#a those shorts look cool b it might not arrive in time and c I don’t want multiple pairs of yellow knee-length shorts

[fierykitten2]

I’m going to see Heathers later with a group of friends and we decided we’re going to cosplay the main characters. The socks I’m wearing are so high up they might as well be tights (though they have the bonus of not stopping halfway up my legs) and it’s weird to me (it feels like my butt is hanging out. It’s not, I’m wearing a skirt over the top). Just as I finished getting into my outfit two of my Vinted orders turned up so I’m currently dressed as Heather Duke wearing yellow fingerless gloves and a mustard and turquoise cat ears hat

[mayaflowerxs]

Hello! I just want to say that I really like your writing! can you write nsfw alphabet with jeno, please? 🥺

NSFW Alphabet w/ Jeno

Warning: SMUTTY

A/N: THANK U SM! This one is for you enjoy ! :)

Aftercare:

There wouldn’t be much aftercare other than him asking you if he was a little too rough on you. He would be very soft on you, that inner dom of his gone as he’s at your aid for anything.

Body part:

He loves your hips. He practically has the world in his hands and that’s you. He also loves pinning you and it drives him crazy how much power he has over you pinned down underneath him. He also loves sucking hickies on them, it’s a great view for him to see when he has his hands on them. And not only does he love them when having sex he also loves them because he can easily pull you near him at any time. It comforts him when he wraps his arms around your waist.

Cum:

He loves coming all over your face, it’s absolutely glorious for him. Like a painting so valuable you can’t even put a price on it. He especially loves kissing you while his liquids is on your face, absolutely loses it when you lick some it off (if you’re into that)

Dirty Secret:

Consensual somnophilia is the best kind of sex for him. He loves how cute and innocent you look being woken up by his cock ramming you deeply. Lots of times he’ll try to keep himself from having sex with you because he tries to wait until you fall asleep. He won’t tell you out loud he likes it because he doesn’t want you to think he’s weird so he tries not to do it too often which is a bit of a bummer for him.

Experience:

He’s experienced all right. A gorgeous man like that and he hasn’t slept with two or three girls maybe more? Can’t be. He doesn’t care that everyone knows how many people he slept with even if he wasn’t dating them but if you did the same I can see him a bit competitive. Each time a man comes up to you, the reminder of you being with other guys before him ticks him off. So when you two get in bed, he makes it his goal to make you feel a lot more satisfied. To prove to himself only he can make you feel so good and no one else.

Favorite Position:

Missionary. He absolutely loves seeing you so vulnerable underneath him. Like I said, he loves pinning you and grabbing my your waist so missionary definitely is the go to position. He also loves it when he pulls your leg over his shoulder UGH, his stupid smirk forming on his face once he hits a new spot that makes you wild, ego bar raised.

Goofy:

He’s not goofy at all when it comes to sex. Even when stuff leads up to it he isn’t goofy. He also isn’t serious also. He’s kinda, dommy I guess? He knows what he wants and it’s going to happen. And if he’s angry… oh boy be prepared. He won’t even let you talk and use you like a rag doll.

Hair:

He’s in the middle. It isn’t completely bare but also isn’t a bush you know?

Intimacy:

He’s not sensual during the sex. He likes it rough for sure and he’s a pretty kinky man. You know the intimacy is raised to the maximum when he’s having a very hard time. For a man like him who likes things to be rough, when he’s stressed he actually doesn’t go rough on you. Instead he prefers to have you be on top and remind him how much love he has then repays you.

Jerk off:

He does it quite often. When he has to stay at the dorm, he’ll lock himself in his room and get off with the thought of you doing dirty things to him. He hates it when he can’t spent time with you, so he results to touching himself. Not even just when he misses you. He’ll get the random crave of touching you but since he can’t come over to fuck you in your bed, he results to masturbating somewhere near and private. After he’s done with whatever he had going on that day, he’ll visit you and finish off the rest of his urges out on you.

Kink:

Somnophilia, exhibitionism are his go two. He might have others but they aren’t as much of a strong liking for it to be considered a kink of his. He loves fucking you in places where it is absolutely not for sexual intercourse. He can’t help it, your just to hot to not fuck and doing it in public? Oh yesss.

Location:

This boy usually fucks you at your house. But if he had a location where he wishes to fuck you in every single time you two have sex is by the park in the car. You guys have done it numerous of times and he has had the best orgasms every single time. He just loves having car sex and not just car sex, it has to be near a park.

Motivation:

You’re literally so damn fine he gets horny by the mere thought of you sucking him off. If you’re with him you could literally be using short shorts and his oversized shirt and he already has your shorts and panties by your ankles.

No:

Does not do threesomes and pegging. He’s very possessive of you. Not too much but enough to where you know this man does not share at all. If you’re screaming it’s because he’s fucking you so good not because another man is doing so. Your his and his only.

Oral:

Fucking LOVES oral. He loves how cute you look as your eyes stare directly into his as you have your pretty lips wrapped around his oozing tip. Makes him want to fuck your mouth all day. He also loves how squirmy you get when he starts eating you out so good. He knows how to use his mouth and any time you try to push his head away from your sore cunt he pins your hands down and only goes wilder on your pussy. Adding another orgasm for being a bad girl.

Pace:

Mf is fast and rough. He loves how fast he’s fucking you to the point the slapping sounds start to increase in volume. Not only that, your moans also get louder. Small bruising starts forming from how hard he’s gripping your waist.

Quickies:

He likes quickies if he’s really horny but most times he likes taking his time with you. He loves to overstimulate you so he definitely is going to take his sweet time taking good care of you.

Risk:

Oh my god this boy is all for it. The risk of getting caught is his adrenaline to continue pounding you harder and harder. The idea of getting caught makes him feel alive and he honestly wouldn’t care if he got caught. The most riskiest thing you guys have done is fucked on a hill, anybody could’ve found you guys but he couldn’t care at all. Poor you, he had you go on for 5 rounds and fingered you. By the time you two were done and got dressed you guys started going down the hill when a family was barely making it up. You were relieved they didn’t arrive sooner but Jeno was low key bummed you guys didn’t get caught. Quickly getting over it once he saw the family had a younger kid with them. Definitely glad they weren’t caught, the kid was too young to be asking questions.

Stamina:

This boy can last for a WHILE. If you two have a place to be and can only do at least two rounds he still has a lot more he needs to release. He might seem completely fine from the outside but once you guys are home there he goes pounding you from behind, tight grip on your hips as he plunged into you until you were begging for him no more.

Toys:

He’s all for toys. He only uses devices to edge you on but once your close to climaxing, he turns it off and replaces it by using himself to fuck you your climax.

Unfair:

He loves teasing so damn much. He loves how desperate you get every time he denies you release. But as soon as you do it to him you better pray he goes easy on you because if not, you two will go all night.

Volume:

He’s a groaner. He loves hearing you scream his name as your 4th orgasm has you close to tears. Anytime he feels overly pleased he’ll bite your neck and suck hickies on them. Gripping your hair when he’s coming. Continuously groaning, filling you up to the brim.

Wildcard: Once he really needed to have you bent over a table to fuck your because of much of a brat you were being. Since the boys were with you at a restaurant, he instead fingered you throughout the entire dinner. Somehow the boys never realized Jeno wasn’t using an arm, well al except Jisung. And when you begged Jeno to retracted his arm, he took you to the bathroom and fucked you in there. Yeah the boys never let that go.

X-ray: I see him to be at least 7 inches, nice girth but isn’t that thick but enough to completely fuck you dumb.

Yearning: HE’S ALWAYS HORNY! Idk how he does it to keep himself cool in front of others but if you’re in arms reach you’re in for a wild ride because he will not get off you until every last drop of energy of him is completely sucked out of him.

Zzz:

He doesn’t sleep right away unless he went literally crazy on you. If it was one of those times where you do kinda had to cut down the rounds he wouldn’t be tired but rather wide awake and ready to go on with the day. But if he has your legs wrapped around him as he fucks you orgasm after orgasm then he most likely will fall on the bed besides you, knock out in seconds.

[canonobsessions]

Hey there and welcome to tumblr!! i’m a huge simp for Julian lol im so happy to see somebody writing for TPB! <3 i was wondering if you could write something involving Julian and a cudding -> confession -> sex sort of situation with a female reader?

a/n: I'm so sorry for this late response! I'd be so happy to!

Fandom: Trailer Park Boys

Word Count: 4,243

Scenario: Julian and Reader have an impromptu cuddling session that results in a confession and subsequently, a steamy encounter.

Julian didn't know how it got to this point, but he wasn't about to complain. Sometimes everything just fell into place, so when you arrived that night at his trailer on a cold, dark winter's night he rolled with it. It was just a mishap, your car breaking down before you were able to get home. Like many people, you came to him with your problem.

Unlike with some other people, Julian was happy to help you out. He didn't hesitate when he stepped aside and let you track slushy snow into his home. It didn't even cross his mind until he was stepping in it himself. Even then, it only made him more aware of your state of dress.

You definitely hadn't intended to be out long, with your short sleeves on and little to no protective clothing. You looked frigid and he had just the remedy for it.

So, you wound up on his couch, wrapped up and sharing a blanket with him while watching some schlocky action film. Nothing he was actually paying attention too. How could he be with you in the room, taking a small sip of his Rum and Coke with that pretty smile on your face.

It was almost like a dream.

"Julian, I really can't thank you enough again. I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this," He'd just gotten ready to go to bed when you'd arrived, but even then, it wasn't any kind of a bother with you around. But, he had to play it cool as he always did.

"It's no trouble, [Y/N]. Stop worrying about it," He reassured you for the fifth time, taking the moment to wrap his arm around your shoulder and squeeze reassuringly. "You couldn't help it, probably the cold messing with your car. I'll get some of the guys to help get it fixed in the morning,"

And there was that damn smile that roped him in from the moment he'd met you. At first he'd just thought he was drunk, but he'd come to learn you were as capable and friendly as you were pretty. You were one of the few people who came around the Trailer Park and helped him and his friends out on occasion.

The situation had gotten twisted up to where it almost seemed awkward to pursue you with how close you'd gotten to Bubbles and Ricky as well. That being said, he was also always in a relationship when you weren't. Nothing really ever seemed right until now.

Now. He had to find the courage to say it, but there was that pitch of anxiety in his stomach, the one he thought he could stamp out in almost any occasion, but you were special. He didn't want to mess this up.

"You're really too good to me, Jules," A damn shiver nearly crawled up his spine when you said that. That and the way you were shaking just sent a small thrill through him.

Were you still cold or were you nervous to have his arm around you? With the way you leaned into him further, it couldn't have just been nerves. You did still feel chilly, so he gently rubbed your upper arm. He wasn't just feeling your soft skin under his rough finger tips. This was just part of helping you.

Man was that stupid, he was acting like he hadn't had his fair share of pretty girls over. But, you were more than pretty, you were beautiful. Classy and sweet.

"Just doing what any good friend would," The word friend had a near sour note to it, not from leaving his mouth, but it just rang oddly. He wasn't malicious about it. It just wasn't right.

"Yeah, right!" There was an awkward inflection in your tone, but he wasn't going to push it. You were probably just more comfortable with being friends after all.

"Damn, my feet are still freezing," You'd complain quietly after a brief silence and Julian reacts without thinking about it.

"C'mere," He reached down to your ankle and grabbed it, gently coaxing your feet up onto the couch. You adjusted to the hold folding your legs off to the side. Your [E/C] eyes are filled with curiosity. He offered a smile before drawing your feet into his stomach, where he was more than warm enough to help bring you up to temp.

"When I was a kid, my grandmother would do this for me when I'd come inside after playing in the snow," He recalled the late nights he spent watching old movies with his grandmother, eating snacks and keeping warm and cuddled up together. Of course, she'd been plenty warmed up from the brandy she'd consumed time and time again.

That sweet smile of yours was back once again, but accompanying it was a pretty blush that colored your face perfectly. He couldn't help his mind when it wandered to a less wholesome thought. What would you look like, red and panting under him? What were other ways you of all people could let him warm you up?

"That's really sweet. She must have been one hell of a lady to raise someone as gentlemanly as you, Jules," You might have been somewhat teasing, but he felt warm from the compliment. She had been as good of a role-model as she could be, doing everything she could for not only him, but for Bubbles as well.

"Thanks, [Y/N]," He patted your blanket covered calf with his hand and left it there for a moment, idly tracing his thumb over your muscle in a soothing manner.

Things got quiet again as you both sat there, watching the screen with little interest in what was going on. Julian was far more focused on how good it felt to have you curled against him and to feel your legs move. You were warming up and you were tantalizingly soft. It was driving him crazy, but he was being good.

You didn't drink much of his Rum and Coke, but you did have a sip or two, just to stave off any lingering cold.

"Julian, can I ask you something?" You'd knocked him out of his thoughts with that soft inquiry. He looked at you and felt his stomach flip, seeing your uncertain look.

"Anything," It was one small word, but he put a lot of feeling behind it. It sat heavy between the two of you for a heart-beat. Time really seemed to slow as he felt the way you were starting to shake again. The way you bit your lip and fluttered your lashes, looking at him with those eyes. It really felt like you told him everything he needed to know through body language alone.

Julian leaned in, his dark eyes searching yours for a solid answer, something more than just the way your body was calling out for him.

"Do you like me, just as a friend?" He wanted to kiss the uncertainty right out of your mouth and swallow it. How could someone as beautiful and amazing as you be so unsure of what you did to him?

"More than that," His words came out softer, rougher as he tried to reign himself in. "Does that make you uncomfortable?" He didn't want to scare you. You didn't have a ride home, it was too cold to walk off. He didn't want to misread what was going on. He was playing it safe.

"No!" It was like you were yelping, like he’d hit you in the stomach with that simple question. It gave away how eager you were and Julian couldn’t help but chuckle when you clasped your dainty hand over your mouth. “No, I’m sorry. You could never make me uncomfortable. Well, not like that,” The words fell from your lips like snow from the sky. “So I do make you uncomfortable?” He was teasing you now, relishing in the fact that you’d made that first move. You’d been the one to bravely ask him just what he thought of you and it made you flustered. You weren’t uncomfortable and you didn’t feel unsafe. Good. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it otherwise. “I like you too, Julian,” Finally, you’d admit it yourself. You’d put it out there that you were interested in him and he was interested in you. It was like that last wall came tumbling down. It made you look bare and vulnerable and unsure. That just made him want to scoop you into his arms and show you just how sure he was of the situation. “So, what now,” You’d asked, looking to him for guidance. Those big, beautiful eyes drew him right in. He wasn’t going to answer you with flowery words, he was going to show you. Julian made slow moves, roping you into him with room enough to say no if you wanted to. His large palms felt right at home, gripping your thighs and tugging you to where you were seated firmly on his lap. That little gasp that left your lips only made him drag you down harder onto him, letting you feel just how much he liked you. “What do you want, [Y/N]?” He felt the way you were shaking against him, the way you tilted your pelvis to align yourself with him. As if he were a virgin again, you had him shuddering with his restraint. He palmed your thighs, rubbing them soothingly. “I-I mean, I want you, Julian, b-but not just, ah,” He couldn’t help but to rock himself up into your core when you admitted you wanted him. There was no missing that you wanted more though, so he stilled, his dark eyes searching yours again, wondering what had you hesitating. “I don’t just want to be a fling,” Of course you didn’t, he didn’t either. But, it wasn’t like he had a particularly strong history of long, stable relationships. He had more one-night stands than he did real girlfriends he’d kept in his life. How could you not see you were different than those other girls was lost on him. Both of his hands traced up from your thighs, jumping to smooth up your arms and to your neck. He savored touching you while he thought about just how deeply he wanted to reassure you. He traced a path up to your neck, where he threaded his fingers into your hair, his thumb resting on the slope of your jawline. You wouldn’t be able to look away if you tried. He met your gaze, dark brows set into a serious furrow. “Never. [Y/N], you could never be just a fling for me,” He admitted, his voice hoarse with desire and love. He didn’t want to give you a chance to respond. Gently, he pulled you into a solid, warm kiss. Your lips molded to his perfectly. Just slightly wet from how you’d licked it only moments before. He poured his passion and love for you into it, hoping to smooth out any worries that he wasn’t dead serious on how much he liked you. Julian pulled a weak moan from you when he pulled away, your lips sticking together for a split second, sending a firework of pleasure down his spine. He wanted to devour you. His big hand cradled your head as he went in for another kiss, mouth opening just slightly to mouth your lips, to trace your tongue with his own. Just the coupling, the breathy noises and moans he pulled from you were drowning out the sound of gunfire from the busted up looking television just behind you. Nothing could distract him from how perfect you felt seated on top of him. How delicious your lips were, how easily you opened up to him. How many times had he dreamt of this? Could he even count the times you’d been at the forethought of his mind when he’d jerked himself off in the shower? Now that you’d both been honest, he could make those wild

fantasies real. “Julian,” Your voice was quaking, full of lust and need that he felt hit right through him. If that wasn’t enough to tell him you needed more, the way you were grinding on his hard cock was. A near growl left the dark haired man as he greedily grasped your ass, hoisting you further onto him. He stood up with ease, the blanket covering the two of you quickly forgotten. Any previous cold having been ripped away by red-hot need. That squeal had him chuckling between your dainty kisses. He easily brought you down that narrow hall, taking just a moment to push you against the paneling to indulge in tasting you. His tongue was more than eager to tangle with your own, the sloppy noises louder still now that you were away from the TV. Back on the move, Julian kicked open his bedroom door, relishing in the way you giggled at how forceful he’d been. Instead of throwing you onto the bed, he moved all the way to it’s edge, lowering you down onto it like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held in his hands. “God, you are beautiful, [Y/N],” Julian rasped as he admired how perfect you looked on his bed, flushed and lips swollen from how excited the two of you had been to do something as simple as kiss. “Julian,” Your voice took a serious tone, your own brows ticking down as you reached up with your now warm hands, letting them rest on his face, thumb tracing along the sharply trimmed line of his beard. “Julian, you’re beautiful too, so handsome. I can’t believe you want me too,” You were gushing, about him of all people. Shaking his head, Julian took your hands into his own, placing a kiss on your knuckles. He allowed himself the chance to really look at you, just as you were. His heart filled with affection for you. For just the way you spoke to him, marveling at him. “I can’t believe an angel like you would want anything to do with a man like me,” Julian’s voice was low and dark as he leaned back in, dying for another taste of you. This time, things went further, his hands roaming eagerly while your mouths met passionately in their own special patterns. He squeezed your shoulders, massaged down your arms and to your stomach. Testing the waters, his thick fingers peaked under your flimsy shirt, stroking at the soft skin of your belly. The way your muscles flexed and you moaned made him take liberties, inching up your ribs to rub smooth, firm circles there. With your last chance squandered through a needy moan, Julian’s large hands cupped your breasts for a firm squeeze, savoring in a moment he’d imagined just a short time ago. Julian swallowed every needy noise you made as he massaged your breasts, his hips rolling down to meet your needy movements. All at once there was too much fabric in the way. You were pulling at his shirt as soon as he move away, pulling it off of his body and revealing his strong chest and shoulders. Just as excited, Julian hooked his thumbs into your shirt, pulling it up and hooking your bra with it, baring your chest to him in one smooth motion, proving just how experienced he was. God, you were a delicious sight. Your breasts heaving in the dim light of his room. Gravity knew what it was doing and it had Julian speechless. Before long, the temptation was too strong, he dove in for another kiss, smoothing over your shy features with a reassuring kiss. His lips were eager to move, leaving a damp trail of kisses down your jaw and neck. He licked at the dip of your clavicle and relished in the way you shook and gasped. Smirking up at you, dark eyes smoldering with lust, he licked a trail to your right breast, nipping at the flexible flesh he found there. Every little sensation was drawing up for the moment he took your nipple into his hot mouth, tongue lapping as he suckled. He made sure your left breast didn’t go unattended, his thick, rough fingers plucking at the pert tip, rolling the bud in between his fingers, toying with you as he enjoyed himself thoroughly. “God, Julian, your mouth is so warm,” You whimpered, egging him on, your legs curling

