#his home would likewise be cold and uncomfortable

[evansbby]

Oh I think you don’t like Andy bc he offers stability and comfort. Steady job, house, normal family and you don’t want that

Normal family?!?? Andy?!?! I beg to differ hahaha. Unless you call raising a murderer normal!

But of course all i want is stability and comfort! I just want that with ARI 🥲🥲🥲

[retiredteabag]

winter weight (nanami ver)

Synopsis: nanami has gained some weight this winter, it seems you don't mind.

based on this fanfic I wrote for Toji which was based on this fanart! thank you @lil-sis for requesting more nanami :,)

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had known Nanami Kento for years before you were romantically involved. He had never made an inappropriate comment, always treated you with the utmost respect, and was all-around, the truest form of a gentleman.

For a time, you locked away your feelings for the kind man, sure he could never see you in that way, but little did you know, the man in question hid from your gaze, not because he did not want to see you, but in fear that you would see him. See him for what he was: a man, obsessed.

You had been with Ken for nine months now and he was everything you could want and more. He was communicative, thoughtful, and romantic. He looked at you in a way nobody had before. Likewise, for you, those nine months passed with comfortable ease.

This was your first winter together, and with the changing of the seasons you learned day by day that the man you knew was your life partner. The both of you were homebodies in a sense, however, with the chilly air and light snowfall this week, you were even more keen on a night in together.

You raced around the house, lighting candles, simmering mulling spices on the stove, and laying out blankets for the two of you. The house felt even cozier knowing that Ken was coming to join you.

He had spent the afternoon with his parents and was coming over after having dinner, he told you to eat without him and you had just finished cleaning your plate when you received a text,

"I am on my way now, sweetheart, is there anything you would like from the store?"

Ken was like this, domestic in the way that made you want to bounce around the room. You thought for a moment before deciding you would probably need more eggs. Earlier this week the two of you had planned a movie night, the next morning you were both hoping to bake cookies together while playing board games or taking turns reading to one another.

You informed him of the need for eggs and he told you he would be just a few more minutes. During that time you scrolled through the choices of movies, picking a few for the two of you to choose from.

Despite being together longer than the gestational period for a baby human, you still received butterflies in your stomach at the thought of his arrival. Knowing he was nearly home, you bounded to the kitchen and faced the door, the room smelled delicious, the only thing missing was his presence, and perhaps another layer of clothing.

Even so, you could hear his footsteps approach and knew that the two of you would share a blanket and body heat in no time.

When the man finally opened the door he was smiling shyly, a red dusting across his face from the cold. He wore a long winter coat, and in his arms were a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift.

You rushed to greet him, taking the day bag from his arm,

"Oh! Ken, they're beautiful!" You stood on tiptoe as he bent his knee and you kissed his cold cheek. "Goodness, you're freezing! Come in please!"

"Hello, my love." He smiled more broadly now, wrapping his free arm around you, "This if from my parents, but they told me not to let you open it until the holidays."

A warmth ran through you, the Nanami's were all too kind. Kento set the flowers on the counter and stepped toward the coat rack by the door to retire his shoes and jacket.

In the motion it took for him to pull the sleeves off his broad shoulders, you took him in. Leaning on the kitchen counter you allowed yourself to stare at him. His dress shirt was tight on his arms, and his suit pants clung to his thighs. You took a step toward him again.

"I almost don't want you to change, you look so handsome in your work clothes."

"Well, I've certainly put on some weight. These pants hardly fit now." he looks increasingly uncomfortable, not to be in your presence but to show that he was dressed in such a tailored fashion.

"Ken, my dear, you look incredible." You contain the desire to squeeze his thigh by walking to the bedroom and bringing out a pair of sweats and a cotton shirt.

"Although you are a delight to see this way, I'll let you get comfortable." You smile and pinch his bicep.

"Thank you, dear, I don't believe I've ever been so heavy. It's all the good restaurants you introduce me to, perhaps I should get back into the gym." He had grabbed the soft clothes you picked for him and walked into the bedroom to change.

"You're the one bringing me to all those good restaurants so you can't just blame me." You smile from outside the door.

"I'm just grateful you're with me" He laughs, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Ugh!" You exclaim, "Of course, Ken, don't say something so ridiculous." He laughs but you are still caught on what he said earlier. "And don't start going to the gym, you look great, very chewable."

He pops out from behind the door and looks down at you, amused. "I'm not sure how to feel about that descriptor, but if you still like me with extra weight, then I suppose I can remain comfortable."

"Still like you?" You gasp offended, "Ken, I grow more attracted to you every day, I don't care how tight your clothes are, in fact, it's a good look."

He gives you a mischievous face, "Go sit on the couch, pick a movie, stop trying to seduce me."

You laugh, incredulous, "I'm not trying anything, I'm only speaking the truth." You shrug, bounding to the couch and crawling beneath the blanket. Ken brings two mugs of cider before joining you.

That night you lay on his chest, watching a cheesy romance, the both of you laughing at the silly main character. You tilt your head up, to watch his face, your eyes catching the beginning of a few grey hairs dispersed in his blonde hair. You gently run your hand through his undercut.

In that moment, in his arms, as comfortable as you've ever been, you are sure, he is the man you will grow old with.

[lay-z]

🎀 Day 16 – Driving home for Christmas

A continuation of 🍷 Day 8 – Dinner time, which means it’s set in the same universe!

Synopsis: When Christmas comes around again, it’s Kyle this time around who asks his Captain if he can come over for dinner.

Pairing: husband!John Price x wife!Reader x Kyle Gaz Garrick Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | Kyle's POV; curvy!pregnant!Reader (some physical descriptions); dom!Price; hurt/comfort; breeding kink; pregnant sex/pregnancy kink; objectification; threesome; unprotected sex; choking; fluff/aftercare

Word count: 3.2k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

Kyle feels like he’s having a very vivid déjà-vu. 

When he raises his fist and knocks on the heavy cedar wood door, flashbacks of last year’s Christmas Eve are triggered and playing in front of his inner eye as he glances up at the Christmas lights and decorations adorning Price's large house.  

Flashbacks and memories that leave his face burning despite the biting cold nipping at his skin and, admittedly, his cock stirring hotly in his chic beige pants. 

He hasn’t seen you since the summer, roughly five months ago, when Price had invited the team and Laswell for a barbecue in his backyard. The moment you'd stolen him away for a quick make out session in the laundry room after the Captain, standing by the grill, had given his blessing with a curt nod, was the last time someone else had touched him intimately.  

And now, Kyle still catches himself having a desperate wank to the phantom feeling of your delicate hand wrapped around his throbbing prick and your wonderful lips against  his sensitive neck, whispering sweet praises into his ear like you did way back in the laundry room in your perfect house all while your husband (and his boss) knew what was happening. And every time, Kyle spills his load all over his own calloused knuckles with a pathetic whine, wishing they were yours instead.

Oh, bloody fucking hell, he’s such a goner for you. 

His jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth, swallowing thickly; dark eyes zeroed in on the front door while his other fist tightens around the expensive bottle of red wine he brought for you. 

Kyle checks the time on his Rolex. 17:56 p.m., punctual as always. 

He tugs on his winter coat before adjusting the front of his pants once more; uncomfortable to stand in front of the threshold of another man’s house, obviously bricked up for said man’s wife before he even gets the chance to say his greetings. 

When the door opens eventually, Kyle’s heart is already thudding harshly against his ribcage with a mixture of anticipation and excitement, though it stutters briefly when he is greeted by Captain Price’s mug instead of yours. 

“Garrick,” the older man greets curtly, steel blue eyes flickering to glance past the Sergeant briefly.

And Kyle knows that look too well, knows his Captain is being extra vigilant for some reason, sweeping the perimeter, even though it’s his own estate and if someone else were to be around, his security system would surely pick up on it. Still, due to their jobs and shared experiences, both men know to never get too comfortable.

Eventually, Price opens the front door wider and steps aside in a non-verbal invitation, “Good to see you, Sergeant.” 

“Thank you, sir. Likewise,” Kyle replies, straightening his shoulders as he walks into the entry hallway past his Captain, who immediately closes and locks the front door behind them once more. 

The house smells heavenly, like freshly baked cookies, spices and some kind of roasted meat, mixed with the natural smells of your home. It's a concoction of scents that nearly leaves Kyle feeling both nostalgic and yearning. 

“Bird’s in the living room, lad,” Price says with his usual gruffness yet underlying care as Kyle hangs up his coat on the vintage rack. “I know she’s been looking forward to seeing you again.” 

And Kyle has been looking forward to see you, too. More than he’s comfortable to admit. 

“Here,” Kyle says, offering the bottle of red wine for the other man to take with his chest puffed out proudly, because he remembered that like a good, obedient soldier would. “You told me she prefers red.”  

He watches in confusion as his Captain’s eyes crinkle in the corners, crow’s feet appearing as he looks at the bottle in the Sergeant's hands in what can only be described as amusement before accepting it eventually with a gruff chuckle and a firm clap on the younger man's shoulder. 

“Aye, lad, that’s very thoughtful of ya.” 

Kyle does find you in the living room, wearing a tight black knitted dress, curled up in the loveseat in the corner next to the old bookshelf that looks quite Cold War-esque and the large, classically decorated Christmas tree, with a pale blue hardcover book in your lap and a steaming cuppa on the small side table next to the sofa. 

Even without the fairy lights illuminating you from behind, you look radiant, like you’re glowing from the inside out, and something in his heart aches, deep behind his chest – something dangerous and exhilarating that takes his breath away momentarily. 

Once you notice the familiar, young man standing frozen in place in the open doorway to the living room, your eyes light up, a breath-taking smile spreading on your lips. “Hello, soldier,” you chirp and bookmark the page you’re on before closing the book.  

“Hello, princess.” He replies softly, cheeks heating up even more at the sound of your voice greeting him so happily.

And while Kyle tries and fails to catch the cover and title of the book as you put it aside, he does notice the way you untuck your tight-clad legs from under yourself with a soft groan before heaving yourself up and out of the loveseat with a sudden struggle which he doesn’t quite understand. 

His brows furrow in concern, attentive eyes scanning your body as you adjust your dress around your shoulders. “How have you been?” He asks, taking a few measured steps towards you. 

“Oh,” you giggle softly, eyes twinkling with mirth and that familiar gentleness as you watch Kyle approach, “I’ve been… well.” 

Then, you make a tiny gesture that makes everything click into place for the Sergeant at once. You caress the top of your belly lovingly while supporting it with the other, and suddenly, Kyle notices the prominent bump that was initially concealed by the black fabric of your dress and the veil of his metaphorical rose-coloured glasses. 

His heart nearly stops in his chest, auburn eyes widening comically and he stops dead in his tracks while something strange starts happening in his brain, like its most primal and savage parts are being stimulated for the first time in his life.

“Congratulations,” Kyle manages to say, cracking a smile, though his voice is too rough, too breathless for his own liking. “You look lovely, sweetheart.” Breathtakingly beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. He could go on, but chooses not to.

You’re pregnant. Pregnant. Very, very pregnant, and fertile.  

And it is all Kyle can focus on for the rest of the evening. He’s embarrassingly hard during dinner, while he watches his rough and tough, stoic Captain dote on you like the loving husband he is. Everything makes so much sense now, too; why Price had taken more leave in the past couple of months than he ever has in his whole bloody career, giving up more responsibilities to Ghost, his second-in-command, and being even more secretive and guarded about his personal life. 

The longer he stays and is forced to watch the happy couple, the more envious he becomes.

It’s a mean feeling that takes root in his heart, poisoning it slowly like the black plague; squeezing and mocking all while he can simply blame himself, because he was the one who’d asked to come over this time.

He wasn’t invited which makes him he’s an intruder, and it’s starting to show in the way Price keeps whispering sweet nothing’s into your ear while he sits next to you on the loveseat in the living room, after moving back there once dinner was finished and the table was cleared. Now, Kyle can only watch how his Captain coddles his gorgeous wife; kissing your temple and rubbing his big hand over the swell of your pregnant belly possessively, as if his Sergeant isn’t currently sitting in the armchair right across from you.

Kyle realizes begrudgingly and with a stabbing ache in his heart that the times, when his Captain would let him have a small taste of heaven, of you, are over. It’s too sudden, too soul-crushing, like a band aid ripped away too swiftly and taking bits of hair and scabs with it, though it should have been foreseeable from the beginning.

It wasn’t supposed to last, anyway.

His heart clenches painfully as he makes the rash decision to simply slip away, leave you two be while he will go on his merry way to drown his sorrows and loneliness in some cheap liquor. And when Kyle catches the sound of your soft giggles once more, elicited by Price who nuzzles into your neck affectionately in a way that has Kyle’s cock chuffing even worse, his legs start developing a mind of their own and he stands up from his seat at once.

