#[ AND Y’ALL’RE RIGHT ]

[iskierka]

re: your post about ace aziraphale (or i guess, not ace aziraphale) as an aspec person i agree. it’s an important headcanon to me that that angel fucks. crowley however has never had sex and that is also important to me (but maybe he will one day. they’ll figure it out eventually)

no yes exactly exactly am with u 100%. like there are a million different ways crowley could be aspec and all of them are correct. if he did fuck it would b Aziraphale. but he’s certainly never fucked before

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

Someone posted rpf on a post I made. I feel famous now

[bokunoheros]

"katsuki...!"

CHARACTER: KATSUKI BAKUGOU GENRE: SMUT, angst if you squint TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab (katsuki calls you princess once and it’s in mocking), swearing (obvi), hate/angry sex, reader and katsuki are childhood friends (to enemies) to fuck buddies, y’all’re in your 3rd yr of highschool, drool/spit, impact/quirk play, pussy spanking, mentions of blood,  WORD COUNT: 3.6k SUMMARY: you never seem to have a problem calling katsuki by his first name — except for in the bedroom, and he’s finally had enough of it. 🦊’s A/N: this is a repost bc i didn’t like the way this performed the first time // if you’ve read this before, no you havent

     one thing katsuki bakugou hated about you was the way you refused to call him by anything other than his first name—hell, you wouldn’t even call him kacchan, a name he had learned to barely tolerate without popping a blood vessel. 

     another thing he hated even more about you was the fact that whenever you two finally got over your horrid, god-awful sexual tension that the entire class was sick of, was the way you suddenly refused to call him katsuki. no, whenever he found himself fucking you in the dorms while everyone else is asleep, it was all you could do to whimper “bakugou—”, which pissed katsuki off to no end. the bedroom was the one place where you should be calling him by his first name and yet… you completely and utterly refused to do so! simply for the sole purpose of pissing him off and riling him up. 

     “ba–baku—ahh!” you cry as he shoves your face down into the mattress while giving your ass a hard smack. “christ!” you whine, voice muffled by the plush bedding. 

     “that’s not—m’fuckin’ name, and i think you know that, sweetheart.” his voice is overflowing with frustration and condescension as his hips smack against your ass repeatedly, heavy balls smacking against your throbbing clit.  

     “it— it’s lit–literally your name,” you correct him, arching your back deeper and wiggling your reddening rear. “fuck’s got you—ah!—all worked up, huh, bakugou?”

     he feels his eye twitch at your words, and he lets out a deep, frustrated growl before he’s smacking your ass again, this time with the addition of his quirk popping off once his large and very calloused hand came into contact with your bare, sweaty skin. 

     “fuck! goddammit!” you whine, hands desperately grabbing at his black sheets. “baku–gou!”

     “just—say my name fucking properly, dammit!” he demands, panting heavily as he continues to thrust his awfully girthy cock in and out of your snug little cunt. “you never seem to have a problem with it any other goddamn time!”

     “i— i dunno wh–what the fuck you’re talkin’ about,” you quip back, turning your head to the side in attempt to look back at katsuki — he doesn’t let you, though, as he shoves your face further into the bed, squishing your cheeks in the process, and you try to fight back against his grasp, but he’s just simply too strong for you to stand any real chance. and that pissed you off like nothing else. 

     katsuki could act the way he did because he had the firepower and skills to actually back his words. this always resulted in him absolutely dominating you in the bedroom, naturally. sometimes, you were able to give him a run for his money, but ultimately, he beat you out everytime, sexually bullying you into submission — physical submission, at least. you always had something nasty to spit out at him, regardless of the position he had you in or how meanly he was fucking into you.

     “sure, bitch,” he pants out, landing another cruel quirk-based impact to the tender flesh of your ass, and it’s all you can do to bite the pillow to keep from crying out. 

     “f-fine then, kacchan,” you smirk to yourself, beyond pleased with your answer. “‘s that bet—aa-ow! fuck! ba–bakugou!” you sob as he brings his right hand down hard against your asscheek, his quirk literally popping off as his calloused palm makes contact with your sensitive skin before he stills himself inside of you entirely.

     “alright—you wanna act like a brat? i’ll treat you like one then,” he says, eerily calm all of sudden. that wasn't like him. not at all. 

     oh, you were in trouble for real this time.

     the realization is slow to dawn on you, but once it does, you find your body moving faster than your brain can process, trying to scramble away from your fuck buddy, just for you to freeze at the feeling of him jerking you back by you hair, pulling you onto your knees and your naked back against his equally bare chest. one strong hand snakes down to between your soaked inner thighs and presses the calloused pad of one finger directly against your achy clit as his dick twitches deep inside you.

     “ba–baku—”

     “nuh-uh, say it properly,” he hisses, suddenly bringing that same hand down against your poor cunt.

     “ah! fuck!!” you cry, thrashing in his grip, hands coming up behind you to tangle into his spikyass hair. “you cunt!” you spit at him, tugging harshly at his roots, hard enough to tilt his head back, and this is where katsuki really begins to lose whatever little patience he had left. snatching your slimmer wrists in one large and rough hand, he pins them behind your back before he goes to bite at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

     “i’m the cunt?” he actually laughs in your ear before bringing his free hand down hard against the mound of your pussy, and you whimper like a bitch, squirming desperately in his grasp. “no, i think you’ve got a couple things backwards, honey,” he chides, voice gruff as a shit-eating smirk spreads across his unfairly handsome face. 

     “fuck, i can’t stand you,” you whine out, still struggling against katsuki’s all-too-tight grip. “l-let go, fuckface!” 

     rather than dignifying you with a verbal answer, bakugou simply strikes his palm against your bare cunt again, thick, calloused fingertips landing onto your puffy clit, causing you to hiss and bite your lower lip harshly to keep from squealing the way you knew he wanted you to. 

     “oh, don’t be like that,” he grunts, licking a hot stripe up your neck before sucking and nipping harshly at the skin there, sloppily laving his tongue over a few particularly sensitive spots before biting down cruelly against them. 

     while katsuki was not a sloppy person by any degree, he was stupidly messy when it came to his behaviors in the bedroom — he didn’t care where his spit or drool got, or even yours for that matter, where he came on you, none of it really mattered so long as he washed his sheets prior to sleeping in them. one thing he couldn’t stand was sleeping in a mess the two of you had made….. which was odd, because that’s often what he found himself doing..! absolutely crashing after fucking you almost to the point of going non-verbal before subconsciously cuddling you closer, just for you to be gone in the morning, like you were never there to begin with. 

     truthfully, he would find his heart aching ever so slightly at your absence before he quickly swallowed down whatever feelings that may have tried to well up to the surface before telling himself to get his fuckin’ shit together and going about his day — usually being the first to wake, yes, even before iida, so he could wash his sheets in private without any nosey extras around to ask stupid questions.

     but back to the topic at hand, getting you to moan his goddamn name!!

     “baku–gou!” you whine, hips squirming as your cunt flutters around his thick cock. “jesus christ!” 

     “huh? somethin’ the matter, princess?” he asks in that ever aggressive tone as the hand that had just spanked your now throbbing cunt comes up to meanly pinch one of your stiffened nipples. 

     “fuck—you!” you spit out, arms straining in his heated grasp.

     “that’s—shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight—exactly what ‘m doin’ right now, and you’re still bitchin’!” he hisses, grip on your wrists tightening substantially — so much so, you were sure there would be bruises in the morning. simultaneously, the feleing of his pelvis smacking against your sore ass as he began to pick up the speed at which he was fucking you had you groaning in pleasure.

     “god–dammit! bakugou!” 

     katsuki could not, for the life of him, understand why it was that you absolutely refused to call him by his first name in bed but in every other aspect of your lives! ever since you two were children, you always called him by his first name — never bakugou, never kacchan, always katsuki, or maybe some other variation of his name like katsu or tsuki if you really wanted to mess with him — so when you two Finally hooked up for the first time at the beginning of your third year of highschool, he definitely noticed when you called him by his surname for the first time since???? he can ever fucking remember. 

     what katsuki didn’t know, however, was that it was just far too intimate for you to call him by his first name as he fucks into you like there’s no tomorrow — for you had maybe have had a small crush on him when you two were in elementary school still, and then you had a massive falling out in middle school due to his, erm, prideful, arrogant, stick-your-nose-up, i’m-so-much-better-than-you attitude and god awful anger issues. 

     and then, once your first year of highschool rolled around, you were horrified to discover that you two would be in the same class together. …if only you could have predicted developing another stupid crush on bakugou, you never would have gone to u.a. — you should have just gone to shiketsu like your gut originally told you to. 

     because now here you were, being absolutely fucking railed during your senior year of highschool by somebody you’ve known most your life who you currently found yourself obsessing over in the worst possible ways. you found that your mind was always wandering to him when it wasn’t preoccupied with something else, and even when it was, it still found someway to link it back to katsuki fucking bakugou! how terrible it is to be in a love-hate relationship with someone you wish could love you back—instead, you were sure katsuki held only hatred and anger towards you, the same way he did with izuku back in their first year and all of middle school. but, ….so much. has happened since then, so surely, maybe, he might feel something for you too? 

     he did, in fact, feel so, so much for you, that he physically could not bear the weight of his emotions—the only way he seemed able to relieve any of them was when he was drilling into you like he fucking hated your guts, and even then, they only intensified and chipped ever so slowly away at his hardened heart that was secretly tender on the very inside because of how you denied him any real intimacy.

