#maybe they’re just really waterproof

[project-sekai-facts]

One of KAITO’s Autumn 2022 voicelines suggests that he likes having baths. It is unknown if Virtual Singers actually need to have baths like humans do to maintain hygiene, or if they just bathe out of leisure.

[arkangelo-7]

Okay, but, Bruce gentle parenting the fuck out of the Justice League is literally such a funny concept. Like, the only reason it works so well is because of the overwhelming amount JL Daddy Issues; they’re all secretly desperate for some parental affection and Bruce is so naturally a Dad that he can’t help himself.

That gold star thing he used to do with Dick? Where he gave him a little star every time he kept himself safe during a patrol? Same thing works perfectly for Clark. He’s literally indestructible (but Bruce worries) so whenever he comes out unscathed from a battle (which is most of the time) he’ll hand Clark a little golden star sticker. Clark collects those things like they’re priceless artifacts and sticks them on his laptop.

The anger management therapy he did with Jason? Where he’d run through katas (a series of choreographed martial arts movements) whilst doing breathing exercises? Works like a charm on Diana and Dinah. They’re both super powered, so anything Bruce puts in front of her they’ll destroy, so going through a good old fashioned kata before a big mission will help them both focus without risking the destruction of the Watchtower.

The mindful meditation he did with Tim? When they’d sit in silence until Tim’s brain finally trained itself to know rest? It’s the perfect thing for Barry. He’s a speedster so his brain moves at about the same pace as Bruce and Tim’s (though maybe not quite as analytically); the post-mission meditation sessions are the perfect thing to help him calm down.

The art therapy he did with Damian? Where they’d paint memories that brought them pain/loneliness/loss/sadness because talking about it was too hard? Surprisingly, both John and Hal are into it. (Must be a Lantern thing.) Neither of them are great artists, but John paints about his time in the army and Hal about his time in the Air Force. They’ve both lost friends and comrades, have seen the worst of humanity up close, and just can’t always verbalize that feelingly of powerlessness even though their the galaxy’s greatest warriors—but they can paint it.

The silent chess games he’d play with Cassandra? Where’d they’d sit there and pick each others brains without having to say a word, could communicate an immense amount of emotion with the slide of a pawn? Great for Jon. He can’t talk into Bruce’s mind (not without considerable effort) and he can’t really talk to Bruce about everything that happened to him on Mars, but they can sit and play chess until they both have a mutual understanding of one another’s trauma.

All the crocheting he’s done with Steph? Where they’d sit in front of a fireplace in Wayne Manor and discuss their similarly complex relationships with their parents? Loved to do this with Arthur, of all people. They have to get waterproof Atlantean yarn, but the efforts worth the creations they make during Monitor duty, and it’s one of those rare time when Arthur can really vent about all of his troubles leading a life above and below sea, being a king, his love life—anything. Bruce will always listen.

And then, all of the soccer that he’s played with Duke? Where they’d let loose and just be competitive? Cyborg similarly appreciates this, but prefers football, naturally. Now, Bruce is too old to tackle a Mother-Box-Enhanced human, but that doesn’t stop him from covertly setting up pick-up football games on the front lawn of the Hall of Justice every other week.

So yeah. Bruce and his gentle parenting.

[rs-hawk]

Love this post by @microsff

You went to a garage sale to see what you could find. You had been working on so many projects that you were hoping to get parts for cheap, when you saw an Andrew the Android. He was sitting on a table, swinging his feel that barely scraped the ground. He was an early version. It was easy to tell by his stocky build, and the way he barely looked humanoid. Newer ones looked more human.

“How much is he?” you asked the man sitting by a lock box, pointing to Andrew.

“You don’t want that one,” the man grinned, showing off all his teeth in a way that made you frown. “It’s a weird one. Sent it up to clean my gutters in a storm, you know, testing out that ‘waterproof’ feature.”

“Uh-huh,” you said unsurely, shifting on your feet slightly.

