i had to send my nieyao drawings to my thesis teacher so he could see my drawing style bc i havent done any other drawings in like 2 years Whats Up
i had to send my nieyao drawings to my thesis teacher so he could see my drawing style bc i havent done any other drawings in like 2 years Whats Up
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PAST AND PRESENT 1812
Part 5 of 6
De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)
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“We must get under swiftly, back out to sea and back to our course,” I said.
With a twinkle in his eye, O’Hara responded, “Not so hasty, Lt. Sir, We been hard at work and while we do need to get under, and out of sight, we needs a rest before we goes on. Who knows what might come out of yon harbor with this favorable tide?”
I considered, “Your argument has merit, Mister Midshipman. We shall go below and rest, keeping an eye to the harbor mouth as we do so. Mind, we cannot rest for long.”
With a grin, he opened the scuttle for us. “Mind you don’t step on my fish,” he said lightly, as I climbed down into the interior of the Squid. I stepped carefully over the bag of fish and went to my forward station. O’Hara followed, securing the scuttle and hanging his bag of fish out of the way, as he got into the pumping station. We put up the periscope and brought the deck awash. At, “Slow stroke, Mister O’Hara,” he began to work the walking beam at a relaxed pace that he could keep up all day, if need be. We slid quietly below the surface and began holding station in a slow circle.
“You was sayin’ about the spy and such,” prompted O’Hara.
“Oh, yes. I had already hired Fox/Cox and put him to working with the paper spar project that Smollet wanted. Uncle Benny’s reply was all that I had hoped for. I hinted to Fox that it was but the tip of a hidden mountain. He worked with a will. He noticed that each experiment was carefully written down, what the paste was, how strong the spar was, before it broke, and how long it took to burn away when we were done with it. When I began to burn them by firing an alcohol blow lamp up the middle and seeing how long it took for them to burn a hole through the side, he suggested that I might try pasting one with potters’ clay slurry. It was not very strong, but it would not burn through.. He was mighty curious about what was going to do with all those tables of strength and heat resistance.
“I let it slip that we were building both a paper mill for continuous production of roll paper and also a new gunpowder mill ...
“Sail ho! Just coming out of the harbor. Let’s get a sight on her ... Steady,” I flipped the glass of the intercept timer and plotted both range and bearing. I made the adjustment for our movement and waited. When the sand ran out I checked range and bearing again. It was a textbook medium range intercept. I set our new course, lowered the periscope and took us to attack depth.
Perhaps it was the very textbook nature of the attack run that made me careless. The contact run was a short one, so I did not bother with a secondary periscope check. I had released a torpedo on its towline and it was following a hundred feet behind us, about eight feet below the surface.
Seeing the shadow of our target’s hull in the conning windows, I cried, “All speed, Mister O’Hara! We are about to miss our target! She is beam on and we should have been ahead of her!”
“Aye, Sir,” was all that he said as he began a truly heroic effort at the walking beam. I could hear him straining as our speed came up, three knots ... three and a half ... four ... four and a quarter! I was almost recklessly changing our course to better our chance of a hit. We passed under her hull near to the stern. Turning 45degrees toward her course we kept on, knowing that she was faster than we were.
“Did we miss, Sir?”
“I believe that we must have, O’Hara. You may resume cruise ...” That was as far as I got. The concussion of the exploding torpedo drowned out my pessimism.
“We got her after all!” a jubilant O’Hara shouted.
“We did indeed!” I agreed, dancing a little jig that ended by bumping my head on a deck beam. I rubbed my head as I brought us around in a northerly circle to get behind our prey, so that we could read her name-board. We put up the periscope in a leisurely way, and lowered the screen.
“HMS Castlemont,” I read out, disappointed at what I saw. O’Hara saw it too.
“She’s not sinking, Sir. We just blew off her rudder. At least she’s fallen off the wind. It’ll make it easier for us to hit her proper this time.”
“Aye, it will,” I responded bringing us back around to line up for a broadside attack. We brought the periscope down, released a second torpedo and began another attack run. This time, we took her cleanly amidships. The concussion of the torpedo rattling the Dancing Squid a second time. We came about to witness the sinking for our log.