Of course, it only catches their attention and an awkward silence ensues. 

The Sergeant clears his dry throat, shifting on his feet uncharacteristically insecure. “I should head out,” he announces, glancing down at his expensive watch. It’s barely past 8 p.m. “–while I can still drive.” He adds with a forced chuckle. Kyle made the conscious decision not to drink as much as last year in case you–No, no he really shouldn’t go there. 

However, before Kyle can say his thanks and bid his goodbyes, you and Price share a look that the younger man has seen before, and then the Captain gets out of the loveseat with an old-manly grunt.  

“Nonsense, Garrick,” he objects gruffly, making a dismissive hand gesture as he walks past Kyle over to his vintage liquor cabinet. “We’re having another drink.” 

Then, there is the distinct sound of clinking glasses, the unscrewing of a bottle and the gluck gluck gluck of liquid as said glasses are filled while Kyle furrows his brows, glancing over his shoulder at his Captain’s broad back before his eyes shift back over to you, sitting oh so prettily as you blink up at him with your beautifully bright doe-eyes and another tooth-achingly sweet smile before you shift and go on to push yourself up from your seat. 

And right when Kyle wants to rush to your aid, Price stops him by clasping a hand over his broad shoulder, offering a glass full of strong, amber liquor as he leans in to murmur into Kyle’s ear in a way that makes his skin pebble with goose bumps: “Isn’t she gorgeous, lad?”

Yes, yes, you’re gorgeous. Bloody perfect.

Especially now, sprawled out on your marital bed in the master bedroom while Kyle watches you get eaten out by your husband as if the latter is feasting on his last meal.

Your radiant body arches and stretches on the mattress; all soft lines and feminine curves while your round baby bump keeps drawing his gaze in like the most beautiful sight Kyle has ever been allowed to see. Your breasts are larger; your nipples and areolas a shade darker in contrasts to your glowing skin, and he can’t wait to trail his fingertips along the faint stretch marks along your hips and up your belly. It’s mesmerising. You are mesmerising, absolutely breath-taking.

The whole situation feels much more intimate than the first time last year, too, when the Captain had talked you into fucking the stress and sadness out of his Sergeant’s system, and then the stolen moments of sweet passion that had followed in between whenever he was lucky enough to see you. Always just you and Kyle while Price had given his blessings upfront. Now, though, now the latter is actively participating, and Kyle is trying to figure out his role in this. Less an intruder, but still not wholly part of it all, he figures.

The cries of pleasure which your husband is eliciting from you, eventually pull Kyle out of his stupor and he watches as you shudder and tremble with another intense climax before you mewl and paw at Price’s shoulders with panting breaths, trying to either nudge him away or get him even closer, and the latter pushes himself up on his elbows before sitting back on his haunches, still fully clothed while Kyle was ordered to strip down to his underwear.

“Please–” You whimper and hiccup breathlessly in a way that makes Kyle wince when his cock throbs and twitches painfully in his boxer briefs.

Price chuckles as he licks your arousal from his lips before bringing his hand up to wipe at his mouth. “Use your words, m’love. We’ve already been through this so many times, no?”

You nod eagerly as you swallow thickly, and Kyle can see the gloss of tears in your eyes. He wants to kiss them away, needs to keep overstimulating you all the same to coax more of those saccharine sounds from you, determined to make more memories he can feed on to get him through another year, most likely longer (perhaps forever), of withdrawal from you.

“Garrick,” Price barks and makes a sharp gesture with his hand before scooting away from between your legs, creating more space. “You’re going to fuck my pregnant wife now.”

Kyle’s stomach drops into an open pit for a split second, though the clear order given by his superior does make his heart rate exhilarate and his cock leak even worse in his underwear. His eyes flicker nervously between Price and you, until you reach your hand out to him with half-lidded eyes, a sweet smile and small nod.

And it’s all the encouragement Kyle needs, before he answers with a curt, determined: “Yes, sir.”

However, when Kyle reaches for the condom he’d placed on the nightstand buoyantly, Price clicks his tongue in disdain. “No need for that, lad,” he assures him, “not this time.”

Then, you chime in so sweetly, telling him that it’s okay, that you want to feel him without any barrier, and Kyle’s brain blanks as he positions himself on his knees between your legs; caressing and groping your supple thighs, a full-body shudder wrecking through him at the first touch of your skin after months of being deprived of it.

He grasps his cock at the base, drags his weeping cockhead through your pretty, glistening folds, coating his length in your syrupy slick while gripping your hip with his other hand before guiding his thick tip to your entrance and pushing in slowly, feeling your velvety walls clench and squeeze around him while he sinks his cock deeper, and then, all the air rushes from his lungs with a drawn-out, breathless groan as Kyle finally comes home again.

“That’s it.” Price’s voice coos gruffly, and Kyle can feel the mattress shift behind him before warm, calloused palms trail along his toned sides and settling on his waist with a tight hold, and his dark eyes widen in surprise as he stares down at you, gorgeously spread open and taking his cock like you were made for him, too.

This definitely never happened before, Price joining in like this, but when you continue to mewl for more while nudging the heel of your bare foot into Kyle’s backside urgently, he’s too far gone to think properly; all reason and restraint melting away like candle wax, leaving nothing but pleasure rather than the pain he’d endured for the past year.

“She feels incredible, doesn’t she, Sergeant?”

It’s a rhetorical question, because Kyle is already gritting his teeth, muscles coiling, trying not to cum already as he bottoms out inside your gummy channel. You do feel different. Hotter, slicker, sweeter, utterly intoxicating, and Kyle doesn’t know if it’s the fact he’s not wearing protection or if it’s your pregnancy making your pussy even more addictive.

He nods anyway, holding eye-contact with you. “Yes, s-sir. Fuck–!”

And then, Price pushes Kyle’s hips forward at once, thrusting the younger man’s cock deeper into your fluttering cunt, making you and the Sergeant moan and yelp obscenely in unison while your plump tits jiggle tantalisingly. “Then fuck her properly, Sergeant. She needs it… and so do you.” He growls into Kyle’s ear; rough beard scratching over heated, sensitive skin.

Price tells Kyle to fuck you, but it’s obviously the Captain who’s setting the pace here; guiding and pushing his Sergeant’s hips as the latter fucks you desperately yet carefully while his own clothed and throbbing cock ruts against the younger man’s bare, plump ass.

Kyle can barely hold himself together after months of loneliness and touch-starvation, and the absolute overwhelming feeling of being buried inside you now, hearing you moan and cry out his name while the full weight of his Captain’s powerful body is pressed flush against him; he’s heating up, front to back, sweat trickling down his neck as one of Price’s mammoth hands snakes up his chest, squeezing his pec harshly before curling around Kyle’s throat, putting pressure on his Adam’s apple. 

“Oh, fuck, – Cap–” Kyle gasps and pants, and his head lolls back against Price’s broad shoulder, short-circuiting with new sensations while his dark lashes flutter; hips still grinding deeply and fast-paced into your dripping cunt until your gummy walls convulse and squeeze him rhythmically as your climax seizes you, making you cry out in ecstasy in a way Kyle hasn’t witnessed before while his own pleasure boils over, and he grips you feverishly with both hands, long fingers digging into the fat of your thighs while Price’s hot breath ghosts over his sweat-slicked skin.

“That’s it, Gaz,” he murmurs, squeezing Kyle’s throat tighter and cutting off more of his airflow, “–fill her up, lad. Breed her good.” 

And Kyle does as he’s ordered; eyes rolling back into his skull, crying out despite the pressure around his neck as his cock pulses and shoots several thick ropes of cum into your eager cunt; vision blurring as he comes harder than he has in what feels like forever.

Much to his surprise, once his mind has come off its post-orgasmic high, the aftermath isn’t as strange as Kyle anticipated as soon as Price had gotten involved.

His eyes are closed, his cheek resting above your naked chest, mindful to not put any unnecessary pressure on your sore breasts, while he listens to your steady heartbeat, his warm palm resting on your baby bump, stroking his thumb over your skin absentmindedly.

“Did it kick yet?” Kyle asks curiously, his voice slurred with exhaustion. “The uh… baby, I mean.”

“Yes,” you answer, laughing softly as you continue to scratch your fingernails along the curve of Kyle’s shoulder blades, feeling his skin pebble with gooseflesh. “I think he’s sleeping now after all the commotion,” you giggle, “– just like his daddy.”

As if on cue, Price’s snore cuts through the tranquillity, curled around you on your other side protectively. Kyle snorts softly before letting out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He's always dreamed of having a boy.

[desmon1995]

Female Warriors, Broadway, and the American Dream.

The Warriors have been out for about 2 weeks now and it's slowly but steadily building up a pretty passionate following.

I think one of the biggest changes that have been rough for some long time over years 79 fans is that the Warriors are now female, which some argue ruins the point of the original and or softens the story too much.

While I do respect everybody's opinion when it comes to artistic criticism, I do think that dismissing the concept album just because it features women is a little short-sighted IMHO.

Regurgitating the original male cast just in musical album form would not only be repetitive but would make it no different than other Broadway show that focus on gang violence like West Side story or now The Outsiders.

We have so many shows that focus on brotherhood, kinship, and just masculinity not even within film but also on Broadway, but we hardly ever see the same for female characters.

The Female Warriors are very rough around the edges, foul-mouthed, violent at times, and in the case of cowgirl, lustful.

They're also different body types, present themselves differently, and are all played by BIPOC.

I've seen a lot of Broadway shows in my 30 years of living, and we just don't get diverse female characters like this a lot if at all.

If any female character had the above traits they would likely be presented as being the less than ideal woman or flat out villainous.

The girls have flaws, but these are just things they picked up because of how rough the world has been to them, and at the end of the day they're not only friends but a family.

That's a big difference between the female warriors and their male counterparts from the movie and novel.

The Male Warriors are supposed to be seen as what ends up happening when youths get tangled up in gang culture and how it turns them into monsters.

When the police arrest Ajax in the film it's because of how unruly and savage he was acting and likewise Fox getting killed along with Cleon is supposed to be seen as a consequence of them even being a part of this culture to begin with.

I've said it before, but I think while the intentions may be good it's viewing these marginalized groups through a very White and conservative lens.

Nobody wants to be a part of a gang or run away from home but sometimes living in poverty, an abusive household, or just being crushed by the system forces people to do desperate things and more often than not that's banding together with like-minded people.

Another thing is that most of the Warriors in the original film are White and that's largely just due to the fact that an audience back in the 1970s would be less willing to watch something that didn't at least feature several white main leads otherwise they'd be uncomfortable and uninterested.

From a modern-day perspective, a person like male Ajax would likely get away with his sexually aggressive behavior because of the color of the skin ( you can look at a certain orange politician to see that in present day) and we now know thanks to things like BLM that the police do not always operate in good faith nor to protect the people.

I think that's why the concept album is so good and culturally relevant despite having being created nearly a few years ago.

The Warriors consisting of a group of marginalized women that banded together to support one another to conduct a world that really doesn't care for them is a story you really get to hear not just on Broadway but in Hollywood in general.

Luther being a white gang leader and killing a black cultural figure like Cyrus in cold blood to stop any semblance of progress is the tale as all this time and how he mocks the AAVE the non-white groups he surrounds himself with after making life hell for them is especially painful.

Luther and Crosby literally don't have to worry about ever being hounded by the police because of how they look which allows them to get away with literal murder, but it is very telling that he ends up crumbling the moment he's confronted and called out for his misdeeds.

The cops themselves are also completely reworked for the concept album as opposed to them just being the boys in blue doing their job to get rid of the trash that is the Warriors like the original film, they're essentially the biggest antagonist even more so than the Rogues.

Both police officers that appear in the album have a cat calling motif which doubles as sounding like police sirens just to illustrate how dangerous and cancerous they are not just to the Warriors but to the community as a whole.

Captain Victor and Barnes abuse their power and end up nearly subduing the Warriors by killing Fox and sexually a harassing and later arresting Ajax.

In Derailed Victor even tries to kill the warriors with his squadron before they run away to the cemetery and all of this is done because they can.

The fact that these two are portrayed by people from the 1979 Warriors film sort of acts as a double entender because in the original, the Warriors themselves are supposed to be seen as monsters and what happens when kids fall too deep into the sins of the world, so the cops view the women as nothing more than street rats who need to be exterminated .

The Warriors are guilty because they're marginalized women and that's enough for them to be blown away as far as society and the system is concerned.

I think in some ways, the Warriors is basically the reverse of LMM's other work Hamilton because it shows that the American dream isn't really for everybody and that sometimes you have to find another means to live by.

The system very much failed the Warriors so they had to rely on themselves to make it through the world because nobody else would bother with them.