“And it got struck by lightening. Been odd ever since. Telling me to call it ‘Andy’ and asking me questions. Didn’t think these ones of them were meant to be so annoyingly human.”

“I still want him. How much?” you insisted.

You and the man go back and forth for a bit before you finally handed him a small wad of cash. A giddy feeling fluttered in your chest as you approached him. He looked up at you, a blank look on his expressionless face.

“Hi there. I’m Y/N. I just bought you,” you explained as you offered him your hand. “I’m so excited that I found an early Andrew. You’re one of my favorite androids of all time.”

“Andy, please,” was his response. He held up his hands, no, claws, as if to apologize for not shaking yours. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You brought him home, and he settled in quickly. One day, he greeted you at the door.

“Can you make me hands?” he asked.

“Why? Your claws work better, and you can swap them out with other attachments,” you asked back as you started gathering things for the project you were working on.

“I want to pet your cat.”

“You can’t even feel her fur though.”

“But she can. And I want her to like me petting her.”

You paused, thinking for a moment. “Alright. I can build you hands.”

“I also want to learn guitar. Can you make sure I have good fingers?”

That made a grin crack your face. “Yes, I’ll make you good fingers.”

You two lived in good harmony for awhile, until one day, he showed you a book. “Why is one character being called ‘they’?”

“Oh, because they’re non-binary.”

He nodded as he went back to the book. “I think that fits me better than he.”

You nodded back at them, scrolling through your phone. “Okay.”

Another day, they come to you, holding a book with a picture of a flute. “Can you build me a mouth? And move my port?”

“You want to learn to play the flute?” you asked curiously, looking at the book, their fingers curling around the pages.

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

They took to the flute much better than the guitar, but you don’t say anything. Even when they wake you up in the middle of the night. They’re still not very good, but you enjoy hearing their progress.

Yet again, they come to you, showing you a magazine with synthetic skin and hair on an android. They don’t say anything as they hand it to you, looking down.

“Okay. I’ll take you in and let you pick everything out,” you say as you hand them back the magazine.

“Do you think I’ll really be able to feel?” they asked nervously, rolling the magazine up into a tube.

“Maybe. Why?”

They looked away, and you thought if they were human, they would have blushed. “I want to pet your cat.”

“You pet her all the time.”

“I want to be able to feel it too.”

As always, you nodded. “It’s worth a shot at least then, right?”

Andy went in many times for many more modifications on top of the ones they asked you to make for them. Over the span of months, but in a way that hit you all at once, you fell in love with them. The way they laughed. How excited they were to learn. How excited they were to just be.

“Hey, Y/N! Andy! Welcome in yous guys. I got the room set up. Andy’s got a surprise for you, Y/N. You’re gonna let Andy pick out everything as always, yeah?” the mechanic greeted the two of you as you stepped inside.

You thought it was a little odd she just kept saying “Andy” instead of “they” but you brushed it off. “Yeah Sal. It’s Andy’s body. They can do what they want.”

Andy and Sal shared a grin before you were ushered into the waiting room. A couple hours later, a dark haired woman came out, her hair styled into a neat bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were green, your favorite color. There was a softness to her face and features, as well as a stockiness to her build. She reminded you of Andy, in a way, so you returned her smile.

Sal came up behind you, gesturing to the woman. “What do you think?”

“Oh she’s lovely, perfectly stunning, but you know I’m just waiting on Andy,” you said with a frown and furrow of your brows.

“Hi Y/N,” the woman said shyly, looking down at her feet.

“Andy?”

“I mean, I guess, but I want a new name.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know yet.”

You tilted your head, looking at her curiously. “But you already know every name that there is to know.”

A sweet smile touched her lips as she walked over to you, taking your hands in hers. “I don’t know how they sound when you say them yet.”