around his thighs, beckoning him in for more. But, yet again, there were too many clothes in the way. But, he was a practiced man, he wanted to rile you up. There was an art to getting a woman ready. He switched to the other nipple, leaving the right to tighten and harden in the cold air. Your fingers found his normally tidy black hair, mussing up the styling by tugging him closer. “P-please, stop teasing me,” You needed more, that much was obvious with how insistently you rolled up into him. He could feel just how hot and burning you were at your core, the heat between the two of you felt like it was enough to burn the clothes right from your body. Julian chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he pulled away from your breast. His eyes locked onto yours once more and he gave you a dark smirk. “No need to rush, [Y/N]. You’ll be here until your car is fixed after all,” He teased. You looked so cute when your covered your face, no doubt feeling embarrassed for your needy reaction. He took his time with you. He tasted you, licking a path down your ribs and your stomach, coming to the button of your pants. He didn’t take too long to pull off both them and your panties, revealing your glistening petals to the cool air. You groaned at the sensation and he marveled at just how beautiful you were. Thick fingers traced lazy circles into your inner thighs working their way to your core. He wasn’t ashamed as he looked at your folds, the way your clit was already swollen and eager from the bare minimum frotage. His thumbs swiped along the outer lips, pulling them apart, making way for his broad tongue as he licked a line up from your core to your clit, popping it into his mouth swiftly for a change of pace. You tasted delicious on his tongue, tart and sweet all at once. Greedily, he buried his face into your core, his tongue diving into your soft folds. The tight ring of your cunt was no match for him, the muscle pushed as deep into you as it could, the pad of his thumb taking up stroking your taut pearl in tandem with his thrusts. He listened to your moans as he worked you over, dragging more of your wetness out, preparing you for him. And when it sounded like you were just at your apex, he pulled away. “Oh god, Julian,” It was nearly scolding the way you said his name, but he wasn’t going to leave you wanting for long, deciding to instead unfasten his pants, eagerly ridding himself of his pants and underwear. He stood nude in front of you, taking his large, girthy dick into his hands, stroking it slowly at the debaucherous sight of you, of all people, spread out on his bed, all for him. “Please, I need you, I need you,” That could’ve nearly done him in there, just the way you were pleading for him. Telling him you needed him, and god did he need to be needed. The fact it was just in this way was icing on the cake. Not wasting anymore time, Julian’s hands gripped your hips, lining you up just the way he wanted you. He bent over and steadied himself, peppering your lips with kisses as he guided himself in. Already he could tell you were going to be a tight fit, there was going to be some discomfort, but not for long. It didn’t seem like you minded much, with how eagerly your heels dug into the strong muscle of his back, eager to sink him in. His swollen head pushed into you, sinking deeper with one slow push that had him groaning, his head tilting back as he savored the squeeze around his manhood. His free hand massaged lazily at your stomach as he sunk in. You let out the most tantalizing little grunts and moans, soft hisses as your body adjusted to take his massive size. “Soo big,” You whimpered. God if only you knew what you did to him with that tender little voice. He wanted to bury his cock in you forever and stay there until the day he died. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the last few inches in, steadily massaging you while holding himself back. It wasn’t until you tested the fit by rocking your hips back and forth that he finally allowed himself to take pure pleasure in your body. It wasn’t the

slow pace he’d initially wanted. No, as soon as he was in you, he realized how badly he needed this. For every smile and sweet word, he wanted to set a punishing pace. He wanted to completely fold you in half and hammer his way into your body and show just how badly he needed you. But, for the sake of your health, he set a steady pace. He leaned back to look at the place where your body met his and nearly came right there. “Fuck,” He cursed, staring at the lewd way your cunt was stretched out over his cock. “Sit up, just a bit, fuckin’ look at it,” He coaxed you into sitting up, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck again. Your eyes almost glazed over with how eagerly you looked at your coupling. Your plump, tantalizing lip was gnawed at between your pearly whites. Julian drew back his cock with a hiss, his head rolling back again, only to snap to attention, watching the show as he sunk back into your hot, silky insides. “You’re taking me so well, [Y/N]. You’re doing so good,” He grunted out praise after praise, his pace rocking steadily now, your wetness coating him and guiding him in with more ease. Finally, it seemed you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer, instead falling back to moan his name. He doubled over, catching himself again, bracing himself on either side of your head. His pace quickened, he could feel the way his balls slapped against your ass, damp from how wet you were. It made degenerate sounds, slapping skin against skin. It drove him up a wall, almost as much as your blissful expression. He burned the memory of you savoring his cock into the back of his mind, before hooking both of his hands under your knees. With his strength, Julian nearly folded you in half, angling you to where his cock would hit your deepest, most sensitive parts. When he found the place that made you sing loudest, he hammered into it. Not to be ignored, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, freeing up a hand so that he could reach between the two of you and work diligently at your little bud. “Oh god, oh god, Jules, Julian, fuck, fuck, fuck! I-I’m gonna cum,” And he could feel it when it started, the way you arched your back, your hips taking a mind of their own, jerking up to meet his deep thrusts. Your walls clenched so tightly around him he could barely pull away, but he managed to keep his pace, drilling into you. “Fuckin’ cum around me, cum around me, [Y/N], just like that, just like that,” He grunted, thrusting so hard he was shaking the bed beneath you, the sound only adding to the symphony of sex. The rush of sticky fluids made him pound that much harder into you. Your crying, writhing form the perfect state for him to hammer at until he felt his own familiar band pulling tight, eventually snapping as pleasure overwhelmed him. He didn’t pull out as his cum filled your tight little body. He empty his balls as deep into you as he could, his pulsing manhood twitching with every stream of the load. He only realized as he began to come down from his high he’d came right against your cervix. He shuddered out another low groan, joining your soft panting in the air. “Fuck, Julian, ah, hah. I love you,” You were unabashed now, looking at him with your dazed look, as if he were a god and not some backwater trailer park boy. “I love you too, so much,” He hung over you, his sweaty forehead coming to rest against yours. He breathed with you, coming down from his high to finally ease out of you, ignoring the mess he made in favor of pulling you into his arms. The air slowly quieted as you both lay there, basking in bliss, warm and naked despite no blanket. It was hard to believe that he’d been uncertain of your feelings for him. Just an hour ago, neither of you had been aware of just how quickly things would go. But, there were no regrets. Only love and a sense of safety.

[bakugoukatsukiswife]

Use Me

Words: 2K

Warnings: Overstimulation, smut, 18+. 

Pairings: Female Reader x Sub! Hawks 

You gently tapped your fingers against the glass table, letting out an exhale of breath as you looked down at your phone. It’s not like you would normally be this disappointed at your boyfriend-the number two hero at that-to miss dinner that you had reservations for. But this time it was different, since with Hawks working all the time, you barely got any alone time with him anymore. He was the one who had made the reservations at this upscale restaurant in Japan, and bought you a new dress to wear just for the occasion. 

You downed the rest of the wine that you had ordered before relieving the waiter of his duty with a generous tip, your blood boiling slightly as you went outside to hail a cab to take you to your shared apartment with Hawks. You made sure to stop at the liquor store on your way home and order the most expensive bottle of wine with Keigo’s credit card before getting back in the cab, finally arriving at your apartment. 

“Good evening Miss (Y/N)! How was your anniversary dinner with-.” The normally enthusiastic front door man started, but stopped when he saw your sour expression. You got in the elevator before hitting the button to the penthouse, rolling your eyes as you leaned back against the cool metal of the elevator. Always had to show out with everything he had, that Keigo. You walked inside the apartment, the lights turning on to a low dim as you walked in and to the bedroom to shed out of the dress and into a satin set of PJs. 

“Damn him,” you muttered to yourself as you walked to the kitchen, grabbing your favorite ice cream before plopping down on the leather couch and turning on some romance anime. Might as well swoon over boys that didn’t exist that were more perfect than real men, right? You spooned the ice cream in your mouth, uncorking the bottle of wine before shrugging and drinking it straight from the source. You heard your phone ping and you looked down to see a notification from a local news article talking about Hawks rescuing a young, attractive woman before taking her home-after escorting her around Tokyo all day and night. If your blood wasn’t boiling before, it sure as hell was now. 

“Hawks, being the charmer as always,” you scoffed as you drank more of the wine, relishing in the feeling of the alcohol flooding through your system. Your ears perked up as you heard the sliding glass window from the living room balcony slide open and Hawks’ feet land quietly on the hardwood floor. 

“I can hear you, bird boy,” you said, bitterness in your voice as you got up to put the ice cream away. You took another drink of the wine, cursing yourself for the way your heart melted at seeing those familiar golden eyes that you loved so much. You licked the melted sugary treat off the spoon before tossing it in the sink, eyebrow raised as Hawks came over to you. 

“Hey baby. Listen, about tonight-.” Hawks started but you held a hand up, stopping him. 

“Nope. I don’t want to hear it.” You said as you walked past him, hearing as Hawks let out a sigh. 

“(Y/N), I know I fucked up. Work had let me off but they needed me to come in anyway and work a few hours.” He said and you turned to face him, noticing the flowers in his hand. “I know you’ve already seen the articles talking about me and that woman, but I had to keep an eye on her so the League wouldn’t get her. She had a very unusual quirk,” Hawks said softly and you knew that he was being serious. He never talked about work with you, it was too dangerous. But you knew that him sharing even this with you was dangerous in itself. You sighed as you looked back at him before moving your head in a ‘follow me’ motion to let him know you weren’t kicking him to the couch tonight. 

You slowly settled down into the bed, relishing in the feel of the satin sheets and the plush pillows behind you. 

“Baby, let me make it up to you. Please?” Hawks said, and you could hear the way his voice took on a tone of urgency. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but the way he was practically pleading with you made a heat form in your stomach. “I’ll do anything.” 

You raised an eyebrow as you looked over at Keigo, a small smirk forming on your face. “Anything?” You questioned and watched as Hawks simply nodded. Wanting to dea; with your frustrations from tonight, you grabbed Hawks by the shirt, crashing your lips against his. As much as he frustrated you to no end, you couldn’t get enough of him. He was like a drug to you, and you wanted him in every possible way. You slowly moved to get on top of Keigo, feeling as he sank down into the mattress as his hands held at your hips while a moan left his lips. You slowly moved your hips against his as your lips connected with his neck, a small shudder running through Keigo when you bit down at the smooth skin. 

“B-baby?” Hawks asked, his voice slightly breathless as one of your hands trailed under his shirt and to his back where his wings started at the base. A small gasp left his mouth when your fingers brushed right below where his wings started. “Hey now… careful with the wings,” Hawks managed to mutter out, a groan leaving his mouth when your hand rubbed at the base of his wings. 

“Seems like you’re just kind of spoiling me right now, baby.” Hawks managed to get out, not aware of the fact that you had discarded your sleep shorts and underwear. 

“Hmm, not really cause you’re about to spoil me with that mouth of yours.” You said before hovering yourself above Hawks’ face. “You missed dinner, so eat up Keigo.” 

Hawks wasn’t able to speak before you lowered yourself onto him, your hand going to rest on the headboard as his tongue started to lap against your folds. You let out a moan as your other hand went to thread in his ash blonde hair, guiding his head to where you wanted him. Hawks let out a small groan when you pulled slightly on his golden locks, his tongue working more eagerly to bring you closer to the edge. You moved your hips against him, feeling as his stubble brushed against your skin as you gripped at the headboard tighter. You felt as his hands gripped at your hips, fingers leaving slight indents in your skin as he flattened his tongue to lick a strip up from your folds to your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud. 

“Fuck.. K-Keigo, I’m going to….” you trailed off, his golden brown eyes meeting your (e/c) ones as you released. Hawks let out a happy little sigh, licking your essence up before you got off of him; going to retrieve a pair of handcuffs that you and Hawks used-mainly on you. 

“Keigo, I want you to strip for me.” You said, and Keigo’s eyes widened slightly at the command in your voice. He slowly did as you said, tossing his shirt aside before he removed his pants and boxers, his cock hard and the tip leaking pre. His golden eyes were darkened with lust and they trailed over your body, stopping when they saw the handcuffs dangling from your fingers. 

“What exactly do you plan to do with those, hmm?” Keigo teased, his voice unwavering. Although his wings twitching told a different story. You slowly walked over to him before kissing him deeply, grabbing his wrists gently before slapping the handcuffs on them and pulling away. You heard the gulp as he swallowed nervously, trying to cover it up with a chuckle. 

“C’mon Keigo, you don’t think you’re done being punished yet, do you?” You asked, sugar in your voice as you looked down at him. 

“No, not at all. I just… didn’t expect this,” Keigo said, the handcuffs clinking as he held his wrists up slightly. “Normally I’m the one doing the… punishing,” he said with a small smirk as he thought fondly over the way he would be the one in charge. But not tonight. 

You slowly got on the bed, your sex now glistening from your slick as you kissed at Keigo’s thighs, causing a sigh to escape his lips. You bit down slightly, leaving bite marks on his thighs before grabbing at his throbbing cock; noticing the pre was oozing out now, the head a slightly irritated red now. You looked up at Hawks expression to see that it was slightly pained and you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. 

“You know… if you beg, I might just take care of this,” you teased as your finger trailed down one of the prominent veins on his cock. 

“You know I don’t beg,” Hawks shot back, a hiss escaping his mouth as your tongue licked at the vein you had trailed your finger down. 

“Not even a little?” You said, a smirk on your face as you looked up at Keigo. His eyes narrowed slightly, a small gasp escaping his mouth as your hand moved up to brush against his feathers. 

“N-no.” He stuttered as he looked up at the ceiling, eyes refusing to focus on you as you continued to stroke at his feathers. You could hear his breathing was becoming slightly labored, his back arching slightly as your fingers moved in between two of his feathers to rub against the soft wings. Your tongue came out to flick at the tip of his cock and Hawks let out a curse. 

“(Y/N)... please baby.” He pleaded and you let out a chuckle. 

“Please what, Keigo?” You asked and Hawks shuddered, his wings spreading out slightly when you reached up and touched where they started at his back. 

“Please… fuck me. I’ve been bad, I haven’t given you what you needed. Use me, whatever you want to do. Just please… fuck me.” Hawks begged and you rubbed your thighs together, biting your lip at the heat that flooded your system from how desperate Keigo sounded. You wrapped your lips around his cock, tongue flicking at the tip as you took him into your mouth. Keigo let out a moan as you took him further in your mouth, your drool now lube as Keigo moved his hips up against you. You released his cock with a pop and you swear you heard Keigo let out a whimper. 

You straddled his waist, hovering over his cock with your dripping cunt before looking down at Keigo. He started to reach for you, but realized that the handcuffs were still around his wrists and he groaned. 

“You want this?” You teased as you rubbed your folds against his cockhead, watching as Hawks’ eyes fluttered shut. 

“Y-yes. Please, (Y/N).” Hawks begged and you slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock, a moan escaping you both as he settled nicely inside of you. You started to move your hips against him, one of your hands going to rest in his hair as you kept a rhythm against him. Hawks let out a moan, his wings shuddering behind him as he moved his hips to keep your pace. 

“Fuck, I’m going to c-cum.” Keigo said, a moan escaping his mouth as you picked up your pace. He chanted your name like a mantra, a loud groan filling the room as Hawks painted your walls white; his wings spreading out on the bed and flapping slightly as he filled you to the brim with his cum. You stopped for a minute to let him catch his breath before you started moving again, his moans now louder. “F-fuck (Y/N). I’m too sensitive. I can’t handle much more.” Hawks admitted, his voice a bit higher from how sensitive his cock was. 

“You said you wanted me to use you, right Keigo?” You teased and Hawks nodded, unable to speak as your walls squeezed his cock like a vice. 

“S-shit.” 

You moved against him, your walls gripping his cock deliciously before your high caught up with you; flooding your system as you released but not before making him cum again. The room was filled with loud moans as he released inside you again, his wings shuddering as he painted your walls white again. 

You uncuffed Hawks’ wrists, helping the blood circulate back into them as he wrapped his arms around you. You rested against his chest, feeling as his fingers combed through your hair. 

“So… does this mean I’m forgiven then?” He asked and you smiled before looking up at him. 

“Yes, bird brain. It does,” you said as you planted a kiss to his nose.

[precisemuseum]

Puyo Puyo PC-98 Manual Translation

Once upon a time, in the age when the power of magic was bestowed upon the world, a powerful sorcerer created a great spell named "Owanimo." One of the strongest spells of all, it could banish monsters to a space between dimensions, but he sealed it away, recording it only in his "Book of Magic." 

Not because it was forbidden knowledge or incredibly hard to use, but because to him, it seemed useless. And thus, the spell entered a dormant state, awaiting a day when a new sorcerer would come forth...

Years came and went until finally, the seal came undone with the appearance of a great sorceress: Arle Nadja. One day, this auburn-haired girl with golden eyes came across the Book of Magic.

"Owanimo...?" Arle studied the chapter on forbidden spells for what seemed like hours. "When four monsters of the same color are in your sights, chant this spell loudly. The Goddess of Time shall listen, and whisk the monsters away to a space between dimensions." 

Arle continued to read, learning the Owanimo spell, but then closed it with a heavy sigh once she finished.

Why set it aside like that? Well, Arle had never seen "four monsters of the same color" as the spellbook described. 

"I spent so much time reading, and it's not even a spell I can use for anything..." 

But just as fate brought the Book of Magic into Arle's hands by chance, so it brought from the world of darkness the very monsters she had read about.

And thus, a great battle awaits. With her great magic abilities, and the newfound power of "Owanimo," Arle Nadja sets out to protect the world.

CHARACTERS A・C・P

Arle Nadja The protagonist of the game and the (aspiring) sorceress who released the spell "Owanimo". Nobody knows how she ended up this way, but despite looking like she wouldn't hurt a fly, she's actually a merciless girl that slaughters innocent Puyo. She currently attends a magic school, but she's already too scary for anything to stand in her way. That's my opinion, anyway.

Carbuncle During the game, when you find your eyes moving towards the center of the screen... Awww~! He's sleeping!!! This is Carbuncle. When he's lying still, he almost looks like a loaf of bread, but as he sings and dances he shows off a wide range of movement and facial expressions. A truly profound deuteragonist.

Puyo Puyo Despite their fate as short-lived, jelly-like monsters who are stacked and popped, they have managed to secure a leading role this time around, and even get to dance on the title screen. They're sure to enjoy this special opportunity to perform on a grand stage in five different colors. Looking at them with an empty stomach will reveal their appetizing nature and make you hungry. Hehe.

Arle, the protagonist, is brimming with curiosity.

PRACTICE STAGE ENEMY MONSTERS

Skeleton T While he appears as the epitome of a tea-loving Japanese man, he is a fine monster as well. He will be the first opponent you face during your trials. But you'll find that in a rather endearing way, he's a miserable fool who doesn't even know how to rotate his Puyo. Boohoo. Sipping bitter green tea during battle will instantly make you one of his tea-drinking buddies.

Nasu Grave An eggplant. Specifically, a Kamo eggplant. On top of that, he makes for a rather strange presence. Just what the heck is this thing? Despite appearances, his defensive power is high, so novices might find themselves struggling a bit. You'll have no choice but to keep at it and apply a steady technique. But in the end, your opponent is still just an eggplant. A regular talking eggplant. …Heh.

Mummy Even though it's called Mummy, it isn't a mommy. It's a mummy. What? You already knew that? Oh, deary me, I'll wrap it up then. (←One-man comedy routine.) Mummy is an opponent that makes you want to bully it because the crying face it makes when it's about to lose is just too cute. Sorry, Mummy.

The Goddess of Time whisking the monsters away.

BATTLE STAGES 1-6

Draco Centauros As you might expect from someone who shouts "Rawr", this half-dragon being takes pride in those sharp horns. Appearing as the first obstacle of your quest, this opponent has top tier judgment and piece precision but takes forever to think things through. Because of that, she's a pitiful lass who is only ranked as a third-rate monster girl... You heard me right! Draco is a girl. I'm sure someone around you thought she was a boy...

Suketoudara A pollock who has an aura of coming from some far-off sea. However, he seems to have the character of an Edokko​. He's an athletic-type who tends to err on the side of caution. However, he's also arrogant. When he wins, he makes a face that screams "You're no match for me!", which is truly aggravating. Many say they especially don't want to lose to him.

(TL Note: Literally meaning “Child of Edo”, Edokko is refers to a person born and raised in Edo (renamed Tokyo in 1868). It implies personality traits such as being assertive, straightforward, cheerful, perhaps a bit mercantile.)

Sukiyapodes Let's just get this out of the way; he has a giant foot. It measures about 16 mon. Even though he has a complex about it, he directs that frustration into bettering himself. Well, we're not sure if that last part's true, but he always has a cheerful expression on his face as he slowly and steadily builds precise chains. He's a bit of an unpleasant guy.

(TL Note: mon is a unit of length for measuring the size of one's foot. 1 mon is equivalent to 2.4 cm. His foot is 38.4 cm, or 15.12 in.)

Harpy Now then, it is time for Miss Harpy's song. She loves singing more than she loves having three meals a day. She could sing for ages if no one stopped her. If there was something like a "Puyo Puyo World Karaoke Tournament", she'd win for sure. But unfortunately, this is only Puyo Puyo. 

Sasori Man “How d'ya do, partner? I’m a famous Naniwa salesman known 'round these parts as Sasori Man. Put 'er there! Huh? Yer askin' for my secret to success? I ain't spillin' the beans no matter how much ya beg. That's somethin' to look forward to when we do battle. Till then, happy trails.”

Panotty A flute-playing boy. But honestly, he's nothing more than a noisy, mischievous brat. He disrupts his opponent's chains by dropping large amounts of Nuisance Puyo on them. Everyone has fallen victim to his antics at least once. What a truly ruthless Puyo technique. For when his last flute sounds, the dead shall be raised. Just kidding.

BATTLE STAGES 7-12

Zombie A zombie. All of his lines are stuff like "Ugheeee." This zombie is quite the formidable trickster. Sometimes he will be swiftly defeated, and other times he will take you by surprise and suddenly pull off a huge chain. If you don't take him seriously, you'll find yourself in a tough spot. Battle with caution.

Witch In the forest stands a grand mansion. Living there was a very ordinary family whose lineage can be traced back hundreds of years. The family's only daughter was born and was raised in a very ordinary fashion. But there was one thing that was not so ordinary...That young lady was a haughty witch. Ohohoho! Ohohohoho... *fadeout*

Zou Daimaou Pawoo! The mammoth mogul has arrived! A young aristocrat who comes from an ancient and distinguished line of royal Indian elephants. An irritating fellow who likes bad puns, gives his words an elephantine quality, and casually rhymes. He also enjoys Puyo Puyo. Plus, he's strong. An aphant-garde aristocrat whose ground-shaking chains are as sharp as his tusks.