     “just say my fucking name, goddammit,” he growls, pulling out of you entirely and releasing your arms for but a moment to flip you around and onto the mattress so that you were laying on your back before grabbing the backs of your knees and simply folding you in half as he looks down between your bodies, lining his thick, throbbing dick up with your drooling slit and bottoming out in one go.

     the sudden change in, well, everything, leaves you disoriented, and just as you go to whine and bitch yet again, katsuki impulsively cuts you off with a kiss, breaking the one rule that he had set up before this whole arrangement began!! 

     “mmmh!” you squeal as the tip of his cock hits your cervix, but your noises are muffled by the way katsuki kisses you — hungrily, like you were a meal he didn’t know he had been craving for years, and he was finally getting to have to it for the first time. 

     in truth…. this was actually bakugou’s first kiss — he could never have been bothered with dating or showing any sort of romantic interest in anyone when that would just get in the way of his goal to become the number one pro hero, and yet…. here he found himself, hopelessly in love with you when he wasn’t even consciously aware of it, kissing you with a startling amount of passion and tongue and teeth. not that he didn’t know how to kiss, per se, he had seen plenty of fuckass movies that featured kissing, and he has to be the best at everything, of course, so it didn’t take him very long to figure out what he was doing. 

     with your legs thrown over his shoulders and spread apart, he was almost laying on you as he fucked into you fluidly, hips snapping back and forth, and it isn’t long before you find your arms wrapping around his neck and reluctantly kissing him back. you had to admit, the feeling of his plump lips felt nice against yours, and you had dreamt about kissing him for so long..! 

     nipping at your lower lip, katsuki’s tongue darts out to lick its way past your slightly parted lips and into your mouth, licking around the insides of your cheeks and over the grooves of your teeth. it’s aggressive and rough and brimming over with passion — everything you had imagined your first kiss with him to be and more. 

     “mmh, katsuki,” you mindlessly hum against his lips, too caught up in the moment, in the feeling of katsuki fucking bakugou initiating a kiss with you!, to realize just how intimate your current predicament was.

     katsuki, however, pauses in all that he was doing as his eyes fly wide open. 

     “what the fuck did you just say?” he asks, voice uncharacteristically quiet, as if he were scared the scene he found himself in would shatter before his very eyes—as if he could break it all, somehow. he was awfully good at breaking things, after all.

     “huh?” you yourself weren’t even aware of what you had said until a few moments later when it actually dawns on you. “oh. my god,” is all you’re able to say as your mind quickly begins reeling with too many overlapping thoughts for any of them to be coherent. 

     without saying anything else, bakugou resumes the way in which he was thrusting into you, kissing you feverishly once more. had he known that a little kiss was all it took for you to call out his name while he fucks you into next tuesday was all it took, then he would’ve kissed you the moment you two began hooking up.

     “b–baku—gou! slow down!” your request is swallowed whole by katsuki’s hot mouth as his tongue slips back into yours, teasingly swirling around your own wet muscle before he begins to suck on it, making you whimper and whine at the combined feeling of his dick pounding into you and this… tongue torture! (it wasn’t, actually—it felt a little too good if you were being honest; so good you were struggling to think.)

     “god–dammit!” he hisses when you call him by his surname again. nipping at the tip of your tongue so hard you swear you can taste blood, he brings one hand down in between your legs to aggressively rub at your pulsing clit. why? why can’t you just say my fucking name! he thinks angrily as he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. 

     “mmh—aa–aah! mmfhgh—” it’s all you’re able to do to moan as your mind melts away while katsuki applies a little too much pressure to your poor little bundle of nerves. “shit–!” despite the firmness of the circles he was rubbing against the bud, it still felt so good—so good that your back arched deeply off his memory foam mattress and you were unable to contain the string of soft moans that left your throat at the sensation. 

     pulling away from the kiss, breathless and a little drooly, bakugou’s free hand comes up to squish your cheeks harshly, causing your lips to part.

     “stick out your tongue,” he says gruffly, and for once, you actually listen to him, which comes off as a bit of shock to the man currently on top of you, but he easily plays it off, before taking aim and spitting in your fucking mouth — directly on your already slick muscle!

     “fuck—” he rasps out, watching your tongue retract back into your mouth as you wordlessly swallow his saliva while looking up at him with half-lidded, hazy eyes. as a result, he was physically unable to help the way his calloused fingers moved to pinch at your sensitive clit or the way his mouth quickly reattached to your neck to begin biting and sucking at the skin there all over again. 

     “ka–katsuki—!” you whine as he bites a little too hard, and suddenly you feel something warm sliding down the length of your neck. had he drawn blood? no… surely not…… 

     his hips react on their own at your pitiful cry of his name, and he groans against the column of your throat, teeth now poised over your jugular before he bites down again — much gentler in comparison this time, but still hard enough to elicit a squeal from you. 

     your hands fly up to grip at his hair, burying themselves in his roots and giving a firm tug.

     “say it again,” he growls, pulling off your bruised skin with a wet pop! so he could meet your lustful gaze. ….god, his eyes looked so vulnerable right now; so glassy, with burning red irises and a glassy reflection, you can’t help but comply with his demand. you had never seen him like this before, so raw, dripping with (sweat and) passion as he hovers over you, narrowed eyes boring into yours. 

     “ka–katsu–! –ki!” you cry out when he begins rubbing circles into your clit again after giving it another rough pinch. “fuck! katsuki!”

     “that’s right–!” he grunts out, hips snapping against your as his cock throbs inside you. he’s getting closer to an impending orgasm and he needs you to cum first — it just went with his personality of “having to be the best at everything.” so, by extension, this included sex and his partner’s pleasure. mostly because the first time you two fucked, you absolutely did not get off, which you made very apparent to katsuki, who took it Personally (especially since you had called him useless for not being able to make you cum), and made it his mission to give you at least two different orgasms the next time you slept together—something he was rather successful in.

     now, he had half a mind to fuck you until your creamy little pussy was raw and he couldn’t cum anymore, just so you wouldn’t have a chance of forgetting tonight—the first time you called him by his first name in bed (which would ultimately end up being a monumental stepping stone in your future relationship development).

     pulling him in for another kiss, you whine incessantly as you roll your hips up, cunt fluttering around him as an uncomfortable knot begins forming in your tummy, and you can’t help but squirm beneath him. 

     unfortunately for you and your diminishing bratty resolve, it wasn’t much longer before you were cumming with a cry of katsuki’s name, his first name, as your back arches, pressing your chest flush against his, as one large and calloused hands of his comes to press against the small of your back, holding you in place as you cream all around his achy cock, and before he knows it, he’s cumming too, just barely managing to pull out of you as hot, sticky cum lands on your lower stomach and you groan at the nasty feeling. 

     “jesus—i don’t understand why you can’t just wear a condom,” you complain, panting heavily, unwrapping your arms from around his neck.

     katsuki only rolls his eyes at your complaint before telling you “it’s because he doesn’t like the feeling” of it, when in reality, it was so he could be that much closer to you… whether he would even admit it to himself or not. 

     with a heavy sigh and tired legs, you get up and out of his bed and make your way to his bathroom to clean yourself up before picking your clothes off his dorm room floor and getting dressed and leaving without a word, only sparing katsuki a parting glance as he recollects himself on his bed. 

     he doesn’t understand why his heart feels so goddamn heavy as he watches you leave soundlessly, and it feels like it takes him a million and one years to fall asleep, because whenever he opens his eyes, it had gone from 2am to 5am, and he bitches out a groan before getting up to do his fucking laundry before anyone else decided to get up. as he does, though, he can’t help but think about you….. why? what was it about you that caught his attention? why couldn’t he just ignore these feelings? jesus fucking christ, he needs professional help. 

     and so, katsuki spends the time it takes to wash his sheets thinking of you, much to his chagrin, but… he just could not get you out of his mind, for better or for worse. fuck. maybe he would have to call off this whole ordeal. maybe that would fix him? ….fuck, his head hurts. stop thinking so much, idiot, it’s too early to get caught up in your feelings, he mentally berates himself, even though for him, it was always too early to get caught up in his feelings. whatever.

      after pulling his sheets from the dryer, he silently walks back to his room, passing yours in the process, where he stops and stares for a very brief moment, almost, almost contemplating knocking before he quickly carries on back to his dorm where he makes his bed in record time before going the fuck back to sleep. ….where he still thought about you. god save him.

K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[sirswooshnoodles]

Goose, geese

Mongoose, mongeese

No matter how many times I am confronted I will not falter. I know the truth. You cannot convince me otherwise. You can try, but you will fail.

[seaglassmelody]

Petty whinging under the cut

It’s so hard being a non-de Riva Rookanis Girlie tm, doubly so when you don’t care about the Crows

Veilguard didn’t do enough with Antivan politics for me to be interested in the Crows’ role there, and while I enjoy Teia and Viago and Illario, I am not particularly invested in them as individuals

And I’m deeply uninterested in this like. High society, Bridgerton-esque romance vibe that a lot of people are leaning into based on Lucanis’s Rich Boy Upbringing. The whole Rich Man, Poor/Outsider Woman (bc lbr it’s usually a woman) schtick is just NOT for me right now

And this is nothing against people enjoying that vibe! I do like it sometimes!