[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ UMBRELLA — suna x reader. sfw. fluff.

requested by sage ( deactivated :'( ) for my rin round up event!

the one day you forget to stuff your umbrella into the side of your backpack, it rains.

not a light drizzle that would be mildly annoying at most, but the kind of rainfall that you can hear pelting against the windows—the kind that you definitely don’t want to walk home in.

you let out a huff at seeing the time. it’s later than you should be leaving and you can’t help but think that maybe you would have missed the rain if you had left an hour earlier like you normally do on any other weekday. there’s no telling how long it’ll be before it lets up, so, unfortunately, you’ll be stuck in this building until the weather clears up enough for you to make a run for it.

instead of making every minute feel painstakingly longer by watching puddles form on the sidewalk beyond the door, you turn on your heel with the intention of killing time by watching something on your phone. though, before you can make it to one of the many tables, your path is blocked by a broad body. when you look up, you’re met with unmistakable grayish-yellow eyes. 

“so the rumors are true,” suna starts, eyeing you up and down before meeting your gaze once more with a playful smirk. “you’re bound to this school and can’t ever leave.”

in all the time you’ve known suna, you don’t think you’ve heard one serious thing come out of his mouth. you can’t be sure if it’s just you or if he’s always so flippant. you roll your eyes, shaking your head at his dumb statement. “it’s raining and i don’t want to get wet.”

suna raises his eyebrows. “no umbrella? i thought you were always prepared.”

there he goes again, taunting you like it’s a game. it’s been this way since high school and back then you’d respond to his jokes with jabs of your own. it’s never bothered you a great deal but right now, all you want is to go home and suna reminding you that you can’t serves as the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“don’t you have anything better to do than stand here and make fun of my oversight?” you look past him, eyes scanning the lobby for a suitable spot to spend who knows how long.

something about your tone makes suna’s grin fade. it’s not jesting like usual and he’s afraid that the hint of exhaustion he hears in your words has to do with him. joking around with you is much less fun when you aren’t in on it—especially if his teasing has truly struck a nerve.

suna would never consider himself to be well-versed in kind gestures, but he thinks that he might have some way to make up for overstepping.

“i guess i could walk you home,” he offers. there’s a glint of doubt in your eyes as you stare at him. he isn’t sure if it’s because the suggestion is strange coming from him or if you think he’s no better suited to brave the weather than you are. suna can’t do much about that first one, but to prove that he can in fact get you home dry, he pulls out the umbrella from the mesh holding of his backpack and holds it up beside him. “i have an umbrella.”

part of you feels like a fifteen minute walk with suna—someone you would barely consider a friend—is bound to be at least a little bit awkward but a larger part of you is willing to put up with that if it means you can finally get off this campus. “fine. but only because i really want to get home.”

“of course.” suna nods. he steps past you to push open the heavy door, pressing the button to extend the umbrella. the waterproof canopy shields his dark hair from the rain and he jerks his head to the side in a silent gesture for you to follow him.

you do, careful to step close enough so that you’re also under the umbrella but not so close that you’re bumping shoulders with him. “it’s this way,” you point in the direction of your apartment building.

suna nods again and sets off, pacing his steps so that they’re in line with yours. other than the rain hitting the canopy and the sound of your footsteps, it’s silent. you cross your arms and shy away from the edge of the umbrella where water is dripping. it brings you a little closer to suna but the warmth emanating from him is preferable to the sleeve of your sweater getting soaked.

“so,” suna’s smooth voice cuts through the silence, “what were you doing at the sports center?”

you can’t stop your head from turning to look at him, though, his gaze is still focused ahead. seems like that point you made earlier suna never having anything serious to say no longer stands. you’re sure he’s trying to ward off the awkward air surrounding the two of you. you’re sure he’s just trying to be nice, that he doesn’t really care what you were up to, but you answer him anyway. “oh, i was interviewing for a job at the front desk.”

suna’s lips part as he readies to respond with one of his usual quips—something like being able to bother you more often if you get the position—but he quickly presses them closed. he’ll end up running you away if he keeps at it so frequently and that’s the last thing he wants. even though it may not seem like it, suna likes having you around. he likes it a lot.

so he settles for, “that’s cool.”