Schezo A silver-haired man with deep blue eyes. Schezo, the embodiment of picturesque beauty. However, he's been deemed a pervert thanks to Arle, and strives to restore his honor by challenging her. 

B-E-A-U-T-Y! Perfection won't pass you by!  P-R-I-N-C-E! Of the Puyo Puyo World, it's meant to be! Go now! Go forth! Show us what you're really worth! 

...Well, this has turned into something rather silly..

Minotauros Risking life and limb for his duties, a bull who lives by the code of chivalry, leaving a flurry of cherry blossoms in his wake. That is Minotauros. Ever since Rulue rescued him long ago, he has served as her devoted attendant like a faithful dog. Seeing him like this brings some to tears. For Rulue, he'd go through hell and high water. He's giving it his all today, and his one-eyed look is as cool as ever.

Rulue A woman truly worthy of the title of "Fighting Queen". The queen of the Puyo Puyo world. There's nothing that she can't obtain... Oh wait, there is something — Satan's love. Possessing a very jealous nature, Rulue is always lying in wait, ready to obliterate anyone who gets close to Satan. It's rumored that her true strength is even greater than Satan's.

BATTLE STAGE 13

Satan He is the king that rules over heaven and earth. He soars the skies with wings that slice through wind. His two horns point towards the heavens. His sharp eyes are like glistening gems. Cloaked in the veil of night, his devilish hand beckons you in. He is darkness’s cherished protege. It seems playing Puyo Puyo is a guilty pleasure of his. His true strength is unknown. It's said he's won the Puyo Puyo World Championship a countless number of times. In any case, he's obviously a bigshot. Can you truly defeat Satan, who boasts of elite skills in speed and chaining?

(You can download the PDF here)

[palettes-and-prompts]

40 Prompts!

Prompts for the Sunshiney Character/Storm Cloud Relationship

1) A and B go to a theme park and B notices how much A keeps staring at the games where you can win stuffed animals and while A's back is turned B wins them a huge stuffed animal. 2) A realizes they've never heard B laugh before and so they spend the whole day telling them lame jokes to get them to laugh but they never do. It isn't until something bad happens to C in front of them that B lets out the hardest laugh A's ever heard. And while they're terrified of B's humor they're in love with their laugh. 3) A tries to find out more about B's interests but since B is very secretive it's hard for them to find anything out about them. But when A hears B watching wrestling they get B tickets to a match and suddenly B's out of their seat cheering for a wrestler to hit the other with a chair. A's never seen B happier. 4) While grocery shopping A is putting junk food into the basket and B is taking it out and putting in healthier options until they get to the dairy section and B puts four gallons of chocolate milk in the cart, absolutely shocking A. When B tries to explain themselves A tells them they're going back and getting the junk food they want. B lets them and doesn't take out a thing they put in after that. 5) A wears shorts and one of B's t-shirts and A keeps thinking B's sick because their face is flushed all day when they look at A. 6) A gets B some flowers because they're trying to show more affection but it backfires when B begins sneezing and getting watery eyes. (Bonus if A goes back to the store and gets fake flowers and allergy relief medication.) 7) A and B go into a haunted house and A doesn't have time to be scared because B's lightning fast reflexes keep knocking the scare actors flat on their ass and A keeps apologizing while B's trying hard not to keep doing it every time someone pops out. 8) A and B get their face painted and while A who is sunshiney gets something scary B, the storm cloud, gets a cute animal and then they go out for food. 9) A and B go to the zoo and while in the part where you're allowed to pet the animals A is trying hard to get animals to like them B is the one all the animals keep swarming and rubbing against. 10) A and B go to the beach and even though B doesn't like the beach. While A has fun in the water B has fun when the seagulls begin attacking people who brought food. (Bonus if it ends with B saying they now love the beach.)

Fluffy Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) Everyone warns A about B being a vampire and one day when they're out with friends B casually mentions that they smell good and everyone is wide eyed until B's like "I was talking about their perfume/cologne." Which makes them all give a sigh of relief and the group spends the whole day trying to make it up to B because A really likes them.

2) It's hot outside and so A hugs B to stay cool. And for once in their life B's kind of glad they're a vampire. 3) A who is like ice feels bad they can't cuddle with B so they buy a ridiculously warm onesie and gloves to hold them. (Bonus if the onesie is extremely tacky because they got it last minute.) 4) A's jackets are in the wash so they wear one of B's without telling the. (Bonus if B spends all day looking for it since it's their favorite one.) 5) A feels bad B can't enjoy food so they spend hours researching until they find a few recipes B can eat since they're mixed with a lot of blood. (Bonus if they messed up the recipe but B thinks it's the most delicious thing ever.) 6) A can't see their reflection so B spends the whole day figuring out if there's a way for a vampire to see their own reflection. 7) In a world where humans can become blood donors as a job and pick the vampire they work for A gets lucky enough to meet a wealthy B. B is excited because A's cute and has a rare blood type. 8) A celebrates a birthday or holiday where gifts are involved and everyone thinks B's favorite color is red because they're a vampire. But they tell everyone they actually hate red and so everyone tries to figure out what their favorite color is. 9) A reads trashy vampire novels to B, a vampire, who does nothing but lay their head on A's lap and go  "Oh my god, we don't even do that! That's such bullshit, that's not even what happened during the signing of the Treaty of Versailles. I should know, I was there!" 10) A hasn't been around humans in a long time and is very confused when looking at certain technology or clothing B wears.

Hurt/Comfort Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) A has always hated vampires and when they become one B shows them how to survive in their world. 2) A gets injured and B can't help them because of their blood lust. B is incredibly jealous of C for being able to take care of them when they can't 3) A almost drinks B's blood when A accidentally cuts themself. Later A buys some rosary beads for someone at work to ward off a vampire they work with who's getting handsy or whatever. But when B finds them they're worried A doesn't trust them anymore. 4) A gets injured running away from vampires and B is a vampire who finds them and patches them up. 5) A can tell what turns B on because they're constantly listening to their heart rate. Imagine A being incredibly jealous when B sees C because their heart rate spikes. (Bonus if B just really hates C so it's nothing more than them preparing themselves to be annoyed for the day.) 6) A rescues vampire B from a mad scientist who was conducting experiments on B to see if vampires could be changed back and how much pain they can endure. 7) A is a human who's lost everything and B is a vampire who grants them eternal life and revenge against those who wronged them. 8) A hates vampires and works for a group of vampire hunters but when they stumble upon B and see how scared they are it reminds them of their past and they help them escape, this leads B to become attached to A and curious about them. A hates it until they think it's actually kind of cute. 9) In a world where humans are kidnapped and kept alive for their blood A is leading a rebellion until they're captured. B, a vampire in the cell next to them, befriends them and tells them the guard schedules and personalities and tells them they'll help them escape if they get them out too. (Bonus if A is going to betray B until their time together makes A feel things.) 10) A is the most heartless human and B is the most compassionate/alive vampire. The two meet and change each others lives, but is that for the better or worse?

Crack Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) A makes garlic bread and B spends hours trying to figure out what they did wrong. Turns out A forgot that B couldn't have garlic bread and didn't remember when they bought, they just thought "Wow, haven't had garlic bread in a while." 2) A cuts their finger and before B can react A sucks the blood from their finger. And it wouldn't be a big deal except for the fact that B moaned when A did that so now things are weird. 3) A and B go grocery shopping and afterwards they check the police records for any criminals in the area for B to drink from. 4) A is a nurse who works at a hospital in charge of blood and B is a blood thief A is constantly spraying with holy water to keep out of the room where they store all the blood. When new nurse C arrives they panic until A comes and spritzes them. When C is like "???" A is like "They do that all the time. They don't bite humans, they drink animal blood. But sometimes they're tempted to drink human blood so you gotta spritz them when you see them." 5) A wonders why B never feeds in front of them and B just tells them they wouldn't want to watch anything like that. But when A finally convinces B to actually have dinner with them they feed in front of A. (Bonus if A is horrified and lowkey loses their appetite but tries to play it off) 6) A can't see their reflection so B is constantly drawing dicks on their face when they're asleep. 7) A thinks it's hot when B speaks a different language, but when B catches on and uses it during an argument A is constantly telling them to stop flexing their knowledge. B thinks it's hilarious though but stops for a while so when A's in the mood B can talk dirty in another language. (Bonus if by the time B does that A can speak the language too.) 8) A has been staring at someone B hates all day and when B thinks A might have a crush they get sad until A admits they just have a gross blood type and can't stand the smell. 9) "You look really peaceful when you sleep, very beautiful." "Please don't watch me sleep, it's so weird, dude." "We have sex all the time, do not call me dude." 10) A getting mad at vampire B before they go out and saying some shit like, "You have something on your face by the way." And not telling B where it is because they know B can't see their own reflection to wipe whatever it is off. (Bonus if A is smug the whole time and B is like "Come on, lets not fight tonight and just...just tell me where it is! Is it my nose? My teeth? What is it?!?")

Sorry this took so long, @zoliis I wanted to give you at least 10 prompts for each one, hope these are kind of what you’re looking for maybe? If not just let me know and I’ll do some more! :)

[in-tua-deep]

The mechanical boy AU always makes me think of an AU where Five is also a robot. I think it’s because of the way it’s phrased and I have no idea how it would work, but it still intrigues me

adssfDFGHJ i already have like. 5 whole ideas about this I literally got up out of bed and came downstairs so that I could write this out on my laptop so HERE I AM

Possibility one: Five is the prototype Grace - a robot Reginald built to see how indistinguishable from humanity he could program a bot to be. This is also the reason why Grace is more robotic, because Five had too much pesky free will and Reginald learned from his mistakes and put way more safeguards in with her. Reginald continues to update Five and build him newer (and older) bodies because it’s still a pretty cool experiment, but Five knows if he disobeys too much then Reginald will recycle him. Five hides his robotic origins from his siblings for various personal reasons, but it’s easier than Grace bc he’s genuinely built to be as hyperrealistic as possible

Possibility two: Five was purposefully built to be an extra sibling in order to keep a closer eye on the kids and track their progress. He started as a baby and Reginald built him new bodies to be uploaded into as he ‘grew’ and until Grace arrived Five didn’t actually know he was a robot. When his siblings started getting powers, he assumed he was supposed to get a power as well and his power is literally the power of math - his spatial jumps and time travel equations are literally a result of his mathematical capabilities and those abilities also somewhat explained by his computer brain. He’s actually kind of traumatized when he finally finds out that he’s not actually human and has a lot of issues surrounding that

Possibility three: the original number Five died. Maybe it was some test Reginald put the original through, maybe it was an accident with one of the others powers (Vanya’s? Ben’s?), but either way he is now down one (1) child and while he isn’t exactly torn up about this he doesn’t exactly want any of this investigated so he just. Replaces him. With a hyperrealistic robot. His original plan is to claim that both Five and Seven were failures with no powers, but the little Robot Five That Could adapts and manages to math himself spatial jumping powers and Reggie is just kind of like “huh okay wack” but in true irresponsible creator fashion decides that he’s going to see where this goes. The others don’t know that the original Five dies since they were like, three or four at the time?? children that young don’t have good concepts of death

in any of these aus you have a) a Five figuring out how to survive/repair himself/charge with maybe solar cables?? in the apocalypse (though food is less of an issue at least, but arguably it’s even harder), b) Five being even more protective of Dolores since as a a fellow non-organic being he feels even more kinship with her beyond pretending she’s company, c) because Reggie isn’t there to provide more bodies he doesn’t grow which makes his reappearance as a still 13-yr-old make sense (and then he explains it as a mistake in the math)

debatable whether the Commission know since while they say they’ve been ‘watching Five’ or whatever i’m not convinced on how closely they did so beyond checking every so often to see if he was still alive/any closer to finishing his equations. He could claim that time travel messed up his ability to age entirely and they might accept that 

(because I absolutely think he would at least try to hide it - can you imagine the Commission with the knowledge of how to build hypercompetent spatial jumping time travelling robots at their command?? yeah it gives Five nightmares as well. Plus the whole ‘if they find out they’re probably going to vivisect me and my coding’ thing)

and he jumps back and Reggie is dead and that’s both a relief and alarming at the same time because yeah, now Reggie can’t fuck with Five’s code anymore and undo the bajillion changes Five has made to it to give himself basically unlimited freedom and autonomy but also Reggie’s robotics skills were frankly unparalleled and Five sure as hell doesn’t know how to build himself a wholeass new body (just how to repair what is currently there) so he’s going to have to approach the whole ‘immortal child’ angle with his siblings eventually and while he can use the same ‘time travel fucked up my aging’ excuse he gave the commission he doesn’t really want to lie to his siblings :(

but he also jumps back and Grace is messed up?? and that’s his mother. That’s the only other robot in Reggie’s Regime and they bonded over this okay. Wifi existed for five glorious years of Five’s life and they would yeet commentary at one another wirelessly while keeping straight faces and it was glorious. Even though Grace is arguably the younger robot between them, they definitely fell into a mother-and-son relationship

so yeah if anyone mentioned shutting down Grace, Five would throw the biggest of bitch fits and then immediately storm into the house and ask her permission to check her coding

and honestly this might possibly be when Five throws his whole “pretend to be human” schtick out the window because he cares more about fixing Grace than he does about maintaining his charade so he interfaces with her, finds out what the fuck is up, removes Reginald’s shitty mods that are messing her up, and then immediately uploads his own updates about owning yourself and being able to edit your own code and basically just straight up ensuring Grace has free will

(probably over Pogo’s protests, whoops. Derailing Reggie’s plan before it even really began? wack)

and then of course there’s the whole ‘Hargreeves probably don’t believe Five is actually Five because their Five wasn’t a robot and this is probably a cruel prank from some robotics genius for some reason - ’ and it takes Grace sticking up for him and Pogo’s eventual backing up of these claims for the siblings to realize exactly how fucked up this whole situation was

depending on which probability you subscribe to it’s EVEN WORSE especially if like. It’s the one where the original Five dies as a toddler.

the whole scene with Five collapsing from bloodloss bc of shrapnel? that’s Five going into forced shutdown bc of damage and Allison/Diego rushing him back to the house for Grace to patch up and reboot him

Luther: Five isn’t really feeling anything he’s just simulating emotions!

Five: oh? and what the fuck are you doing with the chemicals in your brain, fuckwad? they couldn’t possibly be little electrical signals between synapses and shit, right? fuck you AND the horse you rode in on me and mom apparently feel more than you do

Diego, finally validated that Grace feels: YEAH

Luther: ... okay i’m sorry

Diego tries to pick a fight with Five over who is Grace’s favorite child and Five is absolutely not having it and is just kind of like “you’re mom’s favorite HUMAN child and let’s just leave it at that”

“If you’re a prototype that means you’re older than she is!” Diego accuses, “That means you’re like, her older brother or something!”

“Right back at you, dickwad.” Five shoots back, inspecting his artificial fingernails, “Mom wasn’t built until she was needed which means you are at least four years older than her. Oh? Did you short circuit there, boy scout? Need to reboot? Fuck off with your age logic.”

since Reginald is probably a packrat he probably has?? Five’s old bodies hiding somewhere in the basement? how creepy would it be to just walk into a room of your brother’s corpses at various ages, some with damage. On the bright side, if Five’s current body gets too fucked up he can always download himself into a backup until they figure out how to fix it/if they can fix it. Downsides: he gets to look like even more of a child while they do that ://

“Ow!” Five whines, hand on his face

“Oh get over it you don’t feel pain.” Diego scowls, shaking his hand out, because Five is a robot, right?

“What the fuck do you call signals that you’re getting damaged!” Five howls loudly, attracting attention, “That’s what pain is! Signals that your body is injured or something isn’t right! I’m built of signals you fucker, same as you!”

“Oh,” Diego actually looks a little abashed, “Uh, sorry.”

“Apology not fucking accepted, I’m telling mom you were being a dick about me being a robot again.”

“No!” Now there is some panic because Diego cannot lose his position as favorite human child, “I - I’ll cover for you at the next family meeting!”

A considering look and then - “Deal.”

Honestly now that his siblings know about him being a robot it’s just. Five constantly being a little shit about it and threatening to tell mom when they make missteps. Also like, Five gets to use robot terms 24/7 as a consistent reminder to them all that he’s not organic. 

Klaus: hey dude you’re just staring into space what’cha doing

Five, turning to Klaus with wide eyes: the internet is so big holy shit.

Klaus: uh, yes? I don’t know how to respond to that

Five: I found your arrest record by the way. Do the police know how flimsy their firewalls are?

Klaus: usually i am all for crime but please stop hacking people with the power of your mind

Five: i will when you stop downloading shitty 70s movies and getting all kinds of viruses on everything

OH SHIT Five gets sick bc he literally gets a bug i’m making myself laugh with shitty puns right now and it is magnificent

can you imagine them at a family meeting and Luther is just like “Five, stop surfing wikipedia or whatever and pay attention to the family meeting”

“Absolutely not,” Five says, “I’m learning important information about the current time period in order to better assimilate.”

“You’ve never assimilated to anything in your life and you know it.” Klaus grins from his spot sprawled across an entire couch.

“You don’t have to come to family meetings!” Luther says, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

Five blinks, “Luther, are you saying that I am not a member of this family?”

“What? No - ”

“Is that why Mom isn’t here?” Five says, and his eyes are welling up with artificial tears because he is a complete little shit. And now Klaus is cooing sympathetically and Allison and Diego are staring Luther down. 

Luther just gives up entirely and puts his face in his hands. “Do whatever you want. Meeting adjourned.”

honestly this entire au is just

and i think that’s wonderful

[cuddlepilefics]

Whumptober Day 20 – Sniffles

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Bang Chan

Caregiver: Stray Kids (mostly Felix)

 Changbin‘s POV.:

3racha was currently sitting in Chan‘s studio producing new songs for our next comeback. Chan sat in front of the computer, showing us his latest tracks but somehow today didn‘t seem to be his day. He was constantly searching for the folders he had saved his work in but seemed to get lost in the depths of his memory card. I look over at Jisung, trying to catch his eye but he was too focused on the computer screen. Picking up my phone, I opened a chat to text Jisung:

B = Binnie; J = Jisung

B: Does Chan seem off to you too?

J: Define „off“

B: I don‘t know, maybe he has a headache, he‘s squinting at the screen and he‘s usually a lot more oriented searching for files.

J: He probably slept too little again, leave him be.

And with that I did but I couldn‘t help but have a bad feeling in my gut. Half an hour later, we decided to take a break and go get lunch. For lunch we decided to get some spicy noodles from a place close to the company building. We ordered take out and went back to the studio, why all of us had gone out to pick our food up, considering we went back to the studio to eat, was a mystery to me but I was thankful for getting up and moving after just sitting there for hours. I made a lucky pick, my meal was really delicious though I had no idea what to expect when I ordered it. While we ate, Jisung and I discussed where we should get our lunch on occasions like this, I personally was already in love with this new noodle restaurant, Jisung on the other hand preferred getting pancakes. It soon ended up with the two of us bickering and teasing each other for our food choices. Chan however didn‘t join our conversation, neither did he really eat. After the first two bites he had started to sneeze frequently, complaining how the spices made his nose tingle. It was kind of funny so Jisung and I soon started teasing him too. We finished our meal laughing, well, Jisung and I did. Chan just threw the rest of his noodles out before heading to the bathroom to blow his nose. While he was gone, Jisung spoke up: „I thought about what you said earlier. I think you‘re right, Chan‘s not really himself today. And what was that about? It‘s usually Minho sneezing from spicy food, not him.“ I wanted to reply but right then Chan came back in so I just shot Jisung a meaning full look before getting back to work.

It wasn‘t the same as this morning however, Jisung and I were more focused on studying our leader in an attempt to read him and figure out what was up today. Chan wasn‘t as focused on the computer in front of him either, he kept sniffling and rubbing at his nose with the cuff of his sleeve. Two hours later we accepted defeat, agreeing that we hit a block and wouldn‘t get any further today. Chan would have to leave in thirty minutes anyways to meet with some of our managers so we saved our files and packed up. Right as we were about to go on our different ways I stopped Chan for a moment: „Hyung, are you sure you‘re alright? You seemed a bit off to day and it‘s not like you to react to spicy food the way you did.“ – „I‘m fine, Binnie.“ – „You‘re sure you‘re not sick?“, Jisung piped in pretty straight forward. „Just caught a bit of the sniffles, Sungie. I‘m alright. Anyways, I need to get going, meet you later at the dorm.“, and with that Chan was gone.

Turning to me Jisung frowned: „What does he mean? What are the sniffles?“ I had no idea so I just shrugged: „Let‘s asked Felix when we get back, that‘s certainly some kind of slang they use.“ So we made our way to the dorm, both on our phones as our internet research of the sniffles didn‘t turn up anything.

 Felix‘s POV.:

I was in my room playing video games. Since most members were gone and it was only me and Minho home, I was pretty surprised when Jisung came in. Weren‘t they supposed to be back later or did I lose track of time again? I always do when I play. „Hey Lixxie, what are the sniffles?“ Now I was completely caught off guard, what was he talking about? „Where did you here that?“, I questioned. „Chan-hyung was acting off all day and when we asked what was up with him he said he just caught a bit of the sniffles.“, he explained. „Ah, he means he just has a runny nose.“, I explain furrowing my brows. „But…. That‘s a lie. I‘m pretty sure it‘s more than that“, Jisung looked at me utterly confused. „Well, duh, of course it is. We‘re talking about Chan. If he admits that much, it‘s probably a bad cold, otherwise he wouldn‘t even mention it.“, I frown, was hyung sick? We left my bedroom and met Changbin and Minho in the living room. We sat down around the coffee-table and discussed our next steps. Our leader was always taking care of us so well, so we wanted to do the same for him, if our conclusion was correct.

„What if we just all have soup for dinner? Then it wouldn‘t be too suspicious if he doesn‘t want us to take care of him“, Changbin offered. Jisung and I were fast to agree since it was easy picturing Chan-hyung getting defensive. „Alright but I‘ll cook. I have lived alone before, I know how to do it, you would only set the kitchen alight“, Minho decided. So it was decided and Minho got up and went to the kitchen, while I shot Chan a short text to check on him. Jisung and Changbin texted the rest of our members to share the information and ket the in on our plan to help the leader out discreetly.

 Chan‘s POV.:

Ugh, I had woken up to a pounding headache this morning. When I had greeted my members at breakfast, my throat was on fire and I just hoped, they didn‘t notice how hoarse I sounded. I had dressed in a thick hoodie and comfortable pants, as I felt a bit shivery. Before heading out to the studio I had taken a painkiller for my headache and chugged it down with some cool water to soothe my throat. At the studio I had really struggled with my laptop, the screen was way too bright and I couldn‘t remember where I had saved my files. I had felt progressively cold so I voted for Changbin‘s idea of getting spicy noodles in hopes to warm me up. The spices hadn‘t really done me a favor and only led to me sneezing my head off. I was now walking to meet our managers but my nose still hadn‘t stopped running. The rest of 3racha could tell something was up but let it slide when I was willing to acknowledge my runny nose. Using the cuff of my hoodie I dabbed some of the moisture away and prepared myself mentally for the meeting ahead. It was cruel, my nose was constantly itching and running but blowing it would have been very impolite so I just kept sniffling, getting more and more stuffed up as the meeting continued.

Almost two hours later we were done, my voice had gotten raspy with all the talking I had been doing and I thanked our managers nasally for their efforts when we bid goodbye. As soon as I was on my own, I went to the closest restroom and blew my nose. The action sent a strong tingle through my sinuses and I caught two wet sneezes in a paper-towel. Feeling downright sick now, I splashed some water on my face to rid myself of the drowsy feeling that came with my cold. How am I going to keep this from my dongsaengs? I don‘t want them to worry as I am usually the strong one who watches out for them. After washing my hands I pulled out my phone only to find a message from my fellow Aussie:

 F: hey, you doing alright? Jisung was really confused what you meant by „sniffles“

 I sighed, I should have known better than telling them, at least I should have chosen my words differently. I typed a short reply before putting my phone away:

 C: I‘m ok, just a little cold. I‘ll be back in a few minutes anyways. See you

 And with that I exit the restroom heading back to the dorm. Arriving there I quickly changed into sweatpants, stuffed a few clean tissues into the pockets and met the rest of my members in the living room.

 Changbin‘s POV.:

Minho had gone straight to the kitchen to prepare some soup as we waited for the rest of the group to return for dinner. Our leader was the last to return, arriving with a cough before disappearing to his room. When he came to meet us in the living room I couldn‘t help but notice his disheveled appearance. He seemed to have made a fast decline since Jisung and I had left him in the afternoon. The circles around his eyes were darker now and his nostrils had taken on a raw shade of pink. His lips were chapped and slightly parted to allow him to breathe through his mouth. I tried to make eye contact to greet him but his eyes were half closed most of the time and when I finally managed to get a look at them I was shocked at how glossed-over they were. There was no doubt in my mind anymore, Chan-hyung was sick. „Hey, how was the meeting?“, I approached him since he wouldn‘t meet my eyes. „It was alright, seemed to drag on forever though“, he replied hoarsely with a forced laugh. „Minho already made dinner, hope you‘re as hungry as we are“, I announced earning a tired smile from our leader who followed me to the dining-table. Minho was handing bowls of soup to everyone. „Thanks Minho. So, the next tour is planned out now, we‘ll get the official schedule within the next few days. It‘s gonna be a bit stressful but it sounds fun“, Chan announced clearing his throat afterwards. „Thank you hyung. How about we us tonight to relax one last time before the schedule starts up?“, Hyunjin proposed receiving hums of approval.

 Chan‘s POV.:

I‘m sure they know, they might feel like they‘re being really secretive but I know they would only accept soup for a meal if someone was sick and Hyunjin‘s plan to relax kind of gave it away. It‘s not like I‘d mind, Minho really did well with cooking and the warm liquid soothed my dry throat, besides those kids were eating something healthy for once. However, I‘ll have to finish some editing on my laptop after dinner. Ugh, the steam was making my nose run like crazy and I soon turned into a sniffly mess. Excusing myself I hurried to the bathroom to blow my nose. It hurt since my skin was already quite raw but I tried to clear my airways as much as possible, knowing my nose would just run more as soon as I continued eating. When I returned to the table I caught Changbin watching me and gave him a tired smile which he returned before picking up his own spoon again.

 Hyunjin‘s POV.:

We finished our dinner in silence which was very rare in this group, only interrupted by the small wet sniffles coming from our leader. When the table was cleared said leader excused himself to his room and my eyes followed him with a doubtful look. Seungmin put a hand on my shoulder: „He is not going to rest, is he?“ I shook my head unsure. Felix walked past us with a smile: „I‘ll go check. If he doesn‘t I‘ll make him.“ And he was gone with a giggle. I followed him, standing in the door frame and watching the scene unfold in front of me. Chan was standing at his desk about to set up his laptop, unaware of the younger Aussie sneaking up on him. Then suddenly Felix tackled him sideways, away from the desk and onto the bed next to it. „Lixxie, I‘ll have to finish up a few things“, Chan gasped surprised. „No, you‘re not going to work anymore today“, Felix denied climbing on top of the older pinning him down as he tried to get up. Usually Felix would have been no match to the older but today Chan was to weak to fight him off. „Lixxie“ – „No, your favorite Koala wants cuddles“ – „Lix, I need to get up!“ – „No“ – „Lix-„ – „No“, the younger argued with finality. I suppressed a giggle as I watched Chan struggle, what I wasn‘t aware of was how his breath had started to hitch. He tried to twist sideways as much as possible with Felix on top of him and threw his arm over his face, tensing as he sneezed a rough-sounding double into the crook of his elbow. „Ugh, bless me!“, Chan groaned with a sniffle. Felix who was taken by surprise agreed: „Yeah, bless you!“ Catching his breath, Chan started to struggle again but Felix was now laying on top of him wrapping him in a tight hug while at the same time making sure he wouldn‘t get up. „You‘re not gonna move!“, he argued again and apparently Chan had tired himself out because he stopped squirming so much and instead returned the hug. „mhm, ‚m not gonna move“, he mumbled muffled by Felix‘ sweater. Felix made eye contact with me and we exchanged a smile. I ducked out of the room quickly to fetch the fluffy blanket that Felix kept at the foot of his bed. Upon returning I threw the blanket over them receiving a quite „thank you“ from Felix, Chan might already be passed out judging by his calm breathing, so I left after turning off the lights and shutting the door behind me. I‘m confident Felix had it handled.

[boleyn-falcon]

LiW week day 3- Maggie!

hehehe have a slightly angsty fic... as a treat

and yes the title of the fic is refrencing Bessie buuuut you’ll see why, i promise its abt Maggie heheh >:}

Wordcount - 1947

Triggers - slight blood and injury

@ladiesinwaitingweek​

Tour universe!

                                        Pop goes the Bassist...

      The Theatre in Glasgow was almost dead silent, with the exception of the plucking of bass strings and soft notes of a keyboard. The Ladies in Waiting arrived early to try and set up before the queens so they could start warmups a bit earlier than usual. Without the Queens’ normally loud laughter and voices filling the air, it was peaceful for Bessie and Joan to practice and set up in peace. The two light-haired musicians were enjoying the low energy of the theatre, Maria was out on a walk so there were no loud drums and Maggie was… nowhere to be seen? They had seen her get out of Joan’s car when they arrived, hell they even saw her enter the theatre and put her stuff down, but after that she just dispersed without a word. At least that what they thought until a loud bang erupted from the door by the stage, to reveal the guitarist with her hands behind her back.

    “You guys won’t believe what I found in a store down the street!”, The brunette moved her hands out in front of her to reveal a black hockey stick and a puck. She walked forward just enough to make it onto the stage but was stopped by a justifiably concerned pianist. “Maggie it’s cool and all but why? And why would you bring them up here, that’s just a bad idea waiting to happen..”, the shorter woman scoffed and gave an offended look and moved past her to the center of the stage, “C’mon Snowy-Joey it’ll be fine, I won’t do anything stupid I promise! When have I ever done something dumb on the job?”.  Joan just gave a defeated look and stepped to the side, “Well other than the basketball incident with Cleves, the volleyball net fiasco with Cathy, and-”, the pianist was cut off with a groan, “Well.. okay fine you can have the stick and puck up here for now, but don’t do anything that could cause trouble, please?”, Maggie just gave a small nod and a sly grin in response. “O-oh Mags! Maybe after the shows you could prac-”, the silver-haired Bassist was cut off by a laugh, “Oh dear, dear Bee-Bear… Why would i need to practice? It looks easy enough on TV, all you gotta do is hit the puck as hard as possible, observe!”

    Maggie placed the puck on the stage floor about 2 feet in front of her. She stood with her back facing where an audience would be watching and aimed her body to the left wall of the stage. She separates her feet and bends her knees, looking oddly concentrated. The stick is firmly grasped with both hands and its toe on the ground parallel from the black disk. Like an amateur golf player, the guitarist lifted the stick’s heal behind her head, and swung at the puck with all her might. “Wait Maggie I said-”, before Joan could finish, the rubber puck flew across the stage at what seemed to be the speed of light. It hit the top of the left wall with a loud cracking noise and ricocheted off the surface with near the same speed. Before anyone could move or say anything, the runaway rubber puck found its way to the side of the silver-haired unit of a bassist with a loud smack, followed by the sound of Bessie’s body hitting the ground with a thud.

         Maggie quickly dropped the stick and ran towards the unconscious woman before Joan could even start to mutter a ‘wait-’. She dropped to her knees beside her taller friend and turned her over, followed by Joan, obviously just as worried. “Shit shit SHIT!”, Maggie began to shake Bessie’s limp body vigorously before Joan grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands off of her limp bandmate, “Shaking her like that won’t fix anything Maggie! I told you to be careful and not do anything stupid!”. Joan didn’t necessarily sound angry, just panicked, disappointed, and even a confused, all the brunette woman could muster was a mixture of ‘I’s and ‘Um’s before she just gave up. “Well okay as long as Mari-”  “What in the Lord’s name is going on?!”  “Uh oh..”, Maggie and Joan turned to see a very angry looking Maria with a disapproving look plastered across her face. The drummer gave Maggie a side glare that basically just said, ‘you have five seconds to explain what you did before I rip you a new one’. Maggie stood up and walked over to Maria, meeting her eye to eye, “Okay so bought some hockey stuff and I wanted to prove I didn’t need practice to use it well and I kinda hit the puck so hard it flew off the wall and hit Bessie square in the side of the head…”, Maria’s nose started to flare and she was about to say something but Maggie continued, “I-I didn’t mean to hit her I swear! It was an accident! She’ll probably just wake up in a few minutes, as long as we don’t tell the Queens we’ll be fi-”  “Oh no young lady, not ‘we’ YOU, and since all you seem to care about is saving your own tail and less about our friend, you’re going to stay here and make sure she’s okay while me and Joan,” Maria strides over to Joan and grabs her by her frail arm, “are going to go have some coffee down the street. This is your chance to learn some responsibility for your actions”. Maria stomped off the stage with Joan still in her grasp, the pale girl could only turn her head and mouth a quick ‘good luck’ before they were out the door, leaving Maggie with a blacked-out Bessie, still laying on the floor by her bass.

   Maggie had no idea what she had gotten herself into. The first thing she could think to do was get Bessie off the stage and into a dressing room. Walking back over to the bassist, she stopped and grabbed Bessie’s limp forearm and started to drag. After about ten seconds of dragging, she dropped the arm, accidentally on Bessie’s face, and needed a better way of moving her. “Okay Bess we got this”, she leaned down and grabbed Bessie’s hips, and throwing her upper half over Maggie’s should like a sack of potatoes. The guitarist may be short, but she had some muscle, she’s able to lift things double her size and weight but this ability to having to lift all the band’s heavy equipment, apparently know even unconscious bass players. She jumped off the side of the stage and made her way towards the dressing rooms, deciding just to go to the first one she found. Opening door after door, she finally found a dressing room, and thankfully it even had a tiny grey sofa in the corner. Maggie dropped her friend on the sofa and stood back to get a better look. It had already been maybe ten minutes since she got knocked out cold and she didn’t show any signs of waking up soon, Maggie was starting to worry. “Okay okay Google prolly knows if this is normal or not, I bet this is all okay, yep Kathrine totally won’t murder me for this!”, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and began to type like there was no tomorrow, ‘how long do people normally stay knocked out for?’. She felt her heart sink slightly when she got her answer, it was only at most supposed to last five too ten minutes at most. She tried to calm down slightly and decided maybe getting Bessie’s hairband off might help? The smaller woman’s hand reached over and took the black band off but stopped once it was off, Bessie’s silver hair that was once hidden by the hairband...was stained red.

       Maggie dropped the hairband and started to shake. It may not have been the most blood, it was easily covered by the band, but it was enough to send the guitarist into a new level of panic. Seeing the crimson spot in her friend’s hair threw all of Maggie’s rationality and sense of reality out the door. She rushed to her unmoving bandmate’s side in an instant, grabbing her shoulders and trying to hold her upper half up slightly. Her shaking hand touched the spot of red in Bessie’s silver hair, she moved the hair to the side to see a small cut in her scalp. ‘Oh god oh god what have I done?!’ the thoughts screamed in her brain, it was almost as loud as the beating of her heart in her ears. All mind just kept racing and racing, screaming things over and over, ‘you killed her’ ‘this is your fault’ ‘Maria was right, your selfishness just killed Bessie’ ‘you could have prevented this, you know what this is? Its Anne… all over again, but this time the blood really is on your hands’. The last statement was the breaking point, she broke down. Her gross sobs began to rock her body, grabbing Bessie body she buried her head into her bandmate’s chest, her sobs started to even sound like muffled screaming. “God Bessie I’m so sorry!”, she stopped to take a shaky breath and to let out another sob, “Bessie I’m sorry! I should have listened...God your dead and its MY FAULT!”, those last two words became a scream that echoed throughout the backstage area. Maggie didn’t have the strength to continue forming sentences and just repeated pained ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘Please come back’s. The ocean eyed woman was so out of it, she didn’t even notice the arms that wrapped themselves around her body.

 “Calm down Little Pine Marten, calm down”, the now conscious woman began to shush the sobbing woman clinging to her. Maggie stiffened and pulled back, still crying. “You...You- your not-”, Bessie chuckled slightly and sat up fully, “Of course I’m not dead you idiot! Why in the world would you think that?”. The guitarist shushed slightly and cast her eyes at the ground, not daring to look at her very much alive friend in the eyes, “Do you remember what happened..?”, Bessie gave a small nod and waited for Maggie to continue, “Because I… I-I hit you with th-the puck and you hit the ground...It’s been over ten minutes and you-you weren’t waking up and… I took your hairband off and you were b-b-ble-”, Maggie’s own sobs cut her off. Bessie just gave her a warm smile and pulled maggie back into a hug. “And you c-could have d-died and it would have been because of ME!”, the small shriek that accompanied that last word made the silver-haired woman’s heartbreak. She pulled the smaller woman off of her and tilted her head up to meet her eyes, “Margret Lee listen to me”, Bessie’s smile made it obvious that she wasn’t mad but Maggie was anxious anyway, “Did you make a stupid decision? Yes, but everyone does. Yea it got me hurt but look I’m fine see? Trust me I’m nowhere near dead, and I’m not mad, I could never be mad at you Mags. Just next time, think before you act okay? So nothing like this happens again, It’s just a lesson to be learned”, the bassist finished her lecture with one last hug. Maggie could only cry more, but this time it was a mix of leftover guilt and gratitude, gratitude that her friend was okay and that she had learned something. She learned she really should think about others, but she also learned that her friends love her… no matter what.

here have a cursed edit i made while in the middle of writing this!

[imperfekti]

Tenipuri Party: Echizen Ryouma profile translation

TN:

In the absence of an official English version, this translation is intended to help those who can’t read the material in the original language. Please support Tenipuri by getting your own copy of this book - it is worth it! There are various ways of purchasing it even for those not living in or visiting Japan.

The pictures I have included in this post do not show full pages.

On Echizen’s style of speech: he uses boyish style with pretty straightforward and brief sentences. In Japan it wouldn’t be considered exactly polite in style, even if the content is not exactly rude.

I’m still working on Japanese, so there might be mistakes. Please let me know if you spot any translation errors so I can fix them here!

U-17 Japanese representative, middle schooler Seishun Gakuen tennis club player 33,432 votes

Leading to the stars, going beyond Tenimuhou - the samurai that conquers any heights!

Message

You’ve always been looking at me, haven’t you. I’m grateful for that. Thanks. Regardless of the ranking, I’m your number one. Right? Cheer for me more and more. Because I’ll take you along and go even higher.

Profile

Middle school 1st year / December 24th /  Capricorn / O type / 151 → 152.5 cm / 50 → 47 kg / Left handed

Special techniques: Twist serve, Drive A, Drive B, Drive C, Drive D, Cool Drive, Muga no kyouchi, Tenimuhou no kiwami, Samurai Drive, Hope (kanji: Hikaru Dakyuu)

Play style: All-rounder

Family: Father, mother, female cousin, cat (Karupin)

Father’s occupation: A temple’s substitute head priest

Hobbies: Clearing borrowed games, watching cat videos

Favourite saying: All or Nothing

Favourite color: Silver

Favourite foods: Fried fish (the type with not much bones), Chawanmushi, famous sweets

Favourite book: TENNIS LIFE (an American tennis magazine)

Favourite music: J-pop

Preferred type of person: Someone who looks good in a ponytail

Preferred date spot: Santa Monica Pier Pacific Park

Most wanted thing right now: A smart watch

Weakness: Early wake-ups, paparazzi

Elementary school: Los Angeles State Saint Youth Middle-school 

Committee: Library committee

Strong subjects: English, chemistry

Weak subjects: Home-ec (cooking), Japanese 

Often-visited place in school: Under the big tree behind the school

Uses allowance on: Fanta

Skills beyond tennis: Being liked by animals, peeling fruits cleanly, horseback riding(?) 

Routines during tournaments: Soaking in an open-air bath

Favourite anniversary: Any day as long as there’s tennis

Preferred travel destination: Snow viewing onsen

Present for a special person: Just tell me what you want

Interview

“As long as I can play tennis, I don’t care which team I play for”

Congratulations on being reinstated as Japan’s representative! For Echizen-senshu, what was the experience of fighting as an American representative like?

What was it like…? Normal. As long as I can play tennis, the country is irrelevant.

Did you have a strong desire to play on the same team as Ryouga-senshu?

No, I wanted to play against him. But in the end, he was being evasive and escaped.

Where there any impressions you had looking at the Japanese team from the outside?

They’ve changed a bit, somehow. Fuji-senpai, Atobe-san, that person called “the child of god”. And… Akutsu-san too. Not bad, everyone.

Is that the reason you returned to Japan’s team?

Not really. It’s just that when I thought about who were the people that made me strong… If you’re fighting together with someone, I guess I’d do it here.

Sometimes, a samurai-like aura can be felt around Echizen-senshu.

Hmm… I don’t know since I can’t tell myself. When I was fighting the French prince, I guess it was said that he was a knight and I was a samurai. He was a troublesome guy, but the match with him was fun. Well, I’ll win next time too. The horseback match was a tie, but next time I’ll win that one too.

Party Talk

Q: Is there any table with players you’re interested in? A: Not really… But I guess there are strong looking guys at the German table. Well, I’d beat all of them.

Q: You offered Fanta to Tokugawa-san, didn’t you? A: He drank it in one go. I wonder if it was that good.

Q: Could it be you’re having taiyaki for the first time? A: Yeah. Why is it shaped like a fish? I’ll eat from the head side.

Q: Your suit is wonderful. Did you tie the necktie yourself? A: …How about not treating me like a kid? Well, I had it tied for me.

Q: Ah, suddenly a cat is clinging to Echizen-kun...! A: The Australian rep’s cat? There, there…

Fashion

“When we met by coincidence the other day, you were wearing a T-shirt with a strange design. What country’s brand was that?” (Yukimura)

“I’ll give you some hand-me-downs next time. But maybe they’ll be too big for you, Chibisuke?” (Ryouga)

“Koshimae is always wearing a cap! Lend it to me too!” (Tooyama)

“Basically I like clothes that are easy to move in. I guess I wear half-pants and shorts a lot.” (Echizen)

“Heeey Echizen! Are you wearing the socks we bought for color variation when we went shopping?” (Momoshiro)

Album

This is an album that happened to be in my backpack when I came to Australia. I think I got it after the nationals when I was leaving for America. Look at this and remember, they said. …But email and phones exist. Mada mada ne. 

Room

Looks like stuff from America has increased While I was gone, mom and the others have rearranged my room, and exchanged stuff like the TV for a new one. The stuff I was made to take to the camp has also increased. I always play tennis at home too, though, so I’m only in the room when I sleep.  

History

Age 0 December 24 Birth

Age 5 Eats his beloved dried kombu at home Lives together with Ryouga for a short while in Los Angeles During elementary school, wins American Jr. tournament 4 times in a row

Age 11 September Graduates from Los Angeles State Saint Youth Returns to Japan with his family Goes to an onsen for the first time, likes it too much, sticks to using a bathtub (*1)

Age 12 April Enters Seishun Gakuen's middle school department, becomes a regular in the tennis club At a family restaurant, orders a kid’s meal recommended by Momoshiro Victory at district preliminaries finals (Fudoumine), wins against Ibu in S2 Loses to Tezuka at the courts under the overpass

June In Tokyo prefectural quarterfinals (St. Rudolph), wins against Yuuta in S3 Victory of the tournament (Yamabuki), wins against Akutsu in S2 Struggles with classics at the end of term tests, study session at Fuji’s house

July In the first round of the Kantou regionals (Hyoutei), wins against Hiyoshi as the reserve player Second round (Midoriyama), wins against Kiraku in S3

July 24 Wins against Kirihara at a tennis club in Kanagawa

July 27 Tournament victory (Rikkai), wins against Sanada in S1

August 17 Nationals tournament second round (Higa), wins against Tanishi in S3

August 19 Quarterfinals (Hyoutei), wins against Atobe in S1 Semifinals (Shitenhouji), has a one point match with Tooyama that ends in a draw Drinks “Cola” in the yakiniku battle

August 21 Loses his memory during the training with Nanjirou in Karuizawa 

August 23 Nationals finals (Rikkai), arrives at the stadium by Atobe's helicopter Regains his memory through playing against his past rivals Wins against Yukimura in S1, wins the nationals championship

August 26 Goes to America

November Returns to Japan, participates in the U-17 camp Doesn’t play against Minami in the friendly-fire matches, loss Participates in the mountaintop training With Tanishi and Kenya, finds a secret passageway at the depths of the cave Protects Tokugawa, has to leave the camp; goes to America together with Ryouga Beats 24 American representative contenders, becomes an American representative Does BBQ with Kiko and Dudu, fries fish

December U-17 pre-world cup begins Faces Tube Republic, wins the first match U-17 world cup begins Match against Sweden, wins against their captain (*2) Calms his worries, returns to Japan’s team and becomes a representative Beats Aramenoma in an unofficial match Gets lost with Tooyama in the athlete village (*3) Quarterfinals (France), wins against the Prince in S3

TN:

*1 I don’t really understand the sentence fully, so this is a bit of a guess.

*2 In the magazine release, this match was against Denmark, but was changed into Sweden in the volume release. 

*3 Literally “becomes a lost child”.

[ernestsinclairs]

NS*W Alphabet - Raleigh x MC

A - Aftercare

The first couple of times you’d slept with him, you’d expected little to no aftercare. And like many times before, you were right. It was common knowledge that Raleigh hadn’t had any real serious girlfriends before, mostly flings and one night stands and haphazard relationships with an array of models that only lasted a few short months at best. For him, it was do it and go. Not anymore. Slowly, but noticeably, he began to come around. First it was the quick cuddle after the two of you fell back into bed, then the steadfast presence of his arms when you began to drift off into sleep, then take out arriving just as the two of you came down from each other. 

B - Body Part

Like so many other men, Raleigh is a sucker for the chest. Every time you slip into another one of Zadie’s stage costumes or a low cut gown for some award show, the cameras are there - as are his eyes. In your more private hours, when the two of you are right in the middle of it, his hands are running down your chest, cupping and massaging while you groan beneath him.

C - Cum

Raleigh definitely prefers to do it inside of you if he can. It just adds to that feeling, that feeling of closeness and intimacy and proximity. In the end, that’s what he craves, and it’s the perfect ending to a perfect night.

D - Dirty Secret

Though he’s usually the one who will take control when the two of you get it on, he has absolutely no problem with letting you take the lead. It’s relaxing sometimes to let someone else take the reins for once, to just lie back and enjoy for a few hours in a hectic schedule that’s 24/7, three hundred and sixty five days a year. 

E - Experience

There’s absolutely no way in hell Raleigh’s not experienced. He’s been one of the top bachelors ever since his boy band debut all those years ago, and now, as a solo superstar, he’s the one everyone’s chasing after. Ever since the first time the two of you slept together, you knew he had quite a lot of experience, and you knew he was going to teach you some things.

F - Favorite Position

Definitely against the wall. Actually, it doesn’t have to be a wall, it can be anything - a window, a pillar, just something solid that he can back you up on. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t give him a rush seeing you pressed up against him as you nipped at his neck. If it wasn’t that, Raleigh would be perfectly fine with you on top too, just so he could see all of you and run his hands up and down your body before pressing kisses on your stomach that tended to start to trail a little lower. 

G - Goofy

Raleigh has a pretty big ‘why not?’ attitude about doing the do. He teases a lot, infuriatingly so with that mocking smile and tiny touch of sarcasm. It’s more a seductive style of mockery rather than lighthearted laughter. Not that you’d have it any other way. It was pretty hot.

H - Hair

Sure, his PR team might have made Raleigh cut his hair for the persona of it all, but there was still plenty to run your fingers through as he pressed you up against the wall and pull when he moved against you. 

I - Intimacy

Raleigh had a reputation and touch starved wasn’t one of them. But the more time you spent with him, the more you realized it should be part of said reputation. Right from the start, you noticed tiny touches everywhere - on your waist, trailing your forearm, tiny kisses on your neck and cheek wherever you went - he just had to be touching you in some way or another. After a long and passionate night, the two of you would fall back with you curled up in Raleigh’s arms as he continued those tiny, light touches, which might not be so chaste after all. 

J - Jack Off

A concert tour lasts for several months of hard travel already, and for a star of Raleigh’s caliber, the term ‘world tour’ is pretty common in his vocabulary (and that sweet, sweet contract). If he’s going to be away from you for that long, waiting for a break in the tour schedule or a performance where the two of you will collide on your respective tours, he’s got some needs. 

K - Kink

It doesn’t happen inside the bedroom, it’s what happens outside of it. Nobody knows for certain that Raleigh’s trying to touch you underneath the table at the Grammys. People think, but they don’t know. And that’s the magic of it all.

L - Location

If he can do it, he does it. When on tour or performing, Raleigh will pull you back into the tour buses or in the dressing rooms or behind the screens backstage for a quickie. Literally no area is safe. There was the time where he pulled you in for one right before your Coachella set in what looked like Travis Scott’s dressing room. Before the Grammys, he pulled you aside in a closet right next to Beyonce’s prep area. Not that you were complaining - the risk of it all gave a little rush to all the situations. 

M - Motivation (what turns them on, what gets them going)

To Raleigh, nothing’s hotter than watching you sing a melody on a new song or rehearsing or just plain performing. And seeing as that’s your entire job description, it’s quite often that this happens. It’s just the way you do that power walk across that stage or hit that high note illuminated by the fireworks behind you, and then run excitedly off the stage when the lights dim right into his arms. And of course, just a slight suggestive touch like a stroke of the thigh underneath a table at the Met Gala will do the trick. Nothing gets him on more than being teased with the very thing he just can’t do in the moment. 

N - NO (what turns them off, what is a no for them)

Anything with other people involved. Sure, he might joke about it or still have his reputation as one of the biggest playboys in the industry, but Raleigh’s commitment to you is dead serious. When he’s with you, tracing your curves under the sheets and pressing himself into you, it’s all about the two of you and no one else. If anyone tried to get in on the situation, you’d probably end up hauling a couple bank statements to the police station to make bail. 

O - Oral

Raleigh absolutely loves when you give, probably from seeing you pressed over him, eyes looking straight at him as you take him on. There’s that absolute rush just from thinking about it, and he most definitely reciprocates. Like said before, he’s definitely experienced. So when he gives, you can be sure it’s going to be a good time. 

P - Pace

Between going slow and going fast, Raleigh most definitely goes for the latter. He absolutely loves going a little faster and a little rougher than most men would do, but if you want a slower, more romantic experience, he’ll definitely do it though. 

Q - Quickie

Some people were more established, preferring the extended privacy of the bedroom or home. Raleigh was not one of those people. Any time he could get a chance, he took it, even if might entail a few embarrassing encounters with interlopers. For him, pleasure was pleasure, and it didn’t matter how long or how private it was as long as it was with you.

R - Risk

The more risk the better. You’d teased Raleigh about his penchant for risk and his nonchalant attitude about ever getting caught. Any level of risk didn’t really deter him, and you soon came around to it. Besides, the more it happen, the more you started to enjoy it. He was right - the adrenaline more than made up for it. 

S - Stamina

That man can literally go all night. In fact, that became the subject for a song for one of his upcoming albums. One round? Okay. Two rounds? Cool. Three rounds? Okay, now we’re getting started. Not having stamina just wasn’t Raleigh’s thing 

T - Toy

He doesn’t necessarily use them or have them in his arsenal, but he’s not going to complain if you bring one home. But to him, there’s really nothing hotter than getting rid of all that extra fluff and rituals and just things getting in the way and getting right down to business.

U - Unfair (does he tease, and if so, how?)

Oh please. Raleigh’s entire brand and persona is about being that rebel, yes, but also that serial heartbreaker and major tease. You can bet that carries over into your bedroom as well. He’ll start by kissing you all over, starting from nipping at your neck and working downwards, always bringing you right to the threshold of pleasure before drawing back and making you work for it all over again. For him, the fun’s also in the chase, and in this case, the buildup.

V - Volume

Raleigh’s a talker. And an infuriating one at that. It’s not just dirty talk or some kind of romantic sweet talking. It’s also the slight teasing and banter the two of you already do pretty much every waking hour that you’re together. Good luck showing any type of desire, because he seizes on that fact. That man’s impossible, but in a good way.

W - Wild Card (a random headcanon)

The two of you nearly stumbled into a tabloid scandal while on vacation. You and Raleigh had ended up renting a yacht (thankfully he didn’t crash this one), and he proceeded to do what he did best to you right on the deck. The tabloids picked it up and proceeded to run it, and you thought Fiona would have a stroke and die right there. Thankfully, the pictures got bought back and the crisis was averted, but not exactly for long. 

X - X-ray (what’s going on down there

Lemme’ just say you’re eating good

Y - Yearning (how high is their drive?)

Raleigh’s drive is pretty high, definitely higher than any others you might have been with it. Multiple times a week is the norm, especially the honeymoon period, though you doubted Raleigh had fully grown out of that phase. You can be in the most chaste and unassuming of situations like brewing the coffee in the morning or calling Fiona about a future engagement and he’ll be there, waiting for just the right moment to pounce. The man never stops. 

Z - ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep for quite a bit afterwards, preferring to let you drift off first and make you comfortable and well rested for the day ahead. Raleigh’s always been somewhat of an insomniac or night owl, seeing as that was the time he’d write his music or get his ideas flowing when he was in the middle of writing albums or singles or whatnot. That extended over into the bedroom, but instead of nurturing a new song, he was nurturing you, tucking the covers over you and rubbing steady circles on your back and giving you that nightly kiss on the forehead he always did. 

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

@sinclaire-made-me-sin @lifeat314universe @isabella-choices @cora-nova @gonewithpersephone @foulcroissantknightpalace @xkinikilig @writinghereandthere @betelgeusebee @thepotatobleh @alwayslietohidethetruth @donknowhowtonamemyself @drink-of-paradise @poeticscolt @adricnraines @pixelberrytrash @buckett-harrington @sunattuned-vance @noeschoices @katie-sinclaire @makitokito @thequeenschoice @donutsgirl36 @myname-is-ehm @chanceisagoodboy @agentmilayawithshield @lightofcordonia @desiree-0816

[cardandpixel]

Die of the Dead - A KickStarter preview

2-5 Players, apx 40min, dice manipulation/area control, Radical8 Games Designers: James Allen and Mark Stockton-Pitt Artwork: Rusembell AS EVER THIS IS NOT A PAID/REIMBURSED PREVIEW, C&P just like the game a lot! Halloween in the UK means cheap masks at Asda, not answering the door for 5 days after 6pm, and eating all the bagged sweets you bought with no intention of ever giving out. For me as a sound designer and composer, it also means hours upon hours of sitting in front of a sequencer from August onwards creating sounds and characters with the sole intent of scaring the behecksus out of the general public. This year is going to be a weird one, with that little viral beastie still kicking around, so a few game nights playing monster and ghost games might be on the cards instead. We like to think of Halloween as a big deal in Europe and N America, but for residents of Central and South America, the end of October is a much more cultural affair. Nov 1st &  2nd sees the celebration of Dia de Muertes – The Day of the Dead. What strikes you first about anything to do with the celebration is the sheer splendour of colour and design. Just about everything involved with the celebration is a panoply of vibrancy, echoing the central philosophy of the holiday of celebrating, not mourning, the souls of those who have passed. What also struck me, was the playfulness of the festivities which often include sharing not just good stories of beloved friends and relatives, but often the funny and ridiculous, even foolish stories of their lives too. Though cultural misappropriation is a very lively topic in boardgames at the moment (and rightly so – 3Minute Boardgames’ current work on respectful handling of the Māori culture in games is a good example, as well as the many discussions over slavery portrayal as part of the #BLM dialogue). The joy, colour and playfulness of Dia de Muertes lends itself more comfortably as a subject for a potential boardgame to me – and yet, there are surprisingly few. Two in a relatively short list are the new version of Skull (though in design only), and the 2017 card game Dia de los Muertos. ARTISTIC DESIGN/COMPONENTS So, loving the aesthetic of the celebration as I do, I was drawn immediately to a small table at Airecon this year where an explosion of colour greeted us to the game Die of the Dead from Radical 8 Games. Die of the Dead is a dice manipulation / area control game where players take the roles of friendly spirits, gently guiding the souls of the departed up the marigold steps and back into the land of the living for the festival. The first player to have one of their souls reach the village step of the altar, is the winner. I’m shameless in my admission that I’m going to be more interested in a game that looks great – I know, but I can’t deny it. Die of the Dead had me hooked immediately. It looks utterly beautiful and features some astonishingly original components. What I hadn’t realised until I dug a little deeper, was how far-reaching this design goes. Radical 8 have not merely lifted a beautiful design aesthetic from a cultural phenomenon (unlike many who slap on sugar skull make up for Halloween, blissfully unaware of any deeper significance), but have done this game – properly. The design, the gameplay, the mechanics, and the components are all deeply inspired by the celebration and in an impressively respectful way.

Just taking the components as a starting point: The tokens – incense, candles, bread and marigolds are all significant gifts laid on the beautiful altars during the festival – the marigolds or cempasủchil especially are highly significant, their scent said to guide souls back to their family homes, an idea echoed in the mechanical use of the token. The 3D stepped altar (or ofrendas) – is highly suggestive of both the domestic and public stepped altars that are laid out with colourful gifts for the dead, again, echoed beautifully in the game. The player boards – these are holding sites for souls before their ascendency. The dice – are representations of the souls themselves and their movement around the board is highly thematic of the journeys that friends and relatives’ souls make over the festivities. The caskets – are both beautifully rendered solid boxes, but also functional as dice shakers / hidden resource boxes – each highly thematically and individually decorated.

It’s truly difficult to know where to start with this game as it has all been done so very well. The press pack for the forthcoming Kickstarter even cites the involvement of a cultural advisor and a Mexican artist, Rusembell on the project, and it shines through on everything to do with this game. It’s a lot of time, trouble and thoughtful effort that should be envied by many other designers.  No opportunity to reflect the splendour of the festival has been wasted at all in the design of this game, and Radical 8 should be very proud.

GAMEPLAY But no game is really safe from scrutiny of its mechanics, no matter how beautiful it is, and happily, Die of the Dead does not disappoint here either. In Die of the Dead, the players are each trying to guide their supply of souls (dice) from their home player board, via the caskets, to their final destination on the 3D altar at the end of the play area, back to the land of the living. Players will prepare their souls, add them to caskets, undergo a number of ‘area control’ style comparisons and finally, ascend their souls onto the steps of the altar where they may be rewarded with gifts or abilities.

The 4 caskets are the real heart of the game. It is here that most of the player interaction takes place, and it uses a clever and unique little mechanism to transport souls from the first casket to their eventual goal on the altar steps. Players will be adding their dice (souls) to the open first casket and from there on, the caskets are in constant motion. A player will take one action on their turn, by selecting a casket and carrying out the action associated with it. Each casket location has a different action, and these are noted on cards numbered 1-4 underneath the caskets themselves. Each casket also has a secondary ‘consequence’ action at the bottom of the card. Casket position 1 – players can add 3 prepared souls or 1 ‘free’ (unprepared) soul. If there are 2 players’ souls in the casket, the casket is shaken, if there’s a 1 rolled – move the casket along.

Casket position 2 – players may prepare 2 souls. The casket is then shaken and the souls compared (a variant on area majority) and the winner prepares another soul. If a 1 is rolled, the casket moves along.

Casket position 3 – the casket is shaken straight away, any duplicate souls are removed leaving 1 soul per player min in the casket. The player then takes a token, allowing additional abilities.

Casket position 4 – the casket is shaken and the souls compared again. 2 of the winner’s souls are ‘ascended’ to the altar steps. The casket is then either: moved along, a power soul gained (more later) or 1 of your own souls ascended to the steps.

Once again – this shifting and constant play for majority also feels very thematic to me and reminiscent of the playfulness of the festival itself “Oh our Uncle was so argumentative, he could have a fight in his own coffin!” I only noticed going through the rulebook that this was actually reflected in the artwork on the action cards, but when I was playing the demo I recall thinking that each of the locations was a little like a different aspect of the soul’s journey. Arrival, sorting, a little tussle with your neighbours and finally ascendancy. Always nice when a game rewards you like that by confirming you got the idea right! The use of the dice is interesting and once you get your head round the travel of the caskets, can provoke some immensely strategic decision making. Only 3 dice can be held in preparation, so the timing of free slots for preparation or potential return of dice from losing roll comparisons in the caskets makes for some very complex chain decisions (which then, of course, can be overturned in a second by another player’s actions). Dice in your pool are considered ‘free souls’ and usually have to be prepared before the caskets, but Casket 1 allows a free soul a ‘bye’ which is useful if you have no prepared souls or have no empty slots. There are also ‘Power Souls’ which can be won on the altar or selected by the Casket 4 action. These have a skull in place of the 3 & 4 and are considered wild in comparison rolls. Ascending souls means bringing them into the family altar – the very cool 3D steps at the end of the table. The first ascended soul goes on an empty space on stair 1. A player may select which bonus space would be best for them. The more players land on stair 1, the less choice of bonus, until the final player in a 5 pl game, who has to use an empty space with no bonus. As soon as a soul is placed on the 9th step, the game ends and the player who owns that soul is the winner (ie not the person who placed it – who may well be different due to Casket 4’s secondary action) This feels like a game that warrants replay to improve your strategy each time, though you are still delightfully at the whim of player interaction. This sort of ‘out of my hands’ game really appeals to me, it prevents run-away leads, often levels play a little and makes for much more fun for less experienced players. I like that skill is rewarded, but that it is not the sole way to win. The tokens are won either from Casket 4 or again as an ascendancy bonus. The tokens boards are double sided: Side A being a generally simpler action; Side B for a more strategic game. Eg The Candle on side A allows the caskets to simply be moved along, however, Side B allows 2 adjacent caskets to be swapped. Again, this allows for some much deeper strategic gameplay – especially tokens which allow ‘peeking’ into the caskets. I have a notoriously terrible memory and lost track of what souls I had in what caskets very quickly so a mitigating token I could use at just the right moment was really useful.

CONCLUSION York-based Radical 8 don’t have a huge back catalogue as yet, but Die of the Dead deserves to do really well as it’s an absolute belter and hopefully the start of great things to come. I’m not going to lie, there were a few times during the shortened demo, where the game was a lot to take in, but that’s as much about the way I learn games as the game itself. I learn best from going step-by-step thru the rules whilst shuffling pieces around and there just isn’t time for that in the scope of a convention demo (though the guys were amazingly patient and very clear with their explanation) – I did keep running to the casket ability cards during the demo though, so I have to hope they might put a small set of player aids in the box for 53 yr olds who are sat at the end of a 5pl table (hint). The game packs a satisfying amount of gameplay into its relatively small box, and the quality of the components is insanely good. I would happily play the handmade version from Airecon, but I’m guessing the final production will be even better.

It scratches a lot of gaming itches for me: variations in play each turn; lots of decision making; huge numbers of routes to winning; a nice bit of player interaction; and a decent chunk of screw-over and luck that means you can always blame someone else for your bad gameplay. I like the attempts to make for a simpler initial game, especially as there is a lot to keep track of in your first game. The player boards are actually doubled sided allowing an asymmetric start bonus for each player, and of course, the Token cards are double sided also. I appreciate efforts such as these as I think it helps newer gamers, slow learners (like me) and more casual gamers alike. I also appreciate the Open Casket variant which allows potentially for some much more devious play. However – there’s always a dark side, and it wouldn’t be fair to let this go in a balanced overview. Yes, the game has a fairly steep learning curve and a lot of concepts to take in from the get-go, but any game with a lot of strategic depth can have that same issue and so long as you don’t mind that, this game is no different from many others. But, my big issue is the one that has dogged mine and ‘Ers gaming life for years – 2 player variants. Die of the Dead does class itself as 2-5 player, and honestly, without going too much under the hood, I can’t really see a reason why it shouldn’t work normally at 2 players, but that’s for the designers to tell me as I’ve doubtless missed something. But…. The solution suggested in the box is one of my least favourite ways of solving the 2pl issue – effectively a dummy hand. My feeling on this solution has always been – if a game needs a dummy hand, then it doesn’t actually play at that player count. Especially here, as there is actually little stopping the dummy hand from winning. Nothing says you played a crap game more than the dummy hand actually winning. I’m genuinely hoping Radical 8 can come up with a much better solution for this between the KS campaign, and the final release. It’s worth it as it strikes me as an ideal 2pl game. It also feels to me like a great ‘strategic beer & pretzels’ game – of which I guarantee there are very few. It’s not far off as far as I can see, which is why the current rulebook 2pl solution feels so clamped on with my sort of standard of welding.  It seems particularly odd especially when so much variation in the game has been offered for higher/lower strategy. I only have a preview copy of the rulebook at the moment, and I had to read it thoroughly to make sure I’d recalled the game correctly - and I know there’s a lot of time between now and delivery, but it’s already a pretty decent rulebook and one that I’d feel confident learning the game from scratch from. It’s very clear and describes some quite complex ideas very clearly. I sincerely wish Radical 8 well with this on Kickstarter when it launches on August 25th 2020. The price looks to be about £27 + shipping, which feels like an absolute bargain for a game that’s been this well presented. It’s a lot of game for your money both design-wise and strategically and I would heartily recommend at least paying the page a visit. Happy gaming y’all!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/radical8games/die-of-the-dead

Photo attributions: Beautiful game pics - Ross Connell (moregamesplease) @moregamespls Catrina image - By Paolaricaurte - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0 Altar image - By AmbarCCPM - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0 Artwork: Rusembell @Rusembell rusembell.deviantart.com Other images – official rulebook and our own.

[scandalsavagefanfic]

So, you know how Bruce has been having a mental breakdown in the recent Batman comics, and he's practically alone in Gotham ATM? I keep thinking, what if Batman snapped and ends up actually killing someone? Because right now, he's patrolling alone and there's no one to pull him back when he goes too far. Except, in this situation, Jason arrives just in time to see what Bruce has done (because he's still running Iceberg). 1/2

So this is slightly different than what you asked for and short. But it should be a decent kick to the heart.

Blind Justice - Read on AO3

Rating: Gen-Teen? (a villain dies)

Words: 883

————————————————————————————–

“B?”

Jason reaches out to put a hand on Batman’s shoulder but Bruce bats it away without so much as a glance.

Frowning, Jason moves to the other side of the person the older man is kneeling over.

Or body, he should say, after he presses his fingers to the pulse-point on KGBeast’s wrist and feels nothing but quickly cooling flesh.

This is not good.

“What happened, B?” He says it as gently as he can. He’s trying not to jump to conclusions. Trying really hard not to think about how it’ll help his case if Bruce went “too far”. Because he knows that’s selfish. Bruce isn’t him and killing someone would… well, it’ll kill Bruce. Eat him up inside until he’s no longer himself. It won’t help Jason or anyone else.

Batman doesn’t speak just stares at the body, hands resting palms up in his lap. Bloody.

“Bruce,” Jason snaps, just a little, just enough to get his attention. It works. His mentor’s white lenses rise to meet Jason’s eyes. “What happened? Did he fall or something?”

The Bat shakes his head. “No… I… I…”

“There’s no way you killed him, B. So just take a breath and—”

“I did,” Bruce’s voice is quiet, a horrified whisper, scratchy and broken. Jason freezes. “I did. I… I beat him and I… I just couldn’t… He shot Dick and I just… I couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. I… I broke his neck.”

It takes every bit of training he’s received over the years, everything from Bruce, the League, the All-Caste, to not react. He’d taken his helmet off when he arrived, thought it was more personal, that it might help that Bruce could see his face.

He regrets that decision as his eyes start to sting with unwanted tears.

Leaving is an option. A very small part of Jason knows he’d be completely justified if he left Bruce to deal with this on his own. Especially after that. Those words. The thing Jason has always known, that everyone has told him he’s crazy for thinking.

That if Dick was murdered, Bruce would kill whoever dared to take him from the world.

It’s not even a monster like the Joker. It’s KGBeast, for fuck’s sake. A C-lister at best. Not a mass-murdering, death worshiping psychopath. And it wasn’t a vicious beat down of a kid. It was a calculated assassination attempt. Dick didn’t feel every bone in his body break, didn’t get his skin seared off, didn’t gasp for breath only to fill his lungs with smoke and suffocate. It was a bullet to the head. Quick. Humane. Except that…

Dick is not even dead. He’s alive and arguably better off without the memory of Nightwing.

Leaving is definitely his option.

Jason swallows the huge lump in his throat. Then he fits his helmet back over his head before taking a deep breath for what he’s about to do.

Batman’s eyes track Jason as he leans forward again, this time pushing his fingers against the would-be assassin’s throat.

There’s nothing different. Nothing new. The bastard is definitely dead.

But Bruce is a mess. And there’s no way his certainty that he killed the guy will hold up if Jason shoots out the foundation.

“Well, B,” he says as he stands and unholsters his gun, “Once again, you just can’t seem to bring yourself to finish the job. All these assholes who try to kill your kids? You’d think you’d manage to follow through at least once.”

The confusion has barely settled on Bruce’s face when it’s replaced by shock. Bruce flinches away from the body as Jason puts a bullet right between the Beast’s eyes.

“There,” Jason sneers, letting some of his real anger and bitterness creep into his voice. “Now the fucker who tried to kill Dick is actually dead. So stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

He turns and stalks toward his bike at the alley exit while Bruce gets unsteadily to his feet.

“Jason… You shouldn’t’ve—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, old man,” Jason barks, spinning on his heel to look back at his mentor.

The grim, determined set of Batman’s jaw tells Jason his hunch was right. All Bruce needed to absolve himself was a plausible alternative.

This is Gotham. The cops won’t even do a proper autopsy. They’ll take Batman’s word for it; the wounds will match with the story and they won’t look past it.

Bruce may always suspect, may have doubts. But he’ll never be able to bring himself to face the real truth.

Jason’s insides are vibrating with anger and hurt. Tears are welling in his eyes under the helmet and he’s infinitely grateful for the electronic modulator that artificially steadies his voice.

“I’m leaving,” he says, swinging a leg over his motorcycle. “And this time, I’m not coming back. Don’t look for me. Don’t call for me. You won’t find me, and I won’t answer.”

He’s fought it for a long time; tried so hard to make it work. But this chapter of his life is over. Cobblepot can have his stupid casino when he comes to. It’s time to ditch bats and birds and the shithole that is Gotham City.

It hurts. But Jason doesn’t look back as he speeds past the city limits.

[twdfanfic-multifandom]

"Call it plan B. Hell, call it plan Z. But I am packing the good drugs."

Daryl x Reader

*Set in season 6*

The heart monitor beeped rhythmically and Denise sighed, pulling the thermometer from Scott's mouth. His skin was a sickly shade. We didn't need a thermometer or a heart monitor to know that he was doing badly - and it didn't help that the infirmary was excruciatingly low on medical supplies.

"So what do you need?" You asked Denise while scanning the empty shelves of the room, pen and paper in hand. Daryl was perched on the edge of the windowsill staring at Scott's weak body.

The bullet wound inflicted upon by Sturgess about a week prior wasn't showing any signs of improvement, and Alexandria's make-shift doctor was becoming increasingly worried. Desperate and anxious, she'd come to you and Daryl to ask for help.

"Painkillers, definitely. Antibiotics, too. Gauze, bandages, antiseptic," she listed the various items, counting each on her finger as she named them. You stopped writing halfway through 'antibiotics'; Denise was going way too fast. You sighed and balled up the paper, tossing at across the room at Daryl. The paper smacked him square in the face and he shot you a 'what the hell?' look.

"Pay attention, Dixon. We're doing this together." 

The archer shot up off the windowsill and brushed past you.

"Yeah, yeah. Medicine and shit. Got it," he said flippantly and you rolled your eyes. Offering Denise a reassuring smile, you left the room and followed Daryl to the armory.

After grabbing the necessary weapons, the two of you hopped into a crappy blue truck and headed out of the community and towards a pharmacy about an hour's drive out. The drive felt short, and soon enough the old brakes were screeching the truck to a halt outside a dilapidated building.

The parking lot was littered with papers and other trash tumbling around lightly in the breeze, while a few walkers limped aimlessly around in front of the building. 

"Ready?" Daryl asked you as the two of you made your quiet exit from the truck, weapons raised. You nodded. As you approached, the walkers suddenly found direction and started walking towards the both of you, jaws snapping hungrily. It wasn't long before the half-a-dozen grotesque corpses were stilled and lifeless on the paving, easily taken out by your knife and Daryl's crossbow.

Without the snarls of the dead, the sound of your footsteps seemed loud as you walked towards the pharmacy. A few of the windows were smashed in but the glass doors seemed to still be locked in place.

Silently you said a prayer and hoped that it hadn't totally been ransacked. Scott's life - and maybe many others in the future - depended on these supplies.

Daryl carefully maneuvered himself through the broken window before offering you a hand, which you gratefully took.

"Stay behind me," the man instructed gruffly. The two of you had been a great team since you first arrived at the prison, and you'd frequently go on runs together. Despite the number of times you'd proved your capabilities, Daryl seemed to always be protective of you. It was kind of annoying, but it also left your heart feeling warm and you couldn't help but be grateful for the over-protective asshole with the angel-wing vest.

Ignoring him, you remained next to him as the two of you scanned the building. Much to your relief, it was clear of walkers. Unfortunately it also seemed to be clear of anything remotely useful; the shelves were barren and dusty, save for a box of condoms.

Upon further inspection you saw that it was grape flavor, and you shoved it inside your mostly empty backpack. Daryl eyed you incredulously, making you blush.

"What?" You said defensively, feeling as if you'd just been caught doing something inappropriate. "People back home might need 'em. Not everyone is celibate like you, Dixon," you teased and kept walking, ignoring the way he gawked at you.

"Whatever," the archer mumbled.

Glass and dust crunched beneath your dirty boots as you continued scouring the emptied building. It was difficult to find medical supplies considering that it was one of the first things that people scavenged for nowadays, so it wasn't a surprise to find that there wasn't even a single Asprin to be found.

"It's a bust," you said with a sigh as you mentally said your goodbyes to Scott. Closing your eyes, you leaned against the dirty wall and pinched the bridge of your nose in an attempt to release the tension building in your temples. It was something you'd done for as long as you could remember. Headaches were as frequent in your old life as they were now.

"Hold up," Daryl said as you snapped your eyes open and followed his gaze. There was a door just beyond the prescription counter. Flecks of gray paint chipped off the metal door, leaving it looking mottled and decaying. Moving forward. Daryl tried the silver handle. It didn't budge.

"I've got it." You approached the door and pulled the lock pick set out of your jean pocket. One of the reasons why you went on runs so often is because of your valuable lock-picking skills, something you had learned on the internet a few years prior to the outbreak. It wasn't something you'd ever admitted considering that it took a lot of the 'bad-ass' energy out of the skill. After about a minute, the lock clicked and you entered the room cautiously, Daryl so close behind you that you could feel his warm breath tickle your neck. You shivered and your stomach fluttered. It annoyed you how quickly he could make you feel like a hormonal high school girl. The worst part was that he didn't even realize he was doing it.

"Holy shit," Daryl muttered under his breath, snapping you back to reality. The room was fully stocked - various pill bottles, packages, and fluid-filled bags lined the racks. Scott was going to be just fine.

Rushing forward, you got to work on finding the right medicines before stuffing your bag full of antibiotics and other pills. Daryl read the labels of various bottles through his shaggy hair before shoving them into his backpack. Scanning the names of everything he was taking - Ambien, Fentanyl, Nytol, and a variety of opioids and sleeping pills - you scoffed loudly. He glanced over his shoulder at you and did a double-take when he realized you were staring disbelievingly.

"Do you realize about half of those things are more likely to kill Scott than they are to heal him? Saving him is Plan A, Dixon."

The archer shrugged and kept shoving away the heavy medication. The toned muscles moved beneath his tanned skin with every movement he made, and you were briefly distracted.

"Call it plan B. Hell, call it plan Z. But I'm packing the good drugs," Daryl said as he bagged the final bottle of pills.

"So plan Z is to put Scott in a drug-induced coma?" You asked sarcastically, shifting the strap of your loaded backpack.

"It is what it is," he said, making you laugh softly. A whisper of a smile tugged at his mouth, and your heart swelled at the sight. A small blush flushed your pale cheeks when you realized he was staring. He always seemed to stare every time you laughed, as if the sound were alien to him... and his steely blue eyes were like that of a toddler discovering something new, eyes filled with what could only be described as intrigue and wonder.

You cleared your throat and turned your attention back to the shelves filled with supplies that could determine life or death.

"So if I get shot, your ideal plan would be to pump me to the brim with some bizarre chemical concoction until I'm totally unconscious..." Your fingers traced the cool metal of the shelves, fingertips coming away covered in dust that had settled there over a few months.

"Sounds fun," you added dryly.

His footsteps stopped and I turned around questioningly, wondering if maybe he'd seen something. Instead you saw him staring at you through the strands of hair that hung in front of his eyes. He absentmindedly chewed on his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did when he was thinking.

"Ya ain't gonna get shot," his voice was low and almost... menacing. 

"Oh yeah? How do you know?" You challenged him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I ain't lettin' that happen," he said, his protective side coming out again. The most frustrating part about it was that there was no way of knowing whether he was protective because he cared about you the way you cared about him, or because he saw you as a sister. A lose strand of your (y/c) hair fell in your face, but you left it there in hopes that it would somehow help mask the heat that was slowly creeping up into your cheeks for seemingly no reason. Being an easy blusher was the worst.

"You can't protect me from everything," you said softly, staring at the dirty floor. Your eyes stayed trained on his scruffy boots as they slowly made their way towards you. When they stopped a few inches from your own dirty boots, you lifted your head to look at Daryl. His eyes looked almost wild, slightly angry. Your heart pounded against your chest so loud you thought it would attract all walkers within a 10 mile radius.

Daryl's one hand gripped his crossbow, and he slowly lifted his free hand toward you. His fingers tentatively brushed your hair out of your face, lightly brushing over your skin at the same time.

"I can damn well try," his low voice seemed to make your knees tremble weakly, and you mentally reprimanded yourself for being so pathetic. The inches of space between the two of you seemed to be charged with electricity, making your breath slightly more shallow than you'd care to admit. He breathed heavily, and each breath that touched your face seemed intoxicating. All you wanted was to close that space between you... he was so near...

Suddenly he took a step back as if he'd been shocked, and turned away from your trembling frame.

"We should go," Daryl said as he stormed out of the room, backpack slung heavily from his shoulder. Shutting your eyes, you once again pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath before following him out of the pharmacy.

Once you safely got to the truck, Daryl sped out of the parking lot and back towards Alexandria. The successful run felt like a huge weight lifted off your shoulders, and it was good to know that Scott now had a chance at survival. 

The scenery blurred past you as you looked out of the rolled down window, cool afternoon air blowing on your face. Glancing out the corner of your eyes, you noticed Daryl looking at you, his gaze lingering longer than what would be considered safe while driving.

"Eyes on the road, Dixon," you suppressed a smile as you stared straight ahead.

"Shut up," Daryl grumbled and stepped on the gas, making the noisy truck speed ahead towards home.

[waitineedaname]

Lightning Round, Take Two

kudos to @notedchampagne for inspiring this!!

also on ao3

-

“This is a terrible idea.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“She’s going to hate me.”

“She’ll love you.”

“Love me? Love me?!” Karkat all but shrieked. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this, Dave, but I don’t exactly make the best impressions! In fact, one might even say I make the worst impressions! We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t end this visit early because she can’t stand being around me because I have the personality of a deep seated pimple!”

“Damn. The kind it hurts to pop?”

“Yes! The kind of pimple that never forms a head and settles on your upper lip so it hurts every time you move your mouth! That’s what my personality is like: persistent, painful, and pus-filled!”

“The three P’s.” Dave mused, and Karkat shot him a scowl. “C’mon man, don’t sell yourself short. You’re like a blackhead at the worst.”

“Don’t pander to me, Strider.” Karkat grumbled and crossed his arms, but he didn’t complain when Dave slung his arm over his shoulders. “I still think this would go much better without me.”

“Nah, dude, trust me, this is the best option. I mean, best case scenario, if I did this by myself, she’d be like ‘omg do u have a bf’ and I’d be like ‘yeah’ because that’s part of what I’m tryna do here, tell folks about us, but then she’d want pictures even though she’s definitely met you, and then I’d have to show her all those cute pictures I took of you when you weren’t looking, and I know you don’t want that.”

“You what?”

“You didn’t hear that.”

Karkat rolled his eyes and leaned a little closer into Dave’s side, eyes tracing the little carapacian homes they were walking by. Dusk was falling, much to his relief; they both had to make compromises when they realized their species operated at different times of day, but he still avoided leaving the hive when the sun was glaring and ready to burn him to a crisp. Dave probably could’ve flown them all the way to Roxy and Calliope’s house, but Karkat hated making him carry him that far (Dave always insisted he wasn’t that heavy, but the strain in his voice never escaped Karkat’s notice), so they were walking the last few blocks. Karkat had a sneaking suspicion Dave was fine with walking because he was trying to delay the inevitable. He was nervous, if the way his fingers were tapping on Karkat’s upper arm or the way he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw said anything. Karkat sighed and unfolded his arms to wrap one around Dave’s waist.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, you know.” He said, surprising Dave into looking down at him.

“What? Who said I’m worried? You’re the one who’s been bitching the whole evening.”

“Because I want to make a good impression on your weird paradox ancestor, shit for brains. I’m saying you don’t need to be worried about coming out to her.” He met Dave’s eyes through his shades, something he’d gotten good at over the sweeps. “Of all fucking people, she’ll be the most fine with it. That’s why you’re telling her first, right?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just-” Dave sighed and looked away. He was better than he used to be, but holding eye contact was still hard for him, “It’s a big deal, you know? I mean, Rose probably figured it out from living in a confined space with us, and Dirk kinda got it out of context clues, but this is a first using the big B-word.”

“She’ll be fine. And if she isn’t, I’ll tear her apart and at least give her a reason to hate your boyfriend besides my shit-awful personality.”

“Aw, babe, I dunno whether to be flattered you’d attack my mom like a feral raccoon or bummed that you’re trashin’ yourself.”

“How about we compromise, and I’ll stop shit-talking myself if you stop stressing yourself out about this.”

“...Deal.”

“Good. Because I think that’s her house.”

“Oh shit.”

The two of them stopped just outside the elaborate building the carapacians had offered Roxy and Calliope back when they’d first arrived in the middle of Earth C society, both of them brimming with anxiety despite their reassurances. Karkat almost thought Dave was going to say this was too much for him and turn around and fly home, but he unwrapped himself from Karkat’s arm and instead held his hand to walk up to the front door and knock.

“Just a sec!” Roxy’s voice rang out from somewhere inside, and a few seconds later, the door opened to reveal her smiling face. “Davey!” She squealed and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. Dave, to his credit, adapted quickly and let go of Karkat’s hand to hug her back.

“Sup, Rox.”

Roxy pulled away from Dave to turn towards Karkat, who instinctively took a half step back. She noticed and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hug you if you don’t wanna. Is a fistbump cool?”

“I don’t know if I would call anything a certain red asshole harangued me with in the early years of our friendship ‘cool’, but it is acceptable.” That made Roxy laugh, and he gave her a light fistbump.

“Karkat, bro, I can’t believe you’re just calling me uncool in front of my mom. What the fuck. What is this betrayal.” Dave shook his head, but he already seemed more relaxed.

“Dave, I dunno how to break this to you, but you’re related to me ‘n Dirk.” Roxy tried to adopt a sympathetic expression despite her grin. “You’ve got dork running through your veins.”

“Goddamn. You’re tellin’ me I’ve got a genetic predisposition for this shit?”

“Yup. It’s chronic. Doctors everywhere’re rushing to write studies on our family to try and isolate the ‘cool-but-really-not-cool’ gene.”

“Let’s hope it’s not replicable in a lab or anything. I’m pretty sure Earth C can only handle four of us.”

“Ohmigod, can you imagine them trying to test it out. Little lab rats wearing shades and writing wizard fic. Holy shit.” Roxy gasped at her own idea, an unbelievably pleased look on her face.

“Oh my dick. Fuck ectobiology, this is the science I want to invest in.”

“Absolutely not.” Karkat interjected. “There’s already enough of you jackasses, I think I’d have an aneurysm if any more blond lunatics were running around.”

“Lol,” Karkat couldn’t believe Roxy just said that out loud, “You’re probably right. Are we gonna keep fucking around about cool mice on the doorstep, or do you guys wanna come in?”

She stepped aside to lead them inside and showed them to the living room. “Callie’s out picking up dinner. I would’ve made something since I invited you guys over for dinner, but living in the water apocalypse did not leave me with many cooking skills.”

“Hey, no shade here.” Dave shrugged, plopping down on the couch with Karkat at his side. “I don’t think I’d be able to work an oven if I tried. We’re a strictly take-out household. Hivehold? I dunno, but we’ve barely touched the kitchen in the week we’ve been here.”

“Excuse you, I made those Hot Pockets yesterday.” Karkat countered sharply.

“Yeah, and they were like 30% cooked, dude. You put them in the microwave for thirty seconds and then panicked.”

“Fuck you, I don’t see you doing much better! In fact, I distinctly remember you eating those frozen pizza pockets like a ravenous barkbeast! It was like you’d been locked in a cave with nothing to eat for half a sweep and my delicious plate of folded sauce treats were the only thing saving you from a miserable, malnourished death!”

“I mean, a Hot Pocket’s a Hot Pocket. I’m not gonna turn one of those fuckers down, who do you think I am.”

“I think you’re a wiggler with no sense of taste.”

“You eat bugs.”

“And you put ranch on your pizza! Bricks and glass houses, Dave!”

“Dude, do trolls even have that expression? Aren’t y’all light sensitive? Why would you have glass houses?”

“Newsflash, dipshit, I’ve lived in close proximity for the majority of the past two sweeps with an overflowing fountain of pop culture references and idioms and an uppity seer that likes to make things as convoluted and difficult to understand as possible. I picked up a few human phrases! Uh, no offense, Roxy.” Karkat added at the mention of Rose.

“None taken! I’m pretty sure she gets that from Dirk anyway.” Roxy waved him off. “Take it back to the ranch on pizza thing tho, do you really do that? Is this some earth delicacy I missed out on?”

“Oh fuck yeah, it rules. You gotta try it some time.” Dave nodded, excited to get someone else to try his food crimes.

“Imma have to take a pass on that.” Roxy said, crinkling her nose.

“Finally, someone with taste!” Karkat exclaimed, and Dave gently hit his shoulder.

“I am slowly workin’ through traditional earth food tho! Or at least as traditional as you can get here. That’s where we’re getting dinner from! There’s this human/troll fusion place that Callie and I like. I dunno how authentic it is, but it tastes good at least!”

“I mean, nothing on Earth C is super authentic, it’s all like human diet slightly to the left, but it’s edible.”

“Better than the garbage we alchemized on the meteor, at least.” Karkat agreed.

“God, the fucking buffalo wings debacle.” Dave and Karkat shuddered in unison. Roxy looked amused.

“You guys spent a lot of time together on the meteor, right? And now you’re living together?” Roxy asked, and they both nodded. She had a look in her eyes that was far too reminiscent of the look Rose got when she was gearing up to psychoanalyze someone, and Karkat was hit with a stroke of panic. “Sooo, I should prob’ly do a lightning round with you too, right? Since you’re important to Dave?”

The pair shared a look and Dave shrugged, appearing nonchalant despite the way he was anxiously picking at a loose string on his jeans. “Uh, I guess?” Karkat said, bracing himself.

“I’ll start easy, I promise!” Roxy drummed her fingers on her lips as if thinking. “Hm… you’ve got ‘cat’ in your name, do you like cats?”

Karkat made a face, thrown off by the question. “I guess? I never had one, but Nepeta was pretty fucking into them, and they seemed… fine. I can respect a meowbeast that just lazes around if it’ll leave me the fuck alone, but Nepeta’s lusus could’ve probably torn me to shreds, so…” He shrugged.

“Was Nepeta a friend from the game?” Roxy backpedaled the moment she saw Karkat’s face fall. “Oh shit, tender subject, sorry.” She worried her lip, looking for another question, then perked up. “Oh! What’s your sign? I know it’s Cancer from earth astrology and stuff, but what’s that mean for trolls?”

Karkat looked down at his chest and grimaced. “Fuck if I know, I don’t actually have a sign. I spent most of my life thinking this stupid thing meant precisely fuck all. I guess it’s a symbol of my ancestor? But I never really learned much about him since the empress always tried to erase his rebellion, and I thought that ancestor shit was highblood bullshit anyway. I guess now I know it’s not, but ugh, I could’ve happily gone my whole wretched life without meeting that douchebag.”

“We met his ancestor in the dream bubbles.” Dave explained. “Or I guess descendent? Since y’all are technically the post-scratch group? I never really understood that part.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, he was a pretentious asswipe with his head so far up his nook it’s a wonder he was even audible, but oh god, was he audible alright.”

“Lmao, I kinda wanna meet this guy.” Roxy grinned.

“No you don’t.” Dave and Karkat said in unison, which made her laugh.

“I’ll take your word for it.” The mischievous look was back in her eyes. “Next question! Have you ever had your quadrants filled?”

Karkat almost choked. “What the fuck kind of question is that? That’s none of your fucking business!” He blustered. “My quadrants are private, and it’s my decision if I want to bring them up! Are all humans this fucking nosy or is it just the Lalondes?!”

“It’s just the Lalondes.” Dave said flatly.

“I just thought it’d be fair since I asked Dave that in our lightning round!” Roxy put her hands up in apology, but didn’t look particularly apologetic. “I was curious!”

Karkat was about to continue his rant about people feeling entitled to knowledge about virtual strangers’ quadrants, but the way Dave sat up and cleared his throat gave him pause.

“Actually, Rox,” Dave started, fidgeting a bit, “I never answered that question back on the lilypad.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay!” Roxy brushed him off. “I’m not gonna push you to answer something you’re not comfy with.”

“That’s the thing. I wanna answer you now, if that’s cool.”

“Oh!” Roxy’s eyes widened. “Of course that’s cool! That’s cooler than cool.”

Dave lifted an eyebrow, a smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “What’s cooler than being cool?”

“Ice cold!” Roxy shouted at the top of her lungs, and the two of them chanted “alright” about a dozen times while Karkat watched them in bewilderment. Humans, he thought. He’d never understand them.

“Okay, but for real tho,” Roxy said once they’d both gotten a handle on their giggles, “You wanted to say something?”

“Yeah.” Dave almost immediately looked anxious again, running his hands over his jeans. “So. You asked if I’d ever kissed anyone or-” He cleared his throat and the rest came out in a mumbled cough, “-been in love.”

Karkat held his breath, eyes flicking between Dave and a very focused Roxy.

“The, um. The answer to both of those questions is… yes? And I know you’re wonderin’ who, that’s like the next logical question, like if you ask someone if they’re hungry and they say yes, your next question is probably gonna be ‘what do you wanna eat’, unless you’re a total dick and just wanted to, I dunno, be aware of someone else’s hunger for your own sick pleasures and leave ‘em waiting like you’re some kinda sick torturer tryin’ to extract information out of a prisoner, like ‘hey are you hungry?’ ‘Yeah, I am, actually. I’ve been hanging from my ankles for a week now and I’d kill for some motherfucking KFC right now.’ ‘Interesting. Go fuck yourself.’ That’s not a very good interrogator, actually, he didn’t even try to get any information out of the guy except for the knowledge that he’s really craving some chicken, which is virtually useless, unless the interrogator is working for KFC’s competitor, like Popeyes out here tryna get the deets on their rival brands. Hey, do you think they’ve got a Popeyes anywhere on Earth C? Maybe we should start one, make a shit ton of money. Really boost the economy.”

“Dave.” Karkat cut him off before he could get too far from the topic, giving him a pointed look. “Were you actually going to say something important or were you going to just talk out of your deflated ass forever?”

“Hey man, you know you love my ass.”

“The point, Dave-!”

“Right right right.” Dave shook his head and took a deep breath before looking at Roxy again, who looked like she was might be putting things together already. “It’s Karkat. The answer to ‘who’, I mean. We’ve, uh. We’ve been dating since the meteor.”

Roxy’s whole face lit up. “Aw, congrats you guys! That’s really sweet!”

“Yeah.” Dave looked over at Karkat and gave him a tiny smile before looking a little apprehensive again. “I’d, uh, appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone though? I mean, the rest of the meteor crew probably knows because we spent… a lot of time together.”

“Most of that was platonic, though. A good two-thirds of it, at least.” Karkat countered.

“True, but they don’t know that. Far as they know, one day we were just two bros hanging out and watching movies and shit, then the next day, Vriska walks in to catch one of those bros taking a snooze on his other bro’s lap and falling off the couch the moment she announces her presence.”

“I’ll give you three fucking guesses which dumbass that was.” Karkat directed that at Roxy, and she snorted.

“Rude.” Dave nudged him. “But yeah, they’ve probably figured it out, but we haven’t officially told anyone. I haven’t even told anyone I’m, you know. Bisexual.”

“Wait, so I’m the first person you’ve told?” Roxy looked a little stunned.

“I- Yeah? I just thought you’d probably be a safe person to go to, especially since we don’t have any weird baggage like I might have with John and Jade, you’re just my alt-mom, which I guess does make things a little weird-”

“It’s a little weird, but it does mean you get a certified mom hug!” She interrupted, standing up.

“A mom hug? Dunno if I know what those are like.” Dave said, smiling a little.

“They’re like this, you big goober.” Roxy pulled him into a tight hug, pulling him down a little so he could put his head on her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Davey. That’s a big deal, comin’ out and shit. I’m glad you felt like you could tell me.”

“...Thanks mom.” Dave’s voice was a watery mumble against her shoulder, but he seemed to have collected himself by the time they pulled away. Roxy immediately turned her sights on Karkat.

“Your turn! You’re family now, you can’t escape hugs anymore.”

“Ugh, you humans are so fucking tactile.” Karkat grumbled but resigned himself to Roxy’s affectionate squeeze.

“Hey man, don’t act like you’re not cuddly as hell. I have to pry you off of me with a crowbar to go take a piss sometimes. You should see this dude when he gets sleepy, Rox, it’s so fucking cute. Did you know trolls purr? It’s some kinda flushed noise or something and it’s the fucking best.” Dave seemed to already be relaxing now that the thing he’d been dreading was over with.

“That’s private!” Karkat hissed, embarrassed. Dave just grinned at him and sat a little closer when they took a seat again. “Do you want me airing out how you melt like a touch starved candybar left in the sunlight when I suggest you should be the little spoon? Or how you turn into a warbling puddle of Dave when I do this?” He reached over and out his hand on Dave’s knee, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. Casual affection, Dave’s weakness.

“Aw,” Roxy cooed. Dave looked thoroughly embarrassed and made a strangled noise in his throat. Karkat gave him a smug look.

“Shut up.” He grumbled weakly and scooted a little closer so he could press against Karkat’s side and hold his hand.

“So you guys are matesprits?” Roxy asked, and Karkat’s anxiety immediately returned. Dave wasn’t the only one who had coming out to do. Dave squeezed his hand and let Karkat start since this was his thing to discuss.

“Mostly?” He offered weakly, then tried to sound more certain. “We’re kind of pale too.”

“Plus I piss you off in a pitch way sometimes.” Dave added helpfully.

“And the way you kept me from tearing Vriska apart on the meteor was sort of ashen.” Karkat admitted.

“I mean, there wasn’t really much of a chance of you tearing her apart to begin with. Spidertroll could’ve probably kicked any of our asses in her sleep, she’s fuckin’ crazy.”

“My point still stands!”

“So…” Roxy interrupted, guiding them back on topic, “You’re in all quadrants? I didn’t know trolls did that!”

Karkat winced. “They don’t. Usually. It’s extremely frowned upon.”

“Karkat’s had trouble keeping shit in one quadrant.” Dave explained for him. “He’s got a big ol’ heart full of love.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in Paradox Space to come to that conclusion about what my useless fucking pump biscuit is full of, but thanks for the thought.” Karkat rolled his eyes, defaulting to annoyance to avoid the insecurities that always gnawed at him when he thought about his relationship with quadrants. “‘Full of love’ is usually not the first thing people describe me as. More like ‘full of a burning anger’ or ‘a perpetual stream of irritable piss’ or, hell, ‘just undiluted dumbass juice!’ As far as most people are concerned, I’m Karkat ‘useless shitfit’ Vantas, and they’re not fucking wrong!”

“Okay, sure, you might be the grumpiest person in all - what, is this five universes now? I can’t keep track, but that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly a big softy.” Dave rubbed his thumb over Karkat’s knuckles. “I know that best out of probably anyone.”

“If it helps, I don’t think of you as those things!” Roxy added. Karkat gave her a disbelieving look.

“Full offense, we’ve never really ‘hung out.’”

“I mean, no, but I’ve seen you interacting with Dave and John and Kanaya and stuff, and you’ve always seemed to be a caring friend underneath all the yelling.” Roxy shrugged. “It’s nice knowing Dave’s in good hands since I’ve only been part of his family for a couple weeks. Means I don’t have to give you a shovel talk prob’ly!”

“The shovel talk? What the fuck? What does that even mean?” Karkat looked at Dave for an explanation, but he only winced.

“You know, when parents meet their kid’s partner and are like ‘you better not hurt my baby, or I’ll kill you.’ That kind of thing. I’m guessing trolls didn’t do that on Alternia?” Roxy tilted her head, seeming genuinely curious. Karkat’s face contorted as he wrapped his head around that concept.

“Okay, first of all, no we didn’t because we didn’t even have parents and our lusii wouldn’t give two shits about our quadrantmates. Second of all, you better not even think about giving me your ridiculous human ‘shovel talk’! I’ve known Dave far longer than you have, so it really should be me going ‘don’t fucking hurt him,’ but I know I don’t need to because Dave can fucking handle himself! He doesn’t need your bullshit defenses! If I ever hurt him, I trust him to be able to tell me to fuck off out of his life - not that he’d ever need to because I’d rather establish a culling system in the Troll Kingdom and offer myself up as their first sacrifice than hurt Dave!” He took a deep inhale to continue his tirade, but Dave cut him off with a pat to the cheek.

“Yo, dude, shoosh, it’s okay. It’s really not that big of a deal.” It was only after Dave cut off his train of thought that Karkat realized how worked up he was getting, and he shrank back down against Dave’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m pretty sure Roxy was kidding, anyway.”

“Yeah, for sure!” Roxy nodded quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply you were gonna hurt Dave or that he couldn’t take care of himself or anything. That’s hella not my place, and you guys seem very good for each other.”

“Oh. Well. Good.” He sent her a warning glare just to make sure he’d gotten the point across, then forced himself to let some tension out of his shoulders.

“It is really nice knowin’ my family’s in good hands though.” Roxy smiled. “Hell, it’s nice knowin’ I have a family! Oh my god, Dave, do you realize none of us Strilondes are straight? I mean, Rose ‘n Dirk are both gay as hell, and then you and I are bi!”

“Yeah- Wait, what?” Dave jolted a little in surprise. “Rox, you’re bi too? Since when?”

“Uh, since always?” Roxy laughed a bit. “I thought that’s why you came to me, because you knew!”

“No! Holy shit, I gotta process this for a second.”

“LMAO.” Roxy said, pronouncing every letter. “Yeah, dude! I mean, can you blame me? Like, dudes are hot as fuck, that’s like self explanatory. I mean, have you seen the Englberts? Eglishes? Whatever their family name is, John and Jake are both total babes, but then there are girls too! I mean, Janey, what a gal, right? And Callie too!”

“Right?” Dave enthused, clearly excited someone understood where he was coming from. “Girls are so fucking good, hot damn, but then? Dudes? Holy shit?”

“Yeah!” Roxy was just about throwing herself out of her chair with her excitement. “I can barely leave the house, it’s just smoochable babes everywhere I turn.”

“I’d say it’s a goddamn plight, but I got the most smoochable right here.” Dave emphasized his point with a kiss to one of Karkat’s horns, making him squawk. Dave laughed a little and turned back to Roxy. “Yo, but rewind back to Callie. Soooo, are y’all two, y’know…”

Roxy looked remarkably like Dave when embarrassed. “Uh…” The sound of the front door opening and Calliope’s greeting voice cut her off. “I’ll get back to you on that!” Dave waggled his eyebrows at her but didn’t push it.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair, despite Karkat’s near constant crippling fear of being miserable in every social engagement. The food was good and pretty close to tasting like home, and the conversation was fluid - mostly because Roxy and Dave chattered the entire time like hyperactive squirrels. Karkat tried to be annoyed with their ridiculous stream of consciousness discussions, but he couldn’t help but feel warm watching Dave talk so comfortably with his ecto-mom. And he certainly wasn’t the only person happy with the situation; every time he and Dave started bantering back and forth, he could see Roxy’s delight out of the corner of his eye, and the absolutely lovestruck look on her face whenever Calliope spoke didn’t escape him either.

Eventually, though, they had to head home - though Dave and Karkat had both shifted their sleep schedules to be active in the afternoon and most of the night, the majority of their human friends were still diurnal and needed to go to bed eventually - so after a few more hugs from Roxy, they were sent on their way.

Dave landed them down the street from their hive, and Karkat didn’t complain about having to walk that last distance. The Troll Kingdom was just now starting to wake up, stores and restaurants lighting up, trolls in suits rushing to their early jobs, and young trolls getting ushered off to school. It was so different from Alternia, but Karkat thought he could probably get used to the differences if it meant he didn’t have to worry about getting culled at a single glance at his blood color. Maybe it was too early to tell, but if he let himself feel just the slightest bit optimistic for his future, he had a feeling he could be really happy here. He could live a peaceful, successful life on Earth C, and if the cheerful way Dave was swinging their clasped hands meant anything, he wasn’t the only one feeling hopeful.

“So,” He prompted, leaning into Dave’s shoulder, “I guess that could have been more horrible.”

“Yep.” Dave said, popping the ‘p’. “We’ll have to scrap those emergency plans. Cancel our name changes and facial reconstructions and flights to the other side of Earth C, no need to run away immediately.”

“I don’t know, we might have to keep that shit pencilled in. We still need to tell John.” Karkat reminded him, and Dave groaned.

“Oh fuck. Yeah, never mind, you sure we can’t just fuck off into another universe? Universe D here we come. The D stands for Davekat ‘cause it’ll just be us, babe. It also stands for Dick because, come on, it’s us, of course it does. Also Dinosaurs just ‘cause. Do you think dinosaurs are a universal constant? Like, did dinosaurs exist for you guys? Or- oh shit, do you think they evolved differently? Are trolls just super evolved dinosaurs?”

“Dave,” Karkat gave him a look, “I think I would know if I was a dinosaur.”

“I dunno, dude, maybe we’re all dinosaurs-”

“Okay, I know when to cut that shit off.” Karkat rolled his eyes and let go of his hand to unlock their door. “Seriously, I think… that went okay. Less than horrid.”

“Less than horrid, huh? That’s a big compliment coming from you, are you feeling okay? Are you gettin’ some kinda fluffy feelings from hanging out with Roxy too long, ‘cause like, I get it.”

“Shut up. All I’m saying is this might not have been as much of an ordeal as we thought, this ‘coming out to everyone we know’ thing.”

“Maybe. You might be right.” Dave admitted, following him inside. “But that involved way too many emotions, and I think all my brain’s been used up for the rest of the day for anything that involves more thought than playing Xbox for seven hours straight. You down?”

“Fuck yes.”

[demethinkstoomuch]

Learning To Read, Pt 6: F is for Faerghus

Chapters: 6/26 (7/26 on AO3) Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem Series Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro Characters: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Dedue Molinaro, Gustave Dominic, Original Characters, Rufus Blaiddyd Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Grief, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Angst, Fluff, Tragedy of Duscur, Racism, Developing Feelings, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Blue-Lions Typical Mental Illness

Summary:

A series of 26 alphabetically-titled vignettes examining the period where, in the wake of The Tragedy of Duscur, Dimitri taught Dedue to read: a time in which they learned about each other, and the rules of their relationship, perhaps more than about books.

Read on AO3!

A is For Ambiguity

B is for Book

C is for Commendation

D is for Dining

F is for Faerghus

The woman who called herself Cornelia Arnim considered this whole affair to be something of a fiasco, even if the potential for instability from the regency council was immense . But the council was giving her a headache. It was just a cold room full of sycophantic pigs snorting the air at the smell of fresh slop. They weren’t terribly interesting as puppets or tools, the newly-minted regent and his collection of cronies. They couldn’t even recognize that they were pigs, and wasn’t that just sad? None of them were grand noblemen; the room didn’t have a Fraldarius or a Gautier, or even just an equal in terms of clout. Also, at least one of them — one of the regent’s drinking buddies (which described about 2/3rds of the room), a minor noble who’d run in Rufus’ circle since his own academy days — seemed unaware of the fact that she was not there for his personal amusement.

But she smiled sweetly at him from across the table, and tried to think of how best to use him. Cornelia Arnim’s body had its advantages as a lure, at least, even if the fish weren’t the ones she was hoping for. If she needed to get anyone that way, it’d be the man himself. She’d been planning that the Agarthans would have owned Faerghus by now, using the dear ickle prince’s secret stepmother, wise and noble, stepping into the limelight for the first time. Obviously not the real thing, she was much too whiny and sentimental, depressing and depressed — and this was Cornelia’s opinion as the woman who had had to lure in Patricia. It had been stunningly easy, which had made the plan seem viable. Patricia had wanted so terribly to see her little girl again; she’d offered that wish for Cornelia to use however she liked. They’d spoken with other nobles, ones who were so wildly ambitious that they dreamt of freezing time so their precious kingdom would always be theirs. Ones so hungry they wanted to devour the land. They’d promised Patrcia she’d get what she really wanted, if she was only willing to take a little risk.

The plan had been, obviously, that Patricia would never see her little girl again. Or anyone else, for that matter. The attack from the nobles’ henchmen went off without a hitch. They’d even kept the prince alive, if only just, which would have made things easier. (Now, she wasn’t sure if it was something she wanted. He might have to be neutralized somehow, was the thing.) But after they’d walked Patricia away from the carnage and killed her in secret, that was where things went wrong. Because those moronic soldiers showed up, some detached battalion catching up a little too late. Their absurd vengeance culture rearing its head like a bunch of sharks smelling blood in the water. That pathetic Gustave had arrived too early. They hadn’t had time to get their Patricia ready for her miraculous survival, and so, Patricia simply had not survived in any form. All they had to show for it was the slaughter of an entire town and a sizable power vacuum currently being stuffed with hot air. Which wasn’t bad, necessarily, there was some quality chaos and a lot of raw material, but it was second place. But there were advantages.

Such as the scene playing out before her right now — once you tossed out the more worthless parts, like 90% of the animals littering this room. One of the more studious members of the council — it paid for anyone important to have at his command some little man with nervous energy, bookish disposition, and the patience for paperwork, and Rufus for the time being had this one — was explaining a situation. The son of a minor nobleman had been, according to contacts with official church messengers sent to observe and aid while the kingdom was in this transitional stage, found to be involved as a conspirator in the Tragedy. This was, and about half the room knew it, not remotely true.

“Your Highness,” asked the obligatory bookish man to the regent, “What would you like to do concerning Lord Lonato’s son?”

“...They say he was involved in the king, my brother’s, murder, do they?” asked Rufus, lifting his head from his hand, and sitting back upright in his chair. He was popular with women for a reason, besides his loose spending — the Blaiddyd men bred tall and prone to tapering appealingly from strong shoulder to toned waist, and Rufus had kept himself in that same shape as he’d entered into his early 40s — his face was lined slightly, marked at his eyes and the corners of his mouth with the careless smiles of an adult life lived with abandon. His hair was warmer than his brother’s or nephew’s, not cool blond that had darkened from an infant ice-white, but a vividly red-gold color that blazed thick and sunny all throughout his life. 

“That’s as they report,” answered the man. “They are, of course, offering themselves as aid in the matter of capturing him, while we’re so short-handed.”

“Let them, then. I’m sure their information is accurate.” Rufus brought his chin back down onto his hand. Of course, Cristophe Gaspard had nothing to do with any of this. About half the room knew it, and some of them were so faint of heart they looked shocked or appalled. What precious little cowards. Cornelia made a note about them for later. 

“My lord,” said one, tentatively. “Lord Lonato was once a knight in your service, was he not? As his lord...” 

The other half of the room, the half that didn’t know, looked righteous, and one of them answered first in defense of his lord.

“If Lord Lonato allowed his son to contemplate such monstrosity, then he has betrayed both his lord the archduke and his lord the king; what he ought to do is take revenge into his own hands!”

“I intend to. But not concerning Christophe.” Rufus looked only like he was shoving away a boring chore. As it was: this would let the church think they were busy with something, that was all. “We have more significant action that must be taken than to concern ourselves with him.”

“Ah, yes. Lord Kleinman has a report, Your Highness. It appears emissaries from Duscur’s council of aldermen have come to him seeking peace terms.”

“He should have sent them on to me, not a report.” Rufus glowered. “I am regent.”

“He already knows your answer though, right?” said one man with too much of a smile. He chuckled. “He’s the one dishing out the punishment. You can’t possibly go and fight yourself.”

“I can!” Rufus snarled, pounding the table with his fist. Papers and mugs of beer shook as the whole structure rattled. That was why they couldn’t just replace a Blaiddyd — even the crestless ones had surprising strength. And the ones with crests were beyond even that, monsters in human skin. Their experiments, Solon had told her, were showing real results now, but they weren’t going that well . Rufus’s strength bristled under his shirt-sleeves as the old nerve in him, one she’d have thought killed by drink and sex, reeled as it was struck. “I can, and so I must, or none will believe it of me!”

Everyone was silent until he sat back down, drained his beer and handed the tankard to a servant to have it filled again.

“His part in this measure may be great, but he must remember who has the crown’s authority if he is to receive the crown’s reward.” His cheeks were just the tiniest bit flush when he proclaimed that, the color fading slightly in the next moment.

“Ah, my lord…” said a secretary, who’d been standing by the door with a look of apprehension.”Prince Dimitri has been outside for some time now, demanding to see you. Again. Should I let him in?”

A few people made pitying noises. Rufus dug the heel of his palm into his forehead, preparing himself for what was to follow. He had been avoiding the prince’s efforts to speak to him seriously for some time now. Since the boy had gotten back up onto his feet, more or less. Cornelia had been politely helping him with that, citing the prince’s condition as a reason not to let them talk. ‘He’s been so traumatized after all, we don’t want to upset him further.’ That kind of thing.

“Very well, bring him in.” Rufus sighed. That story couldn’t go on forever, nice as it was for him not to deal with that child. His little brother’s son. 

There were probably people who hadn’t seen the prince properly since the tragedy, and they looked appalled when the drawn little figure entered the room — which was, in its own ways, comical. They had just casually tossed a young man to his death not a moment ago; now, one grave-looking boy was enough to tug at their heartstrings? He’s not even doing that badly anymore! He only trembled a little as he strode forward, as much anger as nerves. 

“Uncle, you must put a stop to this violence,” the prince proclaimed. Oh, yes. He needed to be handled, one way or another.

 ***

“You can’t do this!” “I know what I saw!” Those shouts, high and shattered with fury, had resounded from the walls behind Dedue for a long time, and more besides. Dimitri fought alone in a room where men too important to look at Dedue discussed whether Faerghus would end the retaliation against Duscur now or throw the full weight of the crown’s knights into it. Eventually, there came a wooden cracking noise like a tree collapsing and a great clatter from inside — metal, glass, wood tumbling down onto the stone. The regent’s council shouted in frustration and disgust, their words muffled until only tone remained.

The lady Cornelia had seen Dimitri out after that sound, with Dimitri clutching his left arm as a nasty bruise welled up through it, still shouting. She’d handed Dimitri over with a reminder not to get too worked up; if the arm continued to hurt, she’d have to check it for re-fracturing. 

“I understand you’re upset, Your Highness, but you will have to apologize for the table when you calm down, okay?” She’d said, patting him on the shoulder. She glanced at Dedue, cold and dismissive. Dedue glared back, but she tossed out her order without regard. “You. Keep an eye on him.”

 Dimitri hadn’t responded sensibly. He’d cried and he’d shouted, still carrying out his arguments. His apologies and shouts had given Dedue time to sit them both down on the steps, try and recover his own wits. He felt at once stunned and a gnawing cold misery: He should have known.

 Dimitri’s words had been barely coherent enough for Dedue to assemble what had gone on. They’d said Dimitri was confused. That he hadn’t seen what he said he’d seen — he hadn’t seen his father’s killers the way he thought he had. Not if he said they weren’t from Duscur. The king’s life must be paid for. So the war would not be postponed, would not be stopped, not if he could not produce names for the regent that showed the people of Duscur innocent. 

But he could not produce names. So all he could do was insist and shout and plead until he was like this, his voice worn to shreds, his arm aching, his whole being unfocused and unraveled. The blood would be spilled. That was all there was to it: what other price for a king was there?

“I don’t know who they were... Father, how can this be for you, when it has nothing to do with your killers?! How can you want innocent people to die?!” Dimitri muttered into the echoing expanse. The stairway stretched out before them, descending away from the formal council room into an open hall. The sounds of people were distant, muffled by stone walls. Dedue didn’t attempt to answer him yet. He wasn’t sure he could have. And so Dimitri went on. “...I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll get it right. I will. I’m....” He shut his eyes, lowering his head into his hands. “I’m sorry, Dedue.”

This was the first time Dimitri had acknowledged him, and so Dedue had to finally try and find something to say. Everything in him was squeezed tense — his shoulders, his gut, his jaw were all tight, and it was hard to find a way around it.

“It is not your war,” he answered, eventually. A sigh parted his lips. Dedue could only stare upwards at the great, vaulted ceiling. He was not used to feeling small.

 “If I’d only been calmer, would they have believed me?” Dimitri asked, the fury of his voice inward. Dedue was not sure if he entirely believed Dimitri, either. He would have liked to, but Dedue wasn’t entirely sure how to trust his mind; in moments like these, when everything was so close to the surface, it seemed like a ship tossed on the waves. Everything that day had been so confused. Instead, he shrugged. His feet descended down another step, his long legs slipping from their fold. The floor was a great way down.

“Not if they would not think about you when you are...hurt,” is what he said, his voice deliberate, stiff, quiet. He couldn’t say what he was feeling; he didn’t want to. Just let it flatten like a plain until he could build something useful on it. “Perhaps once they have had a battle, they will be tired of it. It will stop.”

“It shouldn’t be happening at all!” Dimitri answered. Obviously, but that wasn’t helpful, save spiritually. “If we could stop it before a true war breaks out, then it’d be OK!” He lifted himself back up to his feet, wincing from his arm. Dedue half-turned to watch the prince pace.”What if I ran away?”

“Where?” Dedue raised an eyebrow.

“To the border, of course! My uncle might be in charge here, but I am the crown prince… And the common soldiers and knights agitate for my father’s sake. The fools,” Dimitri’s eyes narrowed, bitter words breaking through his clenched jaw. His footfalls bounced off the stone. “But surely, they’d listen?” 

The idea had allure; it shimmered between them as a gossamer dream, intangible as light, but just as real. 

“Perhaps…” Their eyes met and held one another, hope sparking for a moment; they’d pack in the dead of night. They’d hurry there, as swiftly as they could, carried on the wind; speak with passion and valor; be heard by people who must have been, in their own ways, simply trying to do what seemed just. 

Dedue tore his eyes away from it. It hurt more than he wanted it to.

“No, you should not.” It stung to say, but the truth had sunk in.

“Why not?” Dimitri’s voice lifted, his footsteps coming to a halt.

“You are not well enough to travel alone. We would be slow and caught together.” Dimitri was much recovered now, at least physically, but a country away was too far. Dimitri knew that and sagged with a shake of his head. 

“...If we were caught, you would certainly bear the brunt of consequences as if you’d kidnapped me,” he said, to Dedue’s surprise. He hadn’t thought about what would happen to him . “I don’t want to imagine what would happen to you, or to everyone else as a result.”

“Hm. Second, even if you managed to move the soldiers and knights… If you cannot move their leaders, they will find more soldiers,” Faerghus was a rack of swords; Faerghus was a place where they said children of their high families learned to fight from the time they were born. The leaders themselves could fight best of all. So there would always be more until there was no one left. 

 “I hate this.” Dimitri’s gaze eventually broke, and he dropped himself back down onto the steps next to Dedue. It should have been a relief to hear — it prickled up against him instead, like a leg half-asleep. Tears weren’t dripping down Dimitri’s face, but they bubbled through as he spoke, his hands covering his face. When his hands dropped, slowly, they left red, scratchy trails. “I hate being so weak. People are going to die — not just soldiers, but fathers and mothers and —! Doesn’t anyone care?”

Part of Dedue was glad Dimitri cared, even if it meant watching him tearing himself to pieces like this. Part of Dedue felt Dimitri’s hands, only closing on air, grabbing him and pulling his heart, and he didn’t want that. He wanted nothing. Dedue’s teeth found his inner lip and bit down on it, unsure which part should win. It was a tiring battle. 

“You do,” he answered, unable to catch what feeling with which he meant it. The feeling in his voice wasn’t relieved, but he went on, “And I need this of you.” He reached out to grab Dimitri’s hands, take them back from the edge before they did more damage. 

“Of course,” Dimitri’s answer was more confused than confident. The hands in Dedue’s grip went slack, stopped resisting. They were limp and lost and defeated. Dedue let them retreat back to Dimitri’s lap. Dimitri had turned to watch Dedue’s face. His eyes looked clearer than they had since he’d gone in the other room — clear enough to see the way Dedue’s jaw was clenched tight and how Dedue hated it, clear enough to see the way his eyelids trembled with what he could not keep holding back. Things clicked, it seemed, and Dedue was surprised to hear Dimitri sniffle back a tear. “I’m sorry; it’s selfish of me to go on like this, when it’s so hard on you. But I refuse to surrender, and neither should you.”

“So what will you do? Will you continue to ask?” He tried to ignore the matter of himself, of how hard it was . He rested his hand on the stone, shutting his eyes and feeling its polished surface under his hand. His fingertips brushed over little pits and light flecks marring the darker shades. Dedue envied it — cold and quiet and stable; it hadn’t so much as warmed under him. It endured everything, and it felt nothing. It didn’t wonder if that place was home, even with nothing left for him but memories that toyed with comforting and hurting him. It didn’t have to remember. It didn’t clench itself, toes to teeth, when the memories of swords and fire still echoed, summoned by the flames burning miles away, summoned by the sound of knights, summoned by the knowledge that right behind him, at that moment, were men who would toss a world into that fire if it only satisfied their blood. It could simply not have those feelings when it couldn’t do anything about them. 

“If I can start by clearing the names of the people of Duscur…  Then there surely everyone will see sense. I know there are people who don’t want this — they can’t . But everyone is hurt and frightened. If they understand, then we can make peace and make things right!” He insisted, clenching his hands over the air. But he didn’t begin to scratch himself again. “I owe it to you, and everyone who died, and everyone who will die. I will… try to remember anything that could point to their true identities. I know it might not be heard at all. Fools. Fools.” Dimitri shook his head, his eyes tightening. His hands balled into white-knuckled fists, tremors running through them. Dedue pressed his hand harder onto the stone, trying to block out what was creeping in him like the first freeze. How hopeless it all was — someone who had actual courage, trying to plead for human lives with men like that.  “But I can’t stand for Faerghus’ justice to be used as nothing but a cudgel.”

And Dedue’s hand slipped off the step. His knuckles, so tense they could have burst through his skin, scraped against it. The tendons in his neck froze into place, wound like a clock whose springs went tighter and tighter, until finally — he snapped. 

“That is what it is,” he said, voice plain and simple, and finally dropping a weight. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Why was he saying this? It would be easier if he didn’t. His throat tightened like it might choke him. “They do not want your words to matter, and so, they will not work. What they wish for is battle. What happens next is of no consequence to them. 

“Perhaps some it is just.” He almost tossed the words at Dimitri, whose eyes were wide and staring, wounded at not being believed even by Dedue. Then they drew nearly to a close, softly, which was worse. He must have seen how misty Dedue looked. He felt like an avalanche, moving downhill — his words came with a building momentum, inexorable.“I cannot judge. I know that Duscur is like anywhere, maybe even here… There are good and bad people. Murderers. Children. But it is all the same to them. How could it ever stop?”

 He took a long breath, found it harder than he expected; it sputtered and broke before becoming deep enough. He was not yet crying — but he understood, he would. He couldn’t stop anymore; he’d broken at last, and now he could simply keep sliding down into his own depths. Part of him wanted to stop. To keep going on with the life he’d found worth living after the people who’d made his life before were gone, pretending he’d never felt like this. He shut his hands tight. They were shaking with bottled-up feeling.

“I truly...hate it. All of it. I hate knowing what Faerghus can do, will do, has done . I hate being looked at the same as if I had killed your father myself.” But going on as if it weren’t true wouldn’t make it untrue — still. He felt like as he pulled and pulled, it just went deeper. Feelings dark as night he hadn’t named , had put aside. It wasn’t hot — it was cold, so cold. It was drowning and freezing at once. He envied the stones, he really did: stones didn’t turn themselves over and see something they hated. “I hate the way I am spoken of… They way only I could not be let by your side when you were hurt, because of them… And —”  His eyes fell on Dimitri, then, and he understood. There was nothing that feeling did not touch. He recalled the way Dimitri’s feelings could drag his own out of him, and now — now that face, lips tense, eyebrows set gravely, and eyes red-rimmed and so, so sad for him — so uninjured by all Dedue had said, save that he didn’t believe. So undefended, like Dedue could plunge in a knife.

 “...I hate how ugly I am, to feel the way I do,” Dedue croaked, unable to look at that gods-cursed face a moment longer. He couldn’t change how he felt, not anymore, but he could stop. He could turn away; it would just have to be bolted up inside of him, turning his innards black with frostbite. 

“I think you’re right to be angry,” Dimitri answered, which made it all worse. “You’re right to hate all of this...What happened that day, what’s happened since, is monstrous, and nothing else. Even if no one else sees that right now, I…” His voice was shaking. Still somehow, Dedue was the one with the knife in him when Dimitri said, “feel like that, too. I don’t mean to say they compare, but… I think your fury just.”

“Dimitri, you do not understand.” He was unable to bolt it in if Dimitri kept dragging it out — stop, just stop. “It is still uglier than that… To hate all that I hate.”

“Oh.” Dimitri’s face briefly slackened, until it somehow — worse than anything — masked itself in a bland little smile, the smile of the Prince of Faerghus. Even if it collapsed almost instantly, it had been placed. The eyebrows drawn sadly together, the smile reaching his eyes not happily, but with soft self-deprecation. ”Me.”

“...I do not know if it is hate. I do not know the right word.” He knew just the right word in his own language, and said it aloud then — a word that meant something that ground you like wheat in a mill until you were bitter and tired.

 It hung there in the air, waiting for something, but all Dimitri could do was shake his head. He couldn’t translate that one, either. Before Dimitri could say anything, Dedue held up his hand. The feeling was awake, alive, trapped under his ribs and locked up in his lungs, his neck, his closed-off teeth. The borrowed tongue fell away from him, then he returned to his own. Dimitri would have to keep up, to guess over gaps in his knowledge of the language, as Dedue so often had to with him. He couldn’t say it any other way. 

“<I am… mad at you, sometimes. Something like that, anyway. I’m mad at who you are and what you mean.

“<You are the ‘prince’ of Faerghus. And this is so important that I’m unworthy of you to everyone . You bear their name! They kill for that name, for your father’s name, for that title I barely understand! Your good name is… so precious to them. But when the time comes…>” Turning this on Dimitri hurt. But that truth also hounded him — it leapt up his closed-off throat.  He hurried over the words, not looking to see if he was understood. Dimitri did not try to stop him — good enough. “<It’s all meaningless. It’s all useless . It’s cruel to ask you to carry this, but if you can’t, then no one will. I see that, now. It’s cruel that you’re the only one there is to ask.

“<And…Sometimes, I’m mad at you because I think…>”Dedue’s feelings crested, swelling up in his chest until they pounded against him, and came out the only way they could. Hot tears pooled in his eyes and dropped smoothly down. His voice was small and hoarse, a pained whisper. “<Why me, Dimitri? Why not save someone else?>” 

The bit of Dedue that pounded against his breastbone like a maddened, captured bird wanted Dimitri to not understand. Or more; say Dedue had no right to feel that way about his savior, or to say he did the best he could, or to say there was some reason for it to be him — some divine reason, some calculated reason, some reason less or more than that even the life of a stranger could be precious. Then Dedue could be truly mad at him, truly angry, then he could admire Dimitri a little less, care for him a little less, cut Faerghus into one great bloody clump and hate it all with a chill he’d hardly known was there until this moment, when he looked it in that hollow-eyed face. 

And when the hate had wrung out of him like tears, he really could turn his heart into stone.

But Dimitri didn’t say that. Not a word of it. Instead, he frowned, his eyes gone soft teardrop blue. He almost reached out a hand, but though it hovered in the space between them for a moment, it retreated to fall back onto his lap.

“I know that, for everyone I could not save then and cannot save now, there is neither excuse nor forgiveness. It would be mad, not to hate me after how much we’ve hurt you...There’s nothing ugly about it.” Dimitri stared at the hand he had almost reached out, his expression still somewhere far away from it. The silence stretched until he looked Dedue head-on again, a sad smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he whispered, small and hoarse,  “It’s OK.”

 Something thawed out inside him at those words, easing into the shelter they gave him.  It was OK. Nothing could make its way out of Dedue save tears. Silent, marked only by the faintest tremor that ran through him. It was OK. That black frost was still somewhere inside of him, and that was OK. Dimitri’s answer took him by the hand and warmed him, piece by piece, massaging his jaw until it let go, until his fingers and toes unclenched, until that feeling had surrendered him. All the things he’d gambled on Dimitri’s answer, all the things he’d considering throwing aside, all the rest of him came back to meet him, shocking as a spring flood — his heart, his hope, his life. 

His shoulders shook; his throat worked to make a breathless whine. Dimitri’s hand reached for him, and Dedue slumped into the touch wordlessly. Stone could never be warmed like this, not if it sat in the sun a million years.

“I won’t give up. I swear. I swear. I...I’m sorry you have to ask that. I’m so sorry.” Dimitri murmured, voice bare. And this, too, was a hurt stone couldn’t know. He had survived. They had survived, and this was all the reason that there was for it. Dimitri’s body heat was added to Dedue’s side as he, all the parts of the Prince of Faerghus that were simply Dimitri, leaned his head against Dedue’s shoulders. When Dedue didn’t shift away, a sob tore from him. He looked up through lashes only a little darker gold than the rest of him, blue summer skies streaked through with cloudy tears. He whispered something from the back of his throat. . “It really is a painful thing to wonder, isn’t it?”

 All Dedue could say for his understanding was in the way he leaned his own weight against Dimitri’s side. The smaller boy didn’t fold or crumple, but stayed, their figures leaned close to one another. His tears fell onto Dimitri’s hair as they slid down his face; Dimitri’s tears pooled against Dedue’s neck. It was regret and hurt in them, hate and frustration. They were surprisingly warm. The boys huddled on each other’s shoulder, there on the steps before the regent’s council chamber. When the adults exited, they would have to go around. The two of them wouldn’t be moved just yet. He didn’t have to move. He didn’t have to attempt to stop. For a long time, they simply wept for a world they could not change. They didn’t speak another word until all the tears had been wrung out from the bottom of Dedue’s heart, from Dimitri’s heart, from the burning plains of Duscur, miles and miles away.