By the time that we had her on our periscope screen, she was already listing heavily and smoke was billowing from her hatches and flames were already visible.
“Sir, we hit them below the waterline. Why do they burn like that?”
“It’s the way that the torpedoes are made. They are waterproofed with pitch. We mixed sulfur and saltpeter with the pitch to make it burn hotter, and even underwater. The forward end of the torpedo has a layer of pitch about four inches thick. It is blown inside as the hull is breached, and anything it hits, it sticks to and burns.”
With no warning at all, the ship dissolved in a vast ball of flame and smoke rising into the sky. The concussion, through the water, shook the Squid hard enough to throw me from my seat, and dislodged O’Hara from the pumping station. Everything that was not fully secured was scattered about the boat. The net bag had come open and fish were everywhere. Chief Thunderbeak, the finch, was fluttering frantically about his cage. There was no sign of the ship in the periscope screen, which was cracked.
“What happened, Sir?” a stunned O’Hara asked me, in a small voice.
“I do not know for sure. Even a magazine detonation would not destroy a ship like that. I can only guess that the Castlemont was carrying ammunition and supplies for the Mediterranean fleet.
“Let’s clean up this mess and get back to our course.”
“Yessir,” he replied, his voice shaking.
By the time that we had everything stowed, the Squid was rocking gently on the surface. We took a look about and lowered the periscope. In moments we were back under the water, heading southeast. O’Hara was driving us hard, far too hard to sustain for more than a short while. I could tell by his breathing that he was weeping. Instead of ordering him to moderate his pace, I let him flee the scene of the recent tragedy. I wanted to be gone from there, too.
Over an hour later, exhaustion began to moderate his pace. I locked the controls and went back to relieve him. Gently extricating him from the pumping station, I took over. He sat slumped at the navigation table, tear streaked face hidden in his hands. His shoulders shook. At last, he turned to me.
“It seemed so bonny, when we took the Hood, Sir. This was different. They never had a chance. If this is war, I want none of it. This feels like plain murder.”
“I know your feelings, and they are to your credit. This is not a war that we chose. They have been hanging our officers and taking our ships for over a year. At last we had to stand up to them.
“We of the Six Nations have lived in the Great Peace for four hundred years. In that time, none of our nations has fought any of the others. To keep that Peace for us all, we have had to fight many times. We have warriors to do the fighting and a Council that tells us when and where to fight and when to stop fighting. As bad as this was, it is no different.”
“Where is your Great Peace, when we kill men without no chance?”
TO BE CONTINUED
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i stayed up all night reading oshi no ko
Have not finished Word of Honor yet, but Wen Kexing I already love you so much ♥️
One of the most famous and insightful sentences in Christian history comes from the first page of Saint Augustine’s Confessions. As the book unfolds, Augustine describes his extensive experiences with unfulfilled desire. And so as if to give his conclusion beforehand, in the very first paragraph of the book he writes, “Thou has made us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless until they find…
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Day in Fandom History: April 21…
Finn and Jake follow the Lich to the Citadel, where Finn meets his long lost dad. But just how far does the apple fall from the tree? “Escape from the Citadel” premiered on this day, 7 Years Ago.
Day in Fandom History: April 21…
Grizz, Panda, and Ice Bear decided to switch rooms for a night, some like, some hated the idea, and while that is happening, the three bears discover secrets that they didn't even know about each other. “Rooms” premiered on this day, 5 Years Ago.
Day in Fandom History: April 21…
Prismo helps Finn and Jake commit a cosmic-level crime in order to access the Crystal Citadel to meet Finn’s father. The First Episode of Season 6, “Wake Up”, premiered on this day, 7 Years Ago.
So began the incestuous affair between Pat and her son. They continued their ordinary lives, Pat selling real estate and Stuart going off to school each day, but in the evening and on weekends, mother and son had a private life no one suspected. After the frenzy of the first few times, the sex between them became casual and unhurried. They lived together. They loved each ether. The only new thing was that now they satisfied each other sexually when one or both felt a need for it.