“the description actually sounds pretty boring.” sitting behind a desk, answering calls, and constantly being around student athletes isn’t exactly your idea of fun but working on campus is convenient and you need the money so you’re hoping for a call back with good news.

“i don’t know,” suna starts, finally turning his gaze to you. there’s a sparkle of playfulness in his eyes. “watching atsumu flirt and fumble is pretty entertaining. it’s like a neverending show.”

the mental image of atsumu flaunting his position as the volleyball team’s setter in an attempt to impress a crowd and maybe walk away with someone’s number makes you chuckle. “okay, that does sound kinda funny.”

your laugh catches suna a bit off guard but aside from his initial surprise, he finds it pretty. sure, he’s heard it plenty of times in passing before, though, never this close. and he’s never been the reason behind your laugh. it’s probably a little silly, but he thinks it sounds even sweeter when he’s the one who caused it.

the rest of your walk is highlighted by natural conversation; questions from you about volleyball and questions from suna about your extracurriculars. it’s uneventful and utterly normal and the exact opposite of what you would expect from suna. although, you don’t dislike it. in fact, you think you could get used to it.

time passes a lot faster in suna’s company and before you know it, you’re standing outside your building. it’s quiet again as suna holds the umbrella over you while you enter your pin to unlock the main door. an automated click sounds through the air and you pull on the handle so it doesn’t lock again. awkwardly, you turn to face suna. “thanks… for walking with me. and sharing your umbrella.”

he dramatically gasps, pressing his free hand to his chest in yet another show of theatrics. “was that a thank you i heard?”

suna is almost sure he’s taken it too far again before you smile.

“don’t get used to it,” you tell him as you step into the dry lobby of your building. before the door closes, you raise your hand in a wave. “bye, suna.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[hazbininlove]

Hopelessly Devoted - Chapter 2

-About 3.6k. Some slightly sexual discussions. Kind of a filler before I really get the story moving.

“What if we made a creature that could fly and walk and swim! Imagine that!” Lucifer says, his hands gesturing wildly around him as he pictures it in his head.

“Ever the ambition one, are you?” Esther replies, laughing into her hand as she sits on the bench in front of him. There’s a fond look in her eyes reserved just for him, and he knows it.

“Don’t tease me! You know it’s a good idea!”

“I do. I have no notes to give! So, what will this creature look like?”

He hums, tapping his foot a bit as he thinks. “Well if they can fly they should be feathery, like us! But like, all over!”

“And they’ll walk, so they’ll obviously need feet. But how will they swim?”

“That’s the best part! They won’t be like other birds, they’ll have wider feet! That’s webbed! And that way they can paddle through the water! And their feathers will be waterproof so that they can take flight without worry!”

Esther giggles at his enthusiasm. “And their colors?”

“Oh there’s definitely going to be a lot of variation in that. But the little babies are going to be yellow and cute and just waddle around on their little big feet,” he says, cooing at the images he’s imagining to himself.

“And what of their sizes? Will they be little? Big?”

“They’re gonna be little! Well, not too little. When they’re babies they’ll be tiny for sure, but as adults I suppose they can be bigger. Though I think it’ll still vary, maybe based on the color of their feathers,” he replies. He looks at her with narrowed eyes and a pointed finger. “The males will be bigger though.”

“Oh not this again,” Esther sighs.

“Nu-uh! Not again! Maybe they won’t be a lot bigger but still bigger! Or some features on them will be bigger!”

“I quite like the idea of a shorter male,” she says, a smirk on her face and she stands at full height and looks down slightly at him.

He blushes at her soft gaze, but pouts at her words. And suddenly an idea strikes him, and he smirks up at her. “You know what else of theirs is gonna be big?”

“Pray tell.”