Like I want to be clear that I’m not like. Mad at anyone who likes those tropes or has a Rook de Riva or writes a bunch of Crow-focused stuff. I am happy y’all’re having fun, things I don’t like are allowed to exist in places I can see them, etc.

But I find myself avoiding the Rookanis community because so much of the fanon is entirely antithetical to how I see my Rook and Lucanis

(In my mind they’re both acting their expected personas- Rook and The First Talon - but they always have a safe place to be themselves with each other. Teia and Viago and Illario are not involved. Also my Rook doesn’t really get involved with the Crows- she’s busy being Rook and also a Mourn Watcher still)

It’s just frustrating because I feel like I have to build my sandcastle in a corner of the sandbox by myself because everyone else is doing things I can’t stand LMAO

But it’s ok, I’ll just keep hanging out with the Davrook and Emmrook girlies. Y’all’re fun :)

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 11 - Faerunian Birth Control

You learn about tea.

On AO3.

You emerge into what passes for morning. Or midnight. It’s fucking miserable, is what it is.

Every joint grinds and aches as you shuffle towards the dim glow of the almost campfire. Your legs move like an arthritic eighty-year-old granny, muscles stiff and creaking, and your head feels even worse.

Still catch yourself looking for white hair.

Astarion didn’t come back. You woke up alone. Again.

Some people is like that. You already know that. He ain’t even, like, alive, let alone being human. And y’all’s relationship (you do not blush over that word) (hopefully not so much other people notice) is still so new. Can barely stand itself up, let alone walk. Y’all’re figuring everything out, is all. And he was probably embarrassed.

You still look to his quiet tent as hurt twists your gut.

“Feeling better?” Gale says. Hands you a mug of cool tea. Fire won’t get hot enough to boil it hot, but y’all don’t got ice and Mr. Wizard don’t wanna use magic on that when he might need it to not get bit in the face again. So y’all get this tepid nonsense.

Still. It’s got some caffeine.

God almighty, you miss coffee.

You grunt a response. Feel all scraped thin again. Content to sit there by yourself and nurse your tea (and your feelings).

Gale tries to take a sip of his own mug and grimaces. Catches you looking. “Sorry. I just can’t bear a proper leaf at less than scorching.”

Maybe it’s cause his accent translates to your ears (thank you dirt potion) as British, but the man is not a fan of iced tea.

“Ain’t proper iced tea, neither,” you say. It ain’t sweet enough, on top of the ice shortage.

“What was it you called the drink again?” he says. It’s in English, carries a southern twang (ha), and comes out, “This drink speak what?”

You hide a smile on your next sip.  Anybody ever follows after you (if y’all survive this shit mess), they are gonna have some questions if they run into Gale.

A short English lesson begins (iced tea). It’s harder for him than learning Faerunese (Common) or Chondathan is for you. English is a bastard of a language on its good days, and ugly sounding to boot.

“But there’s no clear system of grammatical rules applying a plurality,” Gale mutters after a good five minutes. “The pronoun doesn’t change at all, unless it does, but then it changes the entire word and there’s no clear indication which nouns that even applies to! How do you—and I say this as an archmage, if you please—remember which is which?”

“Context” you say. Take a sip. “And plain old memorization. I don’t even get it right all the time. I don’t really think about it.”

“And the word do.” He drawls that one out. “What even is that word? It seems to have no set meaning, yet you say it isn’t a placeholder—”

Movement to the right. White on red. Astarion emerges. Usually, after he bites you, man is downright peppy. Eyes bright, hair glossy, crops watered. Now he’s got dark smears under his eyes, and blinks groggily at the dim sky.

“Ah,” Gale says. His mouth twists up in a half grin. “I see your attention has been rather stolen.”

Astarion looks over at that.

“Sorry,” you say, snapping back to Gale. Which is stupid. It’s not like Astarion didn’t notice. It’s not like he didn’t have his hand in your pants last night and then came— “I heard ‘do’ is a borrowed verb, possibly from a different language that got folded in a couple centuries ago.”

But Gale holds up a hand. Smile softer, now. “It’s quite alright. I understand the effect having a partner can have on one’s focus.”

Huh. That actually makes this all worse.

The scent of flowers drifts over you with a cool breeze. You try not to shudder as Shadowheart comes to a stop over you, her lips pressed thin.

“I…think I may see if our dear friend Karlach can do something with this awful tea,” Gale says and stands before you can even form a “wait”.

You lift a cup in salute to his retreat. Wish you could follow. But have to look up to catch Shadowheart dropping into the spot in the dirt next to you.

“Morning?” you say.

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” she says, because everybody in this camp is allergic to polite goddamn greetings. Except Wyll, who lifts his own cup of cool tea in a gesture of solidarity.

Then Shadowheart hands you a purple pouch the size of your fist.

“Uh,” you say.

“Nararoot,” she says. “You can slice off a piece about the size of a fingernail and eat it directly, or steep it into tea. It’s less bitter as tea, which I’ve heard you prefer.”

You take the pouch. Inside is what looks a lot like a cluster of ginger, except a purple-maroon color.

“Okay?” you say. Stare at her.

She holds that stare so long you’re sure she’s just gonna leave you hanging. Seems bemused about it, too. Then, “I assume you don’t want to be with child during all this? Take that twice a tenday, and you shouldn’t have to take other precautions.”

It’s…oh. Oh. She done gave you the Faerunian pill.

The rest of camp is suddenly real invested in downing cold breakfast and packing up. Astarion’s whole head is hidden behind an open book but…that fucker’s shoulders tremble. That bitch is laughing.

“I, uh,” you say. “I don’t think—”

Shadowheart leans forward, expression soft but real focused. “I don’t know what you’ve heard of vampires, but they can—very rarely—father a child. With our luck running the way it has been, I’d rather be cautious than not.”

It really ain’t about—also, y’all haven’t been doing the kinda stuff that would even result in that.

“I really don’t—”

“Unless you do want a child?” Shadowheart says, and there comes the judgmental eyebrow. Good god, she’s good at that.

Wyll chats with Lae’zel about y’all’s path for the day. Gale has found Karlach, who holds his mug between her hands—now glowing hot red—as she grins in a way that makes your seated-ass knees weak.

“I can’t,” you say. “Get pregnant.”

As the entire camp comes to one of them natural, unforeseen lulls in conversation at the same. Goddamn. Time the words leave your mouth.

“Fuck yeah!” Karlach says. The mug looks a bit soft in her hands, the liquid visibly boiling. She looks up, eyes wide. “Oh, uh, I meant. Sorry.”

Jesus strike you dead. You bring a hand up over your face.

“Oh,” Shadowheart says, blinking fast. “I, I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

And now she thinks she’s the one who done fucked up. God fucking damnit all.

“No,” you say. “It’s not. It ain’t nothing bad, I mean. I did it. Or, I had a doctor do it. A procedure.”

Queue the stealth glances you feel crawling over your scalp. Except from Lae’zel, who stares outright. And Astarion…still hiding behind his book but at least he ain’t laughing no more.

Is that something that’d bug him? Shadowheart said he might, maybe be able to knock up somebody. But it ain’t come up cause y’all’ve been together like that twice now in about a week.

But some people get real weird about that. Even when they think it’s a biological thing. If they learn you up and got your insurance to pay for it? Took the time outta your day to track down a doctor willing?

They get real fucking judgy and weird.

“It’s a procedure I asked for,” you say. “They take out two, small bits so you can’t. Not like, the whole thing. Just, uh, the parts that connect them. I ain’t never gonna get pregnant.”

“Right,” Shadowheart says. Glances away. Is…is she blushing? There certainly seems to be a touch of pink on them cheeks. She flashes you a strained smile. “It appears I’ve overstepped. I am sorry. I, well…”

She don’t look over to the red tent and the pale man lounging out in the front, pretending like he can’t hear every word.

You smile. Just a little. “You was doing your cleric thing and looking out for me. I appreciate it. Really.”

She stares another moment, searching for something in your face. Seems to find it and nods.

“You can, y’know. Might want this back.” You hold out the pouch, cause you ain’t sure how much the pill is here, but she takes it, so it ain’t like it just grows on the side of the road.

She more or less skedaddles after that. Nobody says shit. They leave you to sit there and finish off your room temperature tea. Which you do your best with, and shake the dribbles out. Can’t afford to use the limited water left to rinse it. Hopefully, Wyll was right and that inn ain’t far. Y’all got dried rations enough, but with no water, that ain’t gonna matter very long. And Astarion…

Lae’zel at least lets you know she’s coming this time, by approaching straight from the front. You look up. She stands there, arms crossed, peering down.

“Morning?” you try, because you are gonna get one of these fuckheads to say it back to you someday.

“Hmm,” she says, which is a step closer than last time. “You allow your physicians to gut you so you may use your body as you wish?”

That…is not any kinda description of what you said. All you can picture now is that space horror movie where that girl got into a machine to cut out the alien thing growing inside her.