It's for this reason why I'm sort of against the idea that this album needs to be radically changed in order for it to move the Broadway.

Doing things like giving Luther more complex feelings, adding in things to help the predominantly white audience and critics understand how Urban culture works, and rewriting the characters themselves just to be more stage appropriate seems like it undoes what the musical was trying to say.

I think this story as it is is one worth telling and beyond maybe a bit of polish I don't really think it should be tempered with too much.

If Lin and Eisa were to doll the Warriors up too much it would basically be a completely different story altogether and what we would have is just another Broadway musical that allows the audience to digest certain things that they may not understand nor possibly want to hear.

I think we as a society have moved beyond watering down things so that people who aren't even from the community that these stories come from can sleep better at night.

I think that's why this album and the original movie have dedicated fan bases to them because it does speak to a generation of people.

[onceuponastory]

homeward bound - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Y/N and Bucky have finally managed to get some time off together, and Bucky has the perfect idea - to bring her back to Brooklyn and show her all his favourite places when he was growing up. Pairing: Pilot!Bucky Barnes x FlightAttendant!Female!Reader Warnings: A few mentions of anxiety, and a small mention of nausea. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: Did anyone miss Pilot!Bucky? I sure did, so decided he should come back. If you haven’t read the other parts in this AU, here’s one, two and three. Obligatory I am not a pilot or flight attendant, although I do watch a lot of Air Crash Investigation. Also, well done if you recognise the significance of the numbers in Bucky’s callsign ;) Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“This food is amazing. Thanks for bringing me here, Buck.” Y/N moans happily, leaning back in her seat. Bucky watches her, grinning. 

“I told you. New York pizza is the best.” 

As they tuck into another slice, Y/N once again feels incredibly grateful that she and Bucky finally have some time to spend together. With both of them working in the jobs they do, finding time off is hard enough, let alone together. Thankfully, their schedules have finally lined up, and they have an entire week off together. Ideally, Y/N would want more time with him, but she’s not about to complain about finally getting to spend some downtime with her gorgeous pilot boyfriend. And this time, Bucky brought her to Brooklyn so she could meet his mother. At first, Y/N was nervous and kept fidgeting with her hair and her outfit. Everything that didn’t seem perfect enough was under scrutiny. Bucky means a lot to her, and she knows just how close he is to his mother, so she knew she had to make a good impression.

“Love, it’s okay.” Bucky smiled, squeezing her hand. “You look gorgeous. She’s going to love you just as much as I do.” His words and the kiss he pressed to her cheek eased her worries for a few precious moments, as did her assertion that Bucky wouldn’t bring her to meet his mother if he wasn’t sure about this relationship, or about her. Yet as the front door opened, the nerves hit Y/N once more, like a bucket of cold water being thrown over her.

“Hey Ma.” Bucky grinned, pulling her into a hug. But before Y/N could even say more than a hello, Winifred Barnes turned to her, grinning. Immediately, she greeted her with a hug, and an insistence to:

“Just call me Winnie, sweetheart.” She smelled like fresh baking and lavender, a comforting, homely scent. And right away, Y/N felt her anxiety start to fade away.

“It’s wonderful to meet you Winif-Winnie.” Y/N stammered, slightly crushed in her hug. But the hug wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with love and happiness, which Bucky must’ve had every day when he was growing up. It must’ve been a life of warmth, love, and laughter. Of fresh baking on the table every day, and fresh flowers throughout the house. Of a mother who loves you and your friends like her own.

No wonder he’s such a wonderful person.

“Likewise, sweetheart. Now, let me get a good look at you.” A pair of blue eyes that perfectly match Bucky’s blue hues, stared back at her. “James.” She tutted, her tone causing Bucky’s eyes to widen. “You never told me she was so beautiful!” Y/N gasped, her brow raised.

“You never told me your name was James.” She chuckled as Bucky’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“Oh, there’s a lot you don’t know about him, hun.” Winnie took her arm, leading her gently towards the house. “But we have all week to talk about it.” 

“Ma!” Bucky called, but they were both too busy laughing to pay any attention.

Since then, Bucky’s taken her on a whistle-stop tour of all the places he frequented as he was growing up in Brooklyn. The park he used to play in as a kid, his high school, the late night coffee shops he frequented as he was studying for his pilots exams, and the restaurant they’re in now… everything important to Bucky’s life is now part of hers too. She’s a part of his life now.

And that means the world to her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, however, Bucky promises to take her to the most special place of all. The entire drive there, he refuses to even give her a hint about where he was taking her. At first, she thought he was taking her to Coney Island, given how much he spoke about going there as a kid and riding the rollercoaster so much with his friends that he felt nauseous. Although, for a moment she wondered why that would be his choice above the other things Bucky showed her, but she definitely wasn’t going to judge him for that. Especially considering how she herself always tries to go to a Disney Park whenever they’re near one on their travels. 

She watches Bucky driving through the streets he grew up on, pointing out places and people. Once more, the familiar feeling of love settles in her stomach. He’s accompanied her on the last few Disney trips she’s been on now, and despite how they’ve been dating for almost two years by this point, she still can’t believe just how lucky she is to be dating him. Especially considering the time it took them to admit their feelings to each other. But now, they get to do the big things like taking trips together (including ones outside of work), and looking for places to live together. And there’s the little things too, like buying groceries together, waking up next to him, or getting a text from him every morning and every night, without fail, even if they’re on opposite ends of the world from each other.

And honestly, doing the little things she does with Bucky is her favourite thing in the world.

“So… is it an art gallery or something?” She asks as he drives past the turnoff for Coney Island.

“Nope. Not even close.” Bucky chuckles. Soon, Y/N notices he’s taking her out of the city, and she raises a brow. 

“Where the hell are we going?”

Yet, Bucky still doesn’t say anything.

“Come on, you’re not gonna give me one hint?” She pleads, even considering batting her eyelashes and pouting in the hopes it works on him. After all… it has before.

“No. I told you, it’s a surprise. And besides, we’re almost there.”

Soon, Bucky turns off the main road and down a smaller, narrower one. Once they reach the end of the road, he parks the car beside a large building. Well, somewhere that looks more like a warehouse than a building. 

“It’s an airfield.” Y/N murmurs, reading off the sign.

“The same one I trained at all those years ago before I joined the big leagues. I thought….” Bucky trails off, the excitement clear on his face. “I could take you flying!” Y/N chuckles.

“Bucky, you take me flying almost every day. It’s kinda part of our job, remember?” Yet, a small part of her almost hoped his surprise wouldn’t be related to flying, and would be something else that Bucky loves. Maybe she’d even learn something new about him. But she’s not disappointed by the surprise. Flying is a big part of Bucky’s life, of both of their lives. Of course he’d take her here, to the place where it all began. And besides, if he hadn’t learnt to fly, she would never have met him, or be here now, sharing stories about his life growing up and feeling closer to him.

“Not like that.” He smirks. “I mean, like this.” Once they’re out of the car, he leads her round the corner, gesturing to a small Cessna parked on the tarmac. Well, it’s not that small, but it is compared to the jumbo jets Bucky flies normally. She’s never been in such a small plane before, yet the fact Bucky is going to be at the controls is making her feel a lot calmer about it. “You like it?” She nods. “Well, it’s ours for the afternoon.” After completing the pre-flight checks, he opens the door for her, helping her inside and making sure she’s buckled in correctly before doing the same. 

“B45107.” He says over the headset. “Ready for taxi.” As she watches him at work, doing what he knows best, Y/N can’t stop smiling. Even though she’s dating the best pilot at the airline, Y/N rarely gets the chance to see him working up close, doing everything it takes to get people into the air and back onto the ground safely. She loves this, getting to see him work, seeing his professional side. 

Bucky lines up at the end of the runway, ready to begin takeoff. Immediately, Y/N grins, feeling the familiar excitement in her stomach once more. As the plane hurtles down the runway, the speed pushing them back into their seats, Y/N has never felt so alive, so exhilarated than she does in that moment. Once they’re in the air, she gazes out over the horizon. The sky is so clear and blue that she can see for miles. 

“Is that the Statue of Liberty?” She asks, pointing at a small dot in the horizon.

“Yup. And you’ll see the Brooklyn Bridge soon.” Bucky smiles, watching her look out of the window, as excited as a kid in a candy shop.

“It’s beautiful up here.” 

“I’ve seen more beautiful things.” Bucky shrugs. But as she turns back to him, ready to ask what could possibly be more beautiful than this, Y/N realises he’s staring at her. A deep heat settles on her cheeks, and she smiles. When Bucky reaches cruising altitude and finally gets a free moment, she leans over, kissing his cheek.

“What was that for?” 

“Because I love you.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She and Bucky stay up in the air for the rest of the afternoon, pointing out parts of the skyline to each other and enjoying each other’s company. Yet, as the sun sets, colouring the sky with streaks of red, orange and pink, it’s time for them to come back down. Although she’s had a wonderful time, Y/N can’t help but feel a little disappointed at having to come back. Ideally, she’d have loved to have seen the entire sunset, and maybe even the moon and stars.

Of course, Bucky notices her disappointment right away. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I was just having a lot of fun, that’s all. Sad it’s over.” Yet, Bucky smiles knowingly.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s not over yet.” He opens the back of his car, pulling out some blankets and pillows. “I was thinking we could grab some food and watch the sunset together. I have a spot I used to go to when I wanted to get away from it all, which... turned out to be a lot of times actually. But now I’m so much happier than I ever was. I have my dream career, and my dream girl.” Y/N smiles, her stomach fluttering. She feels so lucky to be part of Bucky’s life, to see the places that are most important to him. “And… I’d like to show you it.” Y/N leans in, kissing him softly.

“That sounds perfect.” She smiles.

And for the rest of the night, Y/N and Bucky lay curled up together under a mound of pillows and blankets, watching as the stars and moon come out, each happy in each other’s company and warm embrace.

“I love you.” Bucky whispers, kissing her temple. “So much.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow @onceuponastory-library​ and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

[dark-elf-writes]

Ghosts and Greenery:

Sakumo being forced to watch as his son breaks around the edges and all but throws himself on his opponents blades despite never turning his weapons against himself. Not like Sakumo did. Never that.

Sakumo not telling him that even when Kakashi was home he spent as much time watching over Naruto as Sakumo himself did. Sakumo watching Naruto walk up to an ANBU in a hound mask and ask why he felt so sad.

Ughhhhhh. Right in my Hatake shaped feels. Those are sensitive you know.

one of their own has been left alone in a village of earth and trees when the sand and reefs have always been his birthright.

Red haired spirits traveling away from watery graves and leaving sun bleached bones unattended on sandy beaches for the first time in centuries.

Little naru hefting around a comically large flowerpot to give to kakashi “cuz orange flowers make me happy so now you’ll be happy too!

Plant growing competitions!!!

little Naruto would probably be really uncomfortable with human touch at first because the only kind he’s ever know is cold and sends shudders down even his spine sometimes. Warmth is something he’s always craved, but it’s lack has made it feel like too much. Though oddly enough, it’s only in certain situations. Lord thirds hand in his hair, Mizuki’s resting between his shoulder blades. Too much.

I hate everything. How DARE that hurt so much. Just fuckkkk

The only time warmth felt comfortable was when he pressed up against Hound-San, who felt enough like Uncle Sakumo that Naruto could forget the too hot feeling that made shoulder pats or side hugs feel so… weird.

Madras plant is called ash bringer and Tobiramas is snow cat

Madara called him a frigid cunt

And poor Naruto who already can’t focus is watching The Days of Our Afterlives play out in real time in front of him

Accidental rainforest cafe and stoned tree frog ref

Hashirama and Naruto hold funerals for the dead plants with the ghosts their named after crying in the background. Whenever a new generation is sent off, they get a speech for their “bravery and valor” and are thanked for their “sacrifice for the cause” which is making Kakashi happy.

Kakashi gets a fake plant after ten gens of ghost funerals and ghost-village wide send offs

They both do the knitting with senbon. Naruto makes the most garish neon sweaters that are so unfairly comfortable. Kakashi probably does a dog pattern. Omfg Pakkun with a little old man sweater

Sakumo is fully sold on the pair of Kiba-and-Akamaru taking care of his youngest pup for the rest of his life.

After the tenth WWE Smackdown between the two of them Naruto sits them down like toddlers and make them talk it out. Half of the time every week is dedicated to the Tobirama and Madara show because they never stop.

Sakumo having beef with a 13ish yr old (Rin) and the 13is yr old having beef with him

Epic rap battles of history: Konoha edition is giving me life

Naruto still being scared of ghost stories

Tobirama: I’m this close to killing you again Uchiha. I doubt your brother would even try to stop me considering how you’ve been treating him as of late. I also take issue with the tone and volume you’ve been speaking to him with. The way you place emphasis on his name in conversation is likewise unacceptable you pint sized, inconsiderate, rat faced bast-

while waiting for kakashi to show up for team meetings, absently says Hatake Kakashi three times (an easy way to get the ghosts attention) and the second he’s done Kakashi shows up. He starts doing it more and somehow every time it works.