He motions down his own body as his smirk widens. She looks confused for a moment, her head tilting slightly, before her nose scrunches and her hands are on his face and pushing him away from her.

“Oh gross! Luci, you fiend!”

“What can I say? If there’s anything about myself I’d like to give to my little creatures, why not let it be that?”

She groans and leans away from him.

“I kind of want to give it a weird shape,” he adds.

“Please don’t.”

“Come on! It’ll be interesting! How about we make it all coiled up?”

“Now why would you do that?”

“Because it’s kinda funny,” he says, laughing at her disgusted expression.

She continues to lean away from him, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes that tell him she’s still amused by him.

“Well in that case, I vote that the females have something similar. Except, they have false entrances to trick a male should she want to,” she adds.

“Oh that’s just terrible,” he replies. “I love it!”

“And the male has to do a dance,” she says, reaching a hand to stroke his wings. He shivers at her soft touch. “Show off some feathers, prove he deserves her.”

His wings flutter as he gives her a bright grin and tips his hat to her. “Oh I can show some feathers all right.”

——————————————————————————

Lucifer shuffles his feet as he walks behind her, kicking up dirt as he does. It’s been… well he doesn’t even remember the last time someone called him by his other name. It was definitely before his fall, and probably by Michael who often preferred that name because of its connection to the Divine.

Esther always preferred to call him Lucifer. If she called him Samael, it was usually in relation to work. He didn’t work with her now though, not for years since his fall, so the only thing he can assume is that she’s using the name to keep a distance between them in the same way she referred to him earlier as “Morningstar” and not his first name.

”Soooooo…. How’ve things been?” He asks, keeping his tone light to try and shift the mood a bit. He’s still upset about earlier, and he wants to bring it up again, but he hates seeing her sad, and he knows that she’ll only shield herself from him if he tries. Years may have passed but he still knows her. It’s the reason she hasn’t hidden her wings in all this time. She’s made them smaller than their true size, but they’re still present at her back.

”Don’t,” is all she says. He sighs at her curt tone. He wants to look away, avoid her gaze, but he also wants to stare at her and take the time to relearn all the details of her face.

She turns to face him when she decides they’re far away enough from the others. “Samael, I-“

”No,” he says, holding up a hand and looking up at her with a frown. “I won’t hear you if you use that name. You never used that name, so don’t start now.”

”Don’t make this more difficult,” she whispers to him. He can see the tears already forming in her eyes. “Please just let me do what I need to do.”

“Star, please,” he all but begs. His hand moves too quickly for her, and he holds hers gently in his. It feels as soft as he remembers, cold as it always was. “Let me explain everything to you. You know I’d never lie to you. I can’t lie to you.”

Her hand squeezes his, and he brings it up to his face, holding it against his cheek. He feels her thumb stroke his cheek. He smiles a bit at the touch and watches her close her eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

“Why must you always be so difficult, Lucifer?”

He wants to hug her. He wants his arms around her and holding her impossibly close.

“It’s part of my charm?” He settles for that, giving her a sheepish grin as she shakes her head at him. His smile falls as he presses his cheek further into his hand, holding her there. “I didn’t do anything with Lilith before the fall, or for thousands of years after. We were just friends, I promise. I… I empathized with her. I saw so much of us in her. Adam was supposed to be like me but he lacked any respect for his half. It was so different from us. We had our scuffles sure, but I always respected you, and I know you respected me too. I just- I thought she needed a friend, and there were no other humans so I tried to be that.”

“You never spoke to me of any of that. You stopped speaking to me about anything. What was I supposed to think?”

“I know!” His voice raises a bit, but he takes a deep breath and lets it out before he continues. “I know. And that was my mistake. I didn’t think, okay? I was just so caught up in everything, in talking, and I thought… I thought if I told you, you’d stop me.”