Stuart, of course, was more in awe of what had happened than his mother. He had never balled an adult woman before, and he understood the difference now. He was learning all kinds of things about sex. He had more confidence in himself. He wasn't timid with women and girls any more. He had a new boldness. Even his mother was aware of it. And the women and girls he met outside the house sensed he was a guy who knew what to do in bed.
But so far, since the affair began, he hadn't touched any woman except his mother. He was too busy thinking about Pat. Then as the weeks passed, as the affair simmered down to a steady heat, he began once again looking at the world around him.
There were new possibilities now. He looked at the girls and women he knew with greater understanding. He told himself that many of them would gladly fuck him if he gave it a try. The problem was to choose the right woman and the right approach. His math teacher, for instance. Miss Nancy Dale. . She wasn't that much of a knockout, but he'd always had the hots for her. He'd always found her incredibly sexy. Her long thin body. The subtle perfume she used. The way the curves of her ass showed
when she wore a thin dress. And she was unmarried, too. Did she have a boyfriend? The hell with her boyfriend, he thought. He'd give anything to fuck her, but it would never be possible if he didn't try.
He had no trouble talking to her. They knew each other well. She'd known him as a student for nearly four years. The next chance he had, during a lunch-break one day, he talked to her in a way he hadn't dared before. He flirted with her. They talked about popular music, and every chance he had he hinted that she turned him on.
Miss Dale seemed amused. She bantered with him. She smiled whenever he complimented her, but it was a smile that said we both know you don't mean it.
Stuart imagined himself fucking her. He wondered what would be the best way. With a long body like that, maybe it would best to have her on her back with her legs over his shoulders. He imagined her legs pointing straight up at the ceiling and wide-apart. He wondered what her cunt would look like in that position.
"I mean it," he said.
Miss Dale looked at him. "Mean what, Stuart?"
"I mean what I've been saying. You're a very sexy woman. I have fantasies about you."
"Oh my!" She seemed a bit taken aback.
She looked at him a long moment, as if her eyes were trying to penetrate his skull. She pursed her lips in thought. Then she said she wanted him to come to her classroom when the school day ended.
"Maybe we need to have a little talk," she said.
That afternoon, when school was let out, Stuart remained in the building and went to Miss Dale's room. There was nothing unusual about it. Students and teachers had conferences all the time. He had no idea what would happen. There was a possibility she might reprimand him for talking to her like that. But something in his gut told him that wouldn't happen. She's as horny as I am, he thought. He had a feeling about her.
He found her alone at her desk. She looked up from the papers, she was working on and smiled at him. He closed the door and sat down when she asked him to. He sat in one of the front row seats. She moved her chair to the side of the desk and they sat facing each other.
She started talking about teachers and students, and how sometimes a student might get a crush on a teacher.
"It's normal," she said. "You're young and inexperienced. It's perfectly normal for
a guy your age to think about an older woman like that."
Stuart shrugged. "I'm not that young and I'm not inexperienced. I've been with a grown woman before."
Miss Dale blushed. "I see." "Don't be angry with me." "I think about you all the time. "The fantasies."
She sighed. She seemed nervous. "All right, we'll talk."
He knew he had her when she began glancing at his crotch as she talked. She glanced once and then again. During the third glance he slowly opened his legs and she blushed.
"Tell me about the fantasies," she said. He came right out and told her. He said he had daydreams about making love to her. "I think about fucking you all the time."
Her smile vanished and a deep flush spread from her throat to her face. "You shouldn't talk like that."
"I'm just saying what I feel. Everybody knows the words."
"Yes, I suppose they do."
"I'd like to ball you."
"Just like that." "That's right."
"You may be too young for me, Stuart."
"Why don't you find out?"
She glanced at his crotch again and sighed. "All right, maybe I will. I hope I won't regret anything."
What she did was invite him to come home with her. She was very direct about it. She said it wasn't an easy thing for her to do. The school administration didn't approve of such things. She might get into trouble. He had to promise not to tell anyone. Stuart nodded.
"I promise," he said.
"What do you usually do after school?"
He shrugged. "My mom doesn't get home until seven. I usually go home and fix myself a sandwich."
"Then I'll fix you a sandwich at my place.. He didn't care about the sandwich. All he care about was fucking her. But he smiled at her and said that would be fine.