Bites all of this

!!!!

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

Eskel silently absorbed Yennefer's cold, haughty tone and usual insults with no change in expression... they were far more often directed at Geralt or Lambert, but he had heard more than enough of them not to even blink. And he had heard far cruder insults from others, out on the Path. Nevertheless, she looked more angered than she usually did... he had struck a nerve of some sort with the comparison to the Winter Queen, the matter of her and Geralt still raw to her, likely. Just as it had followed and bothered him for many years, since he had first heard her name spoken by his brother. At her sudden demand, his viper eyes slowly met her frosty gaze again, considering it, and absently stroking his mutilated cheek once more. He supposed this particular conversation had been a long time coming now, but he had not expected it to ever be necessary. He hadn't expected to see her again, after her departure from Kaer Morhen, in the wake of their battle against the Wild Hunt... yet here they were, under strange circumstances. As usual, destiny and the Path enjoyed playing their little jokes on him, intertwining his fate with one he would never choose on his own to join it with. Taking another drink of his Mahakaman Spirit, savoring the burning sensation and taste, considering his words, at last his deep, calm tone answered... told the Sorceress the truth... or some of it, at least. Enough of it to start with.

"I believe what I have seen with my own eyes. Try seeing it from my perspective. On one hand, I saw you walking all over my brother for years, twisting him to your will. Using him. Changing the man I grew up with into resembling at times a White Wolf on a leash. You tried ordering us Witchers around likewise, in our own home, as if you had any authority over us. You have been part of the Lodge of Sorceresses. On the other hand, you risked your life fighting to protect Geralt's Child of Surprise, as well as defend my home, from the Wild Hunt. And now you help me with this suffering child, when you could teleport away any time. You have never been my friend nor my enemy. I hope you can begin to understand now why you have long made me uneasy. Uncertain of you. I do not yet know what you are to me. Yet destiny has chosen to place you on my Path. Continue to."

The Witcher paused in his words and train of thought, considering her icy violet eyes, the burning fireplace, and his memories that speaking of the shadows between them drew. The girl remained mercifully asleep, at least... though part of him almost wanted the demon to rattle around inside her again to shift the uncomfortable topic. A distraction from their present, less than pleasant situation. Fighting the worst kinds of monsters and demons were easier and more familiar territory than talking about his past to outsiders... the memories that made his scars itch furiously, as they were in the present. The Path was made for a solitary Witcher, just as their memories and experiences on it were. Yet it was different in this case, somehow. Yennefer reminded him of another Sorceress, all too well... just as the girl reminded him of another girl who he had been counting on. One he had failed... as he was now trying not to do with this one. Still trying to right wrongs that never could be. While he was on the subject... before he could stop himself, he addressed one of the related matters, jaw tightening bitterly. The one she had always reminded him of the most, from the moment they had met. One hadn't spoken of to another, in many years. He wasn't certain how much she knew, if Geralt had ever told her the story before, as he had Dandelion, inspiring him to compose a ballad about it... one Eskel had firmly ordered him not to perform again... but he intended to find out.

"There's more to it than all that. Sabrina Glevissig. She was once an old Aretuza classmate and Lodge friend of yours, wasn't she? You and Triss weren't the first Sorceresses I met. Nor the first of your kind to visit Kaer Morhen. Doubt she would have mentioned a simple Witcher like me, before that stake and fire finally caught up with her. The consequences of an all too long life of crimes. It was a long time ago. Another me. One more gullible... and cowardly."

@okruchlodu

Eskel glanced back over to Yennefer's alluring violet eyes again at her teasing words and smirk, remaining silent for a time as he considered them and her. He knew on some level she was mostly joking, desiring perhaps a back and forth, battle of wits, as they had been doing for years when they encountered one another. Yet... when he looked at her visage... not for the first time... Sabrina Glevissig's smirking face and falsely caring voice returned vividly and unpleasantly to mind. Her form hovering over his bed at Kaer Morhen, back in 1232, as she had tended to his wounds... and more. Her old Lodge and Aretuza friend, who Yennefer had uncomfortably reminded him of from the moment Geralt had first brought her to visit Kaer Morhen, many winters past. Conflicting feelings. Whatever else Yennefer was, she wasn't Sabrina, and had proven it during the battle of Kaer Morhen... even so, memories and feelings lingered. Eskel remembered their time together, what Sabrina had done to him and Deidre, among others. The unkind lessons about life and people he had learned from her cruelty, ambition and manipulations.

Even her eventual fitting death, being burned alive at the stake like the witch she had always been by the very oafish King she had wrapped around her finger, had not been satisfying to him when he had heard. Only left him more embittered and uncertain what to feel. Unsatisfied with the outcome. He had considered hunting her down for years, along with Stregobor and Eltibald over their involvement in the Black Sun matter... but had delayed too long, in her case. Dead for years, and still she haunted his nightmares, as much as the Trials, and what he had done to Deidre... his cowardice in not claiming her... rejecting her later at Kaer Morhen... and what he had eventually chosen to do to her in Ban Gleán. His culpability, forever intertwined with a wretch like Sabrina. The Witcher's cheek scars itched furiously at the many grim memories, keeping his features neutral as possible, and he rose a hand to scratch them absently. Then, when he had his words, his deep, languid voice spoke back to the raven haired Sorceress as much as to himself and the fire his viper eyes gazed into, between sips of his drink.

"Of a sort, perhaps. One of an acquired taste. Learned my lessons the hard way, as most do... if they ever learn anything. In my experience, men tend to be more naively romantic and gullible than ruthlessly pragmatic and self interested women... though it is women who eat romance up. Take full advantage of it. Why there are so many cloudy eyed fools in the world, being led around by their ears, by some henpecking nag. Fool Knights in Shining Armor, with their chivalry... why I have little love for Toussaint. Happened to Wolf more than once, but you know all about that... and happened to Lambert. Tried advising them, didn't listen to me, of course. All I could do was sit back and watch my brothers surrender the reins of their own lives to the whims of Sorceresses. Takes a rarer sort of man to remain a romantic, while seeing cold, hard reality for what it is. People for what they are. And not be forever chasing after the elusive Winter Queen. Choosing to remain in control of his own life, instead of the whims of others... destiny and its frequent, cruel japes notwithstanding, of course."

@okruchlodu

[lazywriters-blog]

Bizarre Drabbles

Apologies for any errors present.

The topic for today: Albedo has been slowly losing his sanity, plus the imposter is on the loose. More things to fret about. However, who is who?

Warning: May contain triggering content.

With the way things are, she can't resist the temptation of doubt, ever since the signs have been evident before her curious orifices, the suspicion surrounding the alchemist has only been increasing, at least in her case. It's subtle but, she swears she has never seen him act that way before. Even if he was around Klee, she has the right to be worried and distance herself from illicit things if it is out of her control. And so, she did. Attempting to detach her connections, and do so discreetly, she had planned to pursue her dreams, with the unspoken reason of parting ways for good, however, she wasn't stupid enough to let most of anyone who she knew, know that she was deciding a major turn in life.

She was playing it sneakily, her plans were private and no one other than herself knew about it, even albedo was clueless, even so, she had her guard up at all times.

The next observation frightened her to a new extent and the budding fear of dread was surely dominating her fondness. The way he stared at her, seamlessly managed to unnerve her, and the way he would suddenly grasp onto her wrist when she left without a warning, made her so uncomfortable. She wasn't certain how she was feeling at that moment, her mind had decided to shut off and she was merely on autopilot. But it wasn't a pleasant one, that much she can confirm.

In the current day and time, she remains on standby dreading the visit to meet the alchemist, he requested to meet since it's been too long, she remembers meeting not too long ago but she assumed it was his way of flirting or she was just being purposefully oblivious.

She had many things to worry about, so certain things are bound to evade her thoughts. Eventually, the time arrived and she prepares herself mentally. The place he wanted to see her was at the nearby lake, and she was early.

"It is good to see you." Almost on cue, he steps up into the light. Showing his rather mischievous smile, she slightly gulps, returning the gesture, "likewise, so.." She awkwardly looks away, trying to give words to her thoughts. "What are we doing today?" He raises his eyebrows, smirking as he approached her. Clueless, she watched him near her, and then she couldn't breathe. Landing on her back, his legs straddled around her, and her neck in a tense grip, he puts more pressure, he showed no emotion whatsoever, carrying on like he was merely performing a mundane task.

He continued choking her, fingers tightly squeezing the air out of her, the burning feeling inside her chest worsened, her heart running rampant, and the supply of oxygen drawing low, she struggled, but he pushes harder, strengthening his hold, she toiled in a frantic need for air. She was going to die.

Removing her hand off of his arms, she swiftly pins her finger into one of his eyes, harshly applying force in hopes of loosening his hold from pain. But then... She wakes up, in a cold sweat.

Was it just a dream?

The days continued despite her lack of awareness and motivation, she decided to leave for good this time since the paranoia and dismay were eating away her ease, she couldn't handle being around him when she felt so... Terrified. In fear of having that dream become a reality, she avoided albedo to a severe extent, on a reasonable basis, but it wouldn't last long enough for her to calm her nerves and not mentally scar herself.

Locked up in the refuge of her home, she looks up upon hearing the knock on the front door, she had a bad feeling about it, so on an illogical decision, she decides to ignore it. The person knocked a couple more times before leaving her alone, which she guessed was the case, but nothing could prepare her for what happened next.

The entrance opened and in came albedo, tacitly locking the door behind him, he smiled, asking, "How are you?" As he spoke, he quickly slipped the key into his pocket, steadily moving towards her figure. He had a spare key with him, this entire time? How did he? "I came here to find you. You've been quite... Private recently. Something bothering you?"

His footsteps grew closer and ceases in front of her eyes, gently caressing her cheeks, "have you been crying?" Wordlessly she shook her head, cautiously eyeing him. "I see." Glued to her spot, she watches his eyes slightly glow, and the striking awe in his eyes was so palpable, it made her feel somewhat cautious, he wouldn't try to hurt her right?

"Why are you so stiff?" He all of a sudden inquired, wrapping his hand onto her shoulder, nothing was going between the two, they were just professional chums, but she could presume he didn't think the same ideals, perhaps her advances were considered romantic, or she did one single slip up that understandably was erroneous. She glanced into his eyes, nervously plastering on a grin, stretching her lips forcefully to form a bittersweet smile, she said, "oh not at all, I just remembered I had borrowed your equipment the other day and forgot to return them." She sheepishly rubbed her hands, unable to maintain eye contact.

"Oh right, but you needn't worry about it now." She quickly shook her head, pulling herself back from his grip and putting in some distance, "oh please! I have to return it to you now or else I'll probably forget again!" She insisted, nippily dashing towards the entrance of her cellar. He silently followed behind her, watching as she descended to get his items, with a blank stare, he traced one of the vases he knew she had modded, adding a little few details that screamed of her. Eventually, she came back, the males face greeting her right near the entrance, alert she swiftly hands him his favourite tool, which she was certain he wouldn't lend her or attain since when was he interested in gardening?

He gestured a sweet smile, gently taking it off her possession, looking up, she guessed he would move but he said something strange that she ultimately couldn't comprehend. The next moment she knew, he pushed her off balance and she fell down the stairs, effectively knocking herself out. Before she did lose awareness, she thought she heard a loud crack, her head throbbed and her hand felt twisted, how could he do this to her?

The next time, anyone saw her, she was happily smiling away with her friends. Talking with albedo, singing praises. However, something about her was different.

Nobody would know that the real her had vanished a long time ago, and she was merely a clone of her. An identical copy, of you.

Perhaps, she was dead.

And not even he could hope to comprehend, that she was an imposter.

[ivorydragoness44]

Murtagh Morzansson x Reader: A Sense

Word Count: 406

Summary: The Reader wakes up and has a feeling that something is going to happen.

Warnings: None

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

  The night was quiet, not even the sounds of a dragon’s breath or snore could be heard. Yet, you stirred, eyes peering out into the room.

  Slowly, your eyes adjusted to the darkness. You were becoming more awake than you would have preferred. Then, the thought crossed your mind: why were you awake? You were not uncomfortable; neither too warm or cold. The blankets were not strangling your legs nor too far out of place. Surely there had to be a reason.

  Adjusting your head on the pillow, there grew a sense. A sense that something was going to occur. It was that sense that you began to focus on. It was a kind of feeling that swept over your entire body. With it, you became abundantly alert.

  Stilling yourself, you trained your attention to any would be sounds outside the home. None, however, were heard. Instead, you felt a gentle touch of lips to your shoulder. Murtagh.

  Turning your head to him, you let out a breath you had been holding.

  Murtagh took notice of your body becoming less tense; the way your shoulders slacked and your head sunk the slightest into the pillow.

  “Are you all right?” He asked, his voice equally as quiet as the bedroom.

  “I am now,” you confessed, relaxing further into his cool eyes.

  “What was troubling you?”

  You took a breath in quick consideration. Of course you were going to tell him, but it would take nothing short of artistry to ensure that your response would not make cause for his own alarm. Though, at this hour, you were not so certain if you could manage such a feat. “I knew that something was about to happen, but I did not know what……Thankfully, it was you.”

  A small smile pulled at his lips. “My apologies.”

  “Thank you, but there really is no need. I would much rather wake up to you any time.”

  This brought a smile out from the pair of you.

  “May I sleep through the night so that you may enjoy a restful sleep without any worry.”

  A comforting warmth, one so familiar now, swam over you at his words. Pulling the blanket out of your way, you moved over to Murtagh, cuddling up beside him.

  “That sounds fair enough,” you said as he likewise wrapped his arms around you.

  “Yes,” he kissed your forehead softly, “and I shall see you when the sun rises.”

[mosshead-lover]

A to Z with Capt’n Levi

Levi Headcanons

A/n: I was suddenly short of words when I was writing this. Lol. I managed to finish. Lemme know how you like it, okay? * Baby bear face*

A: Attention - Loves getting attention from you, especially when swarmed with work, when you offer to make tea or a back massage, or even take care of his hardness. He loves them all equally.

B: Books - One of the traits Levi admires in you is that you read. He often offers to read to you and asks you to correct him if he mispronounces something. Since he grew up underground and never had access to proper education, he is kind of conscious of his spellings. The grave expression he makes as he starts reading makes him look like an innocent kid that thinks he is on the most critical mission of his lifetime.

C: Chivalry - The Captain is chivalrous, indeed. He often brings you flowers. All white, however. He believes in the purity of love and which other colors can signify it better. Moreover, it's his favorite.

D: Dirty Talk - Levi sucks at it, okay? His blunt honesty doesn’t aid the fact.

You: So, you have been accused of damaging someone’s private property, causing flood after flood. I must take you into custody(eying at the bed).

Him: Oh.

You: (trying to keep up) Will you take a look at the damage you’ve caused?

Him: Sure.

E: Enthuse(what excites him?) - It may sound cliche but, You calling him *Captain* when alone is the biggest turn on for him.

F: Foreplay - Levi likes feeling every inch of your body before he gets on with the actual business. He nibbles and kisses the most random places, making your body ask for more, slowly making his way to the sensitive parts. So, You tell me, who’s the king of foreplay?

G: Gifts- Levi doesn't wait for an occasion to get you something, nor do you. If you come across a vintage teapot or a new cleaning tool, you pick it up immediately. Likewise, if he finds something that you’d use or look good on you, he is bringing it home.

H: Hugs- Levi isn't much of a hugger but offers to when you are super low and need comfort. Levi always rests his chin on your shoulder when he hugs you. Back hugs, on the other hand, are very common to him. Especially after a long day, he wants to come home to your warmth and nothing else.

I: Ideal Date- Levi has enough adventures at work already so, Home dates are a luxury for him and you. You begin with morning tea and a little chat. You cook breakfast together and clean too before hitting the bedroom. Aftercare includes a shower, hair drying, and a little snack followed by his wholesome tea. You might go on a small horse ride or a walk in the evening.

J: Jealousy - Levi doesn’t show envy. If something is bothering him, he will be honest with you about it. But, he is sure to lose it if someone stares at you or makes you feel uncomfortable.

K: Kill - Would he kill for you? Ack. You know it already!

L: Liquor (Do you get drunk together?)-

Occasionally you do. Levi seems to hold his booze quite well. Levi does enjoy watching you get drunk and go berserk. Of course, he is there if things go out of hand. That's why you drink crazy in the first place.

M: Massages - He is on the receiving end, mostly. Since he stays awake late at night working, you often offer him shoulder massages.

N: Nos(Turnoffs) - Not addressing the elephant in the room, untidiness, and cold tea.

O: Ogle - Was he ogling you before you got together? Yes. Does he still do? YES! and you love it when those bluish-grey deep set of eyes check you out like it's the first time. The captain’s eyes speak louder than his mouth, and you're more than okay with it.

P: PDA-Levi isn’t a fan tbh. The most you do is hold hands in public except on the last Valentine's day when you were crossing the bridge. The atmosphere was so irresistible that you had to kiss him.

Q: Quarrel- Like any other couple, you have your differences too. Friction between you two is mostly because of Levi’s poor work-life balance and his OCD. Nothing that can't be taken care of before the day ends.

R: Roleplaying- Housekeeper and the owner any day. Oh, and you switch the roles too. Guess who looks darn cute wearing that white lacy headpiece?

S: Snuggles- Does he get Cozy with you often? Not really. Not that he doesn’t like it, it’s just that he can’t initiate. He never discourages you from snuggling up to him. You spoon most of the winter nights.

T: Tickle - Is he Ticklish? Surprisingly Yes. Humanity’s strongest soldier is also one big ass sensitive baby. A Tickle battle is one of those rare things that gets a peal of laughter out of him.

U: Underrated part- His butt! His sinfully sexy butt. You often kindle him by whacking that piece of art. His reaction is worth a million dollars.

V: Variety - Who brings in variety in the relationship? You, Definitely. You are always trying out new stuff. Thanks to his honest feedback, it’s easier to find something you both like, sooner.

W: Walks- When Levi doesn’t have to jump right back to work after dinner, he asks you to go on walks. They are the best. You get to catch up with each other’s day, and Levi is usually in a good mood post walks.

X: X-mas - Well, Christmas is just a decoy. What is more important is his birthday, which falls on the same day. He doesn't like celebrating or even remembering it. The last time you baked a cake and wished him, he said.

”I see. You're eager to celebrate me getting another year closer to death,”

You stopped bothering him since then. You still decorate the house, bake his favorite cookies, and dress up. His birthday coinciding with Christmas is a blessing in disguise, after all.

Y: Yes - Stuff that might seem annoying but, Levi doesn’t mind- A little goofy-ness, snapping at him, messing up his hair, and mimicking him.

Z: Zzzzz/Sleep - What type of a sleeper is he? Levi doesn't snore but moves a lot in his sleep! Often he wakes up in the middle of the night, settles on a chair for the rest of the night. Despite you assuring that throwing his limbs around in sleep does not bother you.

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Check out my New Year’s Levi list:

Eleven Minutes in Levi Heaven

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Click the bear to checkout my other work:

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[mrpenguinpants]

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Aww, I give major points to anyone that actually reads my tags because it’s a whole lot of word vomit and brainworms. THIS IS MY FINAL OFFERING TO CHILDE SO BUDDY  👏 COME 👏 HOME 👏 This will probably be my last fic this week since I’m going to be busy with term tests and 1.1. Can you tell how slow I am with these asks?

I need to stop tagging so much because tumblr keeps making me repost...

This isn’t necessarily a part 2 from my other Childe fic [ “Enemies” to “Lovers” ] but you can go ahead and read it that way. Not sure if this counts for tags but it doesn’t hurt. To be honest, I was planning for this to be the direct part 2 but then his character story dropped and I got slapped in the face with inspiration.

 [taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret​ @diaxfeliz​ @wintergreen-aix​ @dandelily​ @thegayrubberducky​ @lovelykittycatmeow​ @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​

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Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Your relationship with Tartaglia is unorthodox to say the least. Usually, the average length of an engagement is 13 to 18 months but you didn’t need a calendar to tell you it’s been far longer than that. You probably spent more time with your fiancé’s sister than with the man himself but that was okay with you. Tonia was a really sweet girl and you knew what you were getting into when you accepted and returned his feelings when you two first started going out.

Before he became a Harbinger you were friend’s with him and Tonia. Almost everyone in Snezhnaya was part of the Fatui, working in factories, or a devote follower of Tsaritsa. So it was a breath of fresh air to meet two people that didn’t align themselves to that mindset or become a slave to work. You slowly became closer to the two siblings until the day a stuttering and pink Tartaglia confessed his feelings to you. You think back on that moment fondly since that was probably the first and last time you’ve seen him act in such a shy manner.

The day he proposed to you was the night right before he became a Harbinger. It wasn’t anything grand and you were pretty sure he hadn’t even told Tonia he was planning on proposing that very night. He said that he was waiting for the right moment and somehow felt the right moment was when you were in-between consciousness. When you couldn’t even give him a proper answer since he popped the question right as you fell asleep, but for all intensive purposes, that was probably on purpose. You had to chase him down in freezing cold weather, coat not even properly tied, as you yelled he was a piece of shit and that if he never came back you would hunt him down and kill him yourself.

He just grinned innocently and waved back to you as the ship departed. When asked by a curious merchant who wasn’t native to Snezhnaya asked if he had some...family issues he simply waved it off and said you were his beloved fiancé. The merchant was left very confused on Snezhnaya’s customs and traditions on marriage.

You both made an agreement that only he would write to you. He said that it was because trying to get in contact with him would be impossible, considering how often he moves, plus the different names he goes under. But in actuality, it’s because he want’s to keep the people closest to him as private as possible. The Fatui know of his sister already and most likely know of your existence but as long as he remains a Harbinger they can’t do anything. He won’t let them. But the Fatui have many enemies and while he hates denying your existence, if it’s to make sure you live a peaceful life with his sister, he’ll continue to pretend he’s never heard of your name before.

While he writes to his sister that he’s taking care of trivial matters when he’s on his assignment, he writes a bit more honestly and detailed in his hidden letters to you. You make sure to keep them in a box hidden away from Tonia so she never discovers them but you have an inkling she knows what her brother is up to. She watches the way your face pinches, that your fingers clutch the paper a little tighter, and how you seem to tap the page two times in sequence.

Despite the raging winter storms that swirl around Snezhnaya, you are always warm. He thinks you’re secretly a pyro vision user waiting for the right moment to make good on your word and burn him alive. Whenever his travel’s run late into the night and he arrives home tired and cold, he seeks Tonia’s room to make sure she’s sleeping peacefully. Then to you to do the same. Sometimes when you’re lucky and you wake up early, you’re greeted to Tartaglia clinging onto you refusing to move because you’re warm. Even going through daily routine’s he always has an arm around you or some part of his body against yours. You feel that his habits is rubbing off on his sister because slow morning’s like these see’s you as the human heater. With Tonia hugging you from the front, arms wrapped around your waist, while Tartaglia support’s from behind, arms around the both of you. Your hands laced with his as you both act as a shield for little Tonia.  

Tartaglia’s hands are always numb. He could be in Natlan where it never snows or facing the harsh winters of Snezhnaya, they are always numb. As if the skin of his fingertips were scalded off. Touching anything gives him an uncomfortable sensation so he wears gloves all the time except for two occasions. When he need’s to replace his gloves with a new pair or to lace your hand into his. He can vaguely feel the heat from your hand, see that you don’t have the same callouses that he has from wielding weapons, and can feel the same tingling sensation that would usually have him wrenching his bare hand away if it had been anything or anyone else, besides his sister of course. Instead he holds on as if you’re his last lifeline in the middle of the ocean, commits to memory the feeling of your hand in his, and the pins and needles that prick his fingertips fade away.

He grows restless when life is ordinary and boring so he’s always off fighting or doing something completely dangerous. He was the same before he became a Harbinger which leads to some fights between the two of you. You both handle fight’s pretty badly due to the upbringing of Snezhnaya and it makes Tonia sad when she sees her family argue. So instead you convey your inner worries through taps. One is for annoyance. Two is for worry. Three is for anger.  Likewise, Tartaglia has his own system.

On one rare occasion, Zhongli managed to catch the sight of a flicker of light on Tartaglia’s clothing. It confuses him since aren’t ring’s meant to be worn on the hand? The only response he get’s from Childe when he asks why is a vague answer filled with mirth. He say’s that he’s holding onto it for someone. Zhongli doesn’t quite understand since wouldn’t it be better to keep the ring in a box if it were meant for someone else? Childe wears a ring on his pinky already but it might be a Snezhnaya tradition to wear one ring on the hand, while the other is close to the heart.

He keeps his cheerful attitude on even when it feels as if the world is crushing him. That might be why he names himself Childe. But when it’s just the two of you he takes the mask off, the armor slips off, and let’s himself relax. Time’s like this he just wants to hold you and as he puts it, recharge.

For all his confident nature in fighting he knows that a committed relationship with him is hard. That if you ever want to walk away and find someone new he won’t stop you, but that you never contact him or his family. He won’t open his heart for another person for a long while or ever. He would still give you your ring and whatever you choose to do with it is up to you.

Tartaglia’s goals won’t change. He still has his family to take care of and even if you decide to leave, that doesn’t change the fact he still sees you as apart of his family.

You don’t mind if his goal takes him away from Snezhnaya for years and years. Or if the letter’s he writes become fewer and fewer.  As long as he comes home you don’t mind waiting.

It’s the middle of the night and he’s still awake. He just returned from his last assignment and Tsaritsa is already sending him across Teyvat for “business” related reasons. He just finished checking up on Tonia to see her sleeping soundly. She’s growing up really fast, he smiles slightly at the thought. She can already sleep on her own. He gently opens the door to your room, well really it’s both of yours but he hasn’t been doing a lot of sleeping there, and cringes slightly at the creek the doors give.

He takes a small minute to lean on the doorway and relaxes. He won’t have enough time to bask in your presence if he’s too make it on time. The winter storm continues outside, as if Tsaritsa herself is yelling at him to start moving. He doesn’t think there’s ever been an instance when they’ve been silent.

“I care about three things in this world. My sister, you, and my home,” Tartalia says softly as he walks over and kneels down beside your laying form, resting his hand beside yours as he places a soft kiss on temple. “When those three things are safe I can rest.”

You tap him two times. Your hand has laced around his in a loose grip to which he tightens. You both sit in silence as he wait’s for the pins and needles to stop spreading across his arm before speaking again.

“I know I already proposed but let’s elope somewhere. My next assignment is taking me to Liyue. I heard it’s quite a beautiful place. I’m thinking a spring wedding perhaps?”

One more tap but he’s learned to take your annoyance as you jesting or being flustered.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you ask.

“I can try but I can’t guarantee everyone else will be,” he laughs.  

You tap him three times. If you weren’t half asleep you would have probably thrown your pillow at him. He gives one last chuckle as his finger’s rubs patterns into your hand.

“I promise,” he swears.

He hears you hum happily as you begin to relax back into slumber. Slowly letting the feeling of his heartbeat lull you to sleep until your grip loosens around his wrist. Even as the winter winds howl outside you can sleep so peacefully. Unlike him where in the back of his mind are restless thoughts. Tsaritsa is asking something huge of him, another test of his loyalty and strength. He silently stands up as to not wake you again, gives you one last squeeze of the hand, one last fond look, before he leaves. Closing the door as quietly as he can, he steels himself to go back out into the cold.

[yonemurishiroku]

Immortal Nico di Angelo - Relationships pt.2, The Seven

Immortal, self-love Nico pt.1.

Immortal, self-love Nico - Relationships pt.1.

- Jason: Nico keeps in touch with him. He’d occasionally shows up in front of his doorsteps, walks out from the living room’s doors or sitting on the windowsill. Jason doesn’t mind. Nico catches up with him, telling stories about new experiences and new people and likewise. Nico doesn’t tell Jason where he’ll go next or where to find him, and Jason never asks either.

To Jason, Nico would come to him when he wants and he never has any problems waiting for the little guy.

That day after the Gaea war, Jason was troubled, sad, that Nico decided to leave despite his efforts to convince him. However, when Nico returns afterwards, immortal and adapting, happy and confident in his own way, Jason can’t help but feel relief, even when the idea of two of his closest people ending up immortal weirded him out a little bit.

Still, when Nico tells him about his trips, his Underworld family, about Zagreus and Alex Fierro and Anubis - those ones of whom Jason has never heard, he can’t stop wondering if everything’d be the same if Nico had stayed. And does the answer truly dictate that Nico doesn’t belong to them - to the Camps, to their people, including Jason himself.

- Hazel (and Frank): Nico checks up the most regularly, both in Camp Jupiter and after the couple have moved out.

Hazel was disappointed and worried that Nico wouldn’t stay and had tried to convince him every time she had the chance. Yet as the time flows and Nico seemed better, Hazel eventually accepted, even she barely has any clue about what has changed him. When Nico finally told her about his immortality, Hazel’s only reaction was to ask if Nico regretted it. He doesn’t. So as long as he still comes to see her regularly, happy and smiling, Hazel has nothing to complain.

She wouldn’t let him go if Nico didn’t tell her what happened between his visits, though.

Nico helped them pick the new home (bc connections etc…) and worries over everything concerning them, small or big, tho he makes sure not to be too controlling.

The couple does fight, of course. Although Nico is borderline overprotective towards Hazel, he doesn’t outright harm Frank for fighting with Hazel since he knows it happens (or at least that was what Jason told him) and they have to resolve it on their own, only gives Frank a deep scowl and scolds when it’s all over. He only makes sure no violence involves and interferes when things go too far.

When Hazel goes into labor, Nico stays in the hotel along with Frank, help take care of Hazel afterwards, deliver baby gifts from Hades. The baby later takes Nico as their godfather.

Nico still calls the children niece and nephew tho.

- Percy: Since Nico left right after the war with barely any interaction with Percy, their relationship remained somewhat,,, strained (?). It’s not entirely uncomfortable nor cold, Nico has no problem seeing the son of Poseidon. His attraction towards the older one was replaced by self-enjoyment, not mention that Nico has ceased craving romance ever since he found solace in his own freedom.

However, the rift between them never closes up, as Nico had left it all crumble to dust before Percy could work it out himself.

Nico came, one day, saying that he had stopped blaming Percy for Bianca’s death and let go all the grudges, reassuring Percy that he was happy now. Their relationship settled just like that - with Nico single-handed cutting off all the tangled, not giving Percy a chance to see through it.

It was like instead of finding the way out of a dark tunnel, Nico reached the light by digging through the walls, crawling his way up through dirt and stones, bothered not to see the end of the maze. The closure never came, for Nico had found his own way, and Percy was left alone, forever wondering about the end of the tunnel.

Like water slipping through their fingers, Nico lets them all go and greets Percy with what only belongs to normal friends, still the sarcastic one. As if their past had never crossed.

For that, the guilt perseveres. History cannot be erased and the future Nico has chosen doesn’t include an end for Percy’s self-blames. The pain has stopped growing yet is still there, a lump in the back of his throat, a pang in the deepest drawer of his chest, undeniable, unforgiving.

They meet, whenever Jason or Hazel manage to invite Nico to one of the usual parties. And their interactions seem too distant for those who have gone through so much together.

Nico even attended Percy and Annabeth’s weddings, smiling ever genuinely, giving sincere blessings and caring presents. Percy caught Jason’s gazing worriedly towards Nico a few times, yet the young one’s smile never wavered and his eyes were as clear as the starry sky.

- Frank, Piper and Leo: It was like nothing changes, really. It’s not like the three were particularly close with Nico. His changes barely means anything to them, if anything they are merely less scared of Nico’s presence and more freaked out by his sudden appearance/ scaring pranks. If anything, it weirds them out a little bit.

Like coming across an old friend and suddenly realizing that you have missed so much in their life despite once being relatively close.

Frank has the most chances to interact with Nico, being his sister’s husband. However, he feels like there’s still a wall between them, and the fact that Nico doesn’t seem troubled by it even the slightest makes it even harder to be put down.

Their relationships remain merely as friends, for Nico has dumped it all and restarted. It helps lighten up the darkness of their bitter past, yet also severs every tie they had.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Fake dating Drabble No. 5

Today with Dave York and 2k (🤡) of being undercover married to him (F) because the neighbors are leaders of a terrorist organization. The leader get a little too handsy at the dinner you had been invited to and Dave does sell the jealous husband very, very well.  Steph’s fake dating Drabble week

Warnings: cursing, inappropriate touching, masturbation, implied sexual content

It wasn’t like you had a choice when the CIA decided that you had to go undercover. It wasn’t the first time and it most likely wouldn’t be the last. But three months in, without having anyone to talk to except your partner, or the neighbors who most likely were the most dangerous people you had ever encountered, it was starting to frustrate you that there was no new information you could provide. But tonight the neighbors had invited you and your partner over for dinner.

Oh yes. You also had to pretend to be married to Dave York, who was your partner for this mission. It didn’t help that you were spending all your time with a man that always seemed to be plotting murder whenever you caught him starring looking at you. These last months were hard. You weren’t used to living with someone, let alone pretending to be in love as soon as you left the walls of the CIA proofed house you were living in with him.

Dave York was a mystery not only to you, but to everyone at the CIA. You always felt a little uncomfortable every time he looked at you and you couldn’t place why. He was nothing but polite towards everyone, but there was something dark surrounding him. Like he knew more than everyone around him. Like he knew all the dirty secrets. Your dirty secrets.

But it also had it’s advantages living with someone. It was nice waking up to the smell of coffee, a mug waiting for you on the counter just as you liked it, while Dave was checking his mails on his laptop. Part of your undercover identity was being the devoted housewife while Dave played the role of the husband who worked as an accountant from home.

You knew he had been married before, but somehow you never felt comfortable to ask him any personal questions. He never asked you either. Every other day you found yourself sitting next to him on the sofa after dinner, his arm on the couch behind you, without touching you, while you watched some netflix together. So people who walked by your house could see that you were a perfectly normal married couple.

He always let you decide what to watch.

“What do you want to watch?” you had asked one evening.

“I don’t really care. I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Really? And here I thought you were a couch potato,” you had a glass of wine on that evening and you could have sworn you saw him hide a smile before you started a new episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

“You ready?” he asked through your closed bedroom door. You were occupying the master bedroom, while he slept in the guest room. You decided on a yellow summer dress for the dinner at your neighbors. You felt a little naked with your exposed shoulders and legs, but it was a hot day and it would make zero sense to be wearing something you could sneak your gun in. You knew Dave would be carrying a gun, he always did. And you had no choice but to trust him. Not that he had given you any indication as to not trust him.

You took one last look in the mirror before you walked towards the door and opened it. Dave looked at you, his eyes taking you in for a second before there was this twitch at his lips again. A small smile and this time you were sure of it and you had no idea how to feel about it.

“Come on, we gonna be late,” he said quietly.

He took your hand as soon as he locked the front door, a bottle of wine in his arm.

“If we’re lucky we are finally going to get some intel tonight. These fuckers are a suspicious bunch,” he said as he leaned closer to whisper. You nodded.

“I would be suspicious too if I was running a terrorist organisation from a suburban neighborhood.”

“True,” he chuckled, “You make sure to stay in sight. We don’t know what kind of people these are and I want you to be safe.”

“Aww are you worried about me, hubby?” you teased.

“No. I’m worried about them. I have no doubt that you could take them out if you want to.”

“Wow. That almost sounded like a compliment, Dave,”

“It was, just… Don’t try to be the hero. We knew this would be a longer mission and if we’re lucky tonight might finally be the start of getting things going.”

“I know,” you squeezed his hand and breathed in deep.

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded, plastering a fake smile on your lips as he knocked on the door.

Dave really could play the perfect husband. He even remembered what you were allergic to, making sure that no trace of parsley could be found on your plate. At one point he excused himself to the bathroom, giving your leg a squeeze. His hand had been placed on your knee as soon as you had sat down at the dinner table and it almost seemed like he needed some kind of connection to ground himself. You spend enough time with him to know that he was on edge ever since he came back from smoking with the man you knew to be the leader of this whole organisation you were here to get more information from.

His hand went up to your shoulder when he got up and to your surprise he leaned down to kiss your temple before he left the room. You were so surprised by this gesture you almost jumped when you felt someone sit down next to you.

“So… How long have you been married?” he asked. You looked at him, Bill, the man who was responsible for thousands of deaths. You smiled, remembering the story the CIA had manufactured for you.

“Second anniversary is coming up.”

“How did the two of you meet?” he asked and you felt his eyes growing cold. You were now being interrogated.

“That’s a silly story,” you laughed, shaking your head in played embarrassment. Bill only looked at you, waiting for your answer.

“Well we went to College together. We never really had much in common. He’s into numbers, I’m more creative. After college we went our separate ways but years after I needed an accountant for my business and his name popped up.”

“What kind of business?” he asked.

“I used to own a flower shop back in DC. I sold it once Dave got the job offer here.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Not really. Where he goes, I go. And I’m actually looking into opening a new one. Just looked at some properties last week.”

“That’s nice. If you need any help just say the word. I have connections in this city,” Bill nodded, getting closer. It took everything in you not to flinch as his hand came down on your thigh. Much higher than it was appropriate. You gulped.

“I mean it, if you need anything, just say the word,” he was so close now you could feel his nose on your cheek. Closing your eyes you thought about all the ways you could break his wrists within the next 15 minutes when you heard Dave call for you as he walked back into the room.

“Everything okay?” he asked. Bill only looked up at him, giving him a smirk, before he squeezed your leg and let go of you.

“Everything’s fine. We’re just getting to know each other, isn’t that right?” he asked. You nodded with a smile that hopefully didn’t look too pained.

“Great. Well I hate to cut this short, but we got an early morning,” Dave’s hand was on your shoulder and you turned your head to look up at him, your hand coming down on top of his.

“Oh, well. It was nice getting to know you,” Bill said. You got up from your seat and Dave’s arm sneaked around your waist immediately, bringing you closer to him and you let your head fall against his shoulder.

“Likewise,” Dave said, following Bill to the door.

“You’re a beautiful couple. Let’s do this again,” Bill said, his eyes lingering on you. You only nodded, thanking him before you let Dave lead you down the Driveway.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. You only nodded.

“If you would have come into the room 10 seconds later I would have blown our cover. Fuck he’s a creep.”

“He also is involved in way more shit than we originally thought,” he reached into the pocket of his pants, showing you a USB Flash Drive.

“What did you find?” you asked. He shook his head, looking over his shoulder.

“Not here,” he whispered. His arm around you tightened.

“He’s still watching?” you asked. He nodded. “Kiss me,” you whispered. Dave stopped walking and looked at you.

“You just saw someone touching your wife… I think we need to sell this better, I could feel him watching us all night.”

He breathed in deep, closing his eyes before they opened and he pushed you against the tree you just passed.

You couldn’t even take a breath before his lips crashed down on yours, his hand on the back of your hand, so he didn’t hurt you. He towered over you, his body pressed against your and you tried to suppress the moan at the feeling of his lips against yours but failed miserably. He used your surprise to dive his tongue into your mouth and your arms flew up to hold on to him.

“Dave…” you sighed.

“I’m right now playing a very, very fucking jealous husband sweetheart…” he groaned.

“Fuck…” you let your head fall back as his lip wandered down your neck. You felt his thigh between your legs.

“Is he still looking?” he asked, rubbing his thigh over your core.  You looked over his shoulder, seeing no one standing outside.

“No…” you gasped, rolling your hips. Fuck you were wet. He kissed you again, before he whispered against your lips.

“Good, then let’s go home.”

You were more than confused. As soon as you were back in the house, Dave let go of you and went to his room with a mumbled “Good night.”

You on the other hand were still trying to get your brain to slow the fuck down. You were undercover. This was all just an act. Right? Dave York was the best agent around and he knew what he was doing. You had to get your libido under control just because he kissed you once. Groaning to yourself you stripped off your clothes to take a shower. Which should only have taken a couple of minutes, but you just couldn’t stop thinking about Dave. How his lips felt, how his hands felt, how it would feel if he would push you against the wall and fuck you senseless.

“Fuuuck…” you moaned quietly, touching yourself, growing frustrated when you just couldn’t make yourself cum, knowing he was just down the hallway. Shaking your head you got out of the shower, drying yourself off, not bothering to change into your pajamas. You needed to cum. Getting out your vibrator your sighed, wondering how big Dave was when you opened the door and found the man in question sitting on your bed, looking at you with hungry eyes, asking:

“Need any help with that?”

[disasterofastory]

Secret (Benedict B. x Reader)

Secret Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Warnings: none

Y/N and Benedict Bridgerton meet two times.

The pastel-colored walls are decorated with green plants and white flowers. The floor under you is freshly polished, and the chandelier above you is grand and lustrous. The slowly burning candles’ flames dance in rhythm with the guests. There is a huge painting not far from the orchestra about somebody who is probably already dead. You stare at the dead man’s painted eyes for who knows how long. The music and the chatter mixed around you. You feel the cold wall behind you, and one of the lush plants tickles your bare arm as you move closer to hide from everybody. The corset around you is too tight, and the dress you wear is too flowery for your liking. Of course, you are still luckier than poor Penelope in her yellow dress. The mentioned girl looks at you from the other side of the ballroom with a sympathetic expression. You smile at her before you go back, staring at the painting on the wall.

Who is he? Does it matter? Probably not.

A grip on your arm wakes you up from your thoughts. You feel the pull as your mother tries to make you follow her. Her glove on your skin is silky in contrast with her tense voice.

“You will never get married if you act like a plant,” she says to you, looking back at your disinterested form.

“Where are you going?” You ask her, trying to stop her without success.

“It’s time for you to act like a proper lady,” she says to you, not answering your question. You puff at her intentions. You still have time. If it were up to you, you would have nothing but time. 

You sigh again, looking up at the painting, and before you know, your mother stops in her tracks, and you almost bump into her back. You still stare at the unknown man on the wall as if he could help you. His painted eyes follow you as you move behind your mother. The stern expression on his face is constant and detailed.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” Your mother greets the tall man who turns around to look at you two.

His brown hair is styled messily, and his smile is polite but not honest.

“Mrs. Y/L/N,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Bridgerton,” your mother says, pulling on your arm, so you stand next to her. “I thought it’s time to introduce my daughter,” she continues without shame.

“Miss,” he says, turning to you.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you answer while he grabs your hand softly to kiss your knuckles. Your throat is tight, and your smile is frozen in your face by discomfort. You feel like a cow on sale at the market.

Your mother leaves with a lame excuse, and you stay with the tall Bridgerton.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, shutting your eyes for a moment. “My mother…”

“Ambitious,” he ends your sentence, and you smile at him apologetically. “If it comforts you, my mother probably already plans our wedding,” he continues, glancing at his mother, who watches you with a joyful smile.

The silence becomes awkward between you two while the room around you is still noisy and cheerful.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” you tell him after a while, glancing up at the painting then back to the man before you. “I go and… hide.”

Benedict laughs at your confession.

“Before you go,” he says, reaching out to you. “I think our mothers would be calmer after a dance,” he offers, and thinking through his words, you accept his hand.

The music becomes slow as you move into the man’s embrace. His touch is soft but confident.

The painted man follows your steps as you dance around with the second son of Lord Bridgerton.

You meet Benedict Bridgerton in different circumstances the next time.

Instead of a flowery, uncomfortable ball gown, you wear a simple, light dress without gloves and heavy, shiny jewelry. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun, and your hands are black from the coal between your fingers.

You breathe in the cigars’ typical smell as you lean closer to the canvas before you. You look up at the naked women to see their shadowed bodies at the center of the room.

When you first come here, you were red as a tomato. You felt ashamed, and you couldn’t draw because of the awkwardness. You never saw so much bare skin besides yours, and you needed much more sessions with Mr. Granville’s humorous company to feel comfortable enough to focus on your art. Since then, the studio became your safe place. You come here when the ton becomes too much, and you need space. You know the others keep your secret about your desire to draw, and you can drink and smoke without prying, judging eyes on you. You are aware, if your scandalous hobby comes to light one day, you will be ruined, and you risk your family’s name every time you come here, but until then, you just enjoy these hours among similarly interested people like you. 

“Miss Y/L/N?” Somebody says your name with clear surprise in his voice.

You look up from your draw to see Benedict Bridgerton looking down on your sitting form.

“Mr. Briderton,” you greet him with a polite smile. Your voice is much lighter and friendlier than the last time you met him. “It’s a surprise to see you here.”

“I could say the same thing,” he says, sitting down behind a blank canvas next to you.

“And I would be happy if it would remain between us.”

“Of course, Miss,” he nods with a half-smile.

“You can call me Y/N, if you want,” you tell him, reaching out one of your coal-covered hands for a shake.

In different circumstances, your action would be rude, but here, in Mr. Granville’s studio, the rules are insignificant. You can be equal here and not just a woman who has to marry and bear children. 

“Benedict,” he introduces himself, accepting your hand for a gentle shake.

After the short encounter, both of you turn back to your canvases to start or continue your drawings.

The silence between you is comfortable. Sometimes Benedict turns to you for advice, and you ask his opinion about your work. There are times when he asks you something personal, and you question him about her sister’s debut. He tells you something funny, or he laughs at your improper comments on something.

“I think it’s time for me to go home,” you sigh. “Before my mama starts to search for me.”

“Let me escort you home,” Benedict says, standing up from his seat. He seems like an enthusiastic child who found a new friend, and you almost laugh at his boyish grin. 

“I would like that,” you nod, accepting his arm as you walk out of the warm night to get a carriage.

For long minutes you just sit in front of each other, looking out of the dark streets. The carriage moves slowly with you in it. You hear the horses’ hooves rhythmic steps on the streets, getting closer and closer to the familiar house you live in.

“I would like to see you more,” he says, breaking the pleasant silence.

“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton,” you answer with a cheeky smile as you stand up to get out after the horses stop.

Before you close the door, you smile at each other one last time like two kids who have a big, exciting secret you have to hide from the world. 

[cancerjupiter]

🌱earth moons🌱

Those with earthy Moons react in a very grounded, matter-of-fact way. The reaction may be so self-contained in those with Taurus or Capricorn Moon, in fact, that others may wonder if there has been any reaction. Those with Virgo Moon, on the other hand, react rather quickly, mentally, and sometimes nervously to any stimulus in a way obvious to everyone, even if the person is trying to contain his or her emotional reaction. Just like the earth itself, those with an Earth Moon have a crust over their emotional reactions; and they prefer to present a certain form to the public rather than to reveal their vulnerabilities.

taurus moon

The Moon is extraordinarily happy in the comfortable, stable sign of Taurus, for the emotions are steady and the person has little self-doubt. Those with the Moon in Taurus are not easily perturbed, even by powerful attacks or shocking events that would strongly affect others. They are in fact amazingly resilient, bouncing back from any defeat, disappointment, or trauma. Perfect examples are politicians Bill Clinton and Joe Biden, and celebrities Demi Lovato and Lindsay Lohan; who, despite unmerciful attacks, still manage to have their shit together and maintain at least some degree of popularity.

The poise with which Taurus Moon people face life’s demands and unpredictability is remarkable, and they therefore have a steadying influence on others, who appreciatively value their reliability. Note that I said “reliability,” not necessarily readiness! This sign is known for being the slowest in the zodiac, moving actively only when they are good and ready and insisting on their own pace in everything they do in life. Their inner contentment and resistance to change can thus make them frustrating to deal with if their considerable stubbornness causes them to dig in their heels to resist what you want. The other side of the coin is their remarkable persistence when they are focused on attaining a certain goal.

Those with Taurus Moon are attuned to the rhythms of nature and the earth, and this gives them their particular pace of life and much of their strength. They are notably physical and sensual, and have a great need for the “pleasures of life.” And they insist on taking the time to enjoy them. This unique attunement leads to a trust in earthly life that enables them to accept others with few demands and to take life as it comes. They are pleased with life (generally) and rather pleased with themselves. This can of course result in smugness, conceited self-satisfaction, and self-indulgent laziness. As Grant Lewi wrote, the key to improving oneself for Taurus Moon is to “turn self-satisfaction into active self-confidence”.

Emotionally, those with this Moon sign are not at all cold, but neither do they readily reveal their feelings. They are good listeners and are usually warmly responsive and solidly supportive, but not gushingly effusive. They really prefer not to allow anything to affect them. Some comments from questionnaire responses add additional perspectives to this lunar type:

1. “Seems very positive, giving men good relationships with women. It also appears to give talent in crafts such as cooking and other home arts.”

2. “ … sensual, heightened sense of material/physical aesthetics (e.g., clothing, home, colors, etc.), wonderful sense of humor, stubborn, and sometimes impervious to what’s going on beneath the surface of things.”

People with the Moon in Taurus like to be touched, especially to be hugged. Also, I’ve noticed a certain resistance to change. This resistance ranges (in different people) between a reluctance to accept the moods of another and a reluctance to allow any out-of-the-ordinary spontaneity to enter their life (usually hate surprises).

virgo moon

Those with Virgo Moon need a sense of order in their own minds and in the environment to feel comfortable and secure. This leads to their instinctive analytical reaction to all life experience, sorting their perceptions and thoughts into categories and discriminating between them according to their personal principles or prejudices. This need for order also motivates their obsession with neatness and cleanliness. They likewise feel more secure by making definite improvements in their environment, in their scientific, artistic, or intellectual pursuits, or—something not always appreciated with this sign—in other people. In fact, as one woman wrote in a questionnaire, “Sometimes they can be busybodies, putting others’ lives in order with advice—usually not so tactful. They’re so busy organizing friends’ lives that they forget about their own”. This “workaholic” tendency can also manifest as a broad range of criticism from afar directed even at total strangers who, evidently, just don’t measure up to the Virgo level of perfection.

Being helpful makes them feel better about themselves and aids them in overcoming their habitual self-doubt and sense of personal imperfection. In fact, “perfectionism” is a keyword for Virgo, and their unavoidable awareness of their own imperfections leads often to excessive self-consciousness, sometimes of a type so severe as to render them unable to use their genuine gifts with any confidence. Their tendency to notice the imperfections of others, and to voice those observations far too often, frequently makes the other person feel uncomfortably and unproductively self-conscious. Those with Virgo Moon would do better to heed their deep need to serve and to help others or improve things in the outer world. By doing so, they can eventually gain a sense of having improved themselves—at least in the modest way they will allow themselves to acknowledge. Virgo is the most modest sign in the zodiac—one of the few, in fact. Virgo Moon people can seem shy and reserved.

Habitually nervous types with a tendency to worry, Virgo Moon people often find their personal tranquility and self-validation in work and compulsive “busyness.” Work also provides an escape from the unpleasant emotions or depressing feelings of guilt or worthlessness that so often afflict those with this Moon position. But, because emotions interfere with productivity, as Donna Cunningham points out in Moon Signs, they are conveniently put aside or suppressed in the routine of daily life. Hence, Virgo Moons are among the few people who love all kinds of petty, boring activities — even housework. A friend with this placement even admitted to dreaming about being a mother/grandmother, so she could do chores and serve her family all day (of course, she’s also a Cancer Rising).

Doubt and skepticism pervade their mode of thinking and reacting, and of course there is always something to criticize in any person, place, thing, or concept. The infinitely small is always available as a target! This constant mental tension and the sensitivity of their nervous system, and their hyper-attunement to hygiene and purity, make these folks fascinated by and eager for involvement in the areas of nutrition, biological sciences, natural therapies, the healing arts, and/or the medical professions. This natural affinity also, however, bends them toward hypochondria, at its worst, or at least to a sensitive digestive and/or intestinal system. The quality of the food they eat is of utmost importance, since it directly affects their nerves and mental state, not just their digestion.

Their talent for detailed work is without equal (except for those with certain other planets in Virgo), and they often get great satisfaction from employing their natural craftsmanship in the practical or fine arts. Because their mind can always find something wrong with any idea or plan, indecision often afflicts those with this Moon placement. Moral indecision as well is often observed, as their perfectionist and puritanical tendencies battle with their more practical or sensual needs.

capricorn moon

Those with Capricorn Moon, as is also the case when other major planets or the Ascendant are in Capricorn, seem unnaturally old and serious when they are young, but they can lighten up as they grow older. In their youth, they are unusually capable, disciplined, and conservative, taking the well-trodden path to their goals of worldly achievement or to follow a vocation. Their real confidence is late-blooming, as their sense of inner security develops over time and they feel that their age at least, if not their accomplishments, has earned them some respect they have always craved. Capricorn Moon people eventually learn to relax somewhat and to trust life and other people to a greater extent. The aura of melancholy that those with Capricorn attunement so often carry around with them can also slowly dissipate over time, sometimes helped by a more and more adventurous—but dry—sense of humor.

The fluctuating, responsive, emotional Moon is not at all naturally comfortable in a sign that is often rigid and distant, and prides itself on not revealing any sign of vulnerability or personal need. People with Capricorn Moon have instinctive reactions to life that are characterized by self-control and caution, and sometimes by a defensiveness or negativity that is almost shocking. They feel that they need to manipulate and control the world (and their feelings) in order to attain the power, authority, and recognition that they deeply desire. In fact, they are most secure within themselves when their identity is confirmed by a social role, title, specific duty, or mantle of authority. Even at an early age, Capricorn Moon people are comfortable assuming responsibility and feel perfectly at home in the role of provider, protector, or organizer. They are most relaxed and truly themselves when they are carrying some weight, or when others have to depend on them! Very hardworking, these folks share with Virgo first place on the list of people who absolutely love to work, which often ultimately results in professional success. They may not always be fun, but they will often get the job done.

Perhaps the most oppressive thing about this group occurs in those who become too obsessed with being recognized as important and having authority; sometimes, there is a persistent “one-upmanship” that pervades their personal and professional lives. The constant drive to be “on top” can cripple their capacity for any human intimacy and eliciting automatic distrust from others. As psychologist-astrologer Glenn Perry, Ph.D., wrote,

“The tight controlled responses often lead to loneliness and despair as it prevents the individual from flowing and responding to the changing mood of others. Moon in Capricorn nurtures by taking charge and giving orders. This dry mechanical approach to feelings is not sympathetic and tends to imply that the other is incompetent. Unable to respond directly to emotional needs, Moon in Capricorn gives the impression of being callous, hardened and unaffected by the tender side of life. (Aspects magazine, Fall 1981)”

If the emotional suppression and denial become chronically extreme and rigid, the result can be a person who others may respect but not love. However, from another view (from the inside, so to speak) of this Moon sign’s emotional nature, I quote here from an interview with a Capricorn Moon young woman who characterized herself to me as having “a seriousness about the emotional life, an interest in getting down to bare bones, an impatience with small talk, and a need to get to the core emotionally.” She continues:

“All Capricorn Moons I know (there have been a lot) have a certain gravity to them, an ability to take the emotional life seriously. The women especially are almost never giggly or flirty — we’re too serious to flirt much. The women are kind of ‘masculine’ I guess, sort of businesslike in their manner (men too actually… it’s not a placement I ever see that is friends with everyone and instantly, openly affectionate). I think ‘a few serious, long-term friendships’ sums up all the Capricorn Moons I know.”

A questionnaire reply from another woman also emphasized that women with this capable, ambitious orientation are liable to feel “ambivalent about their sexual identity,” although they have strong physical needs, and that women with Capricorn Moon have “a great need for appreciation to develop their self-worth”. Two other questionnaires confirmed the self-disclosure quoted above regarding the practical agenda underlying emotional commitments. The words they used were “cool in affections and looks out for self” and “very calculating—not necessarily bad—just a lot of planning, no spur-of-the-moment reactions.” Another quite thorough questionnaire reply from an experienced practitioner of astrology included the following:

“this Moon placement shows marked proficiency in handling the self in the material world, or at least a lot of concern over and attunement to material affairs. They are very shrewd in taking care of their financial needs. Very often they are involved in some secure structure, like working for the government, etc. They like a secure financial position. For all, they take things very seriously; they approach many things cautiously. This is also a very sexual placement in laid-back ways.”

In conclusion, the Capricorn demeanor of slowness, caution, and hesitation should never mislead you. They may be conservative in most attitudes, but they are actually very progressive and results-oriented in action. They just don’t like to make mistakes.

[strawberry--bride]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sharon’s Route [DARK 10]

Location: Sakamaki manor ;; Bathroom

*Splash*

Sharon: ...Phew. 

( At least the cold water helped me calm down a little... )

She turns off the faucet.

Sharon: ...Huh?

( Hold on...Something seems off...? )

Sharon stares at herself in the mirror.

Sharon: As if something is missiーー Ah!

*Rustle rustle*

Sharon: My hairclip...! I-It’s gone!? 

But how...!? When did I...!? 

*FLASHBACK*

Laito: However...Seeing the despair in your eyes does trigger a little something inside of me.

Say, why don’t we both just give in to our own greedy desiresーー

Sharon: ( N-No... )

Laito: ーー and have some fun together~?

He brushes her hair to the side, face nearing her neck.

*Rustle*

Sharon: ( ...Stop! )

Sharon pushes him away just in time.

*Thud*

Laito: ...Woah!

*FLASHBACK ENDS*

Sharon: ( Right! It must have happened when Laito-kun brushed my hair to the side! )

( In that case, it might still be on the floor in the entrance hall! )

She dashes out of the bathroom.

Location: Sakamaki manor ;; Entrance hall

Sharon: ...

( It’s not here... )

( But how...? I’m pretty sure I was still wearing it when I came home from school, right? )

( Maybe someone picked it up...? )

( Either way, I have to look for it! )

Location: Sakamaki manor ;; Playroom

Ayato: Haah? Hair clip? How should I know?

Sharon: So you haven’t picked it up or seen it around?

Ayato: I’m not interested in that girly shit. Besides, I was here playin’ pool the whole time.

Sharon: I see...

Location: Sakamaki manor ;; Living room

Kanato: Your hair clip...?

Sharon: Yes. I think I lost it in the entrance hall. Have you seen it around, perhaps?

Kanato: I have not. ...Teddy says he does not know either.

Sharon: Ah...

( Another dead end... )

Location: Sakamaki manor ;; Hallway

Reiji: My apologies. I have not seen your hair clip around.

However, if Laito was the last person you were with when you lost it, I would suggest asking him.

Sharon: ...Right.

( Reiji-san does most of the cleaning around the manor, so I was hoping he would be the one who picked it up. )

( Even if Laito-kun did find it, I’m not very hopeful he’ll just hand it back to me. )

Sharon: Thank you for the advice. I’ll do so. ...Have a good night.

Reiji: Likewise.

Reiji closes the door.

*Thud*

Sharon: Haah...

She starts walking towards Laito’s room.

Sharon: ( I’m somewhat anxious, but I do want my hair clip back. )

( That hair clip...I can’t afford to lose it. )

( It’s one of the few things I have left to remind me ofーー )

...Kyah!

*Rustle*

She suddenly trips and falls face first onto the floor.

*THUD*

Sharon: Owowow...

???: ...Nn...

Sharon: ( What was that...!? Did I just trip on air...!? )

???: Oi... Watch where you’re going next time...

Sharon: Eh?

Sharon: ( S-Shuu-san! )

( He must have been sleeping on the floor again... )

Shuu: Heeh...No strawberries today?

Sharon: ...Eh?

*Rustle*

Sharon: Ah!

( My skirt must have moved up when I hit the floor! )

She quickly fixes her clothes.

*Rustle rustle*

Sharon: ...W-Why were you sleeping on the floor again? Isn’t it uncomfortable?

Shuu: Pwaah...It’s too much of a drag to walk to my room. 

...Or are you offering to carry me instead?

Sharon: Well...

( I’m pretty sure that would be impossible even if I wanted to. )

Shuu: Then don’t complain. It’s none of your business anyway, is it?

Sharon: Yes...

Shuu: You...

Sharon: Hm...?

Shuu: You seemed to be in a rush just now. I could hear your annoying footsteps from miles away.

Sharon: I’m actually looking for my hair clip right now. I think I lost it somewhere inside the manor.

Shuu: All that ruckus for a single hair clip? Haah...You humans are such strange creatures.

Sharon: It’s not just a hair clip...!

That hair clip...It was given to me by someone important. 

Someone who’s no longer with me.

Shuu: ...

She clenches her fists.

Sharon: Although I suppose you wouldn’t get that.

Vampires are immortal, right?

I doubt you’ve ever experienced the loss of a loved oーー

He suddenly grabs her wrists, pinning her down against the floor.

*Thud*

Sharon: ...!!

( E-Eh...? What...!? )

Shuu: ...

Sharon: ( The look in his eyes...It’s different from usual... )

( It seems...oddly familiar... )

( Has he perhaps...? )

S-Sorry...I went too far...

Shuu: ‘Sorry’...? I’m sorry to break it to you, but apologies hold little meaning to us.

Sharon: Then what should I...?

Shuu: Heh. You could show your remorse through actions. 

Your blood...Let me suck it.

*RIIIIIP*

Sharon: ...!!

Shuu-san, waiー!

Shuu bites her right above the cleavage.

Sharon: Uuーー!

( What’s this...!? It hurts...! )

S-Shuu...san...

Shuu: Nn...Mmh...

Sharon: ( It isn’t just painful either...It’s like the place he’s drinking from has been set on fire...It burns! )

Shuu: ーー Hah. ...A little sweet for my tastes, but not bad. 

Sharon: ...

Shuu: What? Did you really think you could avoid this? Did you forget why you were send to this manor in the first place?

Sharon: ...I remember.

Shuu: Yet you’ve barely made any attempts at escape, have you? 

In other words...You might have been anticipating this. 

...Heh. You lewd woman.

Shuu moves away.

Shuu: Pwaah...That only made me even more tired. I’m going to my room to nap. 

Ahー Be careful not to get any blood on the carpet. If you do, Reiji will make sure you regret it for the rest of your life.

He leaves.

Sharon: ...

( I can’t...I have to go look for my hair clip butーー )

( For some reason...My body won’t move... )

( I actually had my blood sucked... )

( However, it’s just like Shuu-san said. I knew this would happen one day or another. )

( As long as I remain here. )

( I will never be more than just a prey. )

Monologue

I carefully brushed my fingertips against the fresh bite marks,

the pain reminding me that this was not just a bad dream.

How could I have been so naive,

to assume that I could continue living with six Vampires,

without ever becoming their meal.

However, the thing which lingered on my mind the longest,

was not the fact I had been bitten,

but the look in Shuu-san’s eyes, when I spoke those words.

Perhaps, in the past,

he also lost someone dear to him?

ーー DARK 10: END ーー

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