”Can you blame me?” Esther asks back. “Knowing what you do now, can you blame me for wanting to stop you? I always encouraged your dreams, Lucifer. I always supported your ideas. But you know that I also always wanted to make sure you’d stop to think before rushing in.”

”You definitely were the smarter one,” he joked. She strokes his cheek again, and he melts into her touch. “Lilith and I just remained friends. Charlie was… well depression’s a bitch and both of us were alone. I thought of you, of how I’m not allowed to step into Heaven, of how you would never be allowed down here, and we both let ourselves be stupid for a moment. And you know what they say! It just takes one time! I mean, I’m sure other people struggle but come on. I’m me!”

”Your pride will surely lead to your downfall if you continue with these jokes,” she says, her tone sharp. “Why you think I’d enjoy jokes about your intimacy with someone else is beyond me.”

He coughs, lowering her hand from his face and using his other to pull at his collar.

“Right, that was stupid. Uhhh,” he looks around, trying to figure out how to continue. “So uh, yeah. Nothing else happened. Just the once, felt like shit about it after, then woah! Charlie happens! And I don’t know, maybe we thought something else could happen, or whatever, but it just never did. I couldn’t forget you and Lilith… Well quite honestly I don’t think Lilith’s ever been romantically interested in anyone. Or at least no one that she ever told me about.”

He looks back at her with pursed lips, worried he’d further upset her. She smiles softly at him, but doesn’t say anything.

“What about you?” He asks nervously. He doesn’t actually want to know, but considering his own actions, he can’t say he’d blame her if she had moved on.

“No, never,” she says quietly. “It was especially difficult, at first. The others were worried I’d fall as well, so I was kept in Primum Mobile close to the Divine. I wasn’t allowed to leave for… let’s just say it was a long time. A few centuries ago, they decided it was enough and I could leave, but by then I saw no point. So I haven’t really been around others. Mostly the Seven, some of the other seraphs and archangels, but that’s about it.”

“So, who took my place in the Seven?”

“Raphael,” she replies. “He’s not around often. He spends most of his time on Earth and has dedicated his life to hospitals and clinics.”

“And the others?” He asks cautiously. He hates that he misses them, especially after what they, what Michael, did to him. But they’re his family just as much as the sins are and he misses them.

“They’re well! I saw Ramiel a few days ago, she’s doing well. Gabriel is all over the place, as usual. It’s hard to catch him unless you happen to be close to the Divine as well. And Michael… he’s fine.”

“You don’t seem too sure of that.”

“It’s a bit complicated with him,” she sighs. She looks away from him for a moment before turning fully towards him. This time, she brings both of her hands to his cheeks. “I’ve never forgiven him for his part in your fall. And I’m still mad at him for causing my own seclusion but he’s- he’s been there for me. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s been the one to check on me the most throughout everything and make sure I wasn’t always alone.”

“Careful now, you almost sound fond of him. I hear Stockholm Syndrome can be a bitch to deal with.”

“Lucifer Samael Morningstar, don’t start with your jokes again,” she scolds him, now pinching his cheeks. “I am not in love with Michael, or any of the others. He did terrible things, yes, but so did you and he did them under orders of the Divine and you know that.”

She lets go of his cheeks but continues to look at him, her eyes a bit sharper than before.

“Sooooo… no one after all these years?”

“Some of us didn’t give up hope,” she mumbled as her arms crossed over her chest and yeah, yeowch that hurt, but deserved.

“I’m sorry. I know that’ll never be enough, I’ll always have that guilt and I can’t fault you for being upset but… I don’t regret having Charlie,” he replies, his tone serious. Because if there’s one thing he wants to clear, Charlie isn’t to be blamed for his mistakes. He messed up, all on his own. Well, it takes two but that's besides the point. Lilith isn’t here to take her side of the blame and it’s probably for the best that she isn’t here. “She’s so amazing, Esther. She’s so cheerful and bright and she reminds me of us back then. About all the best parts of us. I know the way she came to be isn’t ideal but she’s here and she’s my daughter. I love her more than anything.”