They rode in her car. They talked about school: Then the talk turned to sex. She seemed amused when he told, her he'd balled some of the girls in her classes.
"What about Christie Simpson," she said. "I see the way she looks at you."
"Not her. "Really?"
"I've never even dated her."
Miss Dale laughed. "The way she looks at you all the time, I thought you were lovers."
Then at last they arrived at her apartment. Once they were inside, Miss Dale seemed nervous again. There was no talk about fixing him a sandwich. All she could talk about was how warm it was. He could see the sweat on her upper lip. Then suddenly she backed him against a wall and kissed him full on the mouth.
"I hope you're good," she said. "I need someone who's good."
He could smell her perfume. He found himself quivering with excitement. He had been looking at this woman so long. Now here they were in her apartment. His cock was hard. When she kissed him again, he pressed the bulge of his cock against her belly.
"Oh my!" she said.
She dropped her hand and stroked the bulge. Her fingers moved up and down the length of his cock. She murmured something as she pinched his cockhead. Then she unzipped his fly, slid her hand inside and pulled his cock out into the open.
Holding his thick prick on her palm, she
looked down at it. "You're circumcised." "That's right."
She handled him carefully, as if she was afraid he might go off too soon. "These jeans are awfully tight. Can you get your balls out?"
He wondered why she didn't just tell him to drop his pants. Then he thought maybe she wanted to see his equipment hanging out of his fly. His mother seemed to like that sometimes. She said it turned her on to see his cock and balls hanging out. He slipped his hand inside his fly and scooped his nuts out ta dangle under his cock.
Miss Dale stepped back a bit to look at his exposed fuckmeat. "You're certainly not a child. It's a man's cock and balls, and a guy's face."
"Plenty good, buster. I hope you know how to use that thing. But first I'll say hello."
She dropped down to a crouch in front of him and gobbled his cock. No delicate sniffing and licking. What she did was open her mouth wide and take all of his cock down to the root. He was caught by surprise. He hadn't expected her to be so aggressive about it. This was a teacher everyone said was a dried up old bitch. He'd always suspected that wasn't true. Now here he
was with his cock halfway down her throat.
She held him there, his fuck-knob deep inside her throat. Then she slowly pulled back, all the way back to the tip of his prick. She pulled her mouth free of his cock and licked his pinhole.
"That's my hello," she said. "I like this banana, Stuart. I really do."
After that she rose up. She made him stand there with his cock and balls hanging out of his pants while she started undressing. She walked around the room, peeling off her clothes and talking about the school again.
"I hate the principal," she said. "He tried to fuck me once. He came here one night and I had to throw him out. What a silly old man he is. He drinks too much and then he gets randy and thinks he can fuck anyone he wants. Stuart, what a lovely cock you have! I've known you all these years, haven't I? Honestly, I can't say I've noticed you that much. Not in any special way, I mean. I never realized how mature you really were. Nicely furnished, as they say. I think I'm the one who's being seduced, you know. It's not you, it's me."
She was almost naked now. She had small tits with long dark nipples. Her nipples looked about an inch long. He had never seen nipples like that and he wondered what it would be like
to suck them. His mother had big nipples, but they weren't as long as these.
She worked at her panty-girdle now. She amused herself by being coy about it. "I'm not that much of a sex-pot," she said.
"You're enough for me, Miss Dale."
She giggled. "It might be better if you called me Nancy."
"All right, Nancy."
She turned her back, peeled the panty-girdle all the way down to expose her ass. The girdle came off and she turned around to face him again.
"There," she said.
She had the hairiest crotch he'd ever seen. Wild hair growing everywhere, all over her crotch and halfway up her belly. He could see it on the insides of her thighs when she walked.
She smiled when she saw his eyes on her. "I used to trim it," she said. "Do you like a big bush like this?"
Standing close to him, she tickled his cock with her fingers.
"Do you like a hairy pussy, Stuart?" "It's nice."
"Nice enough to fuck?" "You know it."
"Now it's your turn to strip. Let me see all
He hurried out of his clothes. When he was naked, she fondled his ass and then his cock and balls again.
"In the bedroom," she said. "I want you on a bed."
During the next two hours they fucked up a storm. First he fucked her missionary style. He had her with her legs way up in the air and her thin hips gripped by his hands. She had an agile body. He found he could push and pull her back and forth on his cock. They both grunted as his thick prick pounded her cunt-hole.
Then at his suggestion they changed the position. He made her bend over to get it from behind. The idea excited her. She said he was a skillful lover. She knelt on the mattress to offer her cunt. When he moved behind her and saw how hairy she was, he went crazy. She had hair growing all the way up her asscrack. He found it incredibly exciting. He pushed his cock between her hairy legs and rammed inside her cunt-hole.
Now they fucked in a fury. She bucked and tossed her ass. She said it was the best fuck she'd had in ages. She said she loved his cock. She loved the way he fucked.
After he came, she sucked him to another
hard-on and told him he had to fuck her again. "Now about your ass?" he said.
She blushed. "Oh, Stuart "You might like it."
"I know I'll like it. That's the trouble."
They had a rousing assfuck. Not as good as what he had when his mother was in the mood, but Nancy's asshole turned him on. All that hair around it. Her ass had a nice firm grip, too. Tight and warm. She told him she'd had a lover once, who used to fuck her ass all the time.
"He left me for another woman," Nancy said. "Maybe she had a tighter asshole."
Stuart thought her asshole was tight enough. He decided Miss Dale had a classy shitter. His mother's was a. bit on the loose side.
I'll fuck all the teachers asses, he thought. He giggled to himself as he shot his load.
The next day in class he kept thinking about the way he had fucked her. She was at the blackboard, solving some equations, and all he could think about when he looked at her back was the shape of her ass and all that hair in her asscrack and the way her asshole grabbed at his cock. He would always think of her like that, as long
as he knew her during the time he was in school. But he didn't want to fuck her again. He had realized that in the morning. His mother had come to him in the morning and found him with a hard-on and sucked him off. It felt so good. It made him realize how much he loved his mother. He didn't want to complicate things by fucking around with another woman his mother's age. His mother didn't mind him seeing girls his own age. She even encouraged it. She said he had to live a normal life. No, he wouldn't fuck Nancy Dale again. Once was enough.
It was only natural now that he thought about the girls in his class. The very class where Miss Dale was working at the blackboard. He thought about Christie Simpson. He remembered what Nancy had said about Christie. She said Christie had her eyes on him. All right, he would find out. She's got nice tits, he thought. When Christie wore a teeshirt you could see she had fabulous tits.
When lunch-time came, he brought his tray over to Christie's table and sat down next to her.
She blushed. "Stuart?"
"You want me to move?"
"No, I'm just surprised," she said. "You never even talk to me."
"I'm talking now."
They flirted with each other. Yes, Miss Dale was right. He could tell Christie liked him. When he said he'd like to see her after school, she was obviously pleased.
"I'd like that. What have you in mind?"
"We'll see what happens."
"There's something different about you, Stuart. I don't know what it is."
"Maybe I'm some kind of alien in Stuart's body."
"Don't joke around, that stuff scares me.
He met her after school and she agreed to walk with him through a nearby park. "It's on the way to my house," she said.
"Can I go home with you?"
She looked at him and smirked. "Sure, why not. I might as well find out what you're up to."
He thought about fucking her as they walked. She would be the first girl his age since he started with his mother. He wondered what Christie would say if he knew he was fucking his mother. Somehow Christie didn't seem as innocent as the other girls. She seemed to know her way around.
As they came near the house where she lived, Christie turned to him. "My parents are not home."
Stuart smiled. "That's nice." "Do you expect to fuck me?"
"Well, answer me."
"I don't know. Yeah, I guess I thought about it."
She said nothing. She led him up the porch steps and into the house. When he closed the front door behind them, she turned to him again. "Do you have an erection?"
He rolled his eyes. "Someone may be home." "No one's home, they never come home this early."
"Okay, the answer is yes. I've got a hard-on."
"Call it whatever you want, I'm going to fuck you with it."
"Not unless I say so." "Jesus Christ!"
She continued teasing him for another ten minutes. They went down to the den and she brought in two cans of Pepsi and a box of crackers. "I don't take any crap," she said.
Stuart shrugged. "What docs that mean?" "It means that even if I like you, I'm not going to let you walk all over me. Okay?"
After that she pulled her teeshirt off and unhooked her bra. She had gorgeous tits. Big and round, the pink nipples standing out ready to be sucked. "You can touch," she said.
"Do you always do this?" "Always do what?"
"Never mind, come over here."
She came to him. She sat on his lap and he fondled her tits. She purred as he tested the weight of each one. He licked each nipple. Then he lowered his head again and this time he sucked. She made sounds of pleasure.
"That's nice, Stuart. You know how to do a girl. Most guys are so dumb."
He tried moving on to other things, but she made him stay with her tits.
"Until I tell you to stop," she said. "You can use your hands more. I like to be squeezed."
He worked on her tits another ten minutes before she stopped him and slid off his lap. She went down on the floor between his legs. She ran her fingers aver the bulge in his crotch.
"I told you it was." "Let me see."
"Go on, you do it."
She unzipped his fly and brought his cock out. She gazed at his cock-knob with hot eyes.
"They always look so juicy. Like a fruit." "So eat it."
"Maybe I don't want to." "Sure you want to."
She did want to. The next moment her pink tongue came out to lick his cockhead. She had such a sweet face. She kissed his fuck-knob. It turned him on to see that pretty mouth against his prick. Then she opened her mouth and started sucking. She worked on just his cockhead, her eyes raised to watch his face.
"Oh that's good," he said.
It was better than good, it was great. What he discovered during the next ten or fifteen minutes was that Christie Simpson gave great head. He'd had enough girls and women suck his cock to know the difference. She was almost as good as his mother. Maybe at moments a little better. Christie had a way of using her fingers at the same time as she sucked his knob. His mother liked to deep-throat him. His mother like to bring him off without using her hand. If Christie kept using her fingers like that, he knew he would come. How long could a guy hold out with that kind of sucking going on? But she stopped before he came. She pulled her mouth off his prick and smiled at him.
"I want you to lick my pussy."
Girls! he thought. You could never tell what they were like. He'd always thought this one was a shy little thing with a lock on her box. Look at her now.
He went down on her. She quickly slipped out of her panties and sat on the sofa with her knees pulled up. When he zoomed in, she draped her legs over his shoulders.
"I'm hot," she said.
He could see she was. Her cuntlips were banging open. She had a ripe-looking pussy. He could see the white fuck-juice oozing out of her cunt-hole and it turned him on. He went to that first, then he moved up to her clit and she groaned as he whipped it with his tongue.
She had a hot little teenage cunt. More of a fish-smell than his mother had. He had a time sucking her pussy. She squealed when he stuck his tongue all the way inside her cunt-hole.
"I'm coming, Stuart! Oh, boy, I'm coming!" Later they fucked in her room. First they took all their clothes off and looked at each other. He liked her body. She had beautiful tits and a luscious ass. She was blonde like his mother, but maybe a little darker. He made her bend over the bed. "Move your legs apart," he said.
"Come on, haven't you ever done it this way
"Not this way."
"I'll suck you off again."
He showed her. He pulled up a chair and sat down behind her ass. She moaned with understanding when he put his mouth on her cunt. In this position he could actually fuck her cunthole with his tongue. He did that awhile and then he moved north to the puckered rim of her assbud. Her tight little asshole. When she felt the tip of his tongue tickling her asshole, she groaned and pushed back to get more.
"You're blowing my mind," she said. "You're really blowing my mind."
After a while he rose up and drilled his cock inside her wet cunt-gash. She moaned. She squirmed her hips. She fucked her teenage pussy on his cock.
Why not both? he thought. He could have both. Teenage cunt and his mother's hot cunt. There was no need to do without either.
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tonight is a no word count, jcink premium real life roleplay set in the beautiful charleston, south carolina! established in june 2020, we pride ourselves in having a character driven yet relaxed environment that everybody can enjoy!
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for, lo, the ones are greet: but if that my trembl ing in the cat wel Abraham was fourty,
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JOUR 6 Agonie (Agony)
(For english version) You can translate this fanfic with google translate maybe ?
Il se souvient. Il s’en souvient comme si s’était hier. Pendant longtemps il avait considéré que le pire jour de sa vie fut la fois où Ul s’est sacrifié pour lui. Mais il avait vécu quelque chose d’un même niveau voire pire.
Il se souvient de ce mage de glace à la con à cause duquel il s’était battu contre elle. Invel qui s’appelait. Il leur avait fait son pouvoir du « Ice Lock » sur lui et sa mage d’eau. Ce pourvoir permet de sceller l’esprit des gens et de les utiliser comme de vulgaire marionnette. Tous les deux s’étaient donc affronter à avec comme objectif final : la mort d’un des deux mages. Rien que d’y penser il avait encore envie de lui mettre son poing dans la figure à celui-là !
A cause de lui, ils s’étaient battus l’un contre l’autre contre leur volonté. A cause de lui, elle s’était planter une épée d’eau dans le corps pour ne plus avoir à se battre contre l’homme qu’elle aime. Même s’il avait fait de même. A cause de lui, elle avait perdu beaucoup de sang et lui aussi.
A cause de lui …
A cause de lui, et de sa perte de sang abondante elle lui en avait fait don du sien pour qu’il puisse survivre. A cause de lui, s’il avait été plus rapide, c’est lui qui aurait pu lui donner son sang. A cause de lui et de sa faiblesse et de son incapacité à la protéger. A cause lui ce jour fut un jour maudit.
Une lumière plus qu’aveuglante envahit la pièce. Il plissa les yeux car le changement de luminosité était assez brutal. Une petite voix inquiète retentit dans la pièce encore sombre jusqu’à maintenant.
« Gray-sama vous ne dormez pas ? »
Il ne répondit pas. C’était un peu idiot comme question non ?
« Qu’est ce qui ne va pas Gray-sama ? Ne restez pas tout seul dans le salon avec la lumière éteinte »
Elle avait une voix qui se voulait douce et rassurante et il sentit qu’elle s’approcha de lui et s’installa à ses côtés sur le canapé.
« Non ce n’est rien » rappliqua-t-il d’une voix basse en soufflant presque ses mots.
« Ce n’est pas rien, sinon cela ne vous empêcherez pas de dormir »
Touché. En même temps c’était stupide comme réponse. Il souffla se préparant à tout avouer.
« C’est juste que je me rappelle la fois où tu as failli mourir, ça me rappelle la mort d’Ul.»
Elle laissa un blanc. Ses yeux semblaient se plongeait dans le passer. Elle posa ensuite une main chaude et rassurante sur celle plus froide du mage de glace. Elle souffla doucement :
« Ça va faire deux ans maintenant Gray-sama, c’est du passé… »
« Je sais, mais j’ai vraiment cru que tu … enfin ... »
Sa gorge se noua, il n’arriva pas à le dire. C’était trop dure pour lui, une sorte de torture à laquelle il ne voulait plus penser. Il avait cru mourir ce jour-là, en même temps qu’elle mais son désir de vengeance envers Invel l’avait maintenu en vie. Il serra les dents et recroquevilla ses doigts en enfonçant presque ses ongles dans sa paume froide comme pour se punir.
En voyant que cela l’affectait encore beaucoup, la bleutée décida de prendre le ténébreux dans ses bras. Il se laissa faire et profita simplement de la douce chaleur que lui procurer la jeune femme.
« Vous savez, Juvia comprend ça lui arrive souvent de faire encore des cauchemars à propos de votre « mort ». »
Elle desserra l’étreinte et elle finit par le regarder dans ses yeux gris sombre. Il avait l’air assez surpris de sa révélation.
Alors, elle aussi… elle y pensait encore ?
« Mais c’est toi qui t’es sacrifier pour moi ! Je n’ai même pas réussi à te protéger, je … »
« Juvia ne parle pas de cette « mort » là »
Le brun s’arrêta net dans sa phrase et haussa les sourcils un peu surpris que Juvia lui ai coupé la parole.
Pas de cette « mort » là, mais de quoi parlait-elle alors ?
« La fois ou les dragonoïdes ont visé Juvia et que vous l’avez poussé pour vous les prendre à sa place... »
Elle ne pourrait jamais l’oublier. Elle avait juste entendu Lyon hurler son prénom et à ce moment elle avait senti qu’on la poussait sur le sol dur et sombre de ce champ de bataille. Et là, l’horreur c’est dérouler sous yeux, elle avait vu son cher Gray transpercé de toute part par des rayons laser. Ses yeux bleu océan s’était écarquillaient à cette vue macabre. Et puis un dernier rayon traversa le front de ce dernier sans le moindre scrupule.
A ce moment le cœur de Juvia avait été brisé, quelque chose en elle la torturait au plus haut point comme si tout venait de s’arrêter comme si le pire qu’elle puisse imaginer venait de se produire, comme si elle ne voulait pas réaliser totalement ce qu’elle venait de voir. Elle hurla à plein poumon de toute ses forces, comme si cet acte aller réveiller ce qui n’était plus que le cadavre de la personne qu’elle aime. Mais rien n’y fit, le corps sans vie de Gray gisait au sol sans qu’elle n’arrive à se persuader que tout ça était réel.
Il devait avouer qu’il avait oublié ce moment où il s’était sacrifié sans hésiter pour elle. Il pensait toujours qu’il avait bien fait et que si c’était à refaire, il le referait. Il avait agi comme par reflexe, sans doute qu’il tenait à elle bien plus qu’il ne voulait l’avouer…
« Vous aussi Gray-sama vous vous êtes sacrifié pour Juvia. Combien de fois avez-vous sauver la vie de Juvia. Rien qu’au moment de notre première rencontre vous l’avez sauvé d’une chute mortelle alors que nous étions ennemis.»
Sa voix tremblait légèrement et était un peu autoritaire. Elle serrait de sa main droite nacré le pantalon de son pyjama à cause de la frustration qu’elle ressentait envers elle-même. Les sourcils de la jeune femme se baissèrent en se rappelant ça. Combien de fois avait-t-elle revu ces cauchemars ? Combien de fois ?
Il se sentait mal alaise, il ne savait pas vraiment comment répondre face à une telle déclaration. Mais avec ce qu’elle venait de dire il se rendit compte à quel point il s’aimait l’un l’autre. Et il savait qu’elle n’hésiterait pas à se sacrifier pour lui de nouveau, comme lui le ferai.
« C’est vrai, mais le pire c’est que je sais que ça peut se reproduire, c’est ça qui m’inquiète »
Il arrivait enfin dans le cœur du problème. La chose qui le terrifié à chaque fois, la raison pour laquelle il avait rejeter Juvia tant de fois : il avait peur de la voir mourir, de voir mourir les gens qu’il aime et de les voir se sacrifié pour lui. Il en avait une boule en ventre rien qu’en y pensant.
« Juvia vous doit tellement Gray-sama, sa vie vous appartient, elle vous l’a déjà dit, pour elle donner sa vie pour vous est un honneur ! »
Elle était souriante en disant ça. Comme si cette phrase était censée le réconforter. Avait-elle compris que cela serait un cauchemar pour lui de revivre ça ? Avait-t-elle compris qu’il été prêt à tout abandonner même un avenir heureux avec elle juste pour que cela ne se reproduise plus ?
« Tu ne comprends rien »
Il l’entoura de ses bras musclés en la serrant fort contre lui, comme pour l’empêcher de partir. Il approcha son visage de l’oreille de la bleutée qui rougit presque instantanément en sentant son souffle froid sur le haut de sa nuque et murmura d’une voix grave et sérieuse :
« Pour moi te voir partir serait pire que la mort, ça serait une agonie. »
A change of tac for this bet for no other reason than a bit of variety. This does not mean however that no research has been done, I have looked at the form mainly for Manchester City in their away game Half time/Full time results focusing mainly on the number of times they have been leading at half time. Of the 15 away games played this season Manchester City have been leading at half time 8…
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I have discussed I am def attracted to tol guys who are awkward but also kind even rn ough they're troubled souls
that explains a lot.
I newly discovered this by discovering Terra, my boi, is 6ft 2