ i challenged myself to do a no dialogue piece for this one since i always rely so heavily on character interaction and i think it went ok :))

Kiki rose from her bed.

She stretched out her arms above her head as she sat up, her lavender comforter falling to her lap. The artificial window showed sunlight, but she knew it had to be too early for that.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked to her side. Kidd was still there. Kidd was a dirtied old fellow who'd been everywhere Kiki had, a gift from her favorite cousin for her fourth birthday. Grey stripes covered the little cat, small enough to fit in a pocket, eyes of black plastic that reflected the light in a way that made them look like they'd had highlights drawn in.

She lifted him into her arms and tucked him into the pocket of her pajama pants, beige, covered in little bears and smelling like the closet they'd been pulled out of when she'd arrived. She left his head poking out to make sure she'd never lose sight of him. She was an anxious child, undeniably, from the way she was brought up. Kidd would be taken from her sometimes as punishment - she would wake up without her only true comfort in her home beside her and find out later that it was because she'd missed the fact that her math homework had a backside or that she didn't eat enough of her dinner.

She walked on her toes out the door and descended the stairs down the hall to the first floor of the building, then popped her head out the front door. Sure enough, the fireflies were still out. The sun hadn't yet risen.

The girl found a strange charm in the confusing world she'd found herself in. A world where trees were made of polygons and where one could access a black void just neighboring where they worked, a world where time was read in symbols and nobody could seem to remember quite what the cashier at White Castle looked like. Finding beauty in the horror of it all helped her cope - she had died, after all, and couldn't remember how. It had been a week since then, and already, she had forced tears so many times that she found it hard to tell whether she was really crying. That was her job. To present a story, to make whoever was next on the King's list pity her. She didn't dare question the consequences if she refused.

If "home" could simply be defined as a place one lives, this would have been it. And she thought about that as she looked up at the sky, perfectly-shaped clouds gliding past, holding up Kidd as if he could watch the stars glimmer with her. This didn't feel quite like home, not yet. But she didn't truly know home, and she never had. Home always felt too far away. Something she could try to visualize but had no hope of reaching.

Whatever. Whether she liked it or not, she told herself, this was home now.

And she'd just have to get used to it.

[bayetea]

7 8 13 20 fr the fic writer meme? 👀 cant wait for chapter 8 im so excited

7. Coffee or tea while you write?

tea! especially boba tea. I love tea hence my username, but I mean if I'm staying up late for a fic then I'm taking double espresso lol

8. What is your favorite line/section from [insert fic]?

I assume you're asking about hippocrene and that's a hardddd one but honestly I think it's still this part from ch4 with percy. it's pretty much my thesis on how percy coexists with his trauma without losing it and blowing up the world lol. there's also just a lot packed into this apple of eden motif (and other references to religion throughout this chapter):

He doesn’t think often of his own miseries beyond sheer annoyance to have suffered them at all. He doesn’t point his ire like a gun at the Fates and demand his childhood returned in soldered pieces. The hideous fruits of resentment and anger could not satiate the anguish of a wayward hero with their startling bitterness or Edenic consequences. Enemies from the past made this perfectly clear.  And he would choke if he ever had to see them in the mirror. He is stronger than that. He won't ever let it happen. His philosophy is as crude as it is practical: he must fight for the future with gritted teeth whilst honoring the past that had shaped him into this—whatever he is, now. A man, hopefully. Not a boy. An adult. Someone with the capacity to be as human as everyone else in the world, because he had never wanted to be his half-blood self, leashed forever to the gods, their Olympian whims, and the countless villains who wish him dead for the crime of existing. But if anything is evidence for the dignity of his past or consolation for the fruit he cannot indulge, it is this girl that lays below him now. He can deem his loss of civilized life as a worthwhile sacrifice for a future with Annabeth.

13. Do you have an 'official' creative writing background such as a degree or previous experience publishing?

not really?? I'm a media studies major and I do have training in media analysis/storytelling/writing scripts tho. so I have a lot of fun writing dialogue especially

20. Share your favorite kiss scene from [insert fic]. If there's no kiss scene, share your favorite moment of intimacy (romantic or platonic)

this parttttttt. getting to write stuff like this is the reason why I love writing romance so much

“I love you too, you know...” When her fingers traced the outline of his lips, and she spoke his name for no reason but to feel its weight upon her tongue, Frank wondered if his heart might grow beyond the region of his chest. Warm color melted like ice atop his cheeks. And thus came a flood of thousand emotions, all of which were governed by the motions of her hand. How it caressed him so, and ignited his endearment, and assumed such prepossessing presence in his thoughts. “Your eyes, Frank...” There was awe in her voice, still smoothing along his lips with the soft pad of her fingers. “This look you have right now...” Gently, he took her hand within the grasp of his own, and slowly aligned her knuckles with the hot touch of lips. Few thoughts accompanied this soft contact, beyond a tepid wish to kiss her down from her wrist to the prefix of her forearm, to her round, smooth shoulder and her small collarbone, to her neck up to her chin—if he were simply bold enough to give his love to her. How long might it take to color every part of Hazel with the imprint of his lips? He could devote hours and days of his life to showering her body in affection just so, and so enamored by this girl, there couldn’t possibly be a better use of his time. But instead, he brought her hand back onto his face, giving her palm conformity to the shape of his cheek. Tall and broad-bodied as he was, Hazel’s arms were not wide enough to ever embrace him fully—but tragically, Frank still liked to be held, and he always felt such assurance and delight whenever Hazel cupped his face with those small yet powerful hands of hers. So he pressed his cheek a little further into her palm, and exhaled lovingly as she caressed the outline of his face by her own volition. Dreamily, with his eyes half-closed, Frank murmured near her ear, “... What do I look like, Hazel?” “You look... um. You look like you’re under some kind of spell...” “... I think I am,” Frank said, under full hypnosis of her palm. “The way you touch me, Hazel... it's taking over me. I can’t think of anything else...”

thank you for sending these this was fun!!! chapter 8 should be out next week I think

[vifilms]

this, plu, oh my god. this beautiful story you have woven together is just absolutely breathtaking. the best way i can describe it as someone who embroiders, each piece of thread needled with precision. just like each word and line created by your wonderful mind. each better than the last. honestly, each time i'm in awe. not to mention the love i have for greek mythology just increases my love for this by a mile. in my brain, it’s like you choose everything so carefully, every word perfectly placed to convey exactly what you want. there’s something so incredibly creative and just mind blowing about it to me. leaves me out of sorts in an incredibly addicting way.

i was so excited for this one and you certainly did not disappoint in anyway shape or form. fully, i stand by this — angels cheer when plu posts. i’m definitely gonna read this many, many, many more times. the way you’ve gotten me, a loyal and faithful abby stan to be fully obsessed and enamored with ellie fics is beyond me but when it’s this good i can’t help but let my brain sink into it.

also, the way you wrote the action, the imagery in this is actually insane. itching my brain in the most delicious way possible. impossible for me not to love anything you write. and enjoy more of my plu praising yaps …. impossible for me not to divulge in this masterpiece you have created and blessed us with.

Soon after you sat down though, unexpectedly, Ellie began with a wobbly voice, tears welling up in her eyes, “I love you so much, can't stand to be apart from you. This is torture, sometimes I can’t bear to wait for the sun to set, I need to rip it out of the sky myself. What did we even do to deserve this?”

okay, let me talk about this for a second. i’m such a lover girl to my core. i love love. and this? punched me in the heart with full force. there’s just something so intimate about crying to the one you love about how much you care for them. and ‘i need to rip it out of the sky myself’ oh. i’m unwell. gutted my soul to the point i’m not sure there’s anything left there.

PURE GOLD. convinced the gods themselves wrote this bc it’s too perfect for us mere mortals. don’t ever tell me your dialogue isn’t anything but perfection because … lies !!! in just a few lines, you conveyed everything that’s needed and it makes me feel absolutely feral with love. knowing it shall all be ripped away shortly makes it even more just ….. scrumptious.

She was holding your hands gingerly, ghosting the pads of her fingers over your knuckles. For the first time in so many years, you felt a strange warmth brew in your chest, what was it, you had forgotten. Could it be hope?

hope. ugh i am a hopewhore, if you will. when the odds are stacked against you, it’s all you have sometimes. yet again, displayed perfectly because what is more hopeful than a love you want to believe is forever and long lasting? maybe you were going for something else but this is what i picked up on, personally. sometimes it’s all we have, the thing we have to cling onto. the one person who makes us feel it, the safest and most frightening feeling. hope and love. we’ll do anything to keep it for ourselves but sometimes it has a a way of slipping. this fic did such a good job in representing it. such a kick to the fucking gut, knowing what’s to come. knowing it will be fleeting, winding you until there’s so air left to breathe. okay now i’m just yapping away but seriously this is just wonderful, plu. your writing provokes such an emotional side of me, i don’t know how you do it. every sentence is like you know the inner markings of my heart. INSANITYYYYYYYYYY. THE TALENT. INCREDIBLE.

The pain was indescribable, so painful she couldn't even scream, but it was thankfully short-lived—she lost consciousness almost immediately after coughing up some blood. It splattered all over the mulberry tree, dyeing the previously white fruits to a shade mimicking that of wine. What followed was never ending blackness, but finally peace, and she left the world with a smile on her face, her last thought was that of you.

okay okay okAY OKAY. THATS ENOUGH ANGST. HEAVY WITH THE ANGSTSHSHSYS. okay meme brain shut up this instant, actually i love angst, to my core. such a lover of crippling, soul-crushing endings that make me question my existence. give to me, all of it. in this you certainly did bc HELP?????? need some god go save me now bc this is such a merciless serve.

and the added thought of dying for the one you love, thinking of them as you wither away, the last piece you have is the love you have before becoming, well, nothing but that. all of it so meaningless too, because they are still there and could be tangible if only she had waited and not jumped to conclusions. but alas, love is never logical and ensues the dramatics of greek mythology. you’ve really represent it in such an exceptional manner.

okay, i’m done, for now. i love u and your magnificent brain. #1 plu stan for life. sorry if some of this makes no sense my mind is jumbled with my love for this inside and out. the mythology loving beast has been awoke within me and SHE IS LOUDUUDUDDDDD. yeah, anyways love you and your writing. always.

Where the Mulberry Tree Stands

before you read ▪︎ my masterlist

☆: my rewrite of the myth of pyramus and thisbe. ♡ but with ellie as pyramus, & reader as thisbe. i realize this is very niche, but i wanted to try something new! absolutely adore mythology of all kinds, so basically wrote this for myself. if you do read, hope you enjoy! well, as much as you're able to...photomode creds—astralnymphh on pinterest.

◇: reader discretion is advised!! please do not read if sensitive to heavy angst with a tragic end, descriptions of suicide & brief mentions of parental abuse. also contains flowery writing and references to figures/things in ancient greece (which i pray are accurate...) ++ 4k wc

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.” — Homer, The Iliad.

Tap tap tap, three raps on the plaster wall in double time signaled to her on the other side that your meeting time had arrived. Tap tap tap, and she returned it with a flourish at the end, a new arrangement every day, so you knew to escape into the night.

Ellie—who was named after and nothing short of the embodiment of light itself—your lover, your soulmate, your other half lived just there. But generations upon generations of family tension forbade you two from living your dreams. Decades of battles for who had better quality fruit, sweeter honey, more drachmae, which family was favored by the citizens in the area—it all felt trivial, and frankly silly, when you thought about how much she meant to you in comparison to all that.

You had memories of early childhood, kneeling on the scratchy straw of the floor, while your mother berated you for spending time with the girl. “What were you thinking? I will not have my child associating with dishonorable likes such as them, you have disappointed me greatly. If I catch you over there one more time, by gods I will feed you to the wolves with my own two hands. Try it, one more time and you'll see what will fall upon you.” The way her voice shook with emotion was harrowing, you've never seen your mother in such a rageful, infuriated state, you could have sworn she was emulating the anger of a gorgon, and you remember the slap across your face that quickly followed her outburst, how it burned.