“I know, Lucifer,” she says. Her arms are still crossed and her eyes still look sad but she’s smiling at him. “Regardless of how she came to be, she’s here, and she seems like a wonderful girl. She reminds me so much of you when we were younger. Looks so much like you too. If it wasn’t for her height, I’d have thought you’d cloned a female version of yourself.”

“Oh! Ha ha! So jokes at my expense are fine, huh?” He hip checks her for it and she stumbles a bit, not expecting the move.

“Mine are harmless compared to your more crass ones.” She hip checks him back and he laughs heartily. “We’ve gone off track. I was serious earlier, Lucifer. We didn’t know what Sera was doing.”

“Well, she is the High Seraphim. There’s a lot of power for a person.”

“She’s the High Seraphim of the first sphere, and you know that! Her duty is to her sphere, not the entirety of Heaven. For that, Michael is involved. He leads Heaven’s protection. And even as the High Seraphim, there are still others far above her! Or did you forget about Seraphiel? Johoel? For Heaven’s sake Lucifer, time away from it all couldn’t have made you forget all of that!”

“It didn’t!” He replied. His own arms crossed and he turned away from her, pacing back and forth. He never liked admitting when he was wrong. “You think the exterminations were my first thought? I wanted to redeem souls! You know I never wanted to be the one to create evil!”

“I know,” she says. She stops his movements with an arm around his shoulders, pulling his back to her chest. “But you forget yourself at times. You are Lucifer, the shining one, the leader of the choir, but you’re also Samael the destroyer. It was your job to destroy sin.”

“And it was also my job to tempt it,” he signed, leaning into her hold.

“So much so that you became the first,” she tried joking to ease the mood. “I always did say your head was too big for the rest of you. It’s a miracle you can stand up straight.”

“Oh we’re back to this? It’s time for jokes again?” His tone was bland and she laughed, pressing her cheek against his.

“I never said it’s a bad thing. I’ve always believed in you Lucifer. I know you were just doing your job, wanting to believe the best in everyone. And I hate that you’ve never been allowed to see proof of that. But we can change that now. Yes, there are some sinners that deserve damnation but not like this. Not in masses like what has been going on with the exterminations. We need a system.”

He looks up to her dark blue eyes, and feels hope swelling in his chest. “We?”

“I did mention that I’d be coming back down every so often, didn’t I?”

“Why not stay,” he asks. “Here, with me. We could be together again, like old times.”

Her arm starts slipping away from him until he grabs it. He turns around and wraps his own around her waist.

“Oh love, you have no idea how much I wish things could be like old times.” She presses her forehead against his and closes her eyes. Her hands move to grip his jacket on his shoulders. His heart soars hearing her call him that and he pulls her closer to him. “But so much time has passed, and I sent eons believing you’d moved on. And it hurt me. It still hurts, even knowing what I know now. And I don’t even know how long the Divine will allow me this happiness to be here with you.”

“But that’s the beauty of free will, isn’t it? You get to choose what you want to do. You could stay! I’ll spend even longer making it up to you, to prove to you that you’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

“It seems I’ve forgotten that Samael is also known as the seducer,” she replies, tone sarcastic now. She leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

“You haven’t seen seduction yet, my love,” he smirks to her, looking up at her with half lidded eyes and a confident smirk. She laughs a bit before leaning away slightly. Not so far that she’s out of his arms, but enough to put some distance between their faces.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself. I meant what I said earlier. Forgiveness isn’t easy, but it’s not impossible.” She smirks, poking him in the side. He startles and lets go of her, and she takes the chance to step away from him, wings extending. “So you better preen those wings and get them nice and ready for your next routine. I expect the dance of a lifetime and a beautiful show of feathers.”

Esther’s wings move and she lifts off the ground, just as a portal opens some ways above her.

“I’ll show you some feathers,” he says to her as the portal closes, a proud smile on his lips.

