#[ AND Y’ALL’RE RIGHT ]

[iskierka]

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

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

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

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

[bokunoheros]

"katsuki...!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     oh, you were in trouble for real this time.

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

     “ba–baku—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “god–dammit! bakugou!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[sirswooshnoodles]

Goose, geese

Mongoose, mongeese

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

[harley-the-pancake]

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

[wallcreeper-and-oro]

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

⋆𖦹 Hello!

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

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

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

um okay let’s seee we got

myself Coryander! (callsign: Ouroboros) - Swallowtail pilot!

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

Thebe’s a Tokugawa pilot, seems pretty scary to me but she likes the heat of the battle!

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

our resident Drake pilot

Liza, my mentor (callsign: Sour Patch) -

Tortuga pilot (it’s so big… and scary, Liza nice-ish though)

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

Dido pilots a very scary blackbeard

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

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

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

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

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

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

[corazondebeskar-reads]

fall, with you: part two - corn maze

Joel Miller x gn! reader

main masterlist |mini-series masterlist | prev | next

words: 1.7k

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

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

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

dividers by @saradika-graphics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is exactly what you’re going to do.

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

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

“The what now?” 

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

“I was hopin’,” Tommy mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ew,” Sarah complains, turning away. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

next

i'm not sorry for the golf thing

[victoria-vd]

OFFSCREEN POST

Laid to Rest

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

Part 1: The Calm

Part 2: The Storm

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

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

There was a quiet knock at the door.

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

The doorknob turned and the door was pushed open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nice to meet her in person?" Maple offered

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly the door was flung wide open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maple looked away and didn't answer.

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

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

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

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

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

"You already know everything I want to say."

“Pick one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reina stared down at her son. “Mijo.”

Jaime stared back. “Madre.”

The two silently stared one another down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I— I’m— I don’t—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaime drew in a sharp breath. What was she—

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

She then drew in a slow breath….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But—“

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

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

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

———

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

[otomehonyaku]

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

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

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

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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

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

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[The scene starts at the Mukami dining table.]

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

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

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

Kou: Okay…

[You silently stare at your plate of food.]

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

[You don’t respond.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ruki: It’s alright. 

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

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

[You agree.]

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

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

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

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

01:52 Ruki: Oh…

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

Kou: Is there some kind of proof?

Azusa: Then, it might actually be false…

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

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

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

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

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

Kou: That’s true, but…

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

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

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

Ruki: With that attitude, no.

Yuma: Ruki…!

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

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

Kou: Of course!

Azusa: I want to… protect Eden, too…

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

Yuma: We did.

Azusa: We won’t know… until we try.

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

[You start fidgeting.]

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

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

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

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

[You answer honestly this time.]

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

05:37 Azusa: I understand.

Kou: Yeah.

Yuma: Yep.

[You agree, too.]

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

[You tell Yuma that you feel for them.]

Azusa: You understand how we feel…?

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

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

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

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

[You vow to help them.]

Ruki: Then it’s settled.

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

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

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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

[avinwrites]

Ithaqua x Reader Headcanons!

This one isn't taken as seriously, as in it has more jokes and stuff, sometimes headcanons will be like this, sometimes, I'll be more serious :3

Alright, first things first we have to decide a personality for him

-I think he’s definitely quiet, more soft spoken, a little introverted, but still playful, but it takes time to get him to the smiling point

-in the first match, he’s taking it really seriously until the end, he’s a little afraid that he actually killed the survivors

-if You or anyone for that matter, comes up to him, he’ll be polite, but slightly unsociable

-in the future, interacting, more matches, maybe tea after a game, he’ll be nice, talk about his backstory, provided you tell him about yourself as well

-he might say you remind him of his mother, nice and caring, unfairly mistreated, and someone he…

-he’ll come back to that point

-sometimes he will play around in matches, if you're ever overheating, he will gladly blow a gust of cold wind towards you

-he can’t do much if you're cold but that’s where u come in

-if ur cold, they’re cold, let them in lmaoo

-but ultimately, he’s a fun person to be around, once you get to know him

-cue taking you on rides on the stilts, snowball fights in Leo’s Memory, always letting you get the dungeon if you want it

-the “games/matches” turn into actual games with him

-genuine smiles from both sides, and the childhood he never got to have 

-you both just want each other to be happy and you’re both very willing to be that person for one another

Extra additions!

-he got claw claws, like sharp ass things

-he’s scared to touch you for the first time

-it’s all fun and games until feelings get involved

-literally

-y’all’re playing one of your games

-you trip and fall

-his first instinct is to help you up

-but his claw catches your finger and a relatively large cut begins to bleed

-oh shit.jpg

-he’s gets really really upset

-you'll have to be like “no no it’s really ok”

-take his claws in your hands

-run each finger over the smooth nail-like points and curves

-he’s smitten

-“comparing hand sizes”

-it’s cliche but true

-he has trouble holding your hand, but putting your palm up against his has him blushing behind that mask

-do it often

-Hates chairing you but also really likes to win the game

-will leave u alive until the end tho

-if he’s doing really good and gets all survivors out before all ciphers were completed, he’ll give you little challenges and continue playing even though you’ve already lost

-once again, will always give you the dungeon escape

-he’s just nice like that

-only you though, someone else tries to get him to let them escape, he's chairing them

-and with the tea parties/meals

-he's not big on cooking

-(but i am) but if you are, that/s great

-if not, it's no big deal, you're both happy with snacks

-he likes to chat over a nice hot cup of tea

-despite being mostly uneducated, he likes to talk about philosophy

-here's where we get into all guesses territory^

-he likes to think about the idea of nature versus nurture

-he's a good person, he loves his mother, and his mother raised him well

-he has the nurture belief, he thinks highly of his mother

-plus, if nature were true, wouldn't that make his twin a good person

-no, he doesn’t think so

Other things he likes includes:

-warmth

-quips and banter whilst playing

-his fav thing to eat is prolly warm cookies or some kind of meat soup

-hates super spicy things, but likes things with a lot of flavor

-like cilantro

-i hate cilantro, i got the soap gene

-but I bet he loves it

-his favorite game mode to play is– idk I would say –blackjack because that's the most ‘game’ like and if he's teamed with u he doesn’t have to hurt u

(And then, right after I wrote this, I started writing a one-shot of playing blackjack with Ithaqua on your team :))

[spocksgotemotions]

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

[cb-writes-stuff]

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

Full name

Species

Age

Height

General weight

Description of appearance

Occupation

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

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

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 35 - The Devil Wears Douchebag

Y'all meet a theater kid loser.

On AO3.

The Halsin guy is, once again, y’all’s best bet—no, Lae’zel, we don’t even know where the creche is and we do know where the goblins are and I promise if our dumb, istik brains get this wrong, we go there next.

Thank fuck for Gale and his teleports.

And your suspicions the night before were, in fact, entirely correct. Blood potion and dirt potion taste fucking horrific together. You futilely scrape your tongue with your nails in between gargling with tea (despite Gale’s wincing and “that was a perfectly good brew”). You’re so desperate, in fact, you try to gargle with wine.

Astarion laughs so hard when you choke that he almost rips open the seat of his pants as he keels over in hysterics.

Bastard.

But you can talk, your head feels calm and clear, and you’re not face-planting dead in the dirt.

“We cannot leave that devil to terrorize innocent people,” Wyll says as you swig the alcohol taste out with more tea (actually drinking it, this time, Gale).

He did agree to join y’all to get help taking that thing down. The brainworms fucked him up along with the others; man is down to a couple of spells a day. And the devil’s last known location was sort of in the vicinity of where y’all need to go anyway.

A demon hunt it is.

***

Y’all step through the swirling, swooshing purple portal into sunshine. Astarion isn’t the only one to sigh and turn their face up to bask in the warm, clean light. To a one, y’all’re coated in swamp muck and hag goo. There’s nobody on the road when y’all emerge, but you suspect anybody coming across you would give you a real, real wide berth.

The teleporter spits y’all out near the grove again. It’ll be several days’ walk to the goblin camp. But at least the crew knows this area well enough to find all the streams to camp next to.

Wyll chomps at the bit, though. His hero instincts can’t let y’all rest and clean up. So loathe as y’all are, y’all agree to set off now and make camp and wash your damn clothes later.

You ain’t that far from the grove when you notice the handholds carved into a cliff on your left. You saw similar marks when you went to visit a national park a few years back. Ancestral Puebloans used them to get up to their cliff cities down in New Mexico. You look up, and think you see the top of a structure up there. And more importantly, some kinda chest on that structure up there.

“I’ll be right back,” you say and unsling your pack. “Might be something useful.”

Lae’zel eyes the cliff and nods approvingly. Probably because this is exercise and while she left off going into the hag fight, she’ll be right back on your ass tonight, you reckon (your entire body is sore, but your pack seems a touch lighter than usual).

“I’ll go with you,” Wyll says. “We can scout the area from up there. Make sure there aren’t any goblin patrols.”

And then Astarion surprises all y’all. “I suppose I’ll go, too.” Catches all of you staring and rolls his eyes. “If someone died up there they might still have valuables.”

Of course. Mr. Sticky Fingers.

“Dibs on jewelry,” you say, because you haven’t forgotten that conversation and you can’t afford to back down on it.

He tilts his head, all amused, and Lae’zel makes a sort of low hiss in the back of her throat. Surprisingly, Shadowheart near mimics the sound. Then the two realize they agree on something and both appear pretty grossed out by the prospect.

The cliff ain’t one long wall, but a jumble of several shorter ones. Your boots are thin and flexible enough, and the angle just shallow enough you can scrabble up. Slower than both the boys—holy fuck, Astarion is fast at that but he frowns at his hands when you crawl up to join him on the first ledge.

Wyll, the gentleman, lets you go first in case you need a boost, but also scurries up beside you in case you need a hand at the top—which you do thanks to the whole “upper body strength deficiency” thing.

There is a structure at the top, alright. Real dilapidated, all wooden poles leaning haphazardly together. But there’s also a chest up there. Astarion volunteers himself. Shimmies right up, swipes the thing, and more slides than climbs down, the wood groaning and swaying alarmingly.

There’s no bodies, though. Just a moldy sack of some kind, and a spectacular view of the smashed open butthole ship.

“Damn,” you say, looking out. The debris field is huge, but the main shell of it seems to have landed close together. More like it dropped right outta the sky and cracked like an egg, less like an airplane shredding itself to pieces as it plowed across the landscape.

You wonder how the damn thing flew at all. No wings or rotors; probably wasn’t as fast as an actual airplane, since you doubt it had to generate lift like one. That lack of speed (and Not-Sasha) are probably what saved you from being roadkill.

“Quite the view, isn’t it?” Astarion says.

You hum. “I wonder if anybody else survived? Maybe fell out earlier, got saved by that dream douche.”

There’s a pause as you both wonder if that word translated correctly. Then Astarion moves past it. “If they did, they’re probably dead in a ditch somewhere by now.”

You give him a look.

“I’m just saying, we’ve been incredibly lucky. The wilderness doesn’t lack for monsters and bandits and cutthroats. Any one of us could have died at least twice by now had we found ourselves alone.”

“True,” Wyll comes in. He surveys the destruction below, and gives a slow shake of his head. “It almost makes you wonder if something else has a hand in all this.”

Astarion’s scoff is harsher than usual, his voice laced with heavy sarcasm. “You think gods saved us for some ‘higher purpose?’”

You could catch those air quotes blindfolded. You ain’t sure if he’s mocking the higher purpose, or gods in general (you try to hide the smile at either prospect). It is interesting, though, since gods are actually a physical thing, here.

“I’ve not seen the handiwork of many gods,” Wyll says. “But I have seen the influence of other things.”

“Ah! A well-traveled group, then!”

Y’all whirl, both men going for their blades.

Another guy stands behind y’all, dressed like a real fancy man, all ruffles and buttons and embroidery. You heard nothing from the other below to indicate y’all had company, and the man’s hands—held out as he dips into a theatric bow—are clean, his fingers well-manicured.

Fancy little fuck did not climb up here.

“Who’re you?” you say, dropping your customary swearing because this guy seems to have dropped clean out of the sky.

His eyes shift to you—

Oh. Fuck.

Those ain’t human eyes. That’s not a man. He’s man-shaped, but there’s something about the air around him, something that suggests an ill-fitted suit, like the atmosphere strains against the seams where he stands.

What the actual fuck is that thing?

“Such ferocity from one so defenseless,” he says, his voice pitched so low it goes gravelly.

Your lips hurt. They’re pulled back over your teeth in an animal snarl, you realize. Every hair on your body stands on end. Something about that thing ain’t right, ain’t natural, shouldn’t fucking be here.

“Who are you?” Wyll says as your monkey brain scrambles for human words.

The thing ignores him. Scopes the area with a disdainful air. “My, my, what manner of place is this? A path to redemption? Or a road to damnation? Hard to say, for your journey is just beginning.”

You immediately want to smash his teeth out. Not just because of the gibbering alarm shrieking in your skull; his entire vibe oozes pretension.

Which gets worse when he again, theatrically—still pretending y’all ain’t standing there, waiting for an answer—taps his lips with one finger. “What would suit the occasion? The words to a lullaby, perhaps?”

And then he launches into some goddamn poem. You don’t pay much attention—something about a cat. The talking pisses you off. Bitch drops out of nowhere and fucking monologues at you and you want to crawl out of your own skin. He rambles on and on until, finally, says his name: Raphael.

There’s no magic translation of his name. It really is “Raphael.”

Which is a Hebrew name.

It is an angel’s name.

You don’t think this thing is an angel what the fuck.

Your companions both look to you, for some reason, and when you still don’t speak (please be wrong, please be wrong, please your mother cannot be right about this), Wyll ventures a, “Are you the cat or the mouse?”

And hoo boy. Does this (demon demon demon) man look fucking ecstatic with somebody playing along.

Your mother and the others loved talked about the devil. Loved. Demons and evil and witches and sin. Couldn’t somebody spit out more than three sentences without bringing one of them into it, up to and including passing the salt at breakfast.

You left all that behind. Slowly, deliberately. Like pealing leeches—fat and gorged and pulsing with your own, stolen blood—from your body. Each belief, each phrase, each word carefully (or extremely rushed in a fit of anger) pulled out, mouths chomping and bloodied. Each one dropped into the dirt and left behind to rot.

Now you’re here, with wizards and vampires and a literal fucking soul trying to fly off into space, and you look at this monologuing motherfucker, and something long dead stirs within you.

(demon demon demon)

You been palling around with killers and monsters. But now, in front of this creature, you feel the first brush of evil.

Raphael lifts his fingers. He’s been talking; you were too busy keeping your limbs still, knees locked, keeping yourself upright. Now he snaps, and the world shifts—

You’re in some ugly fucking dining room. Everything in red and gold and black, like a migraine made visual. Fireplaces big enough to stuff a fucking buffalo into. Paintings of demons (yep, those’re demons) on the walls. It’s all opulent and gauche in a nauseating way.

Voices startle behind you. The rest of the crew, clutching their weapons, eyes wide, teeth bared in Lae’zel’s case and huh, she’s an alien entity to these people and the two of you seem to have the same reaction to that thing.

Beyond them, you spot another painting. A red demon, big, bat wings spread wide, dressed in frilly, foppish finery. Skull in one hand. Same, smug face as the creature standing in the room with you.

Motherfucker.

“What’s going on?” Gale says. “Who…?”

“Welcome, welcome to the House of Hope,” Raphael says. Gestures to the huge table piled three tiers high with food. It even smells good. You been living off stews, sausage, and cheese for a week. That pie looks so flaky and tender, your mouth actually waters. “Please, help yourselves. Enjoy supper. It might be your last.”

“Don’t touch the food,” you say. So many stories about abductions and food. Fairies, Greek gods, and that one Guillermo del Toro movie with the pale man.

This, unfortunately, draws the attention of the sonuvabitch back to you. Jesus lord, his face is so sleazy. He cocks his head. Studies you.

“Yes, you’re an interesting case, aren’t you?” he says. His voice dips even lower, going ragged in his throat like he’s trying too hard. “Not from around here. You notice it, don’t you? You and the gith, both.”

“Notice what?” Wyll says.

“That creature cloaks its appearance,” Lae’zel says. Much better wording than your own, mental his skin is fucking fake!

“Indeed,” Raphael says. He tosses an arm into the air as if to present a stage line. Only hot wind buffets out from him, stinking of ozone and sulfur. And when you blink through watering eyes, there stands the red motherfucking demon from the painting.

Wyll tenses beside you. Astarion has gone utterly still, not even pretending to breathe.

Raphael smirks. Says, “What’s better than the devil you don’t know? The one that you do.”

“No,” you say.

You don’t mean to say it. You have every intention of staying still and quiet, like Astarion. Of fading into the background and hoping the bad thing doesn’t notice you until y’all can get the fuck outta here.

But this is all too much, and you’re flat out panicking and (demon demon demon the devil will steal your soul). It just sort of slips outta you.

Raphael frowns, mildly. Cranks up the sleaze. “I’m afraid I haven’t even—”

“No thank you we’d like to go now—” You clap both hands over your mouth. Resist the urge to walk over to the nearest wall and lobotomize yourself through sheer blunt force trauma.

At least a few self-preservation instincts manage to reach in and make sure it comes out sorta polite?

The next frown is not mild. “Ill manners make an ill guest. On this plane and in all others.”

You’re done talking. You’re done moving. You can feel the sweat beading in your armpits and along the edge of your scalp.

Raphael’s creepy demon eyes hold your gaze a moment longer. When you sensibly keep your lips shut, he resumes his monologue. You all but sag against Astarion when the demon shifts to address the others.

Something something brainworms. Something something he’s your savior (you’ve had quite enough of those to last a lifetime). Something something grandiose pretension.

“I could fix it all like that.” Raphael snaps his fingers. Flames burst up from his hand.

Neat party trick, you think and absolutely do not say.

He wants y’all to ask for help. Says y’all won’t find any with Halsin or Lae’zel’s people. He says all that in the nastiest, most arrogant way possible, and your companions look at each other, unsure. One of them is gonna say something stupid, ask for more information, actually consider what this fuck is saying.

“I thank you for your hospitality,” you say. Your voice only shakes a little. You’re almost proud of that. “But I have to insist we leave.”

Maybe it’s the extra courtesy in your phrasing. Or maybe he’s too wrapped up in the sound of his own speech. He sweeps right into his next schtick of “blah blah denying reality, blah bah change your mind, you’re so weak, you’ll come crawling back, blah blah.”

Wyll is damn near trembling to one side. There’s a look in his eye part contained anger, part fear.

“You’ve been lucky so far,” Raphael wraps up. “And I’ll be there when that luck runs out.”

He snaps his fingers.

You’re once again on a cliff, under a blue sky smelling of pine and distant water and the slightest tinge of burning slugs and rubber.

None of the others gives you crap as your legs give out.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[mistresscitrusslice]

League Characters That You’d Think Would Be in Season 2 But Who We Haven’t Seen in the Trailers Yet

Renata Glasc (yes I know about the Sevika theory)

Urgot (isn’t he from Noxus? Would be the perfect time to drop him in)

Camille Ferros (her family was literally namedropped)

Swain (again, Noxus)

Blitzcrank (beep boop)

Zeri (I feel like she could be a Firelight. Her hair already matches)

Twitch (somebody said it could be the rat from ep 1)

Janna (Jinx co-opting her temple has to be some form of blasphemy, right?)

Fiddlesticks (s2 vibes just feel ripe for a fear demon to pop up)

Pantheon/Atreus (since he was in the BS&T video, but more likely to be a mysterious one-off character like the mage was to Jayce)

Any Mage

Any Demacian

Disclaimer: I do not play League and I am no expert in League lore, so this is all what I’ve heard through the grapevine and my own curiosity. If there’s anything wrong or missing here, just correct me. I yearn to learn. Obviously some of these guys are a lot more likely than others and most probably won’t even show.

YES I KNOW ABOUT THE FUCKING LEBLANC THING. Her name gets thrown around often enough that it feels like she might as well have already been part of the marketing material. This is starting to feel like the Mephisto theories with the MCU. “And here’s how it can still have been LeBlanc all along!” Just don’t go complaining when she never shows face this season. If she does, it’ll be a pleasant surprise and I’ll be happy for you, but right now you all sound crazy. If she’s here, she gets to be be lumped into the Any Mage category.

Just ‘cause she wears clown eye makeup like the shadow thing doesn’t make them for sure the same. “Oh, she’s behind every war!” “Mel is secretly a shapeshifting witch mage!” Y’all’re starting to sound like Illuminati conspiracists saying the world is run by lizard people…

[da-young-bizzyboy]

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

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

"Whatcha got there?"

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

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

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

"Oh well, I think I shoulda know them"

"Of couwse!"

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

"Nah, s'okay, continue"

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

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

"Dats an easy as a pie"

"Heh, ya right, Mimin"

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

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

"Is...umm..."

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

"Miss Kai, awe yew owkay?"

"Oh well...."

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

"Oh, alwight, miss Kai"

*sigh* "Jus' Kai, kiddo"

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

[yallemagne]

All the people who have followed me in the past two days followed me just for the art I just posted, and yeah, y’all’re right.