“I have heard your kind cannot control when they lay an egg, as we githyanki do. I am surprised your people would go through such lengths in order to alter themselves. I thought them like you: too soft and weak to bear it.”

Huh. That’s…huh.

It was a pain in the ass to find a doctor that didn’t make you jump through a dozen “I really mean it, I never want kids and here’s eight referrals saying so and five years’ documentation to back that up” hoops.

And there’s a history with Native women and forced, unknowing sterilization, courtesy Uncle Sam. You never actually told nobody from your family what you done. Except Uncle Randy, who drove you to the appointment and back, all drugged up (and got you pizza afterwards, to eat on the couch with an ice packet on your belly). They all just figured you was gay and hiding it.

“Sure,” you say slowly. “Thanks?”

Lae’zel nods. Considers you again. “You will join me tomorrow so I may teach you how to wield your new weapon. You will join me all the mornings after as well. Consider that when you make your nightly…courtships.”

That last word all, dare you say it, awkward.

Nobody watches you now. That’s nice. It’s nice not being the main entertainment for the group.

“Right,” you say. “Thank you, Lae’zel.”

She nods. Stalks off.

Astarion ain’t out front of his tent no more.

Note: Between 1970 and 1976, the US sterilized Natives (and other minorities) without their full consent or sometimes knowledge. A conservative estimate is that 25% of childbearing Natives were sterilized.

[harley-the-pancake]

Watching some Season 6 for research and. Damg y’all’re right when you say it is weird watching without the voice chats, huh. I was just straight up expecting Iskall reacting to Grian being afk in video.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

fall, with you: part two - corn maze

Joel Miller x gn! reader

main masterlist |mini-series masterlist | prev | next

words: 1.7k

summary: the miller clan learns how to properly do a corn maze

warnings: pre- and post-outbreak, death, cordyceps, loss, grief, outbreak day, fluff weaponized for angst

note: anything in italics is either during or post outbreak. everything else is pre-outbreak. this story is not told chronologically and skips around a lot. i'm experimenting for fun.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You’re filling a backpack when Sarah brings you hers. She’s ready to do her part and help you carry the burden of supplies, piling protein bars, hats, and gloves into her bag. 

You’re filling your bag when Nate brings his. It’s half full already, since he’s got the first aid supplies. Wordlessly, he begins filling it from the rusty shelves, both in silent agreement to take as much of this bounty as you can, despite the added weight. It’s a rare goddamn miracle to find a gas station still half-stocked. 

“I have a flashlight and a headlamp,” she’s telling you very seriously when Joel comes in. 

He stops in his tracks as he takes in the command center that used to be his dining room table. “Sugar, why’re you packin’ all this? Aren’t we gonna be gone for like, an hour?”

You turn and level him with your most unimpressed face. Sarah looks at you and copies it, right down to the single raised eyebrow. 

A can goes flying off the shelf as Nate rushes to stuff his bag, and you turn and level him with your most unimpressed face. He returns it, and it prickles, the strain of the day driving you both to cold looks and harsh words. 

Joel looks between you. “Alright, alright. Forget I asked,” he says, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y’all’re gonna send me to an early grave, I swear.”

“Not anymore you don’t,” you comment. 

“Yeah,” Sarah says with a scowl. “My income’s run dry. “

It’s his turn to look unimpressed. “Yeah, well. You were costin’ me an arm and a leg, baby girl. Couldn’t keep spending half my paycheck on the swear jar.”

“Fucking bastards,” Joel hisses at Tess after the patrol truck leaves. “Goddamn shitsucking dickbags.”  His hand doesn’t flinch for his wallet. Not anymore. 

“Oh, sorry, is your allowance not enough, baby girl?” He drawls, rolling his eyes. “Guess you better get a job. Could always put you to work with me ‘n Uncle Tommy.”

“Okay. Then I can sue for violating child labor laws and live comfortably for the rest of my life on the payout,” she agrees. 

“Did you know there used to be laws against this?” Nate mutters as you shovel ashes side-by-side.

“Shut up ‘n keep your head down,” you hiss, not for the first time. “FEDRA doesn’t care if you’re fifteen.” 

He shoots you a look like this is your fault, and you’ve never been happier to be to blame. You grin and high-five her without breaking eye contact with Joel. 

Twenty minutes later, the four of you are piled into Tommy’s truck. “Why d’y’all have so much stuff?” he’d asked, not seeing the warning look on Joel’s face.

But you and Sarah just smile. “For fun,” you say cheerfully. 

“Feel like y’all have a different idea of fun,” he says with the resignation of a man who’d do anything for his niece, even traipse for hours through endless aisles of corn. 

Which is exactly what you’re going to do.

“Is that a sleeping bag?” Joel asks warily when you hand him his backpack. 

“No. It’s a picnic blanket. For the picnic,” Sarah tells him, rolling her eyes. 

“The what now?” 

You both roll your eyes at the brothers. “The picnic. Did you think the cooler was for beer?”

“I was hopin’,” Tommy mutters.

“Is that a sleeping bag?” Nate asks warily when you hand him his backpack. 

You nod, finger to your lips in the darkened apartment. “It’s now or never. C’mon.” 

“I’ve never been outside the walls,” he says quietly. 

“No shit,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You were literally born here. And you’ve been a pain in my ass for how long now? A decade?”

It’s a familar turn of phrase, one you always thought he knew was a joke, but there’s a flash of something like hurt on the kid’s face that makes you wince. “We’re gonna be fine,” you mutter, trying to ignore the regret, and the memories.

Life sure does fuckin’ find a way. It’s stupidly ironic, how you had never wanted kids of your own, too many years as a teacher turning you too appreciative of a quiet and calm home at the end of the day. Then you’d met Joel, and Sarah had never been a burden. Even when she rode her scooter through the house and screamed over boy bands with her friends. You’d had a kid, kind of, until you didn’t.

And until you did. Despite your callous words, you’d never really regretted bringing him home. 

The pumpkin farm is themed to medieval times this year, straw figures of princesses and knights dotted between the patches and vendor stands. The corn maze is glorious, tall golden stalks rising skyward, full of winding paths that form a giant castle. 

You know that because Joel has already broken a rule. “No maps,” you repeat, snatching the little paper from him and returning it to the girl at the register who had taken your admission fee. 

Two hours into the maze, you turn to find Joel and Tommy muttering, huddled over something. 

“Where did you get that?” you say, snatching the map and tiny pencil they’d been using to track your progress. “This is cheating! Sarah!” 

Sarah runs back to her huddle of adults, having been dutifully scouting ahead. “Dad!” she scolds. “No maps!” 

Tommy sheepishly raises his hand before Joel can smack it down. 

“Someone has to know where we are or we’re never gettin’ outta here. Do you know how many times we’ve gone around the top turret? Six! Six times!” Joel says. “If I leave you two in charge, we’re gonna be here when they mow it down.” 

“Where’d you get a pencil?” you ask Tommy, brandishing it at him accusatorily.

“I went golfin’ this morning,” he says. “It was still in my pocket. Tried to get this old man to go with me, but he still hasn’t forgiven me for last time.”

“You whacked me in the head,” Joel says, exhausted of this conversation.

“You shouldn’t have been that close to me. Get your eyes checked,” Tommy taunts. 

While you’re distracted, Joel plucks the map back from your hands, even as you lunge after it. He catches you around the waist and holds you close. “Let me keep it. For my peace o’ mind,” he murmurs in your ear, arms wrapped around your stomach. “I’ll make it up to ya later.” His cock twitches against your ass and you roll your eyes fondly.

“Fine. But no directing us. Just for your paranoia.” 

“Thanks, sugar,” he says with a kiss to your cheek.

“Ew,” Sarah complains, turning away. 

“Yeah, ew,” Tommy chimes in with a grin. 

The scritch scratch of Joel’s pencil on the map follows you through the stalks, the weak autumn sun bathing the paths in amber. A chilly breeze rustles the dried husks, sending shivers down your spine as you bask in the perfect October Sunday. 

The scritch scratch of Nate’s pencil follows you through the stalks, the heavy moon bathing the field in silver. The cold November wind rustles the creaky dead stalks, allowing you to tiptoe through. When it calms, you both freeze and wait. You’ve heard at least one clicker, and have to use the cover of the corn to mask your movements. 

Sarah comes running back gleefully. “Found one!” she crows victoriously. “C’mon, it’s perfect.” She grabs her dad by the hand and pulls him along as his brows furrow in question. 

It’s answered when she leads you all to a dead end. She’s right, it is perfect. There’s no fallen stalks or stones in the little clearing. The two of you set to work immediately, spreading out the blanket.

“You weren’t kidding,” Tommy mutters to Joel. 

“Nope.”

“C’mon,” you say, patting the blanket where you and Sarah have spread out your feast. You draw two bottles of Modelo from the cooler, necks cold between your fingers, and wiggle them invitingly. They fall for your trap and sit, taking in the spread.

“Y’all went to all this work for this?” Tommy says.

“Yep! We made it all ourselves,” Sarah says. “If you count going to the deli as making it.”