Yet through all the lectures and beatings, you never understood where she was coming from. Shouldn't bonds—strong and robust as if they were forged on Hephaestus’ anvil—come above all material things? You thought so at least. And she agreed. When you matured, you pitied your family for missing out on such experiences. “They will never know how lucky we are.” You would whisper in your lover's ear, whenever she fell asleep on you during your beloved nightly outings.

Every time you laid eyes on her, it was like you fell in love all over again. Her olive eyes shining, grin lighting up her entire face, husky giggles filling the air as she bolted to tackle you in a tight embrace. You two spun in each other's arms, nearly tripping over the low wooden fence marking your shared property. It only earned a laugh—when you were with her, any negativity was completely erased, as if it never existed in the first place. All stresses, worries, cares in the world simply vaporized into the air, and the only emotion you knew was adoration.

You two skipped hand-in-hand to your favorite spot by the river, where the air cooled and the grass was dotted with baby blue flowers. You toppled over, falling to a heap on the ground. Moist smacks of her lips all over your face while she cradled your jaw tenderly, every reunion with her felt like it was multiple lifetimes apart. Your breathing synced as you sat together in silence, enjoying each other's company.

Soon after you sat down though, unexpectedly, Ellie began with a wobbly voice, tears welling up in her eyes, “I love you so much, can't stand to be apart from you. This is torture, sometimes I can’t bear to wait for the sun to set, I need to rip it out of the sky myself. What did we even do to deserve this?” You pulled her in and cuddled her close to your chest, letting her listen to the rhythm of your heart and wrap her arms around you to rub your back. You felt the way her hands trembled, you couldn't remember the last time you saw the tough Ellie break down like this, it was tearing you apart.

Kissing the top of her head, you interjected, “But observe it positively, at least we are able to see each other at all, and we live so close, only separated by one thin wall.” Her shoulders began to shake, sticky tears quickly soaking through the linens you were wearing. Feeling your own heart shatter into countless pieces, you just stroked her hair and let her cry as much as she needed.

She clutched you tighter and wailed, “I just wish to spend every hour by your side, every hour awake and every hour asleep, without any separation. I wish I could cook for you in our house, with vegetables grown from our soil, bring you flowers from our garden, and tend to the animals you and I named, instead of waiting until sunset after a day of listening to my father talk badly of you. When I hear him spout all that nonsense, it hurts me so deeply, because all he's saying are lies…this is so unfair.”

You tried your best to console her, “Shh, my love, don't cry. That is the most beautiful dream and I wish it all the same, but don't despair.” You moved her face so she looked up at you, sparkly tears streaming down her sun-kissed cheeks, her beauty was blinding—even when she was sad. “Don't lament, for I am right here, look!” You tried to cheer her up, “I'm holding you now while we rest, while we breathe in the crisp air and feel the soft blades of grass beneath us, all will be well. Don't dwell on those thoughts, let them go.”

Swaying gently from side to side and humming a calming melody, you succeeded in soothing her, feeling her relax in your arms and her shudders slow to a stop. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. You continued the sweet reassurances, kissing away her tears. “One day, whether it be soon, or when we're old and fragile, struggling to stand or wipe our own asses,” you pause to share a chuckle with her, “We won't have to meet like this. Just trust, there is a plan for us in the stars, trust in our gods.”

She nodded, turning to gaze off in the distance, and watch a white crane drink from the water. She snapped to look at you with surprise blazing in her eyes, more round than your mother's prized ceramic dishes. “I have a thought, what if we wed? In secret, with our families never knowing a thing. Or even better we go to the spot over there,” she stopped to point across the river, at the large mulberry tree standing tall in the middle of a yellow-green field. She continues, “And we run away together. We could hitch a ride on a ship and sail over to Lesbos, perhaps we can meet Sappho herself! I've always wanted to. But first we must profess our love for each other, properly, tomorrow night's time, under the tree, to ensure we're blessed. What do you think?”

She was holding your hands gingerly, ghosting the pads of her fingers over your knuckles. For the first time in so many years, you felt a strange warmth brew in your chest, what was it, you had forgotten. Could it be hope? You felt your mouth stretch into a smile so wide it ached, and you burst forward to throw your arms around her neck again, mumbling into the side of her neck, “Yes, yes, Ellie, a thousand times, yes. Oh, I can't wait, I will swipe one of my mother’s silk veils, cook us a celebratory meal, it will be so wonderful.”

Mellow belly laughs, delightful as those spilling from a leader being crowned, tore themselves from her chapped lips, and she squeezed you so tight against her, like she was never planning to let go. “And I will bring my spear, gifted by my grandfather, so I have it to protect my wife from anything that dares harm her.” Hearing her refer to you as her wife, it was a feeling like none other. The butterflies in your stomach swarmed like they became a flock of swallows, their excited tittering heard all the way across the ocean.

You squealed, “Ah I love you, I love you, I love you, my dearest, we will have such a wondrous life together.”

“Yes, that we will, but let's rest until then, I look forward to it. I will write a song just for you as well, bring my lyre and sing to you so we dance from evening until dawn arrives. As soon as night falls, I will be by the spot waiting, that is a promise. Now rest, we have big plans ahead of us, have the sweetest dreams, love.”

The next day spent waiting was as torturous as Ellie describes, only worse. Because all you could think about was her. Running away with her, never looking back at your old lives, getting joyously joined in matrimony—albeit informally—your mind was plagued. After your mother left for her daily errands in the town, you dug through her things, practically overturned her whole space to find the veil. You put it on, feeling so exquisite. It appeared as if it was weaved on an angel's loom, the fibers soft and vibrant.

When all that was over, you resorted solely to watching the sun move in the sky. You were feeling impatient and antsy, and briskly grew tired of waiting so you decided to get started on the trek. You have not been over to that spot in some time, but were interested to see how the tree had grown, and if it had reared fruit. You observed the clouds and the sky during your stroll—the sun had not set fully, the sky still as orange as freshly pressed juice.

Luckily the river was shallow, so you just hiked up your clothes to your waist and crossed without a hitch. You scurried through the tall grass and made it to the tree, sitting down underneath it. You took a deep breath in, smelling the clean air and observing the lively nature around you, still bored but glad to be away from your house—nothing good ever occurred there.

Looking up, you're pleasantly shocked to see the tree is full of fruits, clusters of pale baubles brightly contrasting the green leaves. You reached up and took one from the stem, biting into it, but you recoiled at the taste—tart and bitter, it was horrendous. Like you were eating something utterly inedible. You threw it on the ground, grinding it to a pulp with the bottom of your sandal, that's how offended you were at the assault it performed in your mouth. “Ugh, gross, these are meant to be ripe…do we really eat them like this? What a waste of a fruit.” You muttered to yourself, resuming a cross-legged sitting position by the tree's roots.

After some more time of uneventful waiting, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, at attention, primal alarm bells going off inside you—something wasn't right.

You scan your surroundings with haste, noticing movement in the tall grass in front of you, you're transfixed and stay staring at it, ripping a branch off of the tree to use as a weapon, because your warrior wasn't here yet to protect you from harm.

You heard her before you saw her, a low guttural rumbling rang through the air that could only belong to one thing. Out of the grass emerged a golden lioness, slinking towards you with hushed aggression, her teeth bared and dripping with the remains of a kill.

Your instincts to run away kicked in with full force, and you screamed out for help, running as fast as your legs would carry you. Unfortunately, the speed at which you sat up caused the veil to fall from your head and to the ground—but you didn't care, you didn't think it was possible for your mother to hate you more than she already does. You ran as far as you could, briefly glancing behind you to see what the situation was, what the lioness was doing.

You were able to make out her tearing the fabric apart so voraciously, bloodstained jaws ripping it into shreds, bits of dyed fabric flying to all sides. You still ran as far away as you could, you did not want to be the next victim of those canines, that would be anything but pleasant.

Once the adrenaline wore off you collapsed, panting heavily, trying to catch your breath with difficulty. The tall plants hid you well from any threats, so you laid down, and closed your eyes to recuperate before it was time to meet with Ellie.

When night fell, Ellie made her way to the spot, spear and lyre in hand. She was so excited, and had spent the whole day practicing her act happily, making sure every note she played was perfect. She wanted to make this the best one-woman show you've ever seen.

She couldn't contain her glee, and resorted to sprinting to the designated meeting place, calling out to you, her voice light as a birdsong, “Lovely! I've arrived!” But she stopped short in her tracks when she didn't see you jogging over to greet her with a hug, or really anywhere at all.

“Where could you be?” She asked the world in bewilderment, casting glances all around her to see if you were playing a trick on her. She didn't think you were, but didn't wish to jump to worst case scenarios right away.

Her heartbeat sped up slightly, suffocating fear bubbling up in her throat at your absence. Scampering closer to where she thought you were going to be, she still saw you were nowhere to be found. That is, until something colorful caught her eye.

Hanging from a branch, a piece of torn fabric, stained with dark, still-wet blood. Her line of sight dropped, and she saw more pieces strewn across the dirt, next to glaring claw marks in the soil, and decorating the tree's bark.

She suddenly felt winded, as if somebody had thrown her from a height and she landed flat on her back, full panic setting in. “Oh gods, oh no, what-” She gasped, teetering backwards, overwhelmed by the realization that had taken hold of her. “No, no, no, no, she's right over there. This is from before…” she muttered under her breath, her inhales labored, head pounding as if she was struck by a hammer, and hands shaking so intensely the pieces of fabric she was still holding slipped from her fingers.

“Love! Come out!” She yelled again, her voice cracking, her vision tunneling and chest seizing—this couldn't be happening.

The blood roared in her ears, tears pouring out of her eyes while she pawed at her hair and fell to her knees, hyperventilating. Her spear and lyre clattered noisily as they fell, lyre shattering to bits. She yanked on her locks, unable to believe what was happening to her—where was her love?

She picked up the pieces of the veil, frantically trying to rejoin them, the blood coating her uncontrolled fingers and staining her skin, the hideous color making her stomach turn.

Then the sobs came, she had never cried harder in her life, her whole body heaving with each quake, the pain in her soul worsening as seconds flew by. She kneeled before the tree, pleading to the sky, “Someone…anyone…please. I need her with me.” She felt light-headed, consumed by otherworldly anguish as if it was bestowed by Hades’ hand. It began to morph into numb hopelessness the longer she stayed there, praying, weeping into the ground.

She had to do something, escape from her body, thoughts were swarming her mind, the idea that you were dead ridding her of balance, taking everything from her.

She pleaded until her throat hurt, until crows had perched at the top of the tree to watch her exhibition. They cawed mockery at her, as if they were saying, measly human!

She howled, “What is this life, just give her back to me! Give me back my love, give her back to me, I can't be without her. I can't, no I couldn't. It's too—no—uh. Gods, anyone? Why, why, why?”

Cacophonous, animalistic, cries fell from her lips until she couldn't produce a croak—voice dry and hoarse, waves of grief clawing their way out of her, eating her from the inside out. Her tone barely above a whisper, she was still mumbling, “Give her back, give her back to me. I haven't done any wrong in my life, we can't help where we come from! Just give her back.” In the furthest recesses of her mind there remained a glimpse of hope that she could bring you back, if she willed it hard enough.

She was flooded with memories, memories of your scent, your warmth in her arms, your sing-song voice and the love-filled looks and caresses she was so blessed to be the recipient of. All of that, was she never to experience it again?

She attempted to stand up, but her legs could not hold her, she fell on the hard ground with a grunt, even having cried out all her tears. Every passing moment made it more difficult to breathe, made her chest hurt worse—she needed to do something to ease it.

Her spear. The glint of the metal alloy caught her eye from where it was, any sense of judgment she had before was gone, replaced by pure darkness, the wish to leave the world.

She picked it up, and almost couldn't hold it, the handle feeling twenty times heavier than usual, the blade shaking in her unsteady hands. Was she doing this? She had to, there was nothing else left for her, she thought.

She found her voice, slowly angling the glimmering edge of the blade towards her heart, and said a word. “My love, we'll meet again. We'll meet in the flowering fields of Elysium, where I will get to hold your hand once more, and we'll have our own house, attached to a garden full of vegetables to cook delicious meals with. We'll play with the animals we named, and spend every hour together—awake and asleep. I must do this, for life isn't possible without you.”

She took a deep breath and stabilized her hands, bringing the spear tip to touch her sternum. Her voice steadying, she said three words for the very last time, “I love you.” Before plunging the blade in her heart with all the strength she had left.

The pain was indescribable, so painful she couldn't even scream, but it was thankfully short-lived—she lost consciousness almost immediately after coughing up some blood. It splattered all over the mulberry tree, dyeing the previously white fruits to a shade mimicking that of wine. What followed was never ending blackness, but finally peace, and she left the world with a smile on her face, her last thought was that of you.

Over in the grass, the breeze flying through the tall stalks lulled you to a sleep, and you awoke with a start, confused as to what had happened and where you were.

You blinked the bleariness away and sat up, remembering the lioness that tried to attack you. What a story you had to tell Ellie. She wouldn't believe you, in your mind's eye you could see the way she'd nod, the teasing tone to her voice, “Yes, that happened. No, no, of course I believe you, when have I not?”

At the thought of her, you remembered why you were out here in the first place—to meet with your future wife and profess your love, then run away to live the life you dreamed of. Oh how you couldn't wait.

You jumped up and dusted yourself off, then ran to the tree, eager to tell Ellie about the encounter you had.

But the sight that befell you was the worst thing you could've ever imagined to see. Something only written in the most famous tragedies, something no one ever wished on another person, even their worst enemies.

Ellie, your love, laying on the ground in a pool of maroon blood, with no color in her features, and her spear sticking out of her chest.

You gasped in horror and rushed to her side, madly shaking her body, patting her cheeks, pressing on her arms—but alas, she was completely limp.

“Ellie! No! Wake up!” Thunderous shrieks, begs and pleads for her to wake up shook the Earth, you stroked her face, the ugly feel of her cold skin only adding to the devastation.

When she wasn't moving, you held her body protectively, didn't ever wish to let go, tried to find any signs of life, tears of mourning streaming down your face in bucketfuls.

You stayed there by her as long as you could, silently praying to whatever was out there for her to move a muscle, to open her eyes and assure you everything was alright—she was just joking around, the blood was juice she nabbed, thickened with starch she got from the kitchen, the spear tip was broken and actually just resting against her skin, held in place by a base she crafted and secured under her robe, her lifeless complexion produced by powder—likely flour—to give the chalky effect.

But no, this was reality. Your love had left you. She left you the worst way, by taking her life herself. But why? After all you had planned together?

Thinking like that pained you, the wretched feeling of grief spreading throughout your whole being, thinking of anything at all felt impossible. Did she do it because of you? That thought sent a wave of nausea through you, there was no way that was true.

There was only one thing left to do, you thought. You made up your mind, pulled the spear from her chest, wincing at the sight of her wound, and held it in your hand. You leaned forward and pressed one more kiss to the middle of her forehead, forced a smile against her, and whispered, “It's okay, I'll be with you soon, my love. We'll meet again.”

You took a few breaths in and out, braced yourself for the piercing pain, lined up the sharp tip with your own heart, and thrust with all your might.

Sweet mulberries, succulent and luscious—ended up ripening to a deep mauve hue, similar to that of blood and wine, and became the most adored fruit of them all. A plentiful treat for the masses, deemed compensation for the sacrifice of two love-sick mortals. It was the least the gods could do after all they witnessed before them today. As they watched the spectacle, their understanding of the human species only increased in wonder, in curiosity about their motivations. “That was so strange, they did not know the other was alright—merely jumping to conclusions. Fascinating. Humans are so emotional, where's the rationale?” They debated amongst themselves until the sun rose once more, the only agreement they came to was increased sympathy for humanity, even going as far as to pity.

“Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight. For the greatest tragedy of them all is never to feel the burning light.” — Oscar Wilde

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[amplifyme]

Heyyyyyyyyy, it's been a while but I'm BACK! >:DDDD

So, here's the skinny: Sis is busy w/ her own projects, etc. She and I are definitely finishing Cat and Mouse when she has the time; but from then on out it'll be me relating bits and pieces as I read through yours and Nan's works to her, jotting down (or copy pasting) her notes, and sending them along when we sync schedules.

In the meanwhile, I read ahead and collected some thoughts for the next few sections (some of these might be copy pasted from before, can't remember if I've sent them already.)

Dialogues

Nothing much to add, because I’ve already chewed and digested this chapter thoroughly (might be my favorite in AWTN, we’ll see as I reread.) A lot of my looser thoughts are tied directly into Wildlife, so I’ll just hop over to that story instead-- 

Wildlife

““Freak, she reflected soberly, filling with warm water a bowl shaped to look like a cabbage. Somebody's said that to him once, or a lot of times; and now he says it to himself. That's rough. But a good thing for me to know....””

A thought: does Diana repeats nicknames Vincent either scoffs at or thinks at first is a negative for fun or jest; and then it catches on when he sees she does it to bond with him, transforming it into "their thing" (Buster, babe, sport)?

““Every once in awhile, as now, it struck her sharply how much alike they were despite all surface differences, despite the equal differences of experience and upbringing.”” -- I love it: their similarities serve to mark their differences, and their differences their strengths as individuals and as a couple. 

Diana recognizing that Cathy tried to turn herself into a hunter whereas it was in her nature to be so (and Vincent not liking the parallels against Cathy's favor at all)-- eyyy, Diana the goddess of the hunt! Whoo! Now I’m second-guessing if I’d picked that up from my first readthrough or connected the dots only when watching the show. XDDD

Diana learned the lesson that Cathy skirted around: ““Not innocence. Brutal experience, brutally learned, and forced into gentleness and willed unawareness because stronger than anything was his desire to protect those he cared about.””

Outlook

Winslow’s “you’re lucky you don’t have to worry about that” just as Vincent falls in love (without hope.) And Vincent cut the door leading to the Falls for Father! 

Seeing all the characters clicking into place post season is exquisite-- knowing how their arcs in AWTN end, it’s fun to speed read but fill in their outlines at the same time. 

Changes

Diana intuiting something wrong w/ Vincent on the 12th and getting a headache on the 21st-- HMMMMMM, empath. 

Diana going wonky after touching Catherine’s rosebush/sensing Vincent through it--- HMMMMM, empath. (Also: moment from the series, whoooo!)

““His face was still locked into the terrible blank carelessness, the same as when he'd gone straight at the fire through whatever was between. He was breathing in harsh, aching grunts, jaw dropped, bottom fangs showing. Motes of spray jeweling his rough mane and the finer hair of his lower face and muzzle; eyes gone indigo-dark and hugely dilated, looking not into hers but lower.”” Why hello, Buster. Also, the two of them just staring at each other as wonder poured out of Diana instead of fear.... one of my favorite moments.  

““When she looked, he had his gloved hands clasped and was looking back at her over them like an alert squirrel.””-- the best description of Father. (I showed this quickly to Sis; and she was perfectly neutral about it: "There's nothing to have a thought over-- Don't write that, I'll feel bad." We then chuckled between ourselves; and she got busy w/ Sis things.)  

Father mentions the time Diana saved him from being buried alive, it makes sense now, oooh. 

Diana telling Vincent what she’d told her sister-- context, oooh. 

The miracle of Vincent helping her to believe in trust once more-- beautiful. 

We’re both dead anyway so why not just live is a great philosophy for Vincent. Perfect approach, Diana. 

Ghosts

Smyth referencing Jenny (I believe?) because of Diana’s red hair-- nice. 

Vincent talking about considering killing Elliot in S2-- can’t remember if that was a scene from the episode, a deleted scene in the scripts, or a Nan creation in her novelization (in which case, her lore was locked down years before she actually wrote the novelization.) 

Vincent’s showdown with Joe is so much better now that  I’m not imagining Maxwell as an old, skinny man with broad shoulders and white hair. 

I’ve always wondered why Cathy doesn’t speak to Vincent through Kristopher-- likely setting up The Darkling Plain. Interested to figure it out as I go.

And I think that's all for now~. ;)))

Hey! Tell Sis I said hi and hope she can join us again at some point. Let's dig in below the cut.

On Wildlife:

A thought: does Diana repeats nicknames Vincent either scoffs at or thinks at first is a negative for fun or jest; and then it catches on when he sees she does it to bond with him, transforming it into "their thing" (Buster, babe, sport)?

There's definitely a purpose to her doing it and I think it's for more than a single reason. Part of it is gentle teasing, because V takes himself so very seriously and D wants him to ease up a bit, learn to laugh at himself sometimes. I also think she does it to show him that he can take those negative terms and turn them into something positive, to take away the power he's previously given them and claim that power for himself. It's the same thing many women have done with the negative connotations of being called a bitch or a slut, and how some gay men have embraced the term faggot and used it in a way that empowers them. It's a tool she uses to help V fully accept himself - on his terms, not someone else's.

Diana learned the lesson that Cathy skirted around: ““Not innocence. Brutal experience, brutally learned, and forced into gentleness and willed unawareness because stronger than anything was his desire to protect those he cared about.””

Yep, yep, yep! Diana is so intuitive. Not only when it comes to Vincent, but in everything she does. But I think it's only when she encounters V that she begins to shine that bright light on herself and in the process discovers as much about herself as she does about V.

On Outlook:

Winslow’s “you’re lucky you don’t have to worry about that” just as Vincent falls in love (without hope.) And Vincent cut the door leading to the Falls for Father! 

First of all, isn't it sad that V's friends and family have already unthinkingly imposed such restrictions upon him that they can't even imagine that he might be able to break free of them? They've all placed him in this box labeled "This is all you can be and nothing more, ever." Sure, I understand the reasoning behind it and the love for him that motivated that kind of thinking, but it's still incredibly narrow minded and did him such a disservice.

V opened up the outlook for himself too. So he could have a place where he could experience distances, as well, a space beyond the sometimes claustrophobic limits of the only place he could ever call home.

I think Outlook is one of the saddest and yet most hopeful stories in all of the AWTN series. I don't reread it often just because my heart breaks for V and everything he's going through. It's hard enough being a teenager trying to find your way in the world without the added burden of believing that you can never be or have all the things everyone else takes for granted.

Changes:

““His face was still locked into the terrible blank carelessness, the same as when he'd gone straight at the fire through whatever was between. He was breathing in harsh, aching grunts, jaw dropped, bottom fangs showing. Motes of spray jeweling his rough mane and the finer hair of his lower face and muzzle; eyes gone indigo-dark and hugely dilated, looking not into hers but lower.”” Why hello, Buster. Also, the two of them just staring at each other as wonder poured out of Diana instead of fear.... one of my favorite moments.  

Also one of my favorites. D knows what he's capable of and what he's done and will probably do again, but he's still this wonderful revelation to her and she accepts those parts of him as quickly and comfortably as she does his "better" aspects.

We’re both dead anyway so why not just live is a great philosophy for Vincent. Perfect approach, Diana. 

Yes. 🥰

Ghosts:

Smyth referencing Jenny (I believe?) because of Diana’s red hair-- nice. 

I have a different take on that. Smythe is a bit of a ditz and I've always thought that Kristopher must have put a bug in his ear someway or another about D and her connection to Cathy and the fact that she had red hair and was looking for a place to live. Wouldn't surprise me if V and Kristopher also had a conversation about her at some point after the fire. I like to think V and K talk often.

Vincent talking about considering killing Elliot in S2-- can’t remember if that was a scene from the episode, a deleted scene in the scripts, or a Nan creation in her novelization (in which case, her lore was locked down years before she actually wrote the novelization.) 

That's all Nan. But the conjecture she had about V considering eliminating Elliot at some point is rock solid, IMO. V is a very pragmatic man, after all. And more than a little ruthless at times.

I’ve always wondered why Cathy doesn’t speak to Vincent through Kristopher-- likely setting up The Darkling Plain. Interested to figure it out as I go.

I think that's safe to assume. Or maybe it's as simple as it being against the rules - on whatever metaphysical plane those rules are set forth and by whomever sets them. In other words, who knows? And your guess is as good as mine. 🤷🏼‍♀️

This was fun. I love these opportunities you give me to look back and ponder things anew. Thanks for that. Always a pleasure!

[sadprosed]

𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬  𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

↬   THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THORNS,  midnight  tales  and  dangerous  magic.   (  2017  )  by  leigh  bardugo.

sentences  taken  from  or  inspired  by  the  collection’s  dialogue  &  narration.

+   feel  free  to  change  pronouns  !

i.    AYAMA  AND  THE  THORN  WOOD.

‘  love  speaks  in  flowers.  truth  requires  thorns.  ’

‘  we  all  know  the  story  of  how  the  queen  becomes  a  queen.  ’

‘  we  should  leave  this  place.  ’

‘  no  doubt  it  will  come  and  devour  us  all.  ’

‘  the  beast  will  laugh  you  right  out  of  the  wild  lands.  ’

‘  you  know  how  the  stories  go.  interesting  things  happen  only  to  pretty  girls.  ’

‘  is  the  wood  much  worse  than  a  garden  overgrown  with  pricklers  ?  ’

‘  stupid  girl  !  do  you  wish  to  become  a  monster  ?  ’

‘  strike  me.  cleave  me  in  two.  ’

‘  you’re  as  thorny  as  the  wood.  ’  

‘  there  is  but  one  rule  in  my  wood.  speak  truth.  ’

‘  perhaps  you  might  show  mercy  freely.  ’

‘  just  eat  a  bit  of  the  sun  to  fill  the  sky,  and  you  will  feel  empty  no  longer.  ’

‘  what  nonsense  !  of  course  that’s  not  how  the  story  ends.  ’

‘  some  people  are  born  with  a  piece  of  night  inside,  and  that  hollow  place  can  never  be  filled.  ’

‘  what  do  i  care  for  winter  ?  no  season  touches  this  wood.  ’

‘  you  know  the  only  bargain  i  will  make.  ’

‘  sometimes  the  unseen  is  not  to  be  feared  and  those  that  are  meant  to  love  us  most  are  not  always  the  ones  that  do.  ’

‘  bad  fates  do  not  always  follow  those  that  deserve  them.  ’

‘  no  prince  is  worth  your  life.  ’

‘  are  you  so  eager  to  be  eaten  ?  ’

‘  they  have  told  me  to  return  with  your  heart.  ’

‘  you  think  to  love  a  monster  ?  ’

‘  a  man  like  you  is  owed  no  words.  ’

ii.    THE  TOO  CLEVER  FOX.

‘  you  are  doomed  to  a  miserable  life.  ’

‘  better  to  be  hungry  now  than  to  be  sorry  later.  ’

‘  what  will  everyone  say  when  they  see  such  a  face  ?  ’

‘  we  have  not  gone  so  soft  as  that.  ’

‘  you  think  that  we  will  let  you  live  on  foolish  promises  ?  ’

‘  you  have  bested  me.  that  much  is  clear.  ’

‘  will  you  not  free  me  ?  ’

‘  you  will  have  a  fine  time  of  it,  i  can  tell  you.  ’

‘  i  can  bear  ugliness.  i  find  the  one  thing  i  cannot  live  with  is  death.  ’

‘  if  you  will  only  cease  your  talking,  i  will  gladly  go.  ’

‘  where  he  went,  he  bled  the  woods  dry.  ’

‘  what’s  a  bit  more  blood  ?  ’

‘  you  should  leave  this  place.  you  are  not  safe  here.  ’

‘  with  such  big  eyes,  i  think  you  see  too  much.  ’

‘  will  you  not  tell  me  what  troubles  you  ?  ’

‘  why  do  you  stay  with  him  ?  you’re  pretty  enough  to  catch  a  husband.  ’

‘  just  because  you  escape  one  trap,  doesn’t  mean  you  will  escape  the  next.  ’

‘  first  i  must  find  my  courage.  ’

‘  few  can  resist  the  sight  of  a  pretty  girl  crying.  ’

‘  the  trap  is  loneliness,  and  no  one  escapes  it.  not  even  me.  ’

‘  in  the  wood,  even  songbirds  must  be  survivors.  ’

iii.    THE  WITCH  OF  DUVA.

‘  there  was  a  time  when  the  wood  ate  girls.  ’

‘  be  back  before  dark.  the  trees  are  hungry  tonight.  ’

‘  who  can  say  what  shapes  an  appetite  ?  ’

‘  this  is  my  home,  you  can’t  just  send  me  away.  ’ 

‘  don’t  be  foolish.  there’s  plenty  of  light.  ’

‘  well  then,  come  help  me  stir  the  pot.  ’

‘  i  will  warn  you  just  this  once.  go.  ’ 

‘  you  cannot  come  and  go  from  this  place  like  you’re  fetching  water  from  a  well.  ’  

‘  hope  made  me  stubborn.  ’

‘  stay  there  and  keep  quiet.  i  don’t  need  rumors  that  i’ve  been  taking  girls.  ’

‘  i  will  not  have  you  bring  a  monster  to  my  door.  ’

‘  you  know  that  you  are  welcome  to  remain  here  with  me.  ’

‘  i  will  follow  her.  i  will  peck  out  her  eyes.  ’

‘  believe  me.  say  you  believe  me.  ’

‘  dark  things  have  a  way  of  slipping  through  narrow  spaces.  ’

iv.    LITTLE  KNIFE.

‘  it  is  dangerous  to  travel  the  northern  road  with  a  troubled  heart.  ’

‘  if  you  are  lost  in  your  own  thoughts,  you  may  find  yourself  stepping  off  the  path  and  into  the  dark  woods.  ’

‘  she  was  beautiful  from  the  moment  of  her  birth.  ’

‘  why  must  i  be  the  one  to  hide  ?  ’

‘  do  you  think  i  am  so  foolish  or  so  cruel  ?  ’

‘  water  only  wants  direction.  it  wants  to  be  told  what  to  do.  ’

‘  always  you  have  done  my  bidding,  but  what  good  are  you  to  me  now  ?  ’

‘  soon  i  will  be  very  rich,  but  will  i  have  a  good  man  ?  ’

‘  that  is  a  question  for  the  river.  ’

‘  your  tongue  is  not  fit  for  my  true  name.  ’

‘  will  you  come  with  me,  and  be  bride  to  nothing  but  the  shore  ?  ’

‘  she  was  terrifying  in  her  beauty,  bright  like  a  devouring  star.  ’

‘  remember  that  to  use  a  thing  is  not  to  own  it.  ’

‘  should  you  ever  take  a  bride,  listen  closely  to  her  questions.  ’

v.    THE  SOLDIER  PRINCE.

‘  this  is  the  problem  with  even  lesser  demons.  they  come  to  your  door  in  velvet  coats  and  polished  shoes.  ’

‘  you  will  find  great  love  and  more  gold  than  you  could  wish  for.  ’

‘  he’s  a  charming  fellow,  but  most  unusual,  and  peculiarities  seem  to  follow  him.  ’  

’  it  seemed  harmless  at  the  time.  ’

‘  he  needed  a  girl,  still  malleable,  one  that  he  could  make  admire  him.  ’

‘  this  is  pleasant.  this  is  enough.  ’

‘  are  you  my  soldier  ?  are  you  my  prince  ?  ’

‘  i  have  not  come  to  fight,  only  to  talk.  ’

‘  wanting  is  why  people  get  up  in  the  morning.  it  gives  them  something  to  dream  of  at  night.  ’

‘  i  am  perfectly  real.  ’

‘  she  loves  you,  though,  and  that  will  make  it  harder.  ’

‘  best  not  to  ask.  i  think  the  answer  would  please  no  one.  ’

‘  we  can  stay  forever  in  the  land  of  dreams.  ’

‘  kiss  me.  take  me  from  this  place.  ’

‘  i  sent  you  to  die  a  hundred  times.  ’

‘  i  eat  the  wonder  in  their  eyes.  ’

‘  you  were  an  idea  in  my  head.  you  were  nothing,  and  to  nothing  you  will  return  when  i  think  of  you  no  more.  ’

‘  you  wanted  only  that  i  might  live.  you  would  sacrifice  your  own  life  to  make  it  so.  ’

‘  are  you  my  darling  ?  are  you  mine  ?  ’

vi.    WHEN  WATER  SANG  FIRE.

‘  you  wish  to  strike  a  bargain.  ’

‘  make  me  someone  new.  ’

‘  this  is  the  problem  with  making  a  thing  forbidden.  it  does  nothing  but  build  an  ache  in  the  heart.  ’

‘  easy  magic  is  pretty.  great  magic  requires  that  you  trouble  the  waters.  ’

‘  no  one  expects  me  to  accomplish  anything.  ’

‘  i  can  smell  your  ambition  like  blood  in  the  water.’  

‘  i  know  that  you  should  keep  it  like  a  secret,  not  shout  it  like  a  curse.  ’

‘  yes.  i  can  imagine  it  all.  ’

‘  you  are  worth  more  than  that.  you  should  not  have  to  earn  him.  ’

‘  hope  rises  like  water  trapped  beneath  a  dam,  higher  and  higher,  in  increments  that  mean  nothing  until  you  face  the  flood.  ’

‘  there  is  no  pain  like  the  pain  of  transformation.  ’

‘  take  your  pleasures  as  you  will.  ’

‘  come,  and  i’ll  tell  you  all  you  wish  to  know.  ’

‘  he  made  me  dream  of  things  i  cannot  have.  ’

‘  i  do  not  care  for  dancing.  ’

‘  look  into  the  mirror,  and  try  to  deny  it.  ’

‘  you  have  never  been  like  the  others,  and  you  never  will  be.  ’

‘  we  were  not  made  to  please  princes.  ’

‘  i  am  not  quite  mortal  either,  and  i  have  many  lives  to  live.  ’

‘  i  wouldn’t  care  if  you  were  part  human  or  part  frog.  ’

‘  my  voice  is  not  enough.  ’

‘  you  know  i  was  never  strong.  ’

[harrowharkwife]

"it should hopefully buy us a bit more time." 👀? this is not the first time (ha!) that the idea of 'buying time' has come up this season. just food for thought.

may bringing her boyfriend darius by as a surprise, her parents not knowing who to expect, thinking she was bringing a friend or a roommate but instead she brought her partner.

"no, this is all wrong. you've got Schipp International sitting next to ZenithPro. / the donors are seated exactly as you asked, sir. i wrote down all your instructions verbatim. / welp, you must have heard wrong. we all make mistakes, just put RevitaThon next to Post-Everest and we should be fine." schipp/ship, right by zenith? the seating charts being wrong and needing tweaking. revitathon- like, revived, revitalized, rescued, brought back, made new again next to POST-EVEREST. as in, just beyond the mountain peak. or, in storytelling terms, the climax. the ship (buddie) can't be at its zenith (peak, glory days, its brightest) just yet. just move the buddie comeback/revival to right after the big plot climax and we should be fine. Y'ALL. THIS IS IT. especially after that very loaded dialogue from karen in tomorrow, about the programmers "finding the exact right series of maneuvers to make the robots do exactly what we want them to do" and "we need to make sure every single piece of this mission is in perfect shape to give it the best chance of success."

"what are you waiting for? just fix it." us, lol!

"i fantasied about it so many times, you have no idea. but this time i think my subconscious actually made it happen." manifestingggggg

"i'm just saying, i thought we were past the whole keeping secrets phase."

"sometimes talking about your dreams makes it seem all too real. sometimes the fantasy is better than the reality." this paired with earlier lines from animal instincts, "probably knew it'd make for a good cover. smart kid" and "sometimes half the thrill is thinking you're getting away with it." y'all.

"no idea. he's not spilling, i don't feel like pushing."

"i can't believe we're doing this. i know. we're finally about to live our fantasy. this is gonna be so much better than a plane. everybody does a plane. this is legend." you Cannot tell me these lines aren't the writers getting hyped about being able to say they made buddie happen, how groundbreaking it would be. this happening, overhead but hidden and out of sight, while the firefam talks about first kisses? and secret crushes? and said first kisses making you realize you've been looking for love in all the wrong places, and ignoring the perfectly good option that was right under your nose, because you'd just never considered it before? yeah, no, this was loud. especially combined with a line from earlier this season that was something like "we've been working on this mission for five years now. if we don't do something big, we'll get left behind."

"that sounds traumatizing. / illuminating, actually. i realized i was kissing the wrong suarez. his sister martina was more my speed." just like how eddie was originally written for the girl buckley sibling, but the writers + jen realized her brother buck was more his speed?

"i don't know why i tell you guys anything."

"keep young people too distracted to see what's really there." i'm incredibly iffy/hesitant on including this one, considering who said it 😬😬😬😬😬 i highly doubt it's foreshadowing, and that scene/plot was about may & darius & athena, and important social commentary on incels, above all else. i only mention this line bc when i was going through the script it reminded me that there's been a general theme so far this season in terms of weird one-off dialogue lines referring to buying time, element of surprise, paying attention, distractions, secrets, etc. i don't think it's all a coincidence, not with this show. not when the season pilot was literally titled "let the games begin." nope.

"listen, may, fantasy or not, there's no room for error in these situations."

"great. so we lost the element of surprise, too." you guys i cannot begin to explain how much this made me go 👀🚨🛑🧨⁉️ ESPECIALLY after an earlier dialogue line this season where maddie said "you just learned how the element of surprise can shift a listeners focus and make them pay attention"

"he knows that his options are running out real soon."

"-roll cold. no lights, no sirens." secrecy, and element of surprise, AGAIN

"i understand. not everyone's built for my pace." not everyone's willing to stay tuned for this slow of a burn, and i think they get that, but they're not willing to compromise on their storytelling and rush things just to satisfy the audience. this is a good thing!

"so how long are we gonna be able to convince ourselves that this is a sustainable way to live? / as long as we need to. when the right dream house presents itself, we'll know. but in the meantime, this is a pretty great fantasy, too." LMFAO this one is pretty self explanatory. when the time comes, we'll know, but in the meantime this is still a good story. this is especially juicy paired with all the back and forth re: buck, and happiness, and when you're "truly at ease," you'll know.

"so how long do you plan on standing guard out here? just until they get inside."

"all those milestones start to seem like a stupid fantasy. / looks like that fantasy's turning into a reality. how's that feel? / pretty damn good." you guys. it's happening.

"bobby: with everything may and darius have been through, i don't mind waiting for dinner, but how much longer? (does this not sound like us, talking about buddie and the shooting and the will?) athena: i think they're almost done." (‼️‼️‼️)

"there is nothing quite like being young and in love. or just in love." we ended the episode on "in-love". and not young love, either- stable, mature, deep, true, adult love. hm.

all this, in one episode. y'all this ep was fucking loud.

[legit9thlunaticwarrior]

I got another one! You’ll love it! 😇

I wanna request this one specifically for you! 76. unrequited love that is now requited, and a kiss that proves it from the a hundred different kisses prompts & “i wish i could hate you.” from the 200 random dialogue prompts with Angelo Parker, your true love ❤️

cant get no peace in this dollhouse. yes the title is a dodie clark song

|remember to leave feedback and i love all you heathens|

'Would You Be So Kind?' Angelo Parker (Jeff) x fem!reader

gif from @junglehooks

👔 you were like a lovesick puppy when it came to jeff. some would call it an obsession. it wasn't to you though

👔 the two of you were no strangers; having worked in nxt together in years past, but it was like he never noticed you

👔 kiera couldn't wrap her head around how blind you are. he always asked about you. after all: hogan does know best

👔 what you like to do outside of work. favorite things. how he should approach you

👔 she started to feel caught in the middle so she enlisted the help of one of his stablemates: tay melo. tay was a friend of yours and knew she'd want to assist

👔 tay had tampered with that switchblade comb he carries with him everywhere. you were known as a little tinkerer on the roster so she would direct him to you

👔 "i told you to stop flipping it open and closed when you don't need to." matt scolded. tay piped up to mention you could fix it

👔 "you can ask Y/N. she fixed that stereo for max and anthony, i'm sure she can fix your brush."

👔 "it's a comb, for the millionth time." he corrected her, "where can i find her?" she directed him to catering and texted kiera that the plan was in motion

👔 he found you talking to kiera. whatever it was, you seemed to be passionate about it. he saw your eyes had an even more beautiful shimmer in them as you spoke.

👔 "hey, Y/N, uh, could you maybe," he cleared his throat nervously, "maybe help me with this comb? i don't know what happened to it and i know you're great at fixing things."

👔 you could feel the nerves kicking in and when you turned to kiera, she was gone.

👔 "uh, yeah! sit down and lemme see it?" he quickly took the now vacant seat next to you and handed you the retro hair tool. "how long have you had this? i haven't seen one of these things since my days of going to the barbershop with my nana to pick pop up." you asked as you examined the comb

👔 "i don't remember at this point, couple years now." he put his arm around the back of the chair you were sitting in and leaned closer to you; watching your eyes determine the problem

👔 a moment had passed and "ahha i see! couple screws are a little loose. easy fix." you turned your head and noticed how close he was. "is it something you can do now? it's okay if no-"

👔 he shut his mouth when he saw you remove a pin from your hair and manipulate the shape of it to accommodate the tiny screws. you pulled the loose ones out to check if they were stripped and he couldn't help but watch in awe

👔 how the piece of hair, that was now free from the tiny metal confinement, flowed to frame your pretty face perfectly. your tongue poking out through your teeth and locked in eyes focused on fixing the comb;

👔 truly lost in his own thoughts until your hand waved in front of his face gently "um, jeff? she's all fixed." you handed him the comb but he just sat there after taking it. "can i ask you something?" you nodded your head a bit

👔 "how come, after all the time we spent in nxt, did we not talk?" you thought for a second about answering with a lie. oh i don't know. maybe because you took up half my brain space? almost every other girl we worked with you flirted with but never with me? that for years 'i was completely and irrevocably in love with' you but you never even looked at me? is not what anyone needed to hear... or so you thought

👔 "is that true?" he asked. it had dawned on you that everything just spilled out when it wasn't supposed to. you would have happily taken it to the grave. you sighed, but nodded in defeat. "i thought you didn't like me. or hated me for that matter. i thought there was something wrong with me."

👔 his hand came up to your face and stroked your cheek with his thumb, "hate you? i wish i could hate you. i never thought i had a chance with you. the first day you walked into the performance center i wanted to talk to you." you noticed him looking from your eyes to your lips and back. you couldn't stop yourself from biting your lip nervously

👔 his thumb moved down to pull it from your teeth. he looked in your eyes, silently asking for permission, to which you nodded yes

👔 it was gentle, yet oh so passionate

👔 "i know that one kiss can't make up for all those years lost, but i can try."

~~~~~~~

lovely taglist babes (form in pin to be added) @josiewrites @wwenhlimagines @plentyoffandoms @sunshinevirus @sultryfandoms @alexisquinnlee-bc @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @1rsolideranna @eddiefrickenmunson @daddyhausen

[spacedikut]

the blessing of a blizzard ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a blizzard leaves the team holed up in the bau office. spencer can’t stop thinking about your elusive boyfriend, mike, who might not be your boyfriend after all. 4.3k

a/n: festive fic! kind of! im too scared to do a final check so if there’s errors or i misuse pronouns just lemme know ily happy holidays ! thank you to the incredible @homoose for helping with dialogue :D

Mike. His name is Mike, and Spencer hates him.

Full name Michael, Spencer presumes, which comes from Hebrew meaning “who is like God?” A rhetorical question, implying there is no person like God, Michael was one of the archangels in Hebrew tradition and the only one identified as an archangel in the Bible.

What Michael should mean, however, is the guy that stole your heart and left Spencer thinking things very unlike him – that Mike, a man Spencer has never met and that clearly makes you very happy, has a really stupid name, for example.

There are three things Spencer knows about him:

1. Ever since you started deciding on his wardrobe, ladies love him. It makes you a little jealous, apparently.

2. You love baking him homemade treats whenever you can. Like a movie playing in his head, Spencer can perfectly remember you excitedly chatting with Garcia and Emily, animatedly explaining how excited Mike gets when he sees you’ve made something just for him.

3. Mike can be a bit of a dick, actually. There have been several mornings you’ve come in with a long face, leaning back in your desk chair far enough to view the world upside down and whining about how grumpy Mike was that morning, how you had to tip-toe around your apartment lest he get mad.

You’d called him your soulmate, added that he’s a light in your life you didn’t know you needed until you had him. You’re a person who chooses their words carefully, so when you’re walking around putting Mike and soulmate in the same sentence, you mean business.

That business is ripping Spencer’s heart out of his chest, apparently. Because you’re busy showing JJ pictures of him on your phone right now, blissfully unaware of the subconscious glare Spencer is lasering into your phone as he leans against the jet counter.

Spencer’s never had the honour of seeing Mike (a genuine word you used – honour) and you know what? Spencer doesn’t want to know what Mike looks like. Spencer doesn’t care. Mike’s probably ugly, anyway, and Spencer’s confidence within himself grows day by day and if there’s one thing he’s learnt recently it’s that comparison is the thief of joy and-

“Oh!” JJ exclaims, “He’s gorgeous!”

Fuck Mike. Really, fuck him.

+++

The floor is slippery beneath everyone’s feet, the surrounding area slowly losing its mixture of colours to blend into one coat of white.

It’s snowing.

Garcia greets the team, a steaming cup of tea in her bejewelled hands, and everyone gets to work right away. There’s whispers of the snow getting heavier and sticking and covering more and more ground with more and more depth; people are rushing against the proverbial clock to get done and get home before they’re all stuck.

But that won’t happen, right? If people were genuinely concerned about getting snowed in, surely everyone would’ve been sent home early as a precaution. Right? Right?

Wrong.

Rossi’s the one to notice it, calling out, “Check it out. Snow’s pretty bad.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like they’ll race to the windows then deflate with disappointment because you couldn’t even create a single snowball with that light coat, but holy hell people are walking around with snow up to their ankles and it’s still coming down thick. And then the lights are flickering and JJ is making frantic calls home to Will and Hotch is exiting his office, phone pressed to his ear, calling everyone to attention:

“There’s a blizzard incoming. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be on the roads, so we’re being told to sit tight. You should all try to call home, just in case; we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

Some people still brave it, still try to head on home, and whether they make it or not is up to the Gods. The team glance around, varying expressions – Emily and Derek look pissed, JJ is worried, and you and Rossi are straight-faced. Penelope is bouncing in excitement.

“It’s like a sleepover!”

All Spencer can think about is how Mike will have to suffer another day without you. He bites back a smile.

+++

Spencer’s straining his neck, butt barely on his desk chair, in attempt to see around all the bustling people that stand between you and him. Through the glass BAU doors, on the phone, your shoulders are slumped and you kick your boot against the floor a few times to channel your multitude of emotions into something. He hopes Mike isn’t giving you a hard time for something that isn’t within your control.

Emily looks up from her monitor, where she’s doing Christmas shopping even though it’s Christmas Eve, and looks thoroughly amused by Spencer’s internal battle of wanting to watch you but not wanting it to be obvious.

“You good, Reid?”

Spencer flinches like Emily pinched him. “Yeah, good. Fine. Are you good?”

Emily makes a show of slowly turning to look at you, still on the phone, then slowly turning back to Spencer’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirks. “You think they’re talking to Mike?”

Yes, Spencer does think that, but he’d made a point to not fully acknowledge it. And there’s something about Emily’s smugness that tells Spencer she’s teasing him – she knows something he doesn’t and it makes his eyes narrow. “Probably. Why?”

Whatever the response is, Emily’s barely opened her mouth before she’s interrupted by Penelope Garcia gracefully clapping her hands, getting the attention of every BAU member. The team quiets and all eyes are on Penelope. Except Spencer, who watches with concern as you sneak back to your desk, a furrow to your brow and downward dips either side of your mouth.

“I know these are less-than-great circumstances, and we’re stuck in work of all places, but that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little fun! So…”

She wildly gestures for Hotch to step forward, a cheesy grin on her face and a gleam in Hotch’s eye that tells everyone he’s also smiling but internally, and she takes the three large boxes he was carrying like the good sidekick he is.

“We’re building gingerbread houses!”

There’s exclamations of surprise and joy; Emily lights up at the idea of doing anything other than work or sitting at her desk, and JJ takes a box to look it over before asking, “Where did you get these?”

Hotch answers. “They were supposed to be for the kids,” He shrugs, holding back a smile, “However, I guess we can use them now.”

“Yes,” Penelope nods, “Yes, we can use them now. Get your game faces on, because this is a competition. Hotch and Rossi are the judges, because they’re grumpy old men, and the rest of us will be in teams of two fighting to build the best gingerbread house the BAU has ever seen.”

Derek speaks up for the first time, just to insult Spencer. “I refuse to be on a team with Reid. He has no creative skills.”

Members of the team laugh and Spencer reacts indignantly. He wants to reply, but you’re already speaking.

“Hey! I’ll take him! Spencer’s great.”

Many heads snap to you when you speak, Spencer’s surely got whiplash, but you’re looking at him and smiling at him and him alone. He’s breathless at the sight, how you chose him and have literal stars in your eyes, yet all he can think is how undeserving he is of such a beauty. How undeserving anyone is, mostly Mike, to exist in the same reality as someone who puts the definition of beautiful to shame.

Spencer’s about to make the best damn gingerbread house the world has ever seen.

+++

So, building a gingerbread house? A little more difficult than originally thought.

Maybe it’s the sticky icing, or the temptation to simply eat all the sweet decorative candy rather than use it for its intended purpose, or…

Maybe it’s the pretty teammate Spencer has that keeps brushing against him, keeps brushing against his hands, and like a virus to a computer you completely wipe Spencer of all thoughts other than: Y/N.

Spencer caught you watching him while he was rolling up his shirt sleeves, caught you staring at his hands and trailing your eyes up his forearms, following the sleeves as they moved inch by inch up to his elbows.

Then, when Spencer was holding two pieces of gingerbread together, you were too lost in thought to put the icing between the cracks and cement them together. Your eyes were trained on the fingers pressing the pieces together. Spencer had to call your name three times to wake you up.

Then, something weird happened (if the previous instances weren’t weird enough). You two had been in your own bubble of hushed tones and accidental touching, surrounded by bickering and collapsing houses and at one point Emily offered Rossi twenty bucks if he just votes for her and JJ without them making a house, and suddenly it’s silent. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his blood pumping in his ears, and all he can feel is the warmth of your breath on his ear because you’re right there, over his shoulder, joining him in hunching over your creation to decorate it with all kinds of shapes and colours.

The close proximity is too much. It’s too much.

You lean even closer, shoulder and arm pressed directly against Spencer’s, and lift another hand to place a miniature candy cane next to the gingerbread door. The action causes your hand to brush Spencer’s, and for the first time ever he’s not jolting away like he’s been electrocuted, no, his hand stays there, hovering, waiting and hoping for more.

Hoping for more of you.

And you seem to realise, too, that Spencer’s reaction is abnormal. He can’t decide if you’re testing the waters, or if it was a mere accident. But what are you testing the waters for? Why are you trying to touch him? Why do you want to touch him?

He takes a sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees you turn to look at him, and he almost doesn’t reciprocate. Almost.

You’re so close, face so close to his own. You take the softest breaths, in and out, sending the gentlest puffs of air onto Spencer’s lips.

He has no idea what the fuck is happening. He doesn’t want it to stop.

Your eyes, always shining and full of an emotion Spencer can’t decipher, dance around his face – his eyes, to his nose, stopping on each cheek, back and forth and up and down. Spencer’s captured by them, unable to tear himself away, which has become quite the habit since he’s known you.

Then you’re looking at his lips.

Spencer blinks, hoping to clear away the obvious hallucination he’s having, but no. Nothing changes. Your gaze remains, unwavered, making Spencer subconsciously open his mouth. The softest gasp leaves it when your pupils dilate.

This is the perfect moment to kiss, right? Right here, in front of the gingerbread house you made together, decorated together, and now begin the start of something else together. It makes sense, it’s almost poetic, and Spencer’s thought about you and him in a relationship enough times to consider this opportunity good and sweet enough to regale everyone with in the future.

Can you imagine it? “We had our first kiss in front of the gingerbread house we slaved over together. We won the competition, too.”

There’s a loud clang – Penelope found an actual gong from somewhere – and Rossi announces that the timer has gone off and it’s time for the judges to vote for the winner.

When you gently pick up yours and Spencer’s creation and take it to a cloth-covered table, where Rossi and Hotch ominously stand with their arms crossed, Spencer is frozen in place.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

There’s no way you wanted to kiss him. It isn’t possible. You’ve never looked at him like that before. It must’ve been a mistake.

But you were so close…

No. If Spencer made that move, it would’ve ruined everything – your friendship, the festive fun, the atmosphere of the entire evening. Everyone’s expected to be stuck here for at least another six hours, and making it tense and awkward was not something Spencer is willing to do.

But your eyes…

Spencer can’t think about that fact too much. That could mean anything – dilated pupils don’t necessarily mean you’re in love. You could’ve gotten a good whiff of the gingerbread and felt hungry, or a song you really liked started playing from the playlist Penelope created. Or, most likely, Spencer thinks, you were thinking about someone else.

Your boyfriend, for example.

You have a boyfriend. Mike.

Of course, you were probably thinking of Mike. Your boyfriend.

Spencer almost kissed someone in a relationship, and he’s pretty sure you almost kissed him too.

+++

Much to Derek’s chagrin, you and Spencer win the gingerbread house contest.

Penelope was baffled, frantically gesturing to the Jacuzzi she made with icing and- Derek made miniature weights? Somehow? It looked chaotic.

“Practicality, my dear,” Rossi told her. “Who, living in a gingerbread house, is worried about working out?”

Even though you and Spencer were the winners, Derek and Penelope and their pouting (and calls for a rematch) took the attention away from the obvious awkward tension between the winners. Spencer stayed at the desk you worked at while you took your house to the judges, stayed at the desk when you were crowned and stayed at the desk when you cheered.

You looked at him, wide grin and happy eyes, and all he could do was tightly smile back. Give a thumbs up.

He gave you a thumbs up. You nearly kissed less than ten minutes prior. And all he could do was give you a thumbs up.

The light in your eyes dimmed, but you seemed to understand.

Understand what, exactly? Spencer’s not so sure either. But something clicked in your head – you nodded to yourself as if confirming whatever you’ve concluded, and turned your back to him.

That was an hour ago. Now, the team has spread across everyone’s desks. Turns out, Hotch is a big fan of gingerbread - he’s consumed most of Derek and Penelope’s creation, icing and all, while Rossi has decided now is a good time to open one of the many bottles of whiskey he has in his office.

Spencer believes having that much alcohol in your work environment is breaking some kind of rule, but the snow isn’t letting up and it looks like a sleepover in the BAU office is likely. He deserves a little whiskey.

And where are you in all of this?

Spencer won’t lie and pretend he hasn’t had you in his line of sight the entire time, so he’ll recap what you’ve been doing: laughing at Derek’s jokes, plaiting Penelope’s hair, eating the candy Emily and JJ didn’t use on their house.

You’d left the room to call home and check up on things (check up on Mike, Spencer thinks bitterly) and now you stand in front of the large window by the BAU elevators, watching the snow fall.

Spencer has the perfect view of you through the glass doors. When the call ends and you stay there, he grabs a paper plate, grabs one of the walls from yours and his masterpiece and makes his way towards you.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how he’ll even act, but he wants to talk to you. Things feel weird after the almost-kiss, and Spencer never wants things to be weird with you. He can’t have things weird with you. You hadn’t talked to him once since the competition, and he has a feeling you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

So he does. If that’s what you need, he’ll do it.

(He’s making this more dramatic than it needs to be, really, but he feels everything so deeply when it comes to you)

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice perfectly matches the snowy atmosphere. It makes you feel warm inside, like you’ve just taken a sip of hot cocoa, and so often he’s left goosebumps on your skin just from speaking.

Seeing the outstretched paper plate in his hand, you take it gratefully. “Hi there. Thanks.” You nod to the gingerbread that you begin breaking up.

You hand him the first piece even though he brought it for you, and it’s silent while you both chew thoughtfully and watch the pure white outside. It doesn’t feel weird, necessarily, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but you’re certainly more in your head than usual. You’re thinking a lot and, as much as it hurts him, Spencer knows you’re likely preoccupied by your boyfriend and not what transpired between you earlier.

It’s that thought, that disappointment settling into his chest, that opens his mouth unconsciously: “How’s Mike? Does he know you’re not making it home tonight?”

He regrets it immediately, worsened by the way you stop mid-chew, eyes dimming like Spencer’s taken a baseball bat and shattered the lights inside.

This is unchartered territory – talking about Mike with you – and you know it. Who, in their right mind, willingly asks the person they have feelings for how their relationship with someone that isn’t you is going? Does Spencer enjoy pain?

Although this is the first time Spencer’s mentioned Mike to your face (he’s mentioned Mike plenty to a laughing Derek), he’s been so close to presenting the topic many times. He wants to know so badly – wants to know how well Mike treats you, really treats you (he will profile you), if you see a long-term future with him and if not, on average how long does it take you to get over your exes? Just an estimate?

You swallow the gingerbread you’re eating. “He’s okay. My roommate has to take care of him, but at least he’s got someone.”

Huh?

Since when do you have a roommate?

And why is your roommate taking care of your boyfriend?

Oh. Guilt blooms in Spencer when it registers that he’s been thinking ill of a person that might be sick. No wonder you dote on him so much and seemed devastated to make that phone call home earlier - Mike needs you, you can’t be there for him, and you feel horrible for it.

Spencer feels horrible for having the subject of his anger be someone you so clearly cherish, so deeply love. He’s embarrassed that if he was asked to explain why he hates Mike so much, he’d have to tell them it’s because Mike has you, and you’re what Spencer wants. What about what you want?

“Take care of him?” Spencer asks. The concern is genuine, which is an emotion he never thought he’d have in regards to Mike. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh,” You shrug. “He needs someone watching over him at all times, that’s all.”

That’s all?

You continue. “Make sure he eats – and only eats what he’s supposed to. Give him his meds. Make sure he poops. Those kinda things.”

What?

“Your… roommate makes sure your boyfriend poops?”

Now, Spencer knows what you look like when you’re confused. Honestly, he has every facial expression you’ve graced him with tucked away in a proverbial box he spends too much time thinking about. He knows that when you’re trying not to laugh, you bite the inside of your left cheek. When you’re frustrated but need to present a professional front, you bite the inside of your right cheek. Happiness fills your entire face, like every inch is consumed by it, and you’ve trained yourself to transport anger to your hands, where they twist into tight fists and leave fingernail marks in your palms.

Confusion is one of his favourites (second only to joy – for obvious reasons. Have you seen your smile?) because it takes many forms. You’ve pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes, tapped your foot on the floor. When you do them all, Spencer considers it a jackpot. There’s something about the way you look when you’re presented with something you can’t quite figure out yet, when you’re perplexed, that just-

You make it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t be a genius when you’re around because you’re so pretty. You’re a vision and he can never rattle off information to you specifically because he will trip up and divert to talking about the beauty that is you and that would be embarrassing for many reasons.

But this type of confusion? The way you’re looking at him right now? He’s never seen this before. Your jaw has dropped, your brows are furrowed so deeply they might fall off, and you look… horrified.

“My… my boyfriend?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Mike?” He looks around, waiting for cameramen to jump out and tell him he’s being pranked, because why don’t you know who your own boyfriend is?

You move slowly, placing the half-eaten plate on the windowsill before turning to face Spencer fully. You take a second to compose yourself.

“Mike is my cat.”

Mike is…

“And he’s having digestive issues, so he needs to be watched pretty much full-time.”

Silence. Tense, weird silence.

“…You thought Mike was my boyfriend?”

Spencer sputters, then, because of course he did! “Yes! The way you talk about him was… it was… it seemed…”

He flustered, oh so flustered, hands flailing and face enflamed and burning from the inside out. How had he not known?! How had… how had your wires gotten so convoluted, so mixed?

Does everyone know that Mike is a cat? Is Spencer the only one out of the loop? The look Emily gave him earlier, that knowing too-smug look, was that…

She was making fun of him. She knew he thought Mike was a person, not a pet, and was teasing him because of it.

All at once, the world seems lighter and dimmer – a contradiction that leaves Spencer’s chest heaving – because the past year feels like a lie. He’s spent so long seeing the way you come to life when talking about Mike, sitting opposite you on the jet as you awaken like a dying flower watered when home got closer and closer, and it was all for… a cat?

There’s a mist over Spencer’s eyes as he recalls every overheard declaration of love and coos of how handsome Mike is, and you’re laughing. Spencer’s having a crisis in front of your very eyes and you’re laughing. Hunched over, a single tear falling from your eye, clutching your stomach because it hurts from the ferocity of your giggles.

By the time you quieten, your hand is over your mouth to cover the big grin that grounds him, gives him something other than this revelation to focus on. Spencer’s still baffled, frazzled, but there’s the tiniest of smiles on his face because of how overjoyed you look. And he did that. Albeit his stupidity did it, but Spencer’s stupidity nonetheless.

You’re out of breath. “God I… I don’t even know what to say. You really thought my cat was my boyfriend?”

Spencer’s fighting a smile, lips wiggling. The way you’re looking at him now, all blinding smile and crinkled eyes, alleviates him of any anxiety he earlier had. Like you’ve wiped away his plate-full of worries, all the times it felt like he took an arrow to the heart, all the times he caught you smiling at your phone because you were looking at pictures of Mike, it’s all worth it. Because you’ve never looked like this while talking about Mike, and Mike is a cat. He isn’t a person, isn’t your boyfriend. Mike is a cat and Spencer has a chance.

Spencer has a chance.

“Does this… this means you’re single, right?”

A somewhat terrified look overtakes his face.

“Oh, shoot, you are single, right?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Yes, Spencer. I’m single.”

He lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” He repeats your nod, realises what he said could imply, and starts shaking his head. “Not-not good good. You’re incredible and need to be appreciated, but… good, because that means we could, you know…” He gestures vaguely. God, why can’t he get coherent words out? “If you wanted to, we could-“

“Are you trying to ask me out, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

Just to cause immense emotional distress, you raise an eyebrow, mischief clear on your face, and wait for him to continue.

“You want me to actually ask?” He winces.

“I’ve spent the last year convinced you didn’t like me, so, yes, I want you to actually ask.”

The new information sends ice down Spencer’s back because what? Since when? “You- what?“

“I’ve liked you for a while, Spencer,” You cross your arms over your body, slightly embarrassed. “But you always kept your distance so I did too, I guess.”

“I thought you were taken!” Spencer exclaims. “If I’d known I would’ve-we could’ve- I would-“

“You’d what, Reid?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, but there’s no denying you’re incandescently happy.

He takes a deep breath and asks what he’s wanted to for far too long. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Relief flashes in your eyes, like you didn’t fully believe what was happening until he finally asked, and words have never sounded as pretty as when you say: “Yes. Yes I would.”

Like lovesick idiots, you stand in front of the window with the snowfall as a backdrop, grinning at each other. You can’t help it – you lean up, press a kiss to his cheek that immediately sets his skin ablaze, and fall back onto your feet with a smile sweeter than all the sugar you’d consumed today.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

Somehow, despite the nerves and the way his heart is trying to leap into your hands, he manages to tell you, “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

+++

(Three weeks later, Spencer meets the Mike. Turns out he’s a nice guy. Spencer takes the first opportunity he can to apologise for all the bad things he said about him behind his back. The purring tells Spencer he’s forgiven)

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @prettyboy-reid @shadyladyperfection

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 12

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 4221

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

***********************************************************************

It had been a little over a week since the incident in the parking lot. You were more than eager to start your training with Dabi, but he kept insisting you needed to fully heal your ribs first.

Today you weren’t taking no for an answer. You had used your new fancy collar to call Katsuki and ask him to bring you some things. He made a few comments about not being your personal errand bitch, but he agreed none the less.

You were flipping through channels as you lounged on the couch when the doorbell rang.

Dabi immediately went on the offensive, hands lighting up as walked over to the security monitor to check the cameras. You made a mad dash for the front door. You knew it was Katsuki and you wanted to get to him before Dabi did.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dabi’s hand that wasn’t currently on fire reached out to try and grab you as you ran by, but you easily avoided it.

“Relax it’s for me! It’s just Katsuki.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” You could hear how annoyed he was, but this is what he gets for refusing to start your training.

You opened the door to an equally annoyed looking Katsuki. “Hey! Did you bring the stuff I asked for?”

He rolled his eyes, “Do you think I’d come all the way out here if I didn’t” He handed you a gym bag that was way heavier than he made it look. You took it from him and almost toppled over with how heavy it was.

He smirked as he grabbed your elbow to steady you. “So… you’re getting back into shape? You know I wouldn’t mind training with you like we used to. You were always a good work out.”

You beamed at him, “Seriously? That would be awesome! Dabi said he doesn’t want to.”

Dabi growled in displeasure, “Oh fuck off. I never said that. I’m going to train with you AFTER your ribs are done healing.” He pointed to the bag that was now slung over your shoulder. “What’s in the bag?”

You started backing up towards your room. “Just some work out stuff. You know so Katsuki and I can start training.” You sprinted towards the room before Dabi could argue with you.

“FUCKING BRAT!” Dabi rolled his eyes before looking at an amused Bakugo. “I swear to god If you show up here unannounced one more fucking time, I’ll move us somewhere far away where you can’t find us.”

Bakugo crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, “Yeah good luck with that. Besides I was invited.” He gave Dabi a shit eating grin. “I know she only called me to get under your skin. She wanted something, you said no, and now here I am giving her what she wanted.” He shrugged, “And I’ll keep giving her what she wants. Again and Again. As long as I have to.”

Dabi’s nostrils flared as he attempted to keep his temper in check. “Sounds pretty pathetic if you ask me.”

Dabi expected that to light Bakugo’s infamous short fuse, but instead the man just chuckled. “No pathetic is what you’re going to be after she’s done with you.” Bakugo took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Take it from someone who trained with her almost every day for years… She will chew you up and spit you out.” He gave Dabi a cocky grin, “I wasn’t kidding when I said she was a good workout. I almost wish I had time to stick around and watch her kick your ass.” He checked his watch, “If she hurries I might have time to watch for a little while.”

“First you listen to us have sex, now you want to watch us work out. You are such a little perv.”

Bakugo opened his mouth but before he could make a retort you were skipping back into the living room doing a little twirl to show off your new workout clothes. You wore a matching burgundy sports bra and biker shorts, brand new black sneakers, and to Dabi’s surprise your collar. “Thank you so much Katsuki! They fit perfectly, even the sports bra!”

Dabi’s eyes cut to Bakugo’s, “Like I said… Perv.”

“My parents work in fashion idiot.” He rolled his eyes before turning back to you and giving you a genuine smile. “You look good. Remember to stretch, drink lots of water, and do a proper cool down. It’s been a long time since you worked out. Don’t try and go all plus ultra your first time.”

You returned his smile, “No promises. But I will try to go easy.” You leaned over and started to stretch giving Dabi and excellent view of your ass in your compression shorts. He was mesmerized by the way your muscles stretched and flexed under your skin. He knew you were strong, but he was about to find out how strong.

His eyes were glued to your ass until an annoying blonde boy cleared his throat. “What was that about me being a perv?” Bakugo quirked an eyebrow at Dabi. “If you can’t even watch her stretch… then you won’t stand a chance fighting her.”

Dabi scoffed, “No offense to you doll, but I think I have a little more composure then your pervy little friend here.”

You finished up your stretching and made your way to the backyard. “I don’t know… Katsuki may have struggled at first. But by the time we graduated he got really good at thwarting my attacks.” You gave Dabi a cocky smirk as the boys joined you in the yard. “I hope you’re ready because I can honestly say I’ve been looking forward to this for a while.”

Bakugo took a seat in one of the pool chairs and kicked his feet up like he was about to watch a movie, “And so have I.” He chuckled as he leaned back putting his hands behind his head, “It’s a shame Icy Hot’s not here to see this.”

You loved that Katsuki was so confident in you, but it was also making you really nervous. If the parking lot fight was any indictor, your fighting skills weren’t as sharp as they used to be. You slowly made your way to stand across from Dabi who was doing everything in his power to look unaffected and bored. His only give away was the subtle way his fingers twitched with your every movement.

You cracked your knuckles and took a fighting stance, “I’m not going easy on you.”

The look in your eyes was enough to make Dabi want to kneel at your feet. You looked dangerous and determined. You looked like a queen ready to hand out a death sentence. He closed his eyes for a brief second to collect his thoughts and in those few seconds you dove at him sweeping his feet out from under him.

You could hear Bakugo laughing loudly from his chair, “She hasn’t even activated her quirk yet and you’re already jelly!”

You quickly rolled on top of him using your knee to pin his shoulder down. You activated your quirk, “See isn’t it just easier to submit to me? You could just let me tie you up and-“

Your words swam around in his head, it was the only thing he could concentrate on. He could think of nothing else other pleasing you. Doing what you said. You were right after all. It would be so much easier to just lay here with you. He didn’t even want to fight you to begin with. NO! This wasn’t right. You wouldn’t get any better if he didn’t try. He couldn’t give up so easily.

His hand came up and covered your mouth rolling over and pining you down. “Damnit that’s freaky.” He was still trying to clear his head when your tongue darted out from between your lips and started licking his palm.”

Bakugo was practically hollering over in his chair, “Oh you fucked up now!”

Dabi’s hand started to go numb. “Wait what? What the HELL! I thought it was only if I like drank your blood or some weird shit like that! How- How are you-”

Your eyes locked with his and you began a mental battle of trying to push into his head. You hand pressed into his side and started to overwhelm him with feelings of regret. You found it was the easiest way to break someone. Lots of people could push through pain. Lots of people push through lust. But regret was an emotion that ate away at a person over time. It only grew and festered until it drove people crazy. You saw a flash of fear in his eyes and you could only imagine what memories it was bringing up. This was supposed to be fun. You didn’t want to traumatize him, so you changed tactics.

Things were about to get really uncomfortable for Katsuki.

You switched up the emotion you were flooding him with to desire, and almost immediately regretted it. His hips snapped forward of their own accord as a growl left his lips. “Fuck! You really want to do this in front of blondie?”

You saw his composure start to slip and you used it to push past that last mental barrier. “Sumbit DABI!” You clouded his head with memories of the two of you making love and pushed harder, “Submit to me. Come on baby I know you want to.”

Dabi’s hold started to loosen, but once again he was hyper aware that this was you underneath him. His goal was to protect you. Giving in now wouldn’t help. He needed to help. So he started repeating that like a life-saving mantra in his head, “I can’t give up, I can’t give up, I can’t give up.”

You snapped out of his head so quickly that is startled you. “What the-?”

Dabi jumped away from you and scurried backwards. “Come on baby girl. You got to do better than that? You thought making me horny would cloud my judgement? I’m basically horny all the time around you.” He got to his feet, dismayed that not only was his hand still numb but he couldn’t seem to get his quirk to work in that hand either. “Your quirk won’t always be able to save you. Fight me one on one. No quirks.”

You jumped to your feet as well. “Oh, but I thought we were trying to not hurt my ribs?” He could hear the sass in your voice, and it made him want to spank you. He used the hand that wasn’t currently paralyzed to create a ring of blue fire around the two of you. He focused on the sound of flames, the way it smelled as it burned the ground below. He looked at you but not in the eye.

You dove out of the way as he swung at you. It was like a dance between the two of you. His attacks came at you full force and it was all you could do just to avoid him. You were permanently on the defense. You could seem to catch your breath long enough to switch to offensive. You were getting tired and your sore ribs were screaming at you to stop. But you couldn’t. You needed to push through it. He must have seen the way you were wincing because his eyes darted to your ribs.

You screeched as he started to shrink the circle, dragging you closer to him. “You weren’t complaining about your ribs when I bent you over the kitchen counter last night.” He shrank the circle even more. You reached out desperately to touch him, but he moved out of the way. Swatting your hands away at every move. The fire was getting closer and you were starting to panic. He could see it on your face. He reached out and grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to him. Intentionally locking eyes with you. “There is nothing you could show me, say to me, or make me feel, that would break me.” Your hands darted out and cupped his cheeks. You tried to fill him with fear, but in your panicked state his emotions overwhelmed yours instead.

All you could feel was determination, defensiveness, fondness, and a deep-rooted need to protect. You locked eyes with him again this time you knew his weakness. You stared him in the eyes with yours full of fear. The blue fire inched closer and closer until it singed your back and you screamed out in pain.

There was horror in Dabi’s eyes as he looked at his hands. “I’m not doing this. Y/n! Y/n I promise I’m not doing this. He attempted to extinguish his flames, but they only got hotter and closer.

You were sobbing into his chest now. “Please put them out… please!” Your screams echoed in his ears and the only thing he could do was panic. He was hurting you. It was his quirk and yet he couldn’t stop it. “DABI IT HURTS!”

The pain in your voice was like a cold water in his veins. It pushed him into action as he managed to finally retract his quirk. He felt the flames smother out, he heard your soft sniffles. But something didn’t make sense… There’s no way Bakugo would have let this happen.

All of the sudden his eyes snapped open and you were sitting on top of him. Perfectly fine. It took him a minute to register what had just happened. “I didn’t mean to play dirty, but you’re one hard dude to crack.”

He gripped the back of your neck and pulled you down to him and smothered you with a kiss. When he pulled back your face was red, and your expression was flustered. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” He pulled you to him as he rocked you back and forth. “I thought I hurt you. Shit….” He pulled you away from him and gave you a stern look, “You’re a fucking asshole for that. What is your problem?! I already have fucking nightmares about this shit and you want to make it worse?!”

You didn’t know if you should feel ashamed or laugh. “Look I said I’m sorry! I knew that was the quickest way to get you to submit! Psychological warfare is my specialty.” His eyes remained cold, but his hands were reassuring as they traveled up and down your back. You pushed some of his sweaty hair away from his face. “I can admit I went a little too far.”

“I’m leaving before this gets too fucking sappy!” Bakugo patted your head. “Good job. You’re definitely a little rusty, but better than I thought you’d be.” He gave Dabi a sly smile, “As much as I enjoyed watching you toy with staples, I want to spar with you next time I’m here. For old times sake.”

You wiped some sweat off of your forehead as you nodded at him, “Okay! I’d love that. Maybe you could teach Dabi some of our old combo attack. Your quirks are a little similar, so some of them might work.”

Bakugo shrugged, “I doubt he could pull them off like I can, but we can try if that’s what you want.”

You nodded enthusiastically looking from Bakugo to Dabi. You were still sitting in his lap and he was suddenly feeling very territorial. His arms reached out and caged you to him, “If it’s going to end up in a pissing contest, I don’t want any part of it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t be so broody. Gosh it’s times like this that you remind me of your brother.”

Dabi shoved you off his lap and started to make his way back to the house. “I’m not fucking broody. You literally just made me think I was burning you alive. So, forgive me if I need some time to get my shit together.”

He brushed past a smug looking Bakugo, “I tried to warn you. She’s ruthless man. I am impressed you figured out her loophole so quickly. Once you focus on a concrete goal it’s easier to tune her quirk out. I wonder what your goal was?”

Dabi glared at him, “Don’t you have someplace you need to be?”

Bakugo sighed, “Yeah, I’m actually going out of town. So, I won’t be back for a little while. I think Icy Hot wants to come visit soon though.” He nudged you with his foot. “So, you behave until I get back.”

You waved as he made his way back into the house, “No promises! Be safe on your trip!”

A few minutes of silence passes while Dabi still stood with his arms crossed refusing to look at you. “How long are you going to pout?”

“I’m not pouting. I’m resisting the urge to bend you over my knee, spank you, and edge you until you cry.” He finally looked at you, eyes not looking nearly as angry as his voice sounded. “But as a rational adult, I think I just might go drink until I forget what you made me see.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed your face into his back. “I’m sorry. I took it too far.” Your hands snaked under his shirt and pressed to his abs. You released a calm and content feeling. He immediately sank into your touch.

His breath hitched, “While I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I’d rather you not use your quirk on me right now.”

You reached up on your tippy toes and kissed the back of his neck. “Wanna go cuddle and watch TV?”

He took your hand from under his shirt and pulled you with him back into the house. “None of that romance shit.”

That’s how you ended up on the couch with Dabi laying on top of you with his head nuzzled into your breasts. His arms were tight around your middle and your fingers slowly trailed through his hair. You knew how exhausting it was for people when you messed around with their heads. It’s exhausting and disorienting, and while you weren’t at full capacity yet, you still had gone a little rough on Dabi today. You traced patterns on his shirtless back, and you listened to his steady breathing. He had passed out halfway into the first episode of whatever show he had insisted you watch.

You still had a lot of work to do to get back into shape. Not just with your quirk but physically as well. Dabi was right when he said you couldn’t rely on your quirk for everything. You’d have to start building your strength and stamina. You had a feeling Dabi might be hesitant to train with you again any time soon, but maybe you could convince him to do some cardio or something.

You softly chuckled as you imagined what kind of cardio he would have in mind. You felt him stir on your chest, his eyes remaining shut as he burrowed further into your chest. “What’s so funny?”

Your fingers kept playing with the ends of his hair. “What would you say if I asked you to do some cardio with me?”

He rolled over a little bit and bit your nipple through your shirt. “I’d say why are you still dressed.”

He was honestly adorable when he was this sleepy. It was the only time he seemed vulnerable. “I meant like going for a run.” His face scrunched up and your hand froze in his hair. “Oh, does that not sound like fun?”

His hand grabbed yours that had stopped, and forced it to keep running through his hair. “Not at all. Especially when there’s way better ways to get your cardio in…” He started kissing your chest, and then your neck. His hands moved to your ass picking it up off the couch to slot himself deeper between your legs. “We should test how far we can push you until your collar alerts me that you might need help.”

His fingers found the waistband of your shorts and started to pull them down. You hummed as his lips continued to mouth kisses at your neck. He was very affectionate and its not that you didn’t like it, you just felt like something was still bothering him. “Hey Dabi? What did you mean earlier when you said you had nightmares?”

He growled as he picked his head up to look at you, “You really know how to ruin the mood don’t you?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “We said we were going to open up more remember?” He shoved his head back to its spot on your chest, using you breasts as pillows.

“Ever since the pool incident… I get nightmares. I’m sure it fucked you with you too. I basically killed you. I honestly don’t know how you even come near me.” His voice was muffled and his grip on you tightened. “Today… what you did outside… please don’t ever do that again. I’m already a monster. I have enough nightmare fuel as it is. I’ve done really fucked up things and I can handle facing most of my demons. But whether I like it or not, you are definitely a soft spot for me.”

He kissed your neck as he made his way down lifting your shirt as he went. “You have gotten under my skin.” He kissed right above your still slightly sore ribs. “You have knocked down my walls.” His fingers found the waistband of your shorts again and yanked them down. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

In a burst of speed, he had your knees over his shoulders and your ass lifted in his hands. He kissed the inside of you left knee followed by the right. His kisses trailed down to the inside of your thigh giving it quick bite that had your hips bucking.

“I know that blonde idiot has confessed his feeling to you.” His thumb started rubbing circles into your clit. “So, I need you to know. That you are more than just a way to pass the time.” You felt a finger press at your entrance. “You are more than just some girl I’m supposed to protect.” His fingers plunged into you and started pumping. “You are more than some infatuation.” His fingers curled, hitting that spot inside you making you cry out. “You are more than I ever thought I deserved.” He gave your clit a hard lick. “But I have you now and I don’t fucking intend on losing you.”

Your fingers knotted in his hair as he began sucking your clit while he fucked you with his fingers. You instinctively knew how he felt. Of course you did, you’ve felt his emotions before. But to hear him say it made your heart skip, it made your head spin. He ate you out like he hadn’t eaten in days. One hand reached up and started pulling on your nipple and you lost it. Your hipped bucked up harshly and your legs shook. You came hard and he continued to lap up every last drop, riding you through it until you finally collapsed back onto the couch.

He grinned up at you, his chin still slick, “Good giiiiirl.” He sucked his fingers into his mouth cleaning them off before reaching for his belt. “Now let’s do some of that cardio you were begging for.”

Dabi was pressing his dick at your entrance when the doorbell rang.

You both froze.

Your shorts were yanked back up as Dabi grabbed his phone to check the security system. You watched his eyes narrow at his screen before his nostrils flared. “What the fuck!” Before you could even ask who it was the front door opened and in walked Shoto who apparently had his own key.

“Oh… Am I… Interrupting something?” He closed the door behind him, “Bakugo said he told you I was coming.”

“HE SAID SOON! NOT TODAY!” Dabi threw a pillow at his younger brother, obviously pissed off about the interruption.

Shoto ignored him and made himself comfortable on the recliner next to you. “Oh, well I wasn’t planning on coming today, but there’s been some developments you need to be aware of.”

You reluctantly sat up and separated from Dabi so he could face his brother. Dabi sighed as he gestured for Shoto to continue.

“There’s several people who are avidly looking for you. And some of them have gotten too close for comfort. That’s actually what Bakugo is doing right now. He’s hunting down a lead. He’s hoping to catch some of these so-called heroes in the act so we can start dismantling their accusations against you.”

The smell of smoke filled your nostrils as Dabi’s temper started showing. “What do you mean they’ve gotten close? How close? How many of them are looking?”

Shoto gave you a sad look. “They’ve made it a top priority. Your agency released a bounty to the underground. It seems every villain and crooked hero is currently looking for you. Shigaraki is one of them… and he somehow has a list of all of your safehouses.”

************

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