——————————————————————————

“Sooooo,” is the first thing she hears as the portal closes behind her. “How’d it go?”

She looks up to see Cassiel, Ramiel, and Uriel waiting for her, Michael off to the side watching all of them.

“It went well,” she replies, her cheeks a bit red as she hadn’t expected them to be waiting there for her.

“They want to know if you got back together with him,” Uriel says bluntly, getting straight to the point as always. Ramiel smacks her arm.

“Must you act so tactless!”

“Well, what do you expect me to say?! Don’t get me wrong, I love a good love story but after what he did to her? Love my brother, I do, but she shouldn’t fall back into his arms too quickly,” Uriel defends herself. Ramiel says and Cassiel shrugs.

“I can’t say I disagree,” Cassiel adds, wincing when Ramiel elbows him in the ribs. “What! She’s right! Luci shouldn’t get off easy after leaving her for thousands of years! And having a child with someone else, no less! She should make him work for it. And when she thinks he deserves forgiveness, I’ll be there to properly judge him.”

“You’re both impossible. Esther can judge for herself when she’s ready, not a moment sooner,” Ramiel says, moving closer to Esther and fixing her hair. “A wonderful woman such as yourself deserves a wonderful man at her side. I agree that you should make him work for your forgiveness, but remember that your forgiveness is yours to give. Not anyone else’s.”

“Do you really think this is wise?” Michael asks, speaking up from his spot farther from them. “He’s fallen, Esther, don’t forget that. He’s no longer the angel you once knew.”

“He’s not,” she agrees. He raises an eyebrow at her in curiosity. “He’s changed, no doubt, but so have I. He may have fallen but he’s still an angel, and I believe in him. The consequences of his actions may have been terrible but that doesn’t mean he meant for them to happen. He’s a good man, Michael. I know you know that too.”

“Good or not doesn’t change what’s done. Gabriel should’ve been the one to deliver that message to him, and all the messages moving forward,” Michael replies, stepping closer.

“The Divine chose me for this task. I will not question it, and neither should you,” Esther says, stepping closer to him in challenge.

His eyes soften at her as he moves to hold her cheek. She doesn’t pull away from him, but she also doesn’t lean towards his touch either.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again,” he says to her. Her eyes are closed and she holds his hand against the side of her face. “He is my brother but you are also like family to me. Had Samael been smarter I’d have been able to truly call you my sister. It’s my job to protect you all. It pains me to see you hurt. It hurts me even more knowing that someone I trusted was the cause of that pain.”

“I need you to trust me now, Michael,” she pleads with him, squeezing her hand. “I know it’s too soon for anything to happen. I won’t fall back into his arms over pretty words. But I love him. I love him so endlessly I feel it with every fiber of my being and being apart from him hurts more than the pain I felt at the thought of his betrayal. Let me have this. I’m begging you.”

“And if you fall?”

“Then I fall,” she whispers, a tearing falling from her eyes. “Not to evil or to temptation, but to him. He is a part of me I cannot continue to exist without.”

“I don’t support this,” Michael replies, wiping her tears. “But should the time come, should you choose to accept him again, I will have to remind him of the consequences if he messes up again.”

“You softie,” Esther laughs. Michael smiles down at her. He hates everything about this, but he won’t question the Divine’s plans.

——————————————————————————

Just wanted to lay down some foundations for Esther and Lucifer here. This is going to be sort of slow burn but in the most teasing way possible. Esther will make him put in the work.

Also, I thought I’d drop my original idea for Esther. I changed it because 1. Most of the angels’ clothes looks very covered. Like even before his fall, Lucifer looks to be wearing a robe/gown like what Adam wears. When I first thought of her clothes, I was thinking of something that matched Lucifer’s current ringleader look, which I realized it wasn’t the time for.

Anyway I hope you enjoy! I’m already working on the next chapter and will hopefully have it up within the next few days.

Taglist: @dreamcