#I had to translate this myself so I apologize if it sounds weird

[mydaylight]

If you listened, and in the overflow of pain, the giving in to wanton drunkness, the tears, oh would deny all to me if you saw them and still you say you have loved me

Maria Polydouri - Who knows...

[nightwngz]

Older bat! Damian with super or wonder reader who's like sheltered and oblivious to the real world and they go on a mission or smith together and the whole times she's just doing whatever he says because that's what she's used to and he's just like damnn and finds that really attractive

— 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ! ☆

older!damian wayne x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… drabble smut. porn with a plot. dirty talk. fingering. Damian uses Arabic nicknames.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I don't know how I feel about myself today, but I decided to write this for you anyway. I hope you like it. <3

It was one of the first times you, a young girl exiled from the real world and born on an island paradise inhabited only by women, had contact with what was considered 'the real world.' You were not yet accustomed to many things, especially the existence of men, or perhaps men like Damian Wayne.

On Themyscira, you were used to following orders. When the Queen or your trainer told you to "do this," you knew exactly what to do. But when you joined the Justice League and met Batman, you initially believed you were supposed to act the same way. You soon realized that maybe you should have listened when Jon told you to ignore him completely.

At that moment, Damian Wayne, now known as Batman, was the last person you wanted to be trapped with in a situation like this. The two of you were locked in a reinforced room with no way out, where neither your strength nor your wits could help you get out. So you found yourself trapped with the one man who liked to bark orders like he was the king of Gotham.

— You really don't know what to do? — He asked, annoying you again. — Before, Wonder Women were effective.

However, you tried to heed Jon's advice; thus, you responded to him without intending to participate in his game.

— Yes, and in my land, men didn't even exist. So I'm just getting used to working with the inefficiency of one.

Damian slowly approached the box you were sitting in with an annoying grin on his face.

— In fact, I am a detective. Of course I know how to get out of here.

Your confused expression made him smile even harder at your confusion. You weren't sure if it was fair to feel like a complete idiot, but that was exactly how you felt at that moment. Besides, you didn't like him at all.

— And you never thought to open the door, or are you just trying to annoy me by making me live with you?

— Actually... — He replied, moving even closer to you. — I'm testing you. Go and open the door as best you can — He finally ordered.

And as if it were a sacred word, you stood up, determined to open the door to the room at any cost. At first, you tried to break it down with blows, but your strength wasn't enough. It was probably made of some incredibly strong material, possibly of alien origin.

— Try pulling the doorknob with your lasso — he suggested, and once again, you listened.

Damian couldn't help but find the way you obeyed like a trained dog incredibly attractive. Deep down, he felt that he had you at his mercy and that no matter what he asked you to do, you would listen.

Totally exhausted from the effort, you knelt on the ground, but you didn't give up. Feeling sorry for you, he reached over to stroke your hair, trying to calm you down.

— Pretty obedient little thing. — He flattered, lifting your chin so you could look him in the eye. — You don't know how to say no, do you?

A wave of intense heat enveloped you. Perhaps it was the first time you had ever found yourself in an intimate situation with someone, as you had always believed that your body was trained solely for an impending war. Yet, when Damian was around, that was the one purpose of your training you occasionally forgot.

— If I asked you to take off your underwear, would you be so obedient, habibati?

Your cheeks reddened immediately. You knew you should avoid this kind of situation, but having been trained on the island, you understood that you had to follow the orders of a superior. Batman was more experienced than you, making him your superior, and you felt obligated to obey him.

Immediately your panties fell down under the metal skirt of your suit, exposing your pussy to the man in the room.

From what you knew about men, you noticed they often looked for specific qualities in women. However, Damian had never shown any boldness towards you. As time passed, the 'sexual tension' that Jon had mentioned began to feel more like an annoyance.

When he saw that you were listening to him, he smiled as usual. But his smile was not one of despair; it was one of desire.

He knelt down to be at the same height as you. Gently, he slid a finger down your soaked pussy while keeping his eyes on yours, watching for any reaction on your face.

You understood what he was doing and how he was touching every part of the anatomy between your legs with precision. What you didn't understand was how he was so skilled at it.

You couldn't hold back your moans as you felt him gently pinch your now throbbing clit. His touch drove you crazy as you felt waves of pleasure crash against you.

— Damn, what a good girl. Sorry to tell you, Habibati... I have a weakness for obedient women.

[lilacargent]

Soooo first post ever and it is because i have gone down the #humansarespaceorcs rabbit hole, and my train of thought was:

Yes humans are weird and do strange things to survive. But more specifically we do weird things to our surroundings to survive, many different things.

What if, it has been a decade or two since the humans joined what ever coalition or council of aliens that work together and as a species they are mostly well known for their ability to grow crops under the worst circumstances (soil, climate anything) ofcourse the other deathworld apex predator human traits make the rounds but over time they seem to assume we cannot surprise them anymore.

Everyone knows that if a planet is ‘owned’ by a certain species they have to pay tax to the coalition, so planets that aren’t particularly useful are undesirable.

This particular planet p-jx-5£2 has been moved around endlessly, given with trade deals to get rid of it. P-jx-5£2 is 97% water, with a very high salt level so inhabitable for all developed aliens. Even though the atmosphere is a nice oxygen base and the gravitational pull allright most for the coalition members the fast spinning moon and the planets quick pace around its sun make the water move and tides switch every 2.5 hours keeping no land dry outside of low tide.

~~~~~~~~

The tall Avian alian il’trexz was elated this day was going to be great, a trade deal with the hardy humans and getting rid of a useless money drain, they didn’t have a clue what they were signing up for!

Turning towards the much smaller bipedal species standing in front of the window looking down on the blue planet that just came into their possession the strange creature mumbled something to them selves, frowning Il’trezx asks ‘im sorry what did you say, you spoke but the translator didn’t pick it up?’ The human (Steve) turned to him away from the window ‘my apologies, i was talking to myself, i said that we had to send the dutch.’ Il’trezx looked befuddled ‘the dutch? Is that some kind of animal?’

Steve threw his head back and made a series of sounds that ruffled the Avians feathers and had he not known it was a laugh it would have made him run for the hills ‘HA I’m going to tell Andreas you said that, no the Dutch is what call people from a country on earth that specialise in these kinds of climates, they’ve been begging for a challenge since they stopped the flooding on the umavi home world.’ With feathers puffed up Il’trezx wonders ‘and they are going to do what? This is an impossible planet’ immediately clasping his beak he looks a the human to see if he seemed angry at being swindled, but to his surprise Steve just looks at him ‘hm so you believe we can’t use this planet. Allright let’s make a bet.’ Interested Il’trezx leans in closer ‘what kind of bet?’ A predatory grin spreads on the bipedal aliens face ‘if we make less of this planet than the amount of tax we have to pay over it we will cover all trade costs for this quarter, insurance, travel all of it.’ Eagerly Il’trezx starts nodding ‘but’ Steve keeps going ‘if we do make more of this planet you will do the same.’

The bet is put onto paper and the higher ups of both parties also agree. In 5 years the Avians would be back and they would balance the costs to the benefits. When they departed Il’trezx says too Steve ‘you must have a lot of faith in these “dutch” ‘ the man grins teeth bared ‘ofcourse, after all they conquered water before’

The five years pass and stories have been going around of a new energy supplier from the humans, producing enough energy to run 78% of their ships and several facilities. Nobody seems to know where it is coming from but no new pollution is measured in any of these facilities. None of this bothers the Avians, after all humans come up with new things all the time.

The five years are up and Il’trezx is invited to the planet with a group of advisors and other officials, the planet which apparently they have renamed to ‘posy’ which is supposed to be short for some kind of sea god from their olden days.

On arrival the amount of coming and going baffles them massive groups of ships docking or docked and all somehow attached to wires that run into machines.

The planets change alone was awe inspiring, two cities on opposite sides of the planet and what seems like millions of weird blades attached to high poles every where. Strange wheels and long walls between towers rising from the rapidly moving waters.

This… this was their new energy source. They somehow made a battery of this uninhabitable planet and then built a home.

On the meeting place Steve is waiting with a man slightly taller than him. Spreading his arms the smaller human says ‘welcome to Poseidon, this is Andreas our main mechanic here. He has been here with planning since orbit 1.’

After the introductions were done Andreas led the group through what they called the Northern city and showed on his device the steps it took to get a foothold and how they proceeded from there, mentioning that many of these steps his home country had used thousands of year ago to gain land from sea, and energy from the movement of water and air. They specialised in this form of terra forming and it showed.

The Avians were astounded, not having realised that there was more than one kind of way the Humans had battled their environment even beating back the waters of their world.

Without a doubt the humans had won the bet and had another legend added to their name. More and more humans showed that with the right motivation they could settle right about anywhere.

********

So yea… my stupid little idea. Hopefully someone will enjoy it. I just liked the idea of specific cultures and stuff. specialising in certain things.

Edit: im amazed people seem to like it! If people have ideas or other cultures they think would baffle aliens, im certainly willing to try and write something

[astralhope]

This is a little project that I worked on in the last weeks, and I finally finished it.

The Japanese dub is my favorite, but the Italian one was the one that made me discover Zexal, and I used to watch the show in Italian until the third arc.

I watched the episodes from the first two arcs in this dub many times and I'm still very attached to most of the characters' Italian voices.

This dub is very dear and nostalgic to me, so I wanted to share some Astral's clips from it on my blog.

But I didn't want to put a bunch of Italian clips here without any kind of subtitles, so I decided to do the subtitles myself. But what should have been just a few clips became all Astral's scenes in the first two episodes, and it took me more time than I anticipated.

Just a few things before you watch the video:

- I tried to do this translation more literally possible (so I apologize if some lines sound weird), but with some phrases and expressions I had to translate them in a not literal way to keep their meaning.

- The edit of the video is a little rough because I favored the audio over the video and I tried not to cut the lines too much. And since I only used Astral's clips, some transactions between scenes are not very smooth, I apologize about that.

- I hope that the subtitles are easy to read, I never did something like this and I did my best to make them readable and not too fast.

- I rewatched it several times to check it, but it's very possible that there's still some errors or/and weird phrasing, so I apologize in advance for any errors.

After all those premises, here is the finished work:

Astral's clips from episodes 1 and 2 of Zexal in Italian dub (with English subs):

(I'm sorry for the bad quality, but not only the original videos were in a low quality, but I also had to lower it even more to upload it)

[nightghoul381]

Ellis Twilight~ Main Route Chapter 1

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist

Additional Content Warnings: None

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Part 1

--What is happiness?

It’s like a twilight sky that changes color the moment it burns into your eyes…

Even though it holds my heart forever and never lets go, I can never have the same one again.

Time, stop—don’t let this happiness fade away.

(From today onwards, my life will be monitored by the members of the assassin organization “Crown” that controls evil with evil.)

As a ‘fairytale keeper’, it is my duty to record their sins—my only lifeline.

Getting ready in front of the mirror, I try to re-energize.

(Honestly, I’m scared to face ‘sin’ again…)

(Up to this point, I’ve only had to deal with complaints at the post office or handling deliveries in crazy busy situations.)

(I’ll be okay, I’m sure it will work out somehow.)

Kate: “Okay, only one month. If I try, I can do this…okay.”

I repeat this to myself like a mantra, opened the door and took a brisk step forward--.

???: “Woah.”

Kate: “Kya!?”

I accidentally bump the tip of my nose into the chest of someone who was standing in front of the door.

Kate: “I-I’m sorry…!”

Ellis: “I’m sorry too...are you hurt?”

(Oh…this guy--)

--Flashback—

Harrsion: “…So what are you going to do now that you’ve explained everything so thoroughly, Victor?”

Victor: “Hmm…That’s right…”

Ellis: “Shall I kill her?”

(Eh--?)

Ellis: “She doesn’t look happy at all, but I’ll take the job.”

--End Flashback—

(He was the first to suggest killing me.)

(But, after that…)

--Flashback—

Ellis: “I’m Ellis.”

Kate: “Ellis… Nice to meet you.”

Ellis: “Mmhmm… likewise. Jude and I are often away on business.”

Ellis: “While I’m here, I’ll make you as happy as possible.”

--End Flashback—

With the same mouth, a line that sounded like a marriage proposal was said without hesitation… what an odd person.

(Why is Ellis in front of my room?)

Part 2

(Ah, I see. Surveillance has already started.)

If I misbehave, I might be killed.

(I can’t just keep acting like everything is the same.)

(I’ve already stepped into a different world.)

Kate: “Mr. Ellis, right…? I look forward to working with you from today onwards.”

Ellis: “Yes, Ellis Twilight, nice to meet you… no need to be so formal.”

Ellis laughed lightly and looked into my face with concern.

Ellis: “…your nose is getting red.”

Ellis: “Sorry, the door opened just as I was about to knock, so I couldn’t avoid it.”

A long, slender arm holds the door.

Behind his curly hair, as his name suggests, are twilight eyes.

I gasped when I notice how close we were and hurriedly apologized.

Kate: “No! I’m sorry I got anxious and jumped out…”

Ellis: “Are you anxious? Why?”

Kate: “What!? Um…”

(“I was getting anxious because I was scared of living with all of you.”)

(I can’t say that…)

Kate: “It’s like I was transferred to a new department that I don’t know at all…”

Kate: “It’s like… Gaahhh!”

Ellis: “Gaahhh…”

Ellis blinks in surprise.

(Ah, that was too weird…)

Ellis: “… you’re a cute person.”

Kate: “Um… it’s okay, you don’t have to follow me…”

(I should have been able to make up and excuse, but I feel so embarrassed.)

As I avert my gaze, looking for a place to move to, Ellis returned to a straight face and spoke in a whisper,

Ellis: “ I’d like to give you your first job in the ‘new department’… is that okay?”

Kate: “---Wow…”

(What a beautiful garden.)

I was taken to the courtyard of Crown castle…

There was a beautiful English garden that had been carefully maintained down to the last detail.

Seasonal flowers are in full bloom, and it smells like paradise.

(Last night, I could only feel the majesty and dangerous atmosphere of the towering castle…)

(But there are places where I feel so at ease.)

As I followed Ellis down the path, admiring the beautiful garden, a gazebo came into view.

Tea and scones are set on the table, as though a tea party is about to begin.

Ellis: “Please sit.”

Kate: “Oh…uh, thank you.”

Ellis pulled out a chair and was waiting for me, so I sat down in the chair, confused ,and he sat in the seat across from me.

(You said earlier that you wanted to give me a job, but…)

Kate: “Is this where I’ll be working my first job?”

Ellis: “Yeah… your first job is to eat breakfast with me.”

Part 3

Ellis: “Yeah…your first job is to eat breakfast with me.”

(…hmm?)

Ellis: “Tell me about yourself while eating delicious food, I’ll tell you about myself too.”

Ellis: “If you record it, it will count as your report as fairytale keeper, right?”

--CHOICES---------------------------------

That’s honestly helpful/ That honestly helps +4 +4

Isn’t that a nuisance? +4 +4

Why would you help me? +4 +4

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

Kate: “Why are you helping me?”

Ellis: “I thought it would make you happy.”

It seems like he’s seriously trying to help me.

Ellis: “I’ll also tell you about the other members of Crown.”

Ellis: “I think it’s a little scary to live among people you don’t know.”

Kate: “…!”

(I never expected this ‘first job’ to be…)

Kate: “Did you invite me just to relieve my anxiety?”

Ellis: “…That’s a little bit correct.”

Kate: “A little bit?”

Ellis: “It’s also for me to talk to you… that’s the bit that was incorrect.”

A faint smile appears on his lips.

(Maybe my first impression of Ellis last night was a misunderstanding.)

Just being near him made me feel like my temperature dropped instantly.

It felt like something was peeking out at me from the gaping darkness--.

I’m sure I felt that kind of anxiety last night…

(I don’t feel that way from Ellis in front of me now.)

(Maybe it was because I had just witnessed the murder scene.)

I gently pushed aside the strange feeling in my chest and decided not to acknowledge it.

--In hindsight, that turned out to be a mistake.

Part 4

(Anyway, Ellis took the trouble to arrange this for me.)

(I’ll take his word for it and listen to various stories.)

Kate: “Thank you, Ellis.”

Ellis: “I haven’t done anything to deserve your gratitude.”

Ellis: “Do you like sweets? These are scones Victor baked this morning.”

Kate: “Eh? Victor baked…?”

Ellis: “Yes, it’s like his hobby. Al is also a good cook.”

Ellis: “The clotted cream is something I learned from Al and made myself.”

Ellis: “Liam recommended this jam, so he bought it for me.”

Ellis: “Perhaps he knows a lot about what’s trending because he’s a stage actor.”

Ellis: “This meat pie is from the restaurant where Roger took me to lunch the other day. He treats me to drinks often.”

Kate: “W-wait a minute. I want to write down what you just told me…!”

When I take out my notebook that I had kept in my pocket,

Ellis told me a lot about the people in Crown--.

Kate: “Oh, I know about the shop that sells this apricot crumble too! There’s usually quite a line there, right?”

Ellis: “I bought it with Harry. Harry apparently has a sweet tooth and is obsessed with delicious sweets shops.”

Kate: “Hehe… Everyone in Crown is good friends aren’t they?”

(I felt like I was living in another world,)

(I feel relieved to know that we are all people living in the same London.)

(Thanks to Ellis.)

With a big smile on my face, I spread cream on the scone in my hand.

Ellis: “Kate.”

Kate: “Yes…?”

Very naturally, the palm of Ellis’ large hand reached up to the side of my face.

Ellis: “You’re going to get cream stuck in your hair.”

Kate: “Huh? Oh…”

(That’s true, I didn’t notice.)

Ellis scoops up my hair with his fingertips and gently tucks it behind my ear.

Kate: “Thank you.”

Ellis: “You’re welcome… It was so good you went crazy for it didn’t you?”

Ellis, resting his chin on his hand, looked at me and smiled.

Kate: “…Yes, it’s delicious.”

Ellis: “Good.”

(If Ellis can do something like this so casually… he must be popular.)

Realizing that my heart was pounding, I tried to calm down my erratic heartbeat.

Kate: “Preparing a seat, caring about me like this…”

Kate: “Why are you being so kind to me?”

(I don’t remember doing anything to Ellis yesterday that would make him treat me so kindly…)

Ellis: “Kate, you haven’t looked happy since last night.”

Ellis: “I want the people around me to smile as much as possible.”

(That’s all…?)

(Even though I’m a complete stranger to Ellis… I don’t know anything about him.)

Kate: “Do you do this for anyone? Even if you just met for the first time?”

Ellis: “Huh…? Yeah… is that wrong?”

The simple question, in turn, made him look confused.

(Ellis is a bit of an odd person after all.)

(But…)

Kate: “…I’m happy.”

(I’m sure I feel better thanks to Ellis.)

Ellis: “I see… If you don’t hate it, good.”

Part 5

By the time the peaceful breakfast was over, my wariness had completely subsided.

Ellis: “Is going to the theater your hobby?”

Kate: “Yes. In fact, last night I took on an unfamiliar night shift because I wanted money for tickets…”

Ellis: “Heheh… you’re quite passionate.”

I chatted endlessly with Ellis, as if we were new friends.

Then, the sound of another set of footsteps echoed.

Victor: “Hey, hey! This is exciting!”

Ellis: “Victor.”

Kate: “…! Good morning.”

Victor: “Oh, you don’t have to stand up! I don’t want to interrupt your pleasant conversation.”

Victor: “Since Ellis offered to do so, I left breakfast to him… Do you feel a little less nervous?”

Victor kept smiling and looked at me searchingly.

The shadow of the unfathomable feeling I felt from him last night has faded, and I can feel the warmth of concern in his jewel-like eyes.

(Maybe it’s because I enjoyed my first job with Ellis and it relieved my tension.)

Kate: “Yes. Thanks to Ellis and the delicious scones you baked for me.”

Victor: “…”

When I smiled gratefully, Victor seemed a little surprised.

But soon a smile appeared on his face, like a flower blooming.

Victor: “Yeah, yeah. Your smile says ‘I’m so happy to be Crown’s exclusive fairytale keeper!’”

Ellis: “…Did it really say that much?”

Kate: “…hehe.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed as he watched my shoulders shake.

Victor: “Well I had two requests for you as fairytale keeper, keeping our secret and recording our sins.”

Victor: “The former is fine, but the latter I would imagine has you at a loss as to what to do specifically.”

Victor: “May I give a little explanation?”

Kate: “Yes. Please.”

Victor: “It’s not difficult. I want you to carefully observe the people of Crown and write down what you feel is a sin.”

Victor: “I’ll leave it to you to figure out how.”

Victor: “You can have multiple people watch over you on a rotating basis or you can choose one person to work with.”

(Observe the members of Crown carefully. I am free to choose my methods and partners… I see.)

Kate: “I understand, um, how far does my surveillance extend?”

Victor: “Even though I say surveillance, I don’t mean to restrict your freedom of movement other than going out alone.”

Victor: “I may ask you to accompany us on missions, but you can spend the rest of the time however, you like.”

I was a little relieved as I had expected to be under much stricter surveillance.

Kate: “Understood. Thank you for your explanation.”

Victor: “…Honestly, I was a little surprised just now. I didn’t expect to see your smile so soon.”

Victor: “You witnessed a terrible scene, and we are an evil organization that cannot be said to be safe.”

He gave me a joking wink…

Then Victor squinted his eyes as if looking at bright sunlight.

Victor: “I hope that the darkness that will inevitably touch you from now on won’t take away your smile.”

Strangely enough, I didn’t believe what I was told was a lie.

(The people of Crown are definitely dark and terrifying people who don’t mind harming others.)

However—I thought that if I looked deep into my heart, there were feelings that I could understand.

Victor: “Then I’ll excuse myself. The Queen’s Aide is quite busy.”

Victor seemed to have just come to see what was going on and immediately left without coming to the table.

(To record their sins, first I’ll have to take a good look at the members of Crown.)

In that case—I’d like Ellis to be the first one I want to know more about.

Such feelings come naturally.

Kate: “Um, Ellis…What are your plans for today?”

However, my question was interrupted by a harsh voice.

Jude: “Yer supposed to be workin. How dare ya slack off.”

Ellis and Kate: “!”

I jumped at the sound of a loud voice.

(That voice is--)

When I hesitantly turned around, I saw Jude standing in the garden with his arms folded, looking irritated.

(Oh, you’re angry…!)

Ellis: “Sorry. I’ll go now.”

Without even standing up, Ellis leisurely turned his gaze toward Jude and answered.

(Such carelessness….)

Jude clicked his tongue, quickly flipped his cloak with a flourish and left.

Ellis: “…As you can see, that is today’s schedule.”

Kate: “You work for a trading company right?”

(Jude is the president and Ellis is the president’s assistant...right?)

(I was thinking of observing Ellis, but maybe I should try another day.)

Kate: “Thank you for making time for me. Good luck with your work.”

Ellis: “……”

Ellis was staring at me, thinking about something--.

Kate: “Um…?”

Ellis: “If you don’t mind, would you like to come with me?”

Kate: “Why are you helping me?”

Next Chapter

[seo-julie]

Natsu Kanna - The Child Mechanical God Ep 2

Characters: Kanna, Makoto, Keito, Kanata Release: 25/7/2024 Proofreading: leen Translation: seo-julie

Season: Spring Location: Seisoukan courtyard

✧

Kanna: Sigh… Senpai, you don't know anything, do you?

This is the latest sleeping device I developed, and I call it “Sleep Peacefully Anywhere-kun”.

Keito: What's with that name? It sounds something like that of an unsuccessful comedian's name.

Makoto: (Hasumi-senpai, your straight man¹ act is prompt and precise… I need to learn a thing or two from you.)

Kanna: The name doesn't matter. It's not like I'm the one naming it. 

Based on the latest ergonomics research, this bed is perfectly constructed so that anyone can get a good night's sleep instantly.

In addition, there is also a function that increases the effectiveness of recovering from fatigue by several dozen times. If you doubt it, would you like to give it a try?

It seems like both of you couldn't sleep, just like me. If you use “Sleepy-kun (abbreviation)”, then you'd be in a dream in no time. 

Makoto: Ah, I might be a little interested.

Hehe. I buy all those latest gadgets even when I'll probably use them only once and then throw them into the closet.

Kanna: As long as there are such curious customers, my job will not disappear.

Makoto: Job? If you're at Seisoukan, doesn't that mean you're an idol as well?

Kanna: For the time being, yes. But my main job is something else.

Kanna: Calling myself an inventor might sound shady, but that’s what I do. 

Makoto: Ah, I think I've heard of it somewhere. I see, you're that "Deus Ex Machina²", aren't you?

Keito: What is with that name? It sounds like a name made up by someone with chuunibyou. 

Makoto: (As expected! Your straight man act is so good, please let me call you master!)

Keito: Why are you looking at me with such sparkling eyes…?

Kanna: I didn't come up with that nickname for myself. "Deus Ex Machina" is not a very promising name. 

Keito: A mechanical god…? Are you actually an ingeniously crafted robot that looks like a human?

Makoto: Ahaha, he does give off that same vibe.

Kanna: …People often said that.

Anyways. Everyone, why don't you try using this bed for a while?

As an apology for causing you both concern, I'll give you two a good night's sleep.

Makoto: Ah, as I said earlier, I'm interested~♪ Do I just lie down here? And sleep peacefully until morning?

Keito: H-hey, wait, Yuuki, don't be so careless now–

Kanna: Alright.

Keito: Woah!?

(W-what? I was suddenly pushed from behind…!?)

Makoto: W-whaa, please don't crash on me, Hasumi-senpai! This bed was probably made to fit only one person!?

Kanna: –Good night, seniors.

Please sleep in peace. This way, you'll forget all the troubles of reality.

Location: Makoto's Dorm

Makoto: ……

(Ah, huh? I, was I sleeping? Was it all just a dream?)

(That was such a strange dream… But, yeah, it had to be a dream. It was so unrealistic.)

(I had a weird conversation with a weird kid under the moonlight. It's a dream, and no matter who you talk to, they'll all say, 'So what?' Such a trivial story.)

Ahaha. I must be having all these unrealistic dreams because I play these games all the time. Stop having weird delusions, I need to face reality–

Keito: Yuuki! Are you there?

Makoto: W-whoa, what a surprise!? H-Hasumi-senpai? Is there anything I can help you with?

Keito: Do you remember what happened last night?

Makoto: Yes?

Keito: I wonder if that was a dream after all… A dream is a dream, my memory is getting hazy and I can't remember much anymore.

Didn't we see a strange machine and child last night? 

Makoto: Um… No but, it was a dream, right? But, huh, did Hasumi-senpai have the same dream as well?

Location: Seisoukan courtyard

Kanna: …

(Sigh~... Looks like by interfering with their cranial nerves, I was able to erase their memories, but it seems like there was something I forgot to subtly erase.)

(Not yet, it's not yet perfect.)

(If the results are lower than what the developer expected, if the product does not perform the desired functions, then it is an utter failure…)

(...Just like me.)

(Commercialization would be difficult. There's still room for improvement.)

Kanata: Hm~m h~m?

Kanna: Is there something troubling you?

Kanata: ? Yes, well, you know, I like taking “cold baths³”. But this, “season” is a bit too cold and I'm afraid I might catch a “cold”–

Kanna: I see. Well then, why don't you try this invention.

This is called, “Kettle that Makes Everything Hot-kun”.

(Humans find things that are alike in only appearance to be ominous.)

(This uncanny feeling… Even so, I too want to overcome it.)

(I'm…)

(Not… a machine.)

Kanata: ? What's wrong~?

Kanna: No… Sorry, it malfunctions sometimes.

Kanna: (As of this moment, not yet.)

(But, I'm sure someday...)

¹ The original word used for this was “tsukkomi”. It's from what I think is a troupe(?) known as boke and tsukkomi. Boke and tsukkomi are loosely equivalent to the roles of "funny man" or "comic" (boke) and "straight man" (tsukkomi) in the comedy duos of western culture. Which is why I have opted to use straight man for the tl. ² Deus ex machina is a Latin calque from Greek ἀπὸ μηχανῆς θεός (apò mēkhanês theós) “god from the machine”. The term was coined from the conventions of ancient Greek theater, where actors who were playing gods were brought on stage using a machine. ³ The original word used was “mizuabi” which literally translates to “bathing in cold water”.

Directory

[twilightmalachite]

Yuuta Aoi - Someday in the Future

Writer: Yuumasu

Characters: Yuuta, Hajime

Translator: Mika Enstars

I hope by then… I’ll have grown even more and have become proud of who I am, as “Aoi Yuuta”.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Yumenosaki Library

Yuuta: ……

…Huh? Only about five minutes have passed…

I’m looking at the clock too often, actually. I’ve completely lost my concentration.

I’ll take a break from studying.

Maybe I’ll read some books, since I’m in the library. And that even I can enjoy are…

Hmm. I don’t know which books are on what shelf. At bookstores, I only go to the manga section…

Oh well. I’ll take a look outside the window for a change of pace, then.

Ooh, the glass is so squeaky clean I can see my reflection clearly! Was it wiped down not long ago?

…My hair sure has grown long.

(It’s nothing compared to my roommate, Ran-senpai, but… For someone who hasn’t ever grown their hair out before, it’s a big venture.)

(I wonder how long I can grow it… Maybe as long as Hakaze-senpai’s?)

(I could also tie it like Shiina-senpai, couldn’t I? It would be a bit of a show just by letting it down during a performance.)

(It’d be nice to be able to arrange my hair intensively like Hibiki-senpai too… Like with braids, or buns…)

Hajime: —Yuuta-kun?

Yuuta: Whoa!?

Hajime: Eek!? I-I’m sorry if I surprised you! I didn’t mean to, I was just wondering why you were staring at the window’s glass so blankly.

I thought I wiped it down well, but did I maybe miss a spot…?

Yuuta: Oh, so you’re why the windows are wiped down squeaky clean, Hajime-kun! Oh no, it looks really nice!

I wasn’t looking at the window, but my reflection in it… Wait, that makes me sound like a narcissist.

I got distracted by my hair all of a sudden. “It sure has gotten long~”, you know?

Hajime: Ahh, now that you mention it, it has grown quite a lot, huh?

Isn’t bathing and such quite the chore now, with how much time it takes to wash and dry it?

Yuuta: Hmm…? It’s not like it grew out suddenly. I don’t mind it all too much at the moment.

I feel those are the things that you’d notice once you get a haircut. Come to think of it, actually, aren’t you not allowed to cut your hair due to unit policy or something, Hajime-kun?

Hajime: You remember that~? Yes, that is right.

I would like to get something economical like a crew cut, but I’d rather not make it any shorter than it is now.

Yuuta: Ahaha, the opposite of myself, who’s intentionally growing their hair out.

Hajime: Fufu, for sure. ♪

Oh, wait, I apologize. You’d been wanting to grow your hair long, and here I am complaining…

Yuuta: Don’t worry about that~. I’m just happy to hear experiences from someone who has had long hair longer than I have!

Yuuta: Given you want to shave it all off, you don’t seem to be all too particular about your hair, but… When you started growing your hair out, what was it like? Was it weird?

Hajime: Umm… It’s been quite a long time since I’ve had a crew cut, so my memory’s a bit hazy, but…

It came with a little bit of discomfort. It felt like I was becoming less of who I used to be, little by little.

Everyone around me kept saying, “your hair has gotten so long!” But being told that just made me feel uneasy.

Gradually, that discomfort faded, and people stopped bringing up my hair…

And now, this hair has become the new “normal” for me. Earlier, I had mentioned something along the lines that everyone wouldn’t let me, but…

Even if I were told I could cut it, I don’t think I would. Growing it out takes time, but haircuts are instantaneous. You have to be prepared for it.

And I’ve found myself liking my hair like this, too…♪

Yuuta: It does suit you~! ♪

I hope that maybe someday… Myself, and those who support me won’t care so much about my long hair, either.

To accept it as part of my individuality, with no more discomfort.

I hope by then… I’ll have grown even more and have become proud of who I am, as “Aoi Yuuta”.

Hajime: I’m sure of it. You’re great enough as you are now.

Yuuta: Oh you~, aren’t you a smooth talker, you~!

Hajime: I’m not kidding, you know! I’m serious. Can’t you see it in my eyes? *staaaares*

Yuuta: I don’t need to bring my face close to yours to know that. Thank you, Hajime-kun.

…Even if it’s a pain for you, your hair is gorgeous, Hajime-kun. You’re taking care of it well, it’s impressive~.

Hajime: Fufu, I haven’t done all that much, really.

I bumped into Narukami-senpai in the shower room once, and she recommended that I choose a shampoo suited for my hair type.

Yuuta: Really? I suppose I should try doing that too.

Hajime: Yes, I can’t recommend it enough! ♪ Just changing your shampoo can make such a huge difference!

Would you perhaps like to go shopping with me, sometime? I’m running low on the shampoo that I’m using, so…

I’d love to help you find something while I’m out refreshing my supply. ♪

Yuuta: For real? That’d be great! What would make a good time…

Yuuta: Oh, I know! Rather than sometime, how about now? I’ll just study for my test tomorrow!

Hajime: Hmm… But procrastinating with your studying now will just encourage bad habits later on, you know…?

So, how about you study hard, and I’ll work hard at my library duties. And at the end of the day…

We can go shopping together. How’s that?

Yuuta: I’m in favor! ♪ I’ll work hard, then!

Let’s go out for dinner together while we’re at it, too! I know a good place!

Hajime: Wow, sounds like a fun plan! Good luck with your studies, alright?

Yuuta: Will do! Good luck to you as well, Hajime-kun.

Yuuta: …I’m all motivated now, thanks to Hajime-kun. Having a reward sure is a game changer~!

Aaalright, let’s get this out of the way! ♪

[ ☆ ]

story directory

[apenapaperandadoofus]

HIII IM SORRY TO ASKTHIS HUT I HAVE READSKME OF YOUR STORIES AND CAN I REQ A AFAB X DOM DILUC💗💗💗 BUT YHEY JUST FINISHED FIGHTING IF ITS OKAY FOR YOU CAN U MSKE IT SMUT<333 (hes on my mind for days omg)

DONT WORRY IM IN A GENSHIN (ESPECIALLY DILUC) HYPERFIXXATION SO IM HAPPY FOR THE ASK

We fight we break up we kiss we make up (Dom!Diluc x AFAB!Reader)

I legit had no title ideas and Katy was the first thing that popped to mind lol

Also I had to look into the tavern because I needed to remember what it looked like and APPARENTLY IT HAS A THIRD FLOOR I TOTALLY FORGOT so yeah now you know

And apologies if it sounds a bit weird, for some reason my brain is not translating and writing correctly, it’s just one of those days yknow? Also could be cuz I’ve been running on literally nothing but caffeine oops

“I’m back.” You called out opening the front door of Angel’s Share.

The usually loud tavern filled with drunken laughter and music was now replaced by dimmed lights and silence. It was late at night, and you had just finished a tiring day of endless commissions.

You looked towards the bar, where your boyfriend usually was tidying everything up for the next day, but instead found the new hire on his spot.

He looked up and smiled.

“Miss, you’re back. Ah! If you’re looking for Master Diluc he is up in the storage room.” The young boy pointed up.

“Thanks Leon. Don’t stay here too late alright?” You smiled in appreciation.

He nodded, and went back to the task at hand.

You climbed up towards the third floor of the tavern, legs aching from the amount of walking you did that day.

“Why are there so many goddamn stairs.” You groaned.

Finally you made it up to the third floor, however, before you were even done walking up the stairs, a loud thud and a string of curse words caught your attention.

The storage door was slightly open, a small amount light pouring out from inside.

“Diluc?” You walked into the room, finding the familiar redhead kneeling down and picking up a bottle of wine.

Thankfully it hadn’t shattered, but a hefty amount of the drink poured out on the floor.

Walking over you took your handkerchief and cleaned the spilt liquid, making Diluc glance at you in surprise.

“You’re back.” He said. His eyes flickered around your face, checking and examining for any sign of injury.

You chuckled. “I am. Rough day at work? I swear I’ve never seen you spill any of the bottles before.”

Diluc huffed and stood up. “This sort of thing is not exactly unusual for bartenders.”

You frowned at his cold reply, raising a brow. “Really bad day huh?”

“Why did you come back so late?” He said. “Commissions usually don’t take you that long. You know it’s dangerous at night.”

Placing the now wet handkerchief on the corner you stood up and stretched. “Oh please Diluc, you know I can handle myself. Besides Franz was with me.”

The redhead’s eyes narrowed. “You were paired up with him again?”

“He asked for my help patrolling a few areas around Springvale and we kind of lost the track of time. Besides he’s new into the guild and as his senior I should help him right?”

“He’s been in the guild for six months already, if he isn’t able to handle the job by now maybe he should think of another occupation.”

Diluc crossed his arms, scoffing. “And besides, what exactly was it that made the two of you ‘loose the track of time’ so much that it became one in the morning? Last time I checked, scouting for hilichurl camps doesn’t exactly take that long”

You looked at your boyfriend with a confused expression. “What are you implying Diluc? You know it’s part of my job to help other members as well.”

“Right, but I don’t recall you spending that much time with them before.”

“Seriously Luc? You’re acting like a child, just because he made one drunken joke-”

“I’ve seen drunk people and he was not one of them, he was legitimately trying to flirt with you and now you’re enabling his fixation.” He said, matter-of-factually.

He glared at you and you felt a pang of shock and anger course through your body.

“Oh really?! I was doing my job Diluc, you can’t expect me to shirk my responsibilities because you’re throwing a tantrum.” You threw your hands up in frustration, pacing around the room.

Diluc groaned in annoyance and walked towards you. “A tantrum? I have every right to question a man who tried to flirt with my partner.”

“Right, because you don’t trust me.” You turned to look at him, accusingly.

“I never said that!” He stared at you wide eyed and you let out a sardonic laugh.

“Well you might as well! Do you seriously think I would go behind your back-”

“Do not put words in my mouth Y/N.”

“-Flirting with someone else for some reason.” You continued, walking towards him.

“I would never-”

“How could you think so little of me?!”

“Will you just listen to be and be quiet for a minute?”

Diluc gently gripped your shoulders to stop you from moving, the two of you so close your noses could almost touch.

Shaking his hands off you glared at him in defiance.

“Why don’t you make me, Master Diluc.” You sneered at him, the words coming out before you could stop them.

Diluc stared at you, surprise apparent on his face.

Tension enveloped the room.

Neither of you said a word as you suddenly felt the temperature spike.

Diluc glanced down at your lips, and then at you, and before you could say anything else he pulled you into a fierce kiss, lips crashing into yours.

You gasped and gripped the collar of his coat, your hand gripping his hair.

Diluc pushed you against the wall, hands reaching down and pushing your shirt up, his knee pushing between your legs. You moaned, grinding against him as he kissed your collarbone.

However, before you could do anything more he pulled away.

You let out a disappointed huff.

“Diluc what are you…”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence as you felt yourself being pushed down on your knees. Diluc had quickly unbuckled his pants, his throbbing cock now in front of you.

“Wait- Diluc-”

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” He said, gripping your hair and pulling you towards his dick, a hint of dominance flashing in his eyes. “Now suck it.”

You gulped and nodded slowly, opening your mouth to lick the tip of his member before sucking.

Pressing your legs together to stop the heat from between them spreading, you continued sucking and gently licking his dick.

Diluc huffed and pulled you away.

“Diluc? Wha-mmggh!” You gagged as he shoved his dick into your mouth, thrusting into the back of your throat. Tears prickled the corner of your eyes, and Diluc chuckled.

“You wanted me to shut you up didn’t you? Where’s that challenging attitude from before?”

You gripped his thighs, and Diluc thrusted in further before pulling your hair and making you look up at him.

“Look at me, ngh- won’t you? This is how you properly suck your master’s dick alright? Mmph, yes, just like that. Be a good doll and take it all in.” He moaned.

You felt your jaw numb, tears rolling down from his size.

Before long Diluc groaned, almost reaching his climax. You tried to pull away but he pushed his cock, making you drink all of his seed.

He looked down at you, a smirk on his face. “Drink it all. Don’t let a single drop fall.”

You swallowed and fell back, coughing.

Still gasping for air, you let out a surprised gasp as you felt a pair of arms lift you up, pushing you against he doorway. You tried to turn around but Diluc kept you firmly in place.

“Are you really that wet just from sucking me off? So naughty~” he chuckled, pressing a finger against your sex. You moaned and tried to grind against him.

“Do you want to feel good?” He whispered, gently biting your earlobe.

You whimpered, nodding. “Please Diluc.”

He nodded and helped you take off your pants and already dripping panties.

Diluc rubbed your entrance with his finger, and you whined, needing him inside of you.

“Diluc.”

He lightly pressed his finger against you. “Address me correctly.” He ordered.

Your eyes widened and you turned to look at him. A determined and lustful expression filled his face.

You had to admit, you liked seeing him being so forward and taking charge. It made your skin prickle with heat, the way his eyes lidded and roamed around your body.

Taking a small breath you tried to get your voice to reply.

“M…master…” you whispered.

He raised a brow, an excited grin on his face. “Good.” He applied more pressure. “Now apologize.”

“A-apologize?” You repeated, voice still hoarse from before. “But-ngh!”

Diluc inserted a finger inside. However, he didn’t move.

“For talking to me that way before.” He pressed his finger inside you a bit. “For provoking me like that.” His lips caressed your neck, gently touching it. “Well?”

You huffed and closed your eyes, face heating up. “I…I’m sorry…”

He bit your shoulder. “For what?”

“I’m…I’m sorry for provoking you…master…’

“Good girl.”

You gasped as you felt him move his finger inside of you, quickly inserting another.

Diluc made sure to press all the right spots, making you moan out in pleasure.

“You’re so tight…” he whispered. “At least it means that bastard hasn’t touched you this way.”

“Aah! No, no just you…” you whimpered.

“Hm?”

“It’s just…just you Diluc…you’re the only one I want this way…”

“You…” Diluc’s face turned as red as his hair and he let out a nervous chuckle.

He pressed his cock against your wet entrance, unable to not be inside you anymore.

“Mr. Diluc?”

A voice called out.

You both stood still.

“Crap…” you whispered, turning to look at Diluc keeping an eye on the door. “Leon..”

The door was barely open. However if he walked in further inside you were sure he would catch you. “Diluc, if he comes in he’ll see-”

You barely finished talking before Diluc inserted his cock inside of you, making you gasp in pleasure.

“I can’t wait anymore.” He whispered. “Be quiet or else he’ll hear us.”

“But- wait- ngh!” You whimpered. Diluc roughly thrusted into you, his rough hands teasing your nipples.

“Sir?” The voice asked, the sound of footsteps coming closer.

“I’m alright, Leon.” Diluc called out, making the footsteps stop. “Did you…need something.” He hoped the boy didn’t notice the strain on his voice.

“Well…I finished cleaning up downstairs. Did Miss Y/N leave already?” Leon asked.

“Yes.” Diluc thrusted further inside you, hitting your deepest spots. “She just…left.”

You placed your hands on the wall, trying to keep your balance and accidentally grinding against him.

“Master Diluc…more” you moaned, moving your hips.

“Shit…” Diluc cursed, gripping your hips tightly and speeding up his pace.

“I can’t...I can’t, my voice, ah! Diluc, m-my voice…” you whispered.

Grunting, Diluc placed a finger inside your mouth, trying to muffle your sounds.

“Oh, well…if you have the rest taken care of then am I allowed to leave? Unless you need my help-”

“I do not Leon I-” he stopped as he felt you suck his finger, and squeezed your hips before he cleared his throat. “T-Thank you…you can go now.”

“Great! Goodnight sir!”

You heard the sound of footstep’s receding down the stairs, and as soon as you heard the front door close you felt Diluc’s hand move and you let out a scream of pleasure.

“Yes! Master, right there!” You gasped.

Diluc grunted and turned your head to kiss you, both of you separating only to moan or catch your breath.

“I love you…” he whispered.

You smiled.

“I…I love you too…I’m all yours Diluc…only yours…” you whimpered.

Diluc stopped, looking at you. A small smile appeared on his face and he bumped his forehead against yours. “I’m all yours as well my love….” he gently kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip, before moving again.

Eventually you both began to reach your peak.

Diluc placed a trail of kisses on your shoulder and began moving up towards your neck.

“I wonder…” he whispered between kisses, “I wonder what would happen if I were to leave a mark on your for the world to see…”

“Wh-what? Hold on, Diluc I still have work-anngh!” You whined, feeling Diluc suck on your neck until a hickey began to form.

He let go and stared at his handiwork with a proud expression, before biting your shoulder.

“Diluc!” You gasped.

He bit and sucked on every spot of your body- on your back, neck, shoulders, your wrist, and with every single place he made sure to leave a visible mark for everyone to see that he was yours, and you were his.

You whined and pulled on his hair, letting him know you were close.

Diluc turned you around for you to face him, moaning, feeling your walls clench around him in tightly, Diluc finished you off with a rough kiss, finally the two of you reaching climax.

He grabbed you and pulled you down on the floor with him, placing your head on his chest.

His body emitted warmth, and you cuddled closer to him.

“I can’t believe you almost let Leon see us.”

You eventually said, voice raspy from screaming.

“Hmph, he never comes inside the room unless I ask him to. If I knew we were going to be caught I wouldn’t have kept going.”

You scoffed and looked up at him before laying back down. “Ugh, still you- you’re lucky he didn’t come in.”

Diluc chuckled before burying his face into your hair. “You know I wouldn’t let anyone else see you like that, dear. It’s only a privilege I alone posses.”

You flushed at the words and cleared your throat. “Mmm, fine, you’re right.”

You both laid in a comfortable silence before you sat up and turned towards him, caressing his cheek. “I’m sorry I accused you of not trusting me. I know you were only worried. But believe me when I tell you I have things handled- the only person I want in my life is you.”

Diluc gently pulled you down and nuzzled your nose against his before smiling. “I understand. I apologize as well. I know you are more than capable of punching the life out of that miserable adventurer if he tries to do anything to you.” He said, kissing the tip of your nose.

You laughed and laid on top of him, sighing as he pet your hair. “Hmm true, I do throw a pretty mean punch. I’ll try not to work too late, alright? But you need to promise me the same.”

“Alright.”

“And don’t try to kill someone just because they hit on me. I can take care of that.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright.”

“I mean, you don’t see me walking up to Donna and threatening her every time she mentions you right? Because-mmph, Diluc!” You scolded him as he turned you around and kissed you, smiling lovingly.

“Do you ever quiet down?” He teased.

You smirked. “Mmm no. Why don’t you try and make me again, pretty boy?”

It wasn’t before long that the two of you began round two.

Next day you chided him because you had to wear a coat over the sweltering heat, to cover every single mark he had given you.

Diluc only smiled proudly at the statement, but everyone else had thought you were either sick or had become mad for wearing such warm clothes during summer.

After Kaeya teased you for the upteenth time about your outfit, you made a mental note to get your revenge that night, as soon as you were done with your commissions.



[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Chevalier's Sequel Chapter 8 Spoilers

This is a rough translation, so expect grammatical errors. Spoilers ahead.

As soon as he heard my footsteps, the man turned his gaze towards me and smiled.

???: “We meet again.”

Emma: “You are...umm...”

The man had mysterious eyes that captured the starry sky and silver hair that shone when illuminated by the light.

Although he had an unforgettable appearance, I couldn’t remember it.

Azel: “I’m Azel. It’s no wonder you don’t remember me.”

Azel: “After all, this is a dream within a dream, something meant to be forgotten.”

(That’s right, Azel!)

Somewhere in the depths of my mind, fragments of memories flickered faintly.

I could only remember bits and pieces, but I had a similar dream before.

Azel: “By the way, you’re not from Tanzanite, right?”

Azel: “Then there’s no point in being overly polite.”

The gentle atmosphere from earlier suddenly disappeared, and his affectionate smile turned cold.

(He’s as quick to change as ever.)

Azel: “Anyway, did something happen to you?”

Emma: “What do you mean?”

Azel: “Look at the rose.”

He beckoned me, and I quickly walked towards the glass-domed rose.

It looked like a beautiful gemstone similar to a rose used when selecting the king, but something was strange.

Emma: “This is...”

(Some of the rose’s petals are discolored.)

Emma: "Why...?"

(I have no idea.)

(What does the rose's discoloration indicate in the first place?)

I sought an answer in his mystical eyes but was met with a sigh.

Azel: "There's no way I would know. Besides, I have no intention of listening to your troubles."

Azel: "I'm tired of working day in and day out, so let me at least rest in this dream."

(Weird. This is a dream, so he's not supposed to exist.)

Emma: ".........."

Azel: ".........."

Azel: "If you want to think about something, go somewhere else. You're distracting me."

Emma: "But this is my dream."

Azel: "I'm having this dream too."

(This guy is so unreasonable.)

(But I don't think pondering over the rose will lead me to any answers.)

After all, this was just a dream.

I still love Chevalier just the same.

As long as my feelings remained unchanged, maybe I didn't need to worry about it.

(If that's the case, I should focus on something else.)

Emma: "Are you from Tanzanite?"

I asked to distract myself, and he nodded.

(It's strange. I've never met anyone from Tanzanite before, so why does he appear in my dreams?)

(Maybe it's the influence of something I read.)

While I understand that this dream had nothing to do with reality, if the person standing before me was really from Tanzanite, then I need to worry.

Emma: “Speaking of Tanzanite, didn’t you guys recently form a tripartite alliance? Why did that happen?”

Azel: “I never thought I’d discuss politics in a dream. Even if I tell you, you will forget about it.”

Emma: “I still want to hear it.”

Azel: “Alright. I’ll tell you. Consider this my apology since I’m intruding into your dream.”

For some reason, he returned to using honorifics and smiled mysteriously as if a halo was shining behind him.

Azel: “Let’s just say it was due to divination.”

Emma: “Divination?”

Azel: “Yes. In Tanzanite, divination is everything.”

Azel: “Those foolish people, ahem, those devout believers, follow God’s guidance.”

(Ugh, this sounds so fishy.)

(But they say that dreams reflect our subconscious, so maybe I secretly think that way?)

(It’s rude to jump to conclusions, so next time, I’ll study Tanzanite properly.)

Azel: “Although, Achroite and Kogyoku are far more sensible strategic alliances than Tanzanite.”

Azel: “That’s all I can tell you.”

Emma: “..........”

I took a breath, and the divine light that shone from behind him and his gentle smile vanished like an illusion.

Azel: "Since you're worried about the alliance, are you perhaps related to the royal family?"

Emma: "My fiancé is the King."

Azel: "The King's woman..."

Azel: "Oh, I see. You're the famous 'Belle' from Beauty and the Beast."

(Has that story even spread to Tanzanite!?)

(No, that's impossible. This is a dream.)

Azel: "I see. I've heard about your love story."

Azel: "It really is a curse. But I didn't expect it to be a curse involving the country's fate."

(A curse, huh?)

(I remember he said that love is a curse.)

Emma: "I still don't understand."

(I have never felt love as a curse.)

(And never will.)

(So why do I feel so confused?)

Azel: "Think about it."

Azel: "Originally, there was no benefit for the royal family to marry a commoner."

Azel: "And yet, knowing this, the King of Rhodolite chose you to be his wife."

Azel: "That sounds like a story the people would love, but what about reality?"

Azel: "A love affair with a commoner is usually harmful to the king."

Emma: "That's not true!"

Azel: "It happens often. There were stories of kings who destroyed themselves by being in love."

(Chevalier said the same thing when we first met.)

However, the Chevalier now admits that love brings growth.

I feel that way every day too.

Azel: "You stubbornly deny that love is a curse, but can that man choose his country when the time comes?"

Emma: "He can. Prince Chevalier is that kind of person."

(Even if he loves me, that will not change because Chevalier was born a king.)

Azel: "You don't understand the horror of love, do you?"

However, Azel shook his head confidently.

Azel: "The same can be said about you. A queen must prioritize her country's interests alongside the king."

Azel: "When the time comes, can you choose your country's interests?"

Emma: "Of course, I can."

Azel: "Easy for you to say."

Azel: "Let me make a prediction. You will definitely not be able to choose."

(That's not true.)

I tried to respond, but my vision suddenly became distorted.

(Huh?)

Azel: "It's time to wake up."

Azel: "I'll pray that the story of Beauty and the Beast doesn't turn into a tragic love story."

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Mosters - Chapter Two

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

Finally, the small team enters the picture, and it becomes clear how Leona's failed escape attempt continues.

I apologize for any possible mistakes, but my eyes can't find the typos when I go through the text for the twentieth time... so sorry!

The chapter is still kind of an introduction... but everything will start over time ;)

Leona calls everyone by their last name, so it might be weird for a while if you're used to the characters' callsigns/nicknames. But for now, it didn't seem natural :)

(I proofread myself before posting, so sorry if there are mistakes! I write the story in my language first, and I translate it after. English is not my first language, so help is welcomed! Just be nice, please!)

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Two

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I press my lips into a thin line as I stare at the door in front of me, my legs bouncing nervously under the table where I've been sitting silently for at least an hour now. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall feels almost ear-piercing in the silence of the empty room, and I feel my patience running thin with each click. I would prefer to run amok and smash the fucking uncomfortable chair against the wall, but my hands that are cuffed to the table stop me from doing so thankfully. Of course, I also know that my temper tantrum wouldn't make any difference because I successfully got caught anyway, and breaking and crushing things wouldn't change that. What I would achieve with it at most is that they’d get another dose of that very premium stuff, which got me here in the first place.

I spent at least seven of the last twelve hours completely knocked out, and maybe it was better when the outside world seemed like a distant nightmare. Because when I finally regained consciousness strapped to a white hospital bed, the memories quickly returned to my head and I realized that I was sinking into the shit I caused for myself. Even though I tried - rather stupidly - to escape by stunning the two enforcers, I should have expected that even if they didn't know what I was capable of, they wouldn't send just two people to catch an Extreme. If nothing else, the simple fact that it is extremely rare to find one of my kind justifies their caution. I should have known from the moment I saw the lab results. But panic clouded all my judgment to such an extent that I attacked and fled like a startled wild animal. It was embarrassingly easy for them to hunt me down.

My mind still fills with helpless rage and disappointment as I think back on the chain of events that destroyed my carefully constructed disguise, life, and everything, that I had built for the last twelve years. How could I have been so stupid to not pay attention to the camera on the other side of the street? How could I possibly be such a gigantic idiot that I didn't check how many friends the bastard had before I took him out for a snack? If his little friend hadn't been in a hurry to find him, there wouldn't have been a single problem. But then he came after his bestie, I killed him, and now I'm sitting in a fucking interrogation room, handcuffed to a table. Of course, no one said a word about what was going to happen, they took care of my injuries and transported me here in careful silence, I suspect in order to unsettle me and to make me agree as willingly as possible to whatever stupid offer they have in store for me. And as sickening as it is to admit it, they are not far from succeeding.

It was clear from the first moment after I woke up that they do not intend to throw me in prison or execute me, because then they wouldn’t have wrapped my injuries in gauze with such tenderness, and my pretty little body in a foreign uniform. Of course, I should be happy that my earthly career does not end so abruptly and early, but I know very well that if anyone walks through the door of the room and makes any "offer", I won’t be in any position to refuse. From here, the road only leads to an even deeper sea of shit. And now, for the first time, I regret that my lust for blood won and I hunted someone down because of it. I would have been better off tossing and turning in my bed, on the verge of unconsciousness. Then the ticking of the fucking clock wouldn't drive me crazy.

But before I could drive myself deeper into madness, the white door in front of me opens with a soft creak, and I stop my restless legs and straighten up in my chair with my light eyes on the arriving stranger. A woman in her forties enters the room, her hair resting in a neat bun on the back of her head, her hard gaze directed at me only shaded by her light locks. Her face says nothing as she looks at me while closing the door behind her, but it's very clear from her firm steps that she doesn't see me as a threat. And why would she? I’m like a snake whose venomous teeth have been pulled out.

My tongue unconsciously runs along the sharp curve of my canines, and it still fills me with a sense of loss that I'm not feeling the cheap plastic of artificial teeth. Perhaps the confiscation of the tools that served as my disguise affected me even more sensitively than my capture. By the time I woke up, both my contact lenses and veneers were gone, and I felt naked and defenseless for the first time in years. I’m not ashamed of any of my physical features, even those that are characteristics of my kind, but I hate that this intimate secret of mine has become a public spectacle and information. But after all, that's what happens when one plays with fire. When you burn yourself, your own misery hurts all the more.

Of course, I can't deny that it filled me with morbid joy when the doctors or the enforcers carefully avoided my gaze after they recognized the meaning of my vertical pupils. I prefer to feel like a predator than a prey. Even if here and now the reality couldn’t be further from it.

"Good afternoon, Miss Woods. How was your sleep?" The woman inquires comfortably, her voice surprisingly pleasant and warm, despite the serious expression on her features. A small ironic smile tugs at the corners of my mouth involuntarily, because I find it extremely comical how she starts with the kind of conversation normal between two neighbors when she’s about to interrogate me. I guess this will be the good cop, bad cop lineup. I just have to wait for the bad cop to appear now.

"Great. Thank whoever shot me with the splendid narcotic on my behalf. I haven't rested this well in years. " I comment while I keep a close eye on every little movement the woman makes in the meantime, searching for any sign that could lead to more information.

"Don't worry, you will have the opportunity to do it yourself." She answers, and I don't like the way an inexplicably sweet expression appears on her face, which makes my eyes narrow in suspicion. "My name is Kate Laswell. I'd like to say I'm glad to meet you, but I suspect it wouldn't be mutual." She continues, taking a seat across from me and placing a thick folder on the table. I take a quick glance at it, and just one look at the logo on it is enough for me to know that this lady did not come from the official government agencies. And this fills me with mixed feelings at best, because no privately owned organization that cooperates with enforcers has a good reputation, neither in this colony nor in the other fifty-seven remaining in the world. Because they are the ones who usually go on missions from which people return in several pieces. IF they return.

When she gets no reaction from me to her statement, she just opens the heavy file with a tired sigh to reveal such a quantity of documents that makes me wonder how much information the enforcers have collected about me in such a short time. It's clear that she's familiar with every detail that’s in it, yet she skims through the first couple of pages one last time, only to then lean forward in her chair with her eyes raised to me.

"I don't want to waste time, so I'll get straight to the point." She interlocks her fingers together on the table, giving the impression that what she is about to say is of great importance, which I do not doubt. "You have concealed your status as an Extreme Healer until now, which is not only illegal but also dangerous. Presumably, similarly to the current case, you illegally fed on civilians on several occasions, knowing that you could only officially do so under the supervision of Hunters and with their help. You refused your duty to Colony No. 17 and failed to fulfill your responsibilities as a Healer, thus hindering the work of the official bodies and the Hunters, which protect the colony. On top of all that, you committed murder and violence against official personnel. And there is reason to assume that it was not the first time."

"You summed it up quite nicely." I add appreciatively because I’m completely aware of the meaning behind every single word she uttered. I chose this path consciously and I have not regretted for a minute the freedom I have enjoyed because of it. She doesn't seem amused by the lightheartedness with which I responded to my criminal record, her face furrows in worry as she draws her elegant eyebrows together.

"Miss Wood, I wouldn't take these accusations lightly if I were you." She warns me sternly, with the same tone one would reprimand a messy child. There's an edge to her voice that tells me she's experienced in giving orders and is used to disciplining unruly elements like me.

"I’m not. But I won't argue with the facts." I shrug, leaning back in my chair because at this point I've given up on trying to put on any of my masks. This woman would probably see right through it anyway. Because she's been analyzing me in the same exact way I've been examining her ever since she came here.

Short silence settles in the room as we stare at each other, and I'm waiting for her to finally stop beating around the bush and blurt out the real reason behind her arrival. Reviewing my past actions served no other purpose than to clarify what cards she had to corner me. Under normal circumstances, everyone would be shocked when their lies and misdeeds are exposed and they are openly confronted with the skeletons hiding in their closet. But it doesn't affect me. Every day and minute, I was fully aware of every risk and sin. And they were all surprisingly easy to live with after a while.

"In this situation, unfortunately, you don't have much choice regarding the future." She breaks the silence and continues to keep her eyes on mine, and with this, she silently tells me that I better pay attention to what she’s about to say. I'll give her my full attention in return because ever since my fucking eyes opened in this damned place, I've been waiting for someone to fill me in about what's next. The insecurity burns me now more than any crime I had ever committed, the feeling of uncertainty akin to a rusty knife twisting into my skull, digging deeper and deeper into my brain. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it. You have two options. Based on the charges listed against you, one of them is execution." She attacks right away, and I feel the air stuck inside of my lungs almost painfully because I know that this would be the easier solution. This would be the logical, orderly, and fast route that I would deserve, and which might seem better than the other option. But I won't choose that. And she knows that exactly.

"And what would be the other option?" I inquire, and I hate how the barely perceptible, ridiculously faint fear moves into my voice, which no one else would be able to pick up, but I know from the expression on the woman's face that I’m not able to fool her.

"You join Liquidation Unit 141 as a member and official Healer to pay for his crimes." She strikes mercilessly and immediately hits the target because I freeze in silence and stare at her, like someone who’s seen a ghost. Of course, it would be foolish to say that I didn't know this was coming, but as her words fully sink in, the whole situation suddenly becomes reality. Even I am surprised by how, despite the gloominess of the situation, I burst out laughing, and I wonder if maybe I still have some of the drugs they used to knock me out in my bloodstream. The development of the events leading up to this moment seems so ironic, that just because I couldn't control my fucking hunger and chose dinner from the wrong menu, now all my efforts have been in vain. Because some stupid bastard was worried about his buddy and because karma put the only camera on the street that takes a sharp picture. Everything I've been trying so desperately to avoid is happening. What fucking luck I have.

"What’s your answer?" Comes the question from the woman, but I know that it doesn't matter what I say. Because we both know I'm not crazy and brave enough to choose death. I am selfish, and I would rather cling to life, no matter how sinister and unfavorable the future may seem. Because as long as I live, I have a chance to escape. Until I don't die, I have the possibility to be free again.

"I hope you won't regret this deal, Laswell." I speak up finally, and I don't need to explain any further for her to know what decision I have reached. "Because I've been on my best behavior until now. I'm not sure I'll continue to feel the urge to be a good girl." I lean forward, pulling my lips into a dark little grin, because the pride in me won't let me appear crushed and desperate as I go down and get defeated. And since she seems like a decent woman, I'll be fair. Better to warn her that it won't be an easy ride if it's up to me.

But when a knowing smile curls onto her lips, and for a minute I regret that I tried to provoke her. Because a chill runs down my spine from the unrecognizable sparkle that appears in her blue eyes.

"Don’t worry. I expected this and you will be in very good hands."

⃰*

If I had first doubted whether Laswell's threat was empty, I was now sure that she had no intention of leaving up to chance how well I would behave. With a frustrated sigh, I try to wrestle myself into a slightly more comfortable position in the back seat of the jeep, but it’s rather difficult because with my hands cuffed behind my back, no situation seems less uncomfortable than the previous one.

I might consider it a little excessive that she incapacitated me to such a degree, but I have to admit that I gave her a reason to be uncertain about my intention to cooperate. Of course, despite this, the mask that tightly covers my mouth, which ensured my silence from the start, still seems a little ridiculous. What did she believe? That I going to throw myself at her and rip her throat out? She should know that my kind doesn't bite just on a whim, because it is such an intimate and dangerous moment that I have rarely been willing to do in my life so far. It leaves an easily recognizable mark, but it isn't my first choice because of its other unpleasant side effects either. And now I can't let my guard down because of said side effects. It's not worth it all.

The whole journey passes quietly, which gives me enough time to reflect on the recent events. After our small talk, Laswell got into the car without wasting another word, stating that the sooner I got to my new home, the better for everyone. I managed to find out that the base where her unit was supposed to be stationed was located outside the colony, which immediately made me wonder how much better it would be for me to find myself outside the walls of the well-protected and secured city. But luckily, the woman was kind enough to reassure me that there was nothing to worry about, the base is in the yellow zone, so even though we have to venture outside the colony, the chance of mutants appearing is very small. And anyway. Her people have everything under control, there is not the slightest reason for concern.

It is really not that easy to explain this to someone who was already born in the green zone that provides security and has never left it. After all, you can hear nothing else from the radio, other than cautious warnings telling the residents not to leave the walls protecting the city, because only certain death awaits there. Of course, realistically, I know that the yellow zone is still close enough that there is little risk of attacks, but it is also close enough to the orange and red zones that the possibility of danger is not zero. And if the chance is not zero, it is not certain.

The car comes to a slow halt and that disturbs me from my musings, and as I look out the windshield window and see the long line of walls bordered by barbed wire, the nervousness caused by the hopeless situation that I thought had left my body awakens in me. But it seems that there are still enough surprises for me to get excited about. Hooray!

We arrive at the facility's only entrance, and after a brief greeting and presentation of Laswell's identification card to the guards, she drives on, and an almost irritatingly bubbly and busy-looking base opens up in front of me, and I wonder how many people do they want to entrust to my care. But after the first glance, I can tell that a significant portion of the soldiers are not Hunters, because they look too human and weak for that, and they lack the dangerous aura that can only be a characteristic of a Hunter. It's not like I've met that many Hunters in my life, but everyone knows exactly by what physical characteristics can you spot the heroic vanquishers of mutant monsters right away. And after the first Hunters "awakened" fifty years ago, such an amount of data has been collected that a picture of them immediately pops into one’s head after they hear the name.

"We've arrived." Laswell suddenly steps on the brakes, and I straighten up in my seat to prepare for what will follow. I ran a few possible scenarios through my head, evaluating just how difficult this job would be considering that the only other alternative left was death. And I came to the conclusion that the only options left are those with which karma will kick me where it hurts the most. If I'm fortunate, all I have to do is tend to the Hunters' injuries and regenerate them from time to time when they get close to insanity. If I'm out of luck, they can throw anything at me from annoying to deadly. So I'm pretty sure I can't expect anything good, but maybe I can be a little grateful that I'm alive. I'm sure I'll find something sickeningly beautiful even in this miserable shit. After all, hope and the motivation to survive are the last to die.

Laswell jumps out of the car, picks up her small bag resting on the passenger seat, and steps back, and as she opens the door for me, I am almost touched by how gently she grabs my arm and tries to make it easier for me to get out of the vehicle without my hands. She's certainly not only doing it because she still harbors that small irrational fear that my stunt with the enforcers will happen again, and I skip off. Certainly not.

"My team is waiting for you inside. I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet everyone you'll be working closely with at the same time." She explains as she guides me towards the entrance of the huge building located in the middle of the base, and I decide that I will not give up my pride despite the tight spot I got myself in. I will not give anyone the pleasure of playing the role of a terrified little mouse just because I got caught in a shamefully simple manner. Therefore, I straighten my back and follow the woman with the posture of a confident bad bitch, raising my head high, throwing my brown locks back as if I had arrived at one of the red carpet events seen in the archives. After all, the soldiers loitering around stare at me as if a real star had set foot in their humble abode. And it might as well be the truth because I'm sure that even if the authorities stopped information from spreading about my fun little activities in the colony, news about me have already reached their ears. And if every wretched fool eyeballs me with such interest, I will give them the attitude that comes with this privileged position. Silly behavior, but at least guaranteed fun. And I'm afraid I'll have to entertain myself with these little pleasures for a long time.

It definitely should bother me how easily my stubbornness overcomes the fear in the pit of my stomach, but I think at this point it would be better if I let these unnecessary worries go. Because now I can't do anything else but let myself drift with the events. And there is nothing more comforting than delusional confidence. However, as soon as I get my hands on the right information, my brain can go into planning mode again, and I can start working on my escape.

The inside of the building looks like a complete maze, a long corridor after another endless one, rows of doors everywhere, and I try to look for easily identifiable reference points with furtive glances, although I assume that I will never be left unattended in the building if I just look at what precautions I have been treated with until now. It's not like I'll be able to just walk out the main entrance later, because a back exit, a hidden little window would be more suitable for my sweet escape. But unfortunately, I still have to wait for these delicacies. First, I put their suspicions to rest about the fact that these stray, sweet things even arise in my head.

Laswell suddenly stops in front of a door, and I know that now comes the main event, which makes the uncomfortable grip that is still settling in my stomach come to life again. Fixing my gaze on the back of my guide's head, I stop behind her as well, and for one last time, I repeat the mantra that has been circulating in my brain since I regained consciousness. I'll fix everything because I always have. There's no problem I can't overcome. And as the woman opens the door in front of me with a swift movement, and stands aside with a nod to indicate that I should get in, I obey and walk past her with light steps after I gain back my delusional determination from my small pep talk to myself.

I quickly scan the room, the huge screen on the wall, the large windows through which the afternoon sunlight shines warmly, and finally the huge table, at the end of which I find the people for whom I was probably brought here instead of the slaughterhouse. The door closes with a low creak after Laswell steps inside behind me, and with her hand, she gently nudges toward a chair at the other end of the table, and I lazily flop down in the crossfire of four pairs of eyes.

"You're late, Kate." Says the man sitting at the middle of the other end of the table, and as he raises his cigar to his mouth to take a puff in the most assertive way I've ever seen someone do it, the confident carelessness of a true Hunter radiates from him. But it doesn't escape my attention that the look of both interest and caution crosses his face framed by a thick beard as he studies me.

"Identification took a long time at the wall. It was not easy to bring our guest over." The woman nods her head towards me, and I only reward her explanation with a cursory glance, because she is indeed right. Everything was probably taken care of by the time we reached the gate leading out of the city, yet the soldiers standing guard there studied our documents with such fervor as if the woman wanted to smuggle something sketchy and of dubious origin. I felt sorry for her for a minute when she started a long argument with one of the guards, but this rare spark in my soul was fleeting, after all, I was much more occupied with my own misery. "Now I'm going to take off the mask and ask you not to do anything rash." Laswell turns to me, and I raise one of my eyebrows skeptically in response to her unreasonably cautious warning. Do I look like an absolute idiot to her?

As the woman reaches behind my head and begins to work on removing the mask that has been covering half my face, I take a closer look at the men sprawled at the table. Just as I could clearly tell in the courtyard that there was not a single Hunter among them, I can now state with the exact same certainty that all those present here are. At first glance, they are not just any Hunters, but all of them are at least S-class, it is enough to just observe their behavior. But as my eyes fall on one of the guys wearing a mask exuding a rather menacing and grim aura, who looks almost unbelievably huge, I realize that he must be an SSS-class big boy. In most cases, it is not possible to tell where a Hunter is between class F and A based on physical characteristics alone because over the years and with the development of their skills and their merits, they can rise between the levels. But only those who are born for it will rise to the S-class, especially to the SSS-class. There is no clear explanation as to what causes this anomaly, but the trigger of the appearance of the first infected mammalian lifeforms, or I.M.L.s, caused a stronger mutation in their case. Which made them more powerful, faster, and deadlier than their fellow Hunters. And from this sudden realization, for a moment, the wild joy I felt earlier wavers. As an Extreme I can kill with my ability, but the chances of me even laying a finger on any of them without their approval to use my little tricks is almost ridiculously low. No problem. I am here to be their Healer. And for that, they will have to let my sly little hands get close to them.

"Don't you think that you went a little bit overboard? What did you think I was going to do? That I'm going to bite someone?" I ask, squeezing every drop of irony into my voice, as the damned mask finally comes off me, and with my comment, I only get a reprimanding look from the woman.

"You’re here ’cause you’ve already done it, aren’t ya?" Comes the teasing question from one of the Hunters, and as I look toward him, somewhat of an eerie feeling starts to dawn in the hidden corners of my memories, as I run my eyes along his features. I would certainly remember it if I ever had the bad luck to meet a Hunter with a mohawk. Or any S-class Hunter for that matter.

"There's some truth to it. But I don't bite, I cut." I note cheekily, twisting my lips into a sarcastic little smile that has been waiting to appear ever since I set foot on the base. Of course, I know that I shouldn't provoke men who not only look dangerous, but undoubtedly are, but what are they going to do to me? In order for them to be able to use me, they need me mostly unharmed. Laswell, who may be in some leadership role, however strict she may appear, will not let them harm the new acquisition if she has gone through all the trouble to get it.

"You’ve already met Hunter MacTavish." Laswell motions her head towards the guy who is verbally trying me, and suddenly I get the feeling, like when the last missing piece of a puzzle falls into place and the picture gets complete. I immediately realize why his heavily accented voice sounds familiar, and as the recognition dawns on me, my face involuntarily breaks into a wide grin.

"You're the bastard who shot me!" The remark breaks out of me, and I can't understand why this causes me such joy. The fact that I'm in the same room as the person who's probably been tailing me since the very first moment after my slip-up just confirms the fact that Laswell tried to get a hold of me the minute the DNA test results were fresh and crisp. What could be the special extra problem with this team that makes them need a Healer so urgently? One, moreover, whom they are willing to save for themselves despite her status as a proven criminal. Interesting.

"I'm glad to meet you awake." The Hunter named MacTavish nods his head at me, with a grin on his face that makes me rightly assume that I'm not the only one who finds the situation morbidly intriguing.

"It reassures me that I didn't stand a chance. At least I don't have to lament on what would have happened if I managed to run off." I shrug as I lean back in my chair as far as my still shackled hands will allow. I'm serious about my little remark because it's now clear that I had no chance of escaping from the beginning. It's not like I had any brilliant ideas in case I managed to succeed, but would've found some clever solution.

"Don't even think about that now." Suggests Laswell, and for a moment she looks really worn out as she leans on the table with one palm and turns to my small audience. "We should rather spend our energy on getting to know each other. It's better to get over it as soon as possible. From left to right, Simon “Ghost” Riley." Begins Laswell, and then points to the man sitting on the far left of the table with her hand, who looks at me with his dark eyes so penetratingly that it gives me a visceral and instinctive feeling that something sinister is lurking behind his skull mask."John "Soap" MacTavish." For a change, the woman introduces my captor again, and the man continues to grin at me in an annoyingly good mood. "Our unit's captain, John Price." Laswell points to the guy with the cigar, who continues to puff, studying me, as if this situation were an everyday affair around here. "Kyle “Gaz” Garrick." Said person just greets me with a curt nod and looks at my modest person with cautious curiosity.

After lining up her small team, Laswell finally takes a seat at the table, with her job momentarily done, and from the bag she was carrying, she takes out the file again with which she had already delighted me earlier. However, instead of going through it probably for the thousandth time, she delivers it to the Hunters who are patiently waiting across the table with a firm push.

"Although I have already informed the team in broad terms about your situation, for the sake of completeness, I would like them to familiarize themselves with your material in detail. After all, you will be working with them from now on." The woman reminds me, and I pull the corner of my mouth with complete indifference as if this wasn't something that would determine the further development of my life. However, no matter how relaxed I may seem when each man takes out a page from my file and studies it with ever-deepening gloom, the restlessness in me stirs up again, which pushes my heart rate to unpleasant heights. If it didn't bother me before, how Laswell delved into the many misdeeds I'd committed, now it bothers me just as much as these dangerous strangers review the report that surely goes into every essential detail of my life. And maybe that's because while I was sure that I could take care of the woman at any time if the need arose, revealing my secrets would only put me at a disadvantage with those whose craft is killing. Up until now, I wanted to believe that they would still have blind spots regarding me because obviously, not a soul knows about the level to which I have developed my ability, but it is enough to focus on the furrowed brows of their captain, and it becomes painfully obvious that this futile hope of mine is about to come crashing down. Because this guy seems experienced enough to know when to dig deeper for answers.

A short but no less suffocating silence settles in the room, and to my surprise, Laswell seems much more worried than I am, although I'm sure that of the two of us, I have more reason to be on pins and needles. This again makes me wonder about what kind of unit it can be, where such detailed information is needed about a simple Healer, who in theory won't be responsible for anything other than nicely replenishing and pampering the Hunters when they drift to the brink of unquenchable aggression and bloodlust due to the exhaustion of their strength. You'd think it's a position that would require some reasonable attention, but not nearly as much as these five men are giving me right now.

"How did you manage to kill the victim found in the alley?" The captain asks, and I’ve almost waited in anticipation for him to start the interview. And after mentioning the incident, I'm overwhelmed with annoyance yet again. Of course, his interest is justified, because Healers cannot kill people, and according to general belief, neither can Extremes. But despite the fact that he asked this question out of curiosity for my nice little attraction, it still reminds me of the mistake that can only be attributed to my own feeble stupidity.

"I'm sure the autopsy provides enough information." I nudge my head at the stack of papers in front of him with a telling smile, and the man's eyes just narrow with beginning irritation at my answer. I don't really want to give out the rather sensitive data with which I still have a chance to surprise them, but I'm not so stupid to not know that the relatively friendly atmosphere can quickly take a strange turn if I don't start talking. I have no illusions that they can get what they want to know out of me if they want to. "I increased the pressure in his brain and caused him to have a seizure combined with a stroke, in which he died." I summarize briefly and to the point, and as they suddenly look at each other with a mixture of incomprehension and surprise, my twisted little soul fills with pride. Of course, I've never had the chance to brag to anyone about how I managed to perfect my skills through hard work and experimentation over the years, but deep inside, a pleasant warmth moves in my chest to see their jaws drop. Even though they will most certainly not let me near their body without increased supervision now.

"I thought Extremes were just Healers on steroids and were only capable of healing wounds and recharge Hunters." Garrick frowns in bewilderment, and his comment reflects the thoughts of his companions as well. It seems that even the well-informed Laswell is surprised by this newly discovered bit of information because her eyes meet with the captain's for a fleeting glance, and to me, this is just enough evidence that my dangerousness may not have been properly assessed by them. Of course, they could have thought that I couldn't be completely harmless based on the way I left the poor bastards behind the club.

"It's true for an average Healer." I lean forward with a mysterious smile because I would be in denial if I claimed that I don't gain any satisfaction from being able to momentarily shake such highly esteemed men out of their composure. I could be called an evil little pervert or a sneaky little bitch, but such small moments in life should be appreciated. "But in the case of people like me, the advantages also increase along with the disadvantages concerning nutrition." I sit back, as carelessly as if I wasn't still the biggest loser in the whole story. However, the fact that I managed to provide them with something unexpected does not mean anything. Because I just gave them one more reason, in addition to the countless other ones so far, to keep me on a short leash. I'm pretty sure I won't even be able to breathe innocently enough for them from now on. But if my freedom is already lost, let me at least have my petty joy.

"Would you elaborate?" Says Laswell, and I wasn't wrong in that she can hand out orders like a pro because the words uttered as a request sound more like an instruction. And before I speak, I contemplate how much detail I should go into. But considering that they already know how cleverly I can eliminate someone, there's not much point in hiding the details, because they'll figure out on their own that I can probably attempt more cunning magic tricks than this. And maybe it's better not to leave it up to chance because I have the sneaking suspicion that the more I leave everything to their imagination, the less time I will have to spend unsupervised from now on. And I don't like to give up my me-time.

"In an ideal case, even an average Healer is able to heal only by localizing injuries instead of full regeneration or regulating the energy they use to treat Hunters. Of course, they don't really like to teach this, because then, God forbid, they wouldn't be able to change the Healers every month, because they would be able to do their job more efficiently." I begin my little lesson, and I see how just by stating a simple fact I am straying into very dangerous territory, because the atmosphere of the room cools down in a minute, despite the heat of the incoming sun rays. It immediately becomes obvious that similar problems arise here as well. And suddenly I understand why they needed an Extreme with much higher endurance if the Healers are probably changed here as frequently as dirty underwear.

The generally negligent treatment of Healers and their lack of proper training is a sensitive topic for everyone involved, which both the Hunters and the government have tended to sweep under the rug ever since the entire system was set in place. And even though there are very few Hunters and half as many Healers, somehow no one is bothered by the fact that this is not a very successful story. That's why I've tried to remain invisible until now and to hide in the utmost secrecy because I knew that as soon as I immersed myself in this vaguely bubbling mess, I'd immediately be dragged up to my neck in it. Because it doesn't matter that I will last a somewhat longer, I doubt that they will appreciate me more.

"In the case of Extremes, I can only speak for myself. If I use my energy, I can accurately feel every organ, every muscle, bone, and every tiny vein, and control the flow, pressure, and density of the blood. Not only in Hunters." I continue my presentation, and the people present in the room show increasing degrees of surprise. "Of course, I can also use my energy to a greater extent than average Healers, for general and more complicated healing and regeneration. But perhaps everyone already knew this about my kind." I continue my explanation further, at the end of which I came close to the effect I hoped to achieve. Because I can see that I shut the words into them, if only for a minute, and this leaves me enough time to further study their reaction and wonder what they will do with the revealed information. And I don't have to be disappointed, because Price quickly adjusts his features and returns to the position that suggests that whatever happens, the control remains in his hands. How sad that my joy is always so short-lived.

"This is good news. We’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time." The captain folds his hands in front of his chest after briefly processing what he heard, and now it's my turn to carefully narrow my eyes. It's hard for me to imagine a reason that would make them believe that it's good news that they have to put their hands near a person who just turned out to be able to kill them in that exact way. "Based on experience so far, the unit's work has proven to be too dangerous for other Healers. I was afraid that we might have to deal with the same problem, but now we know, there is no need to fret. This makes field work child's play." He outlines the situation, and there is nothing sweet or charming in the smile he pulls on his lips. My fists clench nervously behind my back because I don't like it one bit that the confidence I want to feel the most radiates back from the man. Nevertheless, I hold his gaze, my mouth in a mocking smirk as I cock my head to the side because, even though they are slowly cornering me, I am not willing to back down with my tail between my legs. It's a bit like a dick-measuring contest because even though I don't have the necessary equipment, Price still wants to make it clear to me that no matter how sneaky I think I am, he’s the one calling the shots here. And that makes hot rage bubbling up inside me because I suspect that his promise is not an unfounded and empty threat and he really has such excitement in store for me. Healers aren't usually sent out into the field because it's more important for them to remain in one piece at least as long as their duties are fulfilled, but these people aren't scared that I’m made out of glass. Flattering.

"I look forward to receiving the honor." I reply, and I try to force all the calmness and false kindness into my voice. And the captain seems quite amused by this, and for some reason, I'm not thrilled that he doesn't take me seriously enough. Which of course is completely understandable, because we all know that as soon as I try something funny, they could kill me immediately. And the fact that this is so obvious to everyone only makes me even more furious.

"Of course, this will not happen just yet. The boys will give you training beforehand to help you get prepared for fieldwork. Since the unit does not only deal with the protection of the colony but also carries out special liquidation and crime prevention activities in several areas, you will need special training. For your safety, of course." Laswell interrupts our little banter, and my eyebrows rise to my hairline at this statement. I'm not crazy about the idea of being dragged on monster-infested trips by these so-called human tanks, but this idea and explanation might be even less to my liking. At least a thousand different situations appear in my mind about what funny and extremely deadly excitement Laswell's little team gets involved in, which does not bode well for me, to put it mildly. Until now, I knew that private units and squads were always involved in something nebulous and questionable if not outright deadly deals, but the fact that I just had to end up with one that, according to them, specializes in getting their hands dirty, squeezing my stomach like a lemon.

As the dream of my Healer position, which is relatively tolerable and definitely conducive to escape, begins to disintegrate before my eyes, I start to get more and more nervous. Of course, I should be happy that perhaps during the training I might acquire skills that will increase the probability of me being able to disappear at the first opportunity, like the father who went down to get milk. But I know very well that this will be more of a survival test and a cabaret than sincere help. I understand why it's good to be close at hand when shit hits the fan, but what the hell are these weapon-laden, super-fast, super-strong, super-whatever professional killing machines doing if I'm forced to huddle next to them like a squire? Why don't they just bring themselves back in one piece while I comfortably wait for them here?

"Don't worry, love, we'll be careful not to harm ya!" MacTavish grins widely, showing all his teeth, and I suddenly feel an irresistible desire to try to throw myself at him and strangle him despite my handcuffs. Because now he's clearly having fun at my expense, along with his stupid captain, and I'm cursing myself more and more for even thinking that fate would spare me. Of course, there was no doubt that they would want to use me as intended, but I didn't expect that they would find creative ways to make my life difficult. But, right, those who are stupid should die, those who have hope and may even be presumptuous should accept that others will mop the floors with them. Because I have no doubt that they will.

"Since you will be performing Healer duties to all four of our Hunters, therefore, of course, they all participate in your training. This will at least give you a chance to get used to the team better." Laswell continues her explanation, and as I grasp what this will mean for me, for the first time, my mood becomes genuinely sullen and a sour taste fills my mouth. My mind is slowly starting to process the situation, and now I can see exactly what kind of predicament I'm in. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be unthinkable for a Healer to take care of several Hunters, but since they are not trained for efficient energy management, they quickly reach their tolerance limit. So, in most cases, a Healer can take on a maximum of two Hunters, and they can only manage to do this if they're treated with a very gracious attitude, and if of course none of their little clients are ranked S or higher. And now these people seize the opportunity, and they throw all four tough guys at me, who I will cheerfully accompany to wherever their heroic adventures will take them after they give me lessons on how to take care of myself. I can safely assume that Laswell was on the lookout for years for an Extreme who can handle all of this, who due to their self-healing skill has very little chance of dying when her little boys drag them into a bloodbath. So, all this big fuss happened because her team wasn't able to take care of their toys that well until now. Their Healers at best became useless if not died, either during a mission or due to the high energy demand of healing injuries or regeneration. Of course, it's not surprising, because Healers are not designed for this action-packed lifestyle. "Of course, if a life-threatening injury were to occur in the case of soldiers occupying other positions in the unit, then you must take care of them as well."

I'm not even surprised by this addition, because it almost dwarfs what was outlined for me. I study the Hunters again involuntarily, and I can't shake the thought creeping into my skull on slimy and disgusting legs that this unit specializes in even riskier missions than what Laswell disclosed. Even government-run liquidation units sometimes get involved in crime prevention, but in none of these cases do the Hunters go on missions that are so long-winded or perilous that a Healer needs to be present to immediately patch up the little heroes. That's why I have mixed feelings about the suggestion that I'll get involved in potentially fatal adventures in the future, and this finally puts an honest seriousness on my face. Regardless of what I theorized as a possible outcome when Laswell first appeared in front of me, I think it's time that if the promise of a livable life is gone, I do something to at least make sure my chances of survival don't end up the same. Here, Leona, you ran away from your supposed duties for more than ten years, and now you are being chased into the dick-forest with your mouth open. Make sure you at least enjoy it.

"Marvellous. But I hope everyone is also aware that in order to perform this honorable task well, I will need blood." I warn Laswell, because at this point I feel that subtlety is unnecessary, and at least something beneficial should come out of all of this shitshow for me as well. And before the aforementioned could intervene, I flash my sharp gaze at her. "It's not optional, it's a fairly well-known fact. If I don't get blood, I won't be able to use my ability. And for a party of this caliber, I need more than just a taster. But liters."

"You don't have to worry about that. Now that you're here, you can officially feed under supervision." Laswell reassures me, and for some reason, in addition to the relief, I still have the feeling that this sounds much simpler than what it actually will be.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of ya'! " MacTavish speaks up again joining my encouragement, and it starts to become clear that the guy has a comment about everything, which he likes to let out every chance he gets. But he seems to be the one who gives me the least cause for concern, and who does not seem the one who intends to unnecessarily complicate my existence. How kind of him to reassure me many times that I didn't walk into a den full of wolves. The little liar.

"Great. Now that we've laid out the groundwork, let's talk about the details." Laswell begins with her formal tone again, and I, suppressing a tired sigh, fight my way into a more comfortable position, preparing to take in all further crap that is rolled in my direction. However, my light eyes are inevitably drawn back to the Hunters, who are currently occupying every one of my brain cells capable of thinking. And as my gaze meets that of the masked man, who has been silent since the beginning of the discussion, but no less threatening, the woman's voice fades into a monotonous murmur in my ears. Even though at first glance I thought that all Hunters exuded the same sinister and heavy aura equally, I soon had to realize that there was much more hidden in the dark eyes that shone behind the mask. Just a few seconds of Riley's undivided attention is enough, and I feel the little hairs on my back rise instinctively. Because it becomes quite obvious that he is a true predator and sees me as nothing more than his prey. And if he promises one thing right now, it's that he'll do everything to make sure I don't forget this wandering silent warning.

[sanakotsu]

Romantic? Date Translation

Quantified Feelings of Love and Hate/Chapter 6

Writer: Akira Season: Winter Characters: Mayoi, Tatsumi, Kohaku

Translation: Sankotsu Proofread: @boozuru

Mayoi: But when I saw Tatsumi, I immediately felt all my worries disappear! As expected, Tatsumi-san is a saint who is always saving someone like me!

Kohaku: Uh, so.

All of us are here to help HiMERU-han?

Hm~ I guess it’s because we had an easier time with yesterday’s shoot compared to those two.

Mayoi: ...

Kohaku: Can someone respond already? I’m getting lonely from how much it feels like I’m talking to myself.

Mayoi: Oh, um, yes! I apologize! Anzu-san sure is quiet!

Since you’re such a skilled producer, there should be no problem with you acting as a superior and giving orders!

Kohaku: And? You’ve been acting suspiciously. Plus you haven’t contributed to this conversation at all and you’re just slowly slipping away.

It must be because you don’t want to help your friend Tatsumi-han, or even the heinous Crazy:B.

Mayoi: I would never! I don’t see Crazy:B that way at all! In fact, I feel as though we’re peas of a pod since our units debuted at the same time…!

Kohaku: I see. Well, that’s troublesome. I know I’m contradicting myself, but you shouldn’t try to get all buddy-buddy with us.

Mayoi: I, um, was actually hoping to get closer to you on a personal level since it would be terrible of me to hurt you

Kohaku: …? I don’t know what you’re going on about but let’s get along at least for this job. Here, let’s shake hands~♪

Mayoi: Kyaaaaaa?!

Kohaku: …Jeez, that scared me. Why are you yelling all of a sudden?

Mayoi: I’m sorry for catching you off guard! My heart and mind were colliding and made a metallic sound!

Kohaku: Your heart is made of metal?

Mayoi: The impulsive thoughts that wanted to go rampant were being held back by my logic that I call restraint! It’s still unreliable and weak though…!

Kohaku: You're unexpectedly a weird guy, I can’t even keep a conversation with you. Didn’t you have an easy time yesterday when you were paired with Niki-han?

So you are someone who can do it if he tries.

Mayoi: It’s not that. I don’t even know why we got the OK yesterday! That’s why I don’t know what to do now that I’m paired with Tatsumi-san…!

Tatsumi: ...

Mayoi: Ah, Tatsumi-san! Tatsumi-sa~n! It’s Mayoi…! It was difficult to talk to these people I don’t know very well while walking with them!

But when I saw Tatsumi, I immediately felt all my worries disappear! As expected, Tatsumi-san is a saint who is always saving someone like me...!

Tatsumi: Mayoi-san…Anzu-san, Kohaku-san. Good morning everyone.

Kohaku: Oh, good morning. Hm? Wasn’t HiMERU-han with you?

Tatsumi: (Sigh) We ran into a bit of trouble.

Mayoi: (Uu… I want to hide behind Tatsumi-san! I want to be enveloped by the kindness and warmth he radiates from his whole being!)

(But if I were to move right now, I’m sure it would look suspicious…!)

Tatsumi: Is something wrong, Mayoi-san? You’re fidgeting.

Speaking of which, even though we were told in advance, you really did get someone to help us, Anzu-san.

Kohaku: What do you mean?

Tatsumi: Um, well. As you may be aware, yesterday our pair—HiMERU and Tatsumi Kazehaya—were struggling and couldn’t get a single good take.

So in the end, we couldn’t complete our job.

Kohaku: It sure looked like it. We didn’t know what HiMERU-han was so embarrassed since he didn’t want to tell us anything.

Tatsumi: Fufu. His pride gets in the way of consulting his friends for help.

As for me, I told ALKALOID everything yesterday.

Mayoi: You sound…oddly happy to say that…?

Tatsumi: Fufu. That’s because if there’s something you can’t do, it means there’s still room for you to grow.

It’s especially important for ALKALOID to know because I’m often seen as “the big brother who can seemingly do everything” with them.

I feel better knowing that they understand that’s not how I actually am.

Mayoi: Uu…too bright… You’re so optimistic, Tatsumi-san. Even when you’re having problems or feeling worried, you never let it show. Ah…I want to rely on you…!

Kohaku: But isn’t this situation technically not your guys’ fault? It’s all up to the higher-ups on whether or not they say a take is good.

Tatsumi: Yes. This troublesome situation was unexpected. Even with all the time we had yesterday, we got nowhere despite our best efforts.

So we decided to consult Anzu-san yesterday since we realized our efforts alone wouldn’t be enough to get over this hurdle.

We’re grasping at straws not knowing what to do.

❀ ꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎ ❀

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[myhappyexobubble]

EXO Fandom - Part 1 - FanFics

I was talking to a coworker a few days ago about K-Pop. They asked me who my favorite band was and it was simple to say, “EXO. I love their songs. I’ve watched them over several years...” and I realized I was giving such a generalized easy answer to something that is so incredibly complicated. No, I didn’t dive in further in that conversation but my mind continued to churn over why I love EXO and why I’ve loved them for so long.

The answer is multifaceted but my mind dove so far into it that I felt compelled to talk about it to whoever would listen. So, let me start at the basics.

If we look at Exo at the time of their MAMA, History, and Wolf release time frames then the answer is adorably cute guys singing romantically driven songs. They debuted with fictional powers and a sense of mystery. Who doesn’t love a good fantasy and wrapped up in a music group? The fan fiction that has poured out of this fanbase is the factual evidence as to why this was such a good concept to debut with.

At the time of Exo’s first year or two, I was personally dealing with a separation. It was my first relationship, first intimate relationship, and I was so completely depressed. I was introduced to EXO at the time History came out. It was an easy sell to me, but what really took me down the rabbit hole of the fandom was being recommended to read some fan fics. The fandom had already blown up with incredible stories. If you have been an EXOL back when we called ourselves Exotics then you probably have heard of or read a handful of some very famous fanfics. Were you a ChanBaek fan and read 10080? Not Intended? The Letter? Did you deep dive into Interrobang? Revolution? Did you ever run across Inner Child (god do I have withdrawals from being unable to find that fic anymore)? These are titles that I can remember off the top of my head but I have accounts with endless bookmarked stories. The truly amazing part of this was if you read a fan fic and then watched Exo in a reality show or on an interview, authors had been able to truly capture the member’s on-screen personalities. You could read a fic and then watch how members teased each other and there would be exact parallels. I truly believe that the fandom is not only creative but so very keenly observant.

If you wrote fanfics in those early days that dealt with powers, wolf pack dynamics, 6 rotating variations of shipped pairs then you were probably instrumental in helping this fan not only distract herself from an ugly separation but ignite a personal and sexual awakening. There were topics in fanfics that I’d never even heard of, prompting endless research and conversations with others to truly understand relationship dynamics. This was such a motivating time of awakening for me that I also began to write fictions and quickly came up with the “MyHappyExoBubble” name to capture this secret world where I was motivated and happy when I wasn’t sinking in my day-to-day life. In fact, most people knew me from fan fiction stories before I ever moved on to doing fanart (which I will conquer in a different post).

My motivation to write was centered around having found so many good story ideas but that were written poorly and were difficult to read. No, I never took an idea and wrote it myself, but I did start to come up with ideas that I would never publish if the writing wasn’t decent. I’m not an English major, nor do I pretend to have flawless grammar. I just wanted more stories that could be read without bad translations or under-developed writing skills. Unfortunately, at this time, I do have a few unfinished fics that have gathered dust online and I do apologize for that.

The result of finding such a rich community of fan fiction has been instrumental (as weird as that may sound) in my growth as an adult. When I finally moved on to a new relationship, the intimacies that were destroyed by my ex had been re-worked, explored, defined, and I knew what kind of intimacy I wanted and was accepting of. My writing skills had improved with practice. I can storyboard, brainstorm, character develop and truly express in written word what is going on in my head. I cannot look back in time and say that something else wouldn’t have taken me down this road, but the fandom did, thanks to EXO. This is one of the many reasons why I will forever have EXO listed as my favorite K-pop group.

*If you would like to talk to me about any of this, feel free to message me. I’ve been on a therapy journey recently and while I have not talked about my alter-ego within the fandom with my therapist at this time, I can’t stop thinking about it. :) 

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 8: Mind Your Language

You have words! And immediate bad news!

On AO3. Rated M for language and violence.

“Are you sure it’s working correctly?” Goth Girl says.

“For the price I paid, I certainly hope so,” Mumu says.

You hear the words. Not as they are, but their meaning. Like an overlay voiceover of original dialogue that British documentaries like to do.

“Say something else,” Fancy Pants says in an absolute goblin tone.

You sniff noxious fumes, blow your nose again. The taste of burning dirt lingers in your mouth like grease coating your teeth.

“Y’all can understand me?” you say.

Mumu’s face lights up. “Yes! Yes we can! Hello! So nice to finally be able to communicate with our mysterious traveling companion.”

Mysterious. What you are is lost, dazed, and in desperate need of a toothbrush.

“Sorry for the swearing,” you say. The words form on your tongue in English. Leave your lips as English. And twist their shape in midair before they reach the others.

“No apologies needed, my friend. I myself can rather attest to the affront to the senses that is the Potion of Tongues. I am glad to see it’s worked, though I am sorry it took me so long to realize this particular cure to your ailment; Wither’s commentary was the last piece of the puzzle.”

Your eyes still water. You squint at him as the speech assembles in your brain.

“Withers?” you say.

“Our good friend over there.” He gestures to Jerky Man. Whose actual name isn’t much better.

“Right.”

“So. Another dimension, eh?” Mumu says. “I suppose the mindflayer nautiloid did travel extensively.”

You’re trying to come up with some sort of answer to the first part, catch the word “mindflayer,” and all that extra thought grinds to a halt. “Wait, what? The hell is that?”

“The tentacled monsters that snatched us,” Goth Girl pipes in. “Is that not what your people call them?”

…what. Wait. Squidward isn’t an alien to them. They know of them?

“No. I don’t…none of this is anything I’ve ever had to deal with.”

Keep it simple for now. Hide the full extent of your ignorance. You have to be useful to these people. If you become a problem or a drag, they can cut you out. You have no friends, no family, no…no culture here. You can’t even talk to anyone without Mumu’s charity (potion). You need to make allies. You need to make them your allies, and that means shrinking yourself, taking all your weirdness and loudness and folding it small and shoving it into a box.

It tastes like swallowing that potion again, burning down your throat to boil your gut. You won the right to be weird and loud. To have opinions. To flail and bitch and be dramatic. It took fucking years to dredge up all of what makes you actually you. But you can’t be that here. You have to be quiet and calm. Be docile and small. Fade into the background.

For a second, the nasty little thought pops up: maybe you should have sat back down on that beach.

But no. No. You’ve put too much work in to lie down and die. This will be temporary. You’ll make sure of that. Just until you can learn enough to secure yourself a place here. Until you can build the skills or the good feelings or hell, the money to be able to protect yourself. You can do this.

“I take it mindflayers aren’t a common occurrence in your, erm, realm?” Mumu says. He’s totally fishing.

Calm and quiet and perhaps a bit simple.

“Eh, not really?” you say. “I ain’t any kinda scholar or whatsit. I’m just an office clerk. I file paperwork, mostly.”

You’re not important and you’re not a threat. Head empty, hands busy. You can almost hear your mother smirking triumphantly.

Mumu’s head tilts. “What an interesting accent. I wonder if that’s a consequence of the potion?”

How does the damned stuff even work? It seems to be fucking with your brain. With your language center. You’re hearing a difference in the way they all form their own words—mostly from Fancy Pants, who sounds like some hoity toity British guy. So it has to be somehow translating social connotations of their language at you. Which might mean your own, basic southern accent can work in your favor here.

You lay the backwoods on as thick as you can. Really channel Uncle Randy at his most self-parody. “I don’t know about any all that.”

It comes out “ah-oun’ na-oh ‘bou’ any awl ‘at.” Every vowel is too vowels—unlike clipped, too-fast northern—and half the words don’t have their proper start or end.

“Oh gods,” Fancy Pants drawls. “She’s a bumpkin.”

It does translate connotations. Huh. His last word comes in a little weird, but you think you get the gist.

“Those cephalopod monstrosities,” Gale says. “Nasty bunch. I don’t suppose, then, that you understand the full horror of our circumstances?”

Well that sounds like bad news.

“No?”

“Regarding the tadpoles? And the melt-change-condition?”

That word morphs in your brain way weird. Comes in totally garbled. What he says is one word, but what you hear is a very literal etymological breakdown of it? And it sounds downright nasty.

You squint at him.

“The tadpoles gestate in our brains before turning us all into mindflayers,” Goth Girl says. “We saw the results on the nautiloid.”

It takes a long second. That day is kind of a swiss-cheese fuckaroo in your memory. And then you remember the girl’s mouth splitting open as tentacles vomited out of the ragged hole in her face.

You stare at Goth Girl. Back to Mumu. The floor tilts beneath you.

“The what, now?” you say.

So Mumu repeats it, but in full-body graphic horror this time. Sweating. Bone liquification. Skin splitting. Shitting out now-useless internal organs.

You’ve never fainted before. Gotten dizzy? Yep. But an honest to god swoon?

You reach out and grab the edge of the table to keep yourself vertical. Fucking xenomorph bullshit, is what this is. Uncle Randy was right: aliens are out to get you, and they’ve got you.

As if sensing the brewing existential crisis, the brain worm—tadpole—behind your right eye gives a jaunty wiggle.

You swallow down the urge to puke. “How the fuck d’you fix that?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. I don’t suppose you or, your people? Would have any solution?”

A surgical wing. Probably in some top secret “on foreign soil so U.S. laws don’t apply” military facility. They’d knock your ass out and go in with scalpels. Probably try to take the damn thing alive, your carcass be damned. Another missing Indian woman what a shame.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Not that I know of,” you say. “I’m from, I guess y’all said another world? It’s called Earth?”

You get blank stares. So this doesn’t happen often, then.

“We don’t have any of all this, this magic and monsters and shit. I was asleep, and then I woke up on that ship. I got no idea what’s going on, sorry.”

Mumu sighs and nods like he’s expecting it. “Well, I suspect a proper introduction is in order. Hello! I’m Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Gale. Sounds English.

“Eleanor Ripley,” you say.

“Ah. Interesting. Can’t say I’ve ever heard a name like that. You are from a long ways away, aren’t you?”

“It’s French,” you say helpfully. “I picked it.”

He doesn’t ask why. Doesn’t make it weird. What about the name your parents gave you and why would you change your whole name and isn’t that the lady from that alien movie?

The name your parents gave you fits someone who doesn’t exist anymore. You picked a first name that sounded pretty, and your family name was too easy to track down, too tied to all that bullshit. And yes, it is a variation of the lady from the alien movie because that was the first one you watched that you weren’t supposed to. It scared the absolute piss out of you for about a year. But you saw it and got away with it and you got rather…attached to it, after you got over yourself.

Goth Girl is Shadowheart. It translates literally, and for a moment you think Gale must just be “particularly strong breeze”. Until Fancy Pants introduces himself as Astarion—with a little bow. No translation on that one. So Shadowheart really is rocking around with the gothest name you’ve ever heard.

Good for her.

Everyone properly named and all, you then make the mistake of trying to figure out where y’all landed. And you realize that listening to Mu—Gale—when you couldn’t understand him made for a pleasant background noise. But catching the torrent of words that pours out of him all translated is an entirely different matter. You stop paying attention about a minute and a half into the geographical specifics going back to naming conventions from five dynasties ago.

He doesn’t stop talking.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[fightingmonsterswithwords]

I too am a very impatient bitch to get to the exciting parts when I am writing fics. I seriously don't think I could do a proper slow burn even if I tried 😅😂

I feel very much like Darth Sideous just going "do it!" when I was reading your most recent ask response, in regards to you just jumping to writing the parts you want to right away.

I totally agree with that ask though, I hate that your doubting where you want to take it because I am just as excited for things to ramp up in this story! I'm dying to read the next update whatever the content may contain, I just know I'm going to end up obsessing over it just as much if not even more than Ch. 7. It's embarrassing how much time I've spent thinking about this story even with as few chapters as you've done so far.

I don't think a fan fic has captured and consumed my attention like this in such a long time. One of the things I still find crazy about how great it is, is knowing that you're not a native English speaker. This story to me has very much been the stereotype meme of 'sorry guys, English isn't my first language' kind of fics that just turn out to be masterpieces on a whole different level than others.

Anyway, sorry for the fucking wall of words, I honestly could not stop myself.

In summation, you are absolutely amazing and I'm low-key growing obsessed with this story you've been sharing with us. Haha I don't want to sound crazy but I just think you should know that you've been creating such an amazing story that can invoke such a response in a reader.

Don't apologize for the long message, my answers are even longer, hahah.

Yess. I truly admire people capable of writing a good slow-paced romance, since I know it would take me ages to get there with my writing rhythm I just don't even think of doing it. I would give up halfway 😅 For original stuff I try to have everything outlined, but with fics I mostly improvise, so I can't plan that far ahead. But I try to keep the pacing realistic even if it's a bit hurried. And yeah, I sorta played the card that Alastor and Little Bird had an stablished weird relationship before for that reason.

I'm screaming that you would throw me into the 'non-native English writing masterpieces' meme thing 😭❤ I'm so not worthy. I always include that bit of information in case there are lots of weird sentences, false friends, etcetera. And there always are. But like, I'm reading a first person POV novel right now set in North Carolina and the protagonist says/thinks a lot of things I don't completely understand because I lack that level of cultural depth. I realized the same thing reading a Hazbin Hotel fic full of cultural references that I sorta understand but aren't that familiar to me. If I wanted to write something about Alastor while he was alive in New Orleans I would have to do so much research. But also, being completely honest, I have a Bachelor's Degree in English Studies and work in the Translation field. I read more in English than in my own language (and I do fear the stuff I write sometimes uses overly flowery English because I have studied so much classic stuff). I have a decent grasp of the language. Just not flawless, not by far. I'm not trying to be humble, just self-aware. 🙃 For example: my dialogues are zero percent realistic because I don't usually have conversations in English.

I'm truly honored that you love the fic this much and have told me so repeatedly 🥰 I might not be doing so bad, after all, hah.

Thanks again for all the love and support, Kew!! 💖💖💖

[crackedmultifandom]

do not misquote him, the article said "a guy who suffers and afraid of who he might be. i hope this is a TOPIC that people can empathize with" - topic being internalized homophobia if you look at the sentence before.

i'm not putting words in your mouth. i say sa victims wasn't mentioned in the first place and for it to be now mentioned in a tweet he liked doesn't make sense.

asking for an explanation is okay and i don't blame any of you, acting as if he's OBLIGATED to address something people misread is not okay and that is what that tweet was saying and what i THINK joe was agreeing to

no one knows why joe blocked anyone, there were countless people asking for an explanation why would he choose to block 1 or 2? especially since it's now revealed that those persons have been harassing bash for a long time

“labelling them as sa apologists” okay to be fair you didn't. people have, but yeah you didn't my apologies

also i'm the last person to come on here and defend cis white male celebs - i barely care about them, outside of the show. but i have to be reasonable here and say people should really look at the situation and realise it's not what it's being made out to be.

i apologise for misquoting him. but still, it doesn’t change anything. internalised homophobia be damned, i will NEVER empathise with a abuser because he has internalised homophobia. a lot of us had dealt with that before. that doesn’t excuse ANYTHING. we didn’t ab€use and sa people. for the part where you talk about joe blocking people, pls read my other reply’s, i don’t feel like repeating myself over and over again.

nah, he’s not obligated. but with it’s such a sensitive topic? idk, that shouldn’t be a question if he should clarify it or not. any pr team would’ve immediately, made him post a statement. i mean, this interview got so falsely translated that people actually thought that he’s trying to excuse ben’s behaviour. it’s actually surprising that he didn’t address it sooner.

like i said, the tweet implied that we overreacted, that bash has to be “the bigger man” i mean? that sounds VERY weird. i don’t even understand why joe felt the need to like that tweet. bash clarified it, some people were ready to move on. it only complicated things further. (not to mention some other things bash said in that interview that were really weird. “In the books not much emerges of my role and I enjoyed filling in these blanks, analyzing the character and reflecting on his story in the parts we don't see.”) ????? huh ???? filling in these blanks for a abuser??? he forgot about solitaire ig.

[hobivore]

i have been thirsting for joon a stupid amount recently so.....subby joon + 101....hehehe

I’ve had this idea in my drafts for a while and your request fitted perfectly, so thank you for finally making me write it Mai! Hope you enjoy 💗

↠ pairing: knj x reader (f) ↠ genre: smut ↠ rating: explicit (18+) ↠ words: 1.7k oops ↠ prompt: “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.” ↠ warnings: telephone sex, masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, mention of choking, she’s kinda toying with him but he likes it, Namjoon in sweatpants because that should come with a warning, Joon’s subby and mostly very whipped and also a bit of a horny overthinking idiot (affectionate), also he’s a big dude… yes everywhere *winkwonk*

© madseok Do not repost, translate or use my stories without my permission.

One moment Namjoon is staring at the green phone icon, closing the app and re-opening it five times with twitching fingers, the other moment your sweet voice is purring in his ear.

“Namjoon?”

He nearly drops his phone in his lap.

Soft chatter buzzes in the background on the other side of the line. A door shuts and the click-clack of your heels echoes through the small speaker.

He looks at the clock and groans. 3:18 pm on a Thursday. Of course you’re at work.

It should take him less than 50 minutes to reach the airport by bike—he’s not going to risk subway traffic right before rush hour—and get on a plane to another continent. Change his name and disappear forever.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Has he said anything yet? God, is he going to be one of those guys who calls a girl, breathes heavily into the phone like a creep, then hangs up?

“Hi,” he croaks, flinching at his uncharacteristically high voice.

“It’s been a while.”

You’re right. It’s been 2 months and 4 days to be precise, but he doesn’t tell you he’s been counting the days. That’d be weird.

So he nods.

You stay silent and he rubs a hand over his face—of course you can’t hear him nodding. Get yourself together, Namjoon.

“I thought you’d never call me back.” There’s a wicked lilt in your voice and his stomach twists.

“Sorry.” He says. “I—I meant to call you sooner.”

He’d left your house with your number and it’d taken him all his willpower to stop himself from calling you that same day. He wasn’t a horny teenager anymore. He wasn’t desperate.

But then the days passed and the doubt started trickling in. Did you really want him to call you?

Maybe you’d regretted the night and given him your number out of pity. It had probably been a mistake, one of those nights you’d recall years after with your girlfriends. Sitting in a bar, tight black dress hugging every curve and a glass of wine in your hand as you talk about his stupid big dick and your friends erupt in laughter around you.

Or you had deleted his number from your phone and forgotten about his existence.

Namjoon wasn’t sure which situation was worse.

After 5 days, you’d called. He’d panicked and pressed the red icon—immediately shooting you a lame text message, ‘sorry, busy. will call you back later’.

He never called.

“Did you miss me?”

He swallows thickly. This morning I woke up with the outline of your body still imprinted on my eyelids.

“Yes,” he says, his tongue feeling too large for his mouth.

“I’m glad you called.” Your voice sounds honest and saccharine and it drips off his skin like honey.

Despite the whizzing aircon, Namjoon suddenly feels sticky and feverishly hot in his hoodie and sweatpants. “Where are you?” he asks, ignoring the fluttering inside his chest.

“I’m at work.“ You cut off his apology. “Don’t worry, you’re more fun than my colleague. He’s been nagging about his ex all day. I could use a break.”

Namjoon laughs. “Park? I remember you talking about him.”

He can practically hear your eyeroll over the phone. “The one and only. This is his other ex. Wait—” you’re moving again, “—I’ll hide in the toilet, he won’t come looking for me there.”

When you speak next, your voice echoes off the walls.

“You know, Joonie, I’ve missed you too.” Something clicks softly. You must’ve closed the toilet lid, sitting down on top of it, phone cradled against your ear. “I called you and you left me hanging like that.”

There’s an amused edge to your words that makes his chest tighten and his dick stir in his pants.

“So why call me now?”

His throat feels parched, and he looks around his room—no water. He gets up but stops himself before he’s out of his seat; Yoongi might be home, and he doesn’t feel like running into his roommate right now. Not when said roommate was the one who introduced you to him and kept telling him to man up and call you.

Namjoon fucked up and he owes you a proper apology. Not a stumbling mess.

“I wanted to hear your voice,” comes out instead.

To hear your voice, to see how your nose crinkles when you laugh, to fuck you senseless.

“Shit—I apologise.” He clears his throat. “For not calling sooner. I really am sorry.”

You laugh, a light, melodic sound. “It’s okay. I knew you’d call.”

The certainty in your voice makes his ears burn. Of course you knew he couldn’t stay away. Not after he’d felt your thighs clamped around his head, his tongue buried deep inside your pussy.

Not after he’d watched your face contort in pleasure while you bounced on his cock.

“So,” you continue, “you just wanted to hear my voice?”

Even separated by half a city and unable to see his face, you can see right through him.

His dick is tenting his pants and the blood is pounding in his ears. He ought to control himself better.

“Are you at home?” Your voice drops dangerously low and Namjoon knows he’s a lost cause the moment he lays his phone on the desk and puts you on speaker.

“I am.”

“You’re hard right now, aren’t you, Joonie?” You tut. “Calling me after such a long time. Getting hard at the sound of my voice. How pathetic.”

A small, wet patch darkens the grey fabric of his sweats.

“Or are you touching yourself already?”

“I—no!” He is quick to reply, voice rising. He wouldn’t dare. His head spins, and this is a lot, but he’s not that kind of person. The kind of person who’d jerk off to a woman without her permission.

“But you want to.”

Namjoon closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. “Please.”

“O, Joonie,” he hears your earrings clatter against your phone as you shake your head, “what should I do with you?”

He knows better than to answer a rhetorical question. You sound like you know exactly what to do with him.

“I want you to touch yourself. Picture it’s me.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches in his throat and he hooks his sweats under his balls, grabbing his cock in one hand.

It’s nothing like your soft skin stroking him, the small kitten-licks of your tongue teasing his tip, the wet heat of your walls surrounding him.

His hand is rough, with his long fingers and broad palm. He'd never paid much attention to his hands until you'd pointed them out.

So fucking big, you'd moaned when you’d showed him how to tighten one around your throat, your heartbeat hammering underneath the tips of his fingers.

It had taken him all his self-control not to come right then, on the spot.

He spits in his palm and starts moving his hand with slow strokes, toes curling inside his socks.

“Do you wish it was my pussy instead, baby?” Your voice sounds distant yet mellifluous through the device and he moans, tightening his grip.

Namjoon tells his students there are no stupid questions. That’s a lie.

There’s an absurd amount of them whizzing around his head right now. Why did your pussy taste so sweet? Is it possible for a person to suffocate between someone’s tits? Does Namjoon really want to die by boobs or is he just horny? (Knowing himself, there’s a 98% chance it’s the latter). What would his parents say if that happened? Would his university put up a picture of him on the bulletin board to mock him? Would he make the newspaper? Hopefully they don’t misspell his name.

He’s sure professor Choi would at least attend his funeral and thank him for his help. He’s been saving the old bastard a lot of time grading those dull papers.

No offence to the students.

“Answer me.”

He jerks in his seat. “Yes,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “Wish it was your pussy. Wish I could fuck you right now—” he whimpers, thumb pressing under the head of his cock, head lolling against the back of his chair.

“Poor boy,” you chuckle, and the sound goes straight to his core. “So desperate to waste your cum—you’re gonna spill it all over yourself instead of filling me up. What a shame.”

Your breathing sounds stable and even, and he doesn’t think you’re touching yourself. It makes his cock throb even harder.

He can picture you sitting on the toilet lid in your work clothes, leaning back against the wall. Fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of your shirt while he’s panting on the other side of the line. Murmuring filth in his ears with that lovely voice of yours—

He should probably hurry up before Park starts looking for you.

Picking up his speed, he lets out a low grunt and his eyes slip shut.

He can see you now, spread out before him on your bed, naked and waiting. He can feel you under his hands and taste you on his tongue. Your scent is intoxicating, soft moans falling from your lips as he pushes inside you.

“Faster.” You strike a sharp slap across his cheek with the flat of your hand—

Namjoon opens his eyes and his gaze lands on the bonsai on his desk. Its tiny red flowers look like they’re taunting him.

Don't judge me. You've seen worse than this.

There’s a ringing in his ears and he gasps at a particularly harsh flick of his wrist.

“Are you gonna come for me? Already?” You sound disappointed and his balls tighten.

You tsk. “You’re hopeless, Joon.”

He is. He’s hopeless, and his vision shatters, body hunching over as he comes all over his hand and chest.

Stroking himself slowly, he tries to regain his breathing. A part of his mind vaguely registers your voice on the other end of the line.

“What about you?” He pants, wincing at his sticky sweater.

“I guess I’ll just get off all by myself,” you chuckle. “Unless you want to come over tonight?”