It’s a fine spread, if you say so yourself. Turkey sandwiches, egg salad, green bean casserole. Okay, fine, it’s a “fine” spread in the definition of “acceptable.” It’s the finest the local market had to choose from. But there’s apple pie, and that’s all that really matters.

The wind barely covers the crinkle of wrappers and cans as you share a meager meal with your ward. There’s a twenty-year-old can of green beans and a granola bar to split between you. But it’s food, and that’s all that really matters. 

The thermoses of coffee and hot cocoa are long drained, but you’ve got cider from the farm’s snack counter. As expected, the Millers make quick work of the food, eternally voracious appetites doing all the cleanup work. 

Stomachs full, you ignore the other mazegoers who give you funny looks when they get trapped at your dead end, and contemplate how tiring the rest of the journey sounds now that you’re satiated and sleepy.

Joel wiggles the map at you temptingly. “Sugar, we’ve been out here for three and a half hours. Dontcha feel like we did some proper exploring or whatever? Dontcha have any mercy in ya for my feet?”

“Not really,” you tease. But even Sarah’s worn out now, so you give in. “Fine, quitters. We’ll use the map.”

You cover the flashlight with your fingers, doling out minimal light to squint at the fine lines. “I think we’re almost out of here,” Nate says, tracing the line through the field toward a road. 

“We can probably risk it. It’s dark enough,” you agree. 

“It is getting dark,” Tommy says, wriggling his fingers at Sarah. “Who knows what lurks in the corn at night?”

You do. Right after you decide to head for the road, it finds you. You grab Nate’s shoulder to stop him as you hold your breath, still and silent as the traitorous wind dies abruptly. 

You hold your breath beyond burning, gas masks in hand but it’s too late to put them on. There doesn’t seem to be any spores, but you usually aren’t this careless. It’s why you tried not to be traveling at night, but the raiders had forced your hand when they chased you away from safety. 

The clicker is just feet away, the blossoms of its face pushing stalks aside as it turns its head slowly, tell-tale sound filling the field.

next

i'm not sorry for the golf thing

[wallcreeper-and-oro]

terminal.find(WASP-132d) terminal established connection.find(omni_net) connection established omni.id.vericode(Y/N) (Y) {vericode entered} connection verified - lancer 910372

⋆𖦹 Hello!

Uh hi there! I'm new to all this omni-net thing but Kanmi says i've gotta introduce myself so hello omni-net!

My name is Coryander (or Cory but Thebe's the only one who calls me that)! she/her only please and thank you! oh ya my callsign is Ouroboros (or Oro for short) and I currently pilot a swallowtail chassis named Wallcreeper (like Tichodroma muraria)!! uuh i'm pretty new to this whole piloting thing too, well like piloting a big mech i've "piloted" my old ship a bit.. but anyways Wallcreeper's been a nice experience so far!

Kanmi says to tell you all who we are (whoops) uh i'm a part of a little lancer squad unofficially called Dido's Divers (after our leader, the Dido), it'll mostly be me on this but i might talk about my other crew-members too!

um okay let’s seee we got

myself Coryander! (callsign: Ouroboros) -

I get to pilot Wallcreeper! and now with ATHENA Ambulia!

Thebe! my best friend! (callsign: Neutron) -

Thebe pilots her Togukawa (Hemera), it seems pretty scary to me but she likes the heat of the battle!

Kanmi (who’s here helping me do this, thanks kanmi) (callsign: Rosy)-

Kanmi's our resident Drake pilot, and the talker of the group!

Liza, my mentor (callsign: Sour Patch) -

Liza's a Tortuga pilot, and she's our pilot pilot! she's pretty badass!

Dido, the leader of our little crew (that’s her callsign, i haven’t asked her name and she hasn’t given it soooo Dido it is) -

Dido used to pilot a rather scary Blackbeard! Now she's our official Handler!

uuh Kanmi says i gotta say that both mine and Thebe’s mechs were salvaged legally, they were? i’m not sure why he put that in bold? oh also we’re not affiliated with any manufacturer or any other independent company and we follow the pillars and all that good stuff

uuum i’m not sure what i’m gonna do on here but hi i guess! this is Ouroboros signing out!

OOC: hiiii so um im trying out this whole thing, we’ll see how it goes but ya! meet Coryander (spelled the phoenician way)!! she’s pretty cool i think! a bit green but i think she’s neat! she’s got her nice little crew right now and her best friend and all will be well!!

this is the sideblog of @moons-among-distant-stars, so i’ll follow anyone from there!!

uh if you’ve somehow found me not from that account then hi i’m very new to lancer and even newer to lancer rp (or any online rp for that matter) but i think lancer’s very cool and i really like the story y’all’re telling on here!!

so please enjoy the story of my little transfem pilot and her silly crew!!

[victoria-vd]

OFFSCREEN POST

Laid to Rest

// tw injury, violence, death, Pokémon death, hospital

Part 1: The Calm

Part 2: The Storm

The hospital room was brightly lit, fluorescent lights shining down on the girl in the bed. Bright red swollen bruises covered the half of Esper’s face that had been struck by Barcelona, and it can only be assumed that her torso below the hospital gown was in much of the same state. She let out a quiet sigh as liquid pumped through her IV, glancing off towards the only other sound in the room: the ticking of the clock. How long had Esper been here already? Could only be but a few hours and yet she was still exhausted from the constant poking and prodding of the doctors and nurses.

But now the doctors and nurses were gone and she had been left alone. Waiting.

There was a quiet knock at the door.

Esper startled a bit at the sound, whirling her head around to look towards the sound. The girl stared at the door for a moment before answering, unsure as to who could be knocking, "Oh! Uh– Come in!"

The doorknob turned and the door was pushed open.

Victoria was the first to step forwards through the doorway. She gave Esper a once-over and nodded to her in greeting.

“Hey Esper,” Jaime waved from behind her. “How’s everything…?”

"Oh! Tori, Jaime!" Esper visibly perked up at the sight of Victoria and her brother, giving the two a small wave before shrugging, "I'm... doing okay? Could be worse, y'know?"

Maple poked her head in. "Yay! You're not dying!"

Aspen joined Maple, poking his head in right above her’s, "Yooo, you're alive, let's fuckin' go!"

"Uh. Yeah. Yay." The girl in the bed gave an awkward thumbs up.

“Geez— Y’all’re too tall for this shit. Move over, Paperboy.”

Jaime looked down and shuffled to the side to allow the voice to pass through.

A short girl with red hexagonal glasses and a gray face mask pushed her way to the front. Hands in her pockets, she stepped forwards and looked Esper up and down. “That Hat did a number on ya, huh?”

Esper blinked, tilting her head at the girl before her in slight confusion before simply nodding, "Uh... Yeah. I guess so."

The girl blinked for a moment, sharing Esper’s confusion, before saying. “Oh. Right. It’s Z.” There was an awkward pause as she shifted uncomfortably on her heels. “In the flesh.”

"Oh!" Esper gasped slightly, "Well, nice to meet you in person, Z. Probably would've been preferable under–" she gestured around her, "better circumstances."

Z clicked her tongue. “Yeaaahh… not the most ideal way to meet someone…” She shrugged. “It’s whatever though. Nice to meet— nice to see— fuck.”

"Nice to meet her in person?" Maple offered

“Yeah. That.” She flipped her glasses down, obscuring her face.

"...Epic!" Aspen said, albeit awkwardly as he stepped further into the room, "Um- Nice to meet you in person too, now that I think about it!" He gave her an awkward grin.

"Same with me!” Maple joined in, “Wish our first meeting didn't involve you getting hit with a chair like WWE, but hey, shit happens."

Esper gave a rather awkward smile, "Same..." A moment of silence lingered in the air as she stared at the others before she very quickly turned her attention to Victoria, tilting her head as she asked, "Are you okay though, Tori? Last I saw you had your own fair share of cuts and bruises."

Victoria glanced aside and rubbed the side of her arm. “Ah, well… It is nothing that I am not used to, Esp.”

The other girl just silently frowned at Victoria, opening her mouth to say something before closing as her attention was stolen by something happening outside her room.

Voices could be heard down the hall, calling out for someone to stop. The clacking of heels on the tile floor grew louder with each quick step.

Zoriah’s head whipped to the door. “Wh—“

Suddenly the door was flung wide open.

A tall woman, dressed to the nines in expensive furs and priceless jewelry, burst into the room with outstretched arms. “VICTORIAAAAAAAA,” she sobbed.

The girl in question flinched as the woman rushed to her and smothered her in her arms.

“¡Ay, mi pobrecita de mi corazoncito!” she wailed dotingly. “I came as soon as I heard!”

Victoria’s voice was muffled behind the woman’s embrace, but her embarrassment was clear in her voice nonetheless. “…Hello, Mother.”

Esper watched the scene before her unfold, her mouth slightly agape in surprise.

She let go of her daughter and put her hands on her hips as she tsk’d at Victoria, albeit affectionately, “Arceus mio, mija, at least pretend like you’re happy to see me.”

She turned to the others in the room, sizing them all up one by one. Though the pearly-white grin never left her face, there was something cold and calculating that seeped into her gaze as she eyed them all up and down.

And then her eyes landed on Esper, lingering there for a second longer than the rest.

“Oh,” Victoria’s mother smiled warmly at the girl. “You must be Victoria’s little friend.” The woman approached Esper, highlighting her massive height with every step. “Este— Esper Hargrove, yes?”

The girl in question had to crane her neck upwards as she attempted to keep her eyes on the taller woman's face as she was spoken too. "Uh, yes ma'am." Esper gave a small nod in response, "That'd be me."

The woman’s perfect grin widened. She bent down to be eye level with the girl and seized her hands into her own. “Oh, I’ve heard so much about you, Esper! I hope my little Victoria has been teaching you well!” Her strikingly bright lavender eyes bore into Esper’s. “Tell me Hargrove, what is my name?”

"Uh..." Esper briefly blinked in confusion before furrowing her brows as if she were attempting to concentrate on something. After a moment or so, she answered, "Reina Velasco-Delgado, correct?"

Reina Velasco-Delgado nodded, eyes lit up with pride. She clasped her hands together and hummed with satisfaction. “Victoria’s a wonderful teacher, isn’t she? She learned from the best, after all!”

Maple fiddles with her fingers awkwardly. "You know, there's other people in the room. We are here, by the way. Just in case you forgot."

Aspen opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, before opening it again. "Yeah, no, um-" He promptly closed his mouth again, deciding he'd be better off if he didn't say anything just then.

“Oh, no dear,” Victoria’s mother stood back to full height, towering over everyone else in the room once again. Her massive hat seemed to blot out the fluorescent light of the hospital room, casting a shadow over the others. Curiously, though her smile stayed wide as ever, the corners of her lips no longer reached her eyes as they once had before. “I haven’t forgotten you, Maple.” With a tilt of her head, she added, “How is your mother, by the way? I’m sure you miss her dearly.”

Maple looked away and didn't answer.

Reina pursed her lip into a sad frown. “Oh, pobrecita. I’ll be happy to tell her I saw you. When was the last time you spoke with your fathers? I heard Venus was stationed in Area Zero. He must be a busy man.”

"He is busy, yeah. I got to hang out with him a few weeks ago though"

“That’s good to hear,” she hummed. Bending down to meet Maple face-to-face, she asked. “Is there anything you’d like me to relay to Ivelyne for you, Maple?”

Maple turned to look Reina in the eyes wearily. "She prefers to be called Ivy."

“Duly noted.” She stood back to full height and looked down at Maple. “Then you have nothing to say to your mother?”

"You already know everything I want to say."

“Pick one.”

Aspen paused, looking between Maple and Reina, beginning to feel like he'd rather not be here anymore, but at the same time, he felt as though he needed to change the subject. He stepped to the side, closer to Jaime.

"Um- well, anyway, um-" He paused, wanting to distract her from Maple, "You haven't met me yet, my name is-"

“Aspen Sharma,” she cut him off without turning to face him. “I know who you are. You went Cyclizar riding with my son on the day of his birthday party.”

She glanced down at him out of the corner of her eye, giving him a once-over. “I take it the two of you had fun? He lost track of time and showed up late to his own birthday, you know.”

Jaime bit his cheek and didn’t say a word.

Aspen chewed on his lip slightly, suddenly feeling the weight of Reina's side eye. "Um- yeah, we did have fun, we didn't mean to lose track of time like that," he said quietly.

“Hm…” The woman studied him, stalking over to circle the boy like a hungry vulture. “Well, I’m glad the two of you enjoyed yourselves.” Eyeing him like a hawk, she hummed and said, “He quite likes you, you know. Though I’m sure you’re aware of that by now.”

He swallowed, looking away from her gaze; he felt as though he was some type of prey Pokémon, about to be ambushed. "I- I am, yeah," he said, forcing himself to look up at her, if only for a moment.

She stopped in front of Aspen and locked eyes with him. Her towering figure and wide hat cast a shadow over him and shrouded her entire face in darkness, and yet the white of her pupils glowed nonetheless.

It had become increasingly clear where Victoria picked up her intimidating mannerisms from.

Aspen took in a sharp breath, glancing up at her, before looking up properly. His gaze was unsure, hesitant, even, but he looked up at her nonetheless. He'd faced down worse, he thought.

Reina silently stared him down for a few more seconds, glowing eyes boring into his own as she raised an eyebrow at him.

After an eternity, she suddenly turned away and simply said, “Don’t disappoint me, Sharma.”

For the first time since she walked in, Jaime looked up at his mother.

Aspen brows furrowed slightly, but he nodded towards Reina. Despite being unsure of what exactly it was he was agreeing to, he had a feeling he already knew what she meant. "I... I won't.

“We’ll see.” She stepped away to the boy next to him.

Reina stared down at her son. “Mijo.”

Jaime stared back. “Madre.”

The two silently stared one another down.

And then Reina’s gaze turned to the proverbial fly on the wall. Her eyes shone with interest. “Oh. It’s you.”

Zoriah’s heart sank as a shadow was cast over her. She didn’t dare to look up.

“I’ve heard much about you.” She grinned down at the girl. “Eh— Z, correct?”

She flinched at the sound of her name falling from Reina’s tongue.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked,” she chuckled. “You knew long before we met, after all.”

Z’s fists clenched at her sides, resisting the urge to look the Devil in the eyes.

Reina bent down, resting her hands on her knees to meet Z in the eye. “Let me ask you a personal question.”

She felt trapped under her gaze. There was nowhere to look but back at her.

“Why the Truman Show?” Reina smiled with a tilt of her head. “You seem like more of a kaiju movie fan to me.”

“I— I’m— I don’t—“

“Madre.” Jaime warned, narrowing his eyes at his mother.

His mother stood up straight and narrowed her eyes right back. “Watch your tone, mijo.”

Esper quietly fiddled with her blanket, rubbing the fabric between her fingers in a soothing motion as she watched the interactions before her.

The sound caught Reina’s attention. She turned to Esper with a warm smile. “Oh! In all the excitement, I’d completely forgotten to ask how you were feeling.”

The young girl seemingly startled at suddenly being addressed. “Oh— Uh— I’m fine!” She answered with a small wave of her hand, “Could be better but could definitely be worse. Just going to be a bit sore and hurting for the next while, nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

The woman frowned at her and clicked her tongue. "Esper, you do not have to downplay your injuries. My Hatterene hit you full force with a steel chair, love."

Esper simply shrugged, a seemingly apologetic smile on her face, "I'll heal."

She chuckled. "That you will, my dear." Placing a hand on her shoulder, Reina sighed and added, "But you very well could have died because of Barcelona's recklessness, and for that, I must deeply apologize on her behalf."

Victoria squinted and tilted her head at her mother. Apologize...? What was…

"Ah–" Esper glanced at the hand on her shoulder with a look of disdain before she quickly corrected herself and shot Reina an awkward smile, "Really, there's no need to apologize. Things happen."

"Things do indeed happen," Reina nodded with a smile. "What's done is done, Esper. All that matters now is that we move forward and take steps to ensure this does not happen again. And I can assure you that I will not allow this to happen again."

The girl raised a brow in response, "Well, yeah, I assumed you wouldn't want it to happen again after all."

Reina smiled sweetly at her. “You assume correctly." She brought a Luxury Ball out from inside her fur coat. Barcelona's Pokeball.

Jaime drew in a sharp breath. What was she—

Maintaining eye contact with Esper, she patted her on the shoulder and said, "Watch."

She then drew in a slow breath….

…and crushed the Luxury Ball into pieces in her fist…

She clenched tightly onto the shattered shards of the ball in her hands, grinding them into dust. When she was finished, she opened her palm to reveal that Barcelona’s ball was nothing more than a fine sparkly powder. With a smile, she let out a puff of air into her palm, blowing the dust into the air until there was no hint of Barcelona or the ball that housed her.

Maple stared, slack jawed. That seemed... a bit excessive.

Esper clasped her hands over her mouth with a gasp, her eyes wide like a Deerling in the headlights about to be struck by an oncoming vehicle.

Jaime felt a shudder down his spine. Barcelona was her own Pokemon…

Victoria remained stone-faced as what remained of Barcelona was scattered to the winds, shimmering in the fluorescent hospital lights. Her jaw tightened when a few bits of the powder landed on her blazer.

Aspen swallowed hard, his lips pursed and his eyes locked on the glittery dust on the ground. He could feel his hands shake at the sight of it, and he clenched them into fists to get them to stop.

Hidden behind the oversized glasses and face mask, it was difficult to visually tell what Zoriah was feeling. But the fear in her wavering breath betrayed her attempt to remain apathetic and calm.

The towering Velasco woman dusted her hands off with a smile. “There. Now Barcelona will never hurt anyone ever again!"

Esper was too stunned to respond, her hands staying firmly over her mouth as she glanced from Reina to Victoria to Jaime and then back to Reina.

Reina then drew in a sharp breath and lifted her chin, not bothering to turn to Jaime as she said, “Mijo, make yourself useful: escort your friends out of the room and fetch your father for me, por favor. I’d like to speak to Victoria and Esper in private for a moment.”

“But—“

She glared at him from over her shoulder. “Mijo.”

The boy wordlessly clenched his jaw for a moment and drew his lips into a line. He turned his head to look away from his mother, furrowing his brows as he led Aspen, Maple, and Z out of the room.

The door shut behind him, leaving only Esper, Victoria, and her mother in the hospital room, with only the sound of the heart monitor to break the tense silence that hung over them.

———

[Jaime and Z belong to @jaimemes, Esper belongs to @espers-n-espurrs, Aspen belongs to @aspens-dragons, Maple belongs to @yveltalreal]

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers Lost Eden Drama CD Translation ☽ Vol. 4 Mukami Saga ☽ Track 4・The Flaw Called 'Prejudice'

Original title of this track: 思い込みという弱点 Voiced by Sakurai Takahiro (Ruki), Suzuki Tatsuhisa (Yuma), Kishio Daisuke (Azusa), Kimura Ryōhei (Kou) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (as always, BIG thank you to @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

TRACK 1 ・TRACK 2 ・TRACK 3・TRACK 4・TRACK 5・AFTER STORY

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This is the fourth volume of the Lost Eden drama CDs! I'll make separate posts for each track and update the links above as I go. This is the fourth track of this CD. The next one has a little more spice for my fellow Ruki and Yuma enthusiasts ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) Happy listening and reading along!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[The scene starts at the Mukami dining table.]

00:00 Yuma: But really. Azusa always takes the good stuff right from under your nose, huh? He fuckin’ outsmarted us…

Kou (with food in his mouth): I know, right? Kitten was gone before I knew it—it’s our fault for not paying attention, though.

Ruki: Hey. Don’t talk while you’re eating.

Kou: Okay…

[You silently stare at your plate of food.]

Ruki: What’s wrong, Livestock? Have you had enough to eat?

[You don’t respond.]

Ruki: You’ve lost your appetite, haven’t you? Well, I suppose that’s only reasonable, given what you’ve been through.

Azusa: You’re not eating much, either… Ruki.

Ruki: Hm. I’m not very hungry, either.

[Meanwhile, Yuma is happily scarfing down the food.]

Yuma (with food in his mouth): Y’all’re almost makin’ me look bad for havin’ a healthy appetite. 

Kou (with food in his mouth): You can’t really fight when you’re hungry.

Ruki: It’s alright. 

[You want to talk to Ruki, but...]

Ruki: Wait. Let’s take the time to talk later, so you can tell us about all that happened before you came here. It’s not something we should discuss during dinner, is it?

[You agree.]

Ruki: Good. Eat a little more, then. If you want, I can cook you something else that’ll boost your digestion.

[You tell him you’ll just eat a few more bites.]

Ruki: I see. Then I will do the same.

[You eat together for a little while longer. After dinner, you tell the Mukami brothers everything you know—most importantly, about Karl Heinz’ alleged illegitimate child.]

01:52 Ruki: Oh…

Yuma: Karl Heinz’s got an illegitimate child? No way.

Kou: Is there some kind of proof?

Azusa: Then, it might actually be false…

Ruki: It might. We should take this with a grain of salt.

Yuma: The Demon World’s in chaos. Those Ghouls, the other four Species…

Azusa: Everyone’s fighting… to rule the Demon World…

Kou: That’s because a certain someone (1) is not doing a proper job of governing it in the first place.

Ruki: That certainly plays a big part in it, but even if he had welcomed his powers and faced his responsibilities head-on, he could not have prevented this chaos.

Kou: That’s true, but…

Ruki: We should not expect anything from him. Especially not now.

Yuma: What’re we gonna do, though? If we let those rioting idiots march on Eden, aren’t we the ones avoidin’ responsibility because we didn’t protect our home?

Azusa: Do we… even have the strength to do that…?

Ruki: With that attitude, no.

Yuma: Ruki…!

Ruki: We’re no purebloods, but Lord Karl Heinz gave us this life. We are His sons.   We have no reason to be afraid just because some lowlife is claiming to be Karl Heinz’ son, don’t you think? Besides, why do you assume our powers are inferior? We were, without a doubt, given life by the grace of Karl Heinz’ power. We are simply prejudiced because we cannot become Adam. Because we used to be human. If the four of us join forces as brothers, we can protect Eden. If you all want to protect this place, that is.

04:12 Yuma: ‘Course we do. D’ya really think we’re that heartless? Right, y’all?

Kou: Of course!

Azusa: I want to… protect Eden, too…

Kou: We really convinced ourselves that we won’t stand a chance… that we can’t do it just because we used to be human. 

Yuma: We did.

Azusa: We won’t know… until we try.

Ruki: Exactly, that’s it. You cannot know anything unless you try.

[You start fidgeting.]

Kou: What do you think, Kitten? Are we doomed?

[You half-heartedly tell him that you don’t think that at all.]

Kou: Thank you, but could’ve said so with a less anxious look on your face.

Yuma: You do think we’re doomed, don’t ya?

[You answer honestly this time.]

Ruki: You’re afraid of us getting hurt… Heh. That sounds like something you would say. I’m grateful that you think so, though. Unfortunately, the situation is so dire that we cannot avoid making sacrifices. I’m fully prepared to make sacrifices. You all understand this, right?

05:37 Azusa: I understand.

Kou: Yeah.

Yuma: Yep.

[You agree, too.]

Yuma: Heh. Aren’t you perceptive today? I thought you’d straight up try ‘n talk us out of it.

[You tell Yuma that you feel for them.]

Azusa: You understand how we feel…?

[You tell them you know what it’s like to lose your home.]

Kou: Ah. That’s true… Kitten doesn’t have a place to call home anymore either, after all.

Yuma: Then why don’tcha call this place your home? We didn’t have anythin’ before we came here either. This is our home now.

Azusa: Yes, Eve… I think it’s a good idea. I would be happy… if you protected Eden with us.

[You vow to help them.]

Ruki: Then it’s settled.

[The scene shifts to Ruki’s inner monologue.] 

07:03 Ruki: And just like that, we vowed to work together to protect Eden as best we could. It is a fundamental instinct—a desire, even—of all living creatures to wish to be close to something. That’s why it’s no pity to make sacrifices to protect what we love. We will protect Eden, and we will protect Eve.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Meaning Shuu, the rightful heir to Karl Heinz’ powers.

[sleepyspots-wc-designs]

Sorry about the sudden falling off of art, y’all… My health has taken a steep decline due to stress over school, alongside new health discoveries, and. Well. The stress associated with losing my insurance on my birthday lol.

I’m still around! I’ve just been writing more than drawing, as that’s less painful and less stressful for me right now. I’d still like to be active here, so if y’all’re willing to send me an ask with a couple of characters plus a prompt, I’d like to maybe put out little short stories for a while until I recover enough from Stress and Life to feel okay with picking up my sketchbook again haha

Thank y’all for understanding!! And hopefully my writing will be as well-received as my art ^^

[da-young-bizzyboy]

"So...anythin' new here? I wasn't here fo' a lon' time, heh"

"Well, dere is, but I should show yew someting fiwst before showing odew things to yew"

"Whatcha got there?"

"Da photos of da bizzyboys. Evewyone awe on da mission and I need just to tell yew who is who"

"He heh. No need o' that, kid. I already know who y’all’re"

"But dere also da new bizzyboys dat yew totally don know"

"Oh well, I think I shoulda know them"

"Of couwse!"

"Hewe. I found deir photos in da attic dere. Dats probably an old ones"

"Nah, s'okay, continue"

"Oh well, so dewes @da-devilish-devilboys , @lolidabizzyboy , @2keysmashbizzy , @z-the-bizzyboy (but I didn see dem lately), @dadocisin and also @figmoomoo-da-bizzy . Oh, and @cledachefbizzy and @thabizziestbee "

"Woah, I don't even know how’d’ya learned their names"

"Dats an easy as a pie"

"Heh, ya right, Mimin"

"Hey, Miss Kai, I'm actually cuwious about someting. Do yew have any photos?"

"Well, lemme tell you. I've got lots of ma ol' photos from da past. And– Oh, this one, it's..."

"Is...umm..."

*in mind: Damn, ain't I was da hot one in ma 17 y.o...ain't that a reason why those girls cutted ma tail*

"Miss Kai, awe yew owkay?"

"Oh well...."

"Nah, 'm fine. That photo was jus' no' good enough to show"

"Oh, alwight, miss Kai"

*sigh* "Jus' Kai, kiddo"

[Hope that you're happy to meet Kai:3]

[spocksgotemotions]

a unique (??) experience in childcare is that sometimes my shoe will become untied and I will not have the time/ability to retie it and that is one thing that might not be unique to childcare but what IS is that then my babies will be like “your shoe! Your shoe! Your shoe untied!” And I’ll be like “yeah! Cause y’all’re too crazy and I can’t fix it right now!” And then they’ll be like “oh.” And continue being bonkers babies and then five minutes later they do the WHOLE thing again

[cb-writes-stuff]

Okay. So. Y’all’re going to get kinda barebones bios. It easily gets to be too much, and I stop wanting to do it. So, you’re going to get:

Full name

Species

Age

Height

General weight

Description of appearance

Occupation

And then a section of their thoughts on the other characters, either their opinions (for who they already knew) and first impressions (for characters they meet later). I’ll have to do the sketches another time, because I can’t work up the motivation right now.

Then I think I will do an “ask the characters” thing, maybe, if there’s anything y’all still want to know after that. If y’all would be interested in that.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 12 - Emotional Damage

You make an observation.

On AO3.

Y’all walk. Everything is dim and gloom. Things move outta the corner of your eye and whispers skirt along the edges of your hearing.

Shadowheart seems to still be immune. Her eyes is fever bright.

The fuck does it mean to be in a cult in a place with literal, physical gods.

Fuck.

After an hour or two, Astarion comes drifting back down the line. Dread curls tight in you.

But y’all’re dating. Right? That means communicating. That’s what everybody says. That’s what most of your therapists talked (at) to you about. You just ain’t, like, listened very well.

You take a breath. This is about more than just you. This is about someone other than you, too. So you turn to him. “Good mor—”

“I wanted—” Astarion says at the same time.

The both of you shut up. Then do a little verbal dance, like trying to out polite somebody through the door in front of you.

You win.

“I wanted to apologize,” Astarion says first. There’s a hint of his usual lilting smarm, but it’s too clipped around the edges to be entirely smooth. “For last night. I’m usually, ah, better up to the challenge.”

Oh. When he, well. But you read that plenty of guys do that. Girls, too (you came on his hand in maybe a couple minutes last night, which might be a personal record). You were both going at it, so you don’t really see any reason for him to be so stiff about it. But he’s striding around like some Victorian butler, back yardstick straight, chin perfectly level to the ground (you read British royals train themselves to walk like that).

This man is usually all twirling hands and shoulder shimmies.

You debate it. Decide to take your chances. Lift your hand and flick the shoulder of his armor.

“It’s all good,” you say, when he glances (sharply) to you. “I liked. Um. Being with you.”

“How encouraging,” he says.

The rest of the group is mostly in front of y’all, with Karlach taking up the rear. You hope like hell they mind their own damn business, since half of them got pointy ears and you assume that means they all got super hearing. Fucking close ass quarters.

“How’re you doing?” you say. It’s usually the next step in small talk.

Astarion smiles. There’s something off about it. It’s a little too…perfect. Composed, even.

Fake.

“I’m quite well, all things considered. Rather eager to show you a full sampling of my portfolio, once we get the chance.”

Is he just nervous? Ashamed, maybe? There’s a whole parody song about coming in your pants. He might be worried he, what, disappointed you?

(It did the opposite. It…kinda went to your head in the moment, before he ran off. What an interesting thing to learn about yourself, his soft grunts filling your memory as he clutched at you and the glimpse of his face drawn tight—).

You shake your head. You’re having a conversation, goddamnit, not daydreaming about how he sounds mid-orgasm.

Although you could hear it again. Tonight, even, he seems to be offering. Twenty-five years, give or take, since puberty and you didn’t care much about all that. Felt horny, sometimes, but not really connected to any person (you did have your collection of toys, though, cause you’re a curious kind). Now this man got to you and woke up something in you and your body perks up at the slightest hint of him like a starved dog.

Still.

There’s a weird remoteness to him. And you don’t wanna push things too fast. Right?

“I’m getting kinda rusty on the Chondathan, actually,” you say.

“What?” Comes out flatter than fucking Kansas. The man nearly stops dead.

Ah fuck, you fucked it. Ryan fucking Meadows ghosted you for being frigid and weird and you’re difficult and isolated and, and…

“Chondathan? That you was teaching me?” Because by god, this was the road you turned down and you can’t pull a u-turn now. You just gotta plow further on. “We haven’t used that. Since the Underdark. And I think I’m forgetting it. But it was fun. And seemed important?”

The way he rolled the r’s back at you. The way the words twisted in his smooth voice. The only thing human (kinda) down there. The only other living (mostly) thing that spoke. The tether that meant you wasn’t alone.

“I,” Astarion says. Blinks. Then that weird smile slips back on. “If you like. I do have a few books we’ve picked up along the way.”

And you cannot, can not stop the high sound you make. A month or more. Fucking weeks of sitting around at night, waiting to fall asleep. Sore. Aching. Too tired. Fucking bored.

“Holy fuck, I miss books so bad. Brainworms and monsters and murder and all that shit, I could deal with so much better if I could fucking read.”

Astarion’s lips purse, and he taps his chin with one finger. “Yes, you did mention a ridiculous public library.”

Gale makes a sudden movement ahead.

You kinda doubt he’s got any kids books, though. Nothing you could sound out, let alone comprehend on the little you’ve grasped so far (yet).

“What’re your books about?” You hope to hell they ain’t all religious texts or old essays collections of Old Man Philosopher Yells at Clouds. Historically on Earth, those were the only things valuable enough for people to want to preserve, all copying by hand. Unless they got printing presses here. In which case, could they have novels?

Astarion leans in close (it’s goddamn ridiculous how distracting he smells) and says, “I honestly haven’t a clue. I snatch them up to sort out later.”

Practical, if heavy. Well, maybe not for the average person. Who didn’t grow up in a fuck ass cult out in the sticks that treated anything not the Bible or the printed pamphlets of the Pastor as contraband (you’d been so nervous the first time you ever stepped into the city library) (the lord was gonna strike you dead) (the devil was gonna enter your soul and possess you) (holy shit there was so many and you wanted all of them).

“We can do a book haul,” you say. Which you then have to explain, and this time Gale just stops to let y’all catch up so he can listen in, not even bothering to hide it).

The road curves down and ends in a fuck off giant of a dead tree, fallen on its side over a crevasse. What looks a lot like wagon ruts carve up along that dead trunk.

You’re careful to follow in the exact footsteps of Wyll out front, and absolutely not look anywhere but your next step and the bank beyond. And not visualize your foot slipping, ankle folding, the tumble into the long dark below.

“Would you,” you start, mostly so you can distract yourself. Only to realize how presumptuous you’re being. But Astarion lifts an eyebrow, cause you started a question and need to finish it. “I mean. I don’t wanna be rude. Or demanding or nothing. But um. Would you mind? Reading to me? You can say no.”

“Doing alright back there?” Wyll says, once y’all are across.

You lift a thumb. Which you also then have to explain. Some gestures are the same here, but that one ain’t. Weird.

Astarion watches you, head cocked. Something strains around his eyes. Disappears the second you return your attention to him.

“Of course, my dear. It just seems a waste when we could be enjoying our time with other means.”

His hand in your pants. Maybe even your hand in his pants.

Your body flushes hot and tingling. Greedy. But also, y’know, fucking books.

Gale makes an odd sound and falls back further to join Karlach. You can feel her grin on the back of your head.

“I. I do, um. Like that,” you say. A lot. You’d probably ruin your panties here in a minute or two as your body starts to holler about it. “But, I dunno. That’d get boring if that’s all we do, huh?”

Astarion’s face changes. Or the angle does, or the torchlight hits it odd and you been spending too much time staring at him. Like repeating a word too many times, until it don’t sound real. A twitch, a flicker of something, and he looks like a different person.

His eyes. They’re…round. Ain’t never seen them that young. It makes him look…younger. Softer, maybe. Only for a second. Just enough to clock it. Then he twists himself back to smarm. Lifts a hand and presses it to his chest all offended southern belle, and gives a tiny gasp.

“Boring? Oh darling, have I left you so unsatisfied? Perish the thought. Only, you sounded quite pleased when I joined you last night.”

Said loud enough for everybody to hear. Do not glance back, Shadowheart. Don’t she fucking dare. She fucking offered you birth control, she knows what y’all’re about.

“Oh, what an interesting stone formation over there,” Gale says behind y’all.

You want to swat Astarion’s arm. You want to swat him so bad.

And the reply comes to you. Perfect. Sharp. A glance to his crotch and a crook of your eyebrow and you could say “really” all flat and he would know exactly what you was talking about.

But he ran off last night. Fucking apologized to you about it, and this seems…this is covering. All of it. It washes over you all cold and syrupy. His approach, what he’s said, his offer. He’s…worried. What, that you don’t like him no more? That you don’t want him no more?

That perfection in your mind would hurt him. Maybe more than you even know. You can see that clear as day, and the thought makes your heart ache (jesus fuck, you’re in so fucking deep).

You ain’t gonna do that to him. And fuck everybody else being nosy or judgy to you. You gagged down enough shame on the farmstead for years. You ain’t gonna choke down one drop more. Especially not here. Like this.

You lift your chin. Meet his gaze. “My people got a saying about too much of a good thing turning it sour. If all y’all eat is chocolate, you get sick. So yeah, I did like it. And if you don’t mind, darlin, I’d like you to read to me tonight. You, you got a nice voice.”

Probably didn’t need the last part, judging from Karlach’s tiny squeal and Shadowheart’s face pinching so hard you can see it in fucking profile. But it happened, and it seems to have whammied your target. Man actually takes a step back before he catches himself. And there’s them wide eyes again. Like…like you. In them early days. When Sasha or one of the group home neighbors baked some cookies and brought them to you, and you wasn’t used to getting anything but basic rations and a new dress when yours got too roughed up to patch, because asking for more was a sin. Decadence opens the door to the devil.

To this man, one compliment is a whole tray of cookies. A gift he wasn’t expecting. Something that didn’t even occur to him.

Your heart hurts again.

“I, of course,” he says, all quiet.

Up ahead, Wyll calls out. “I see light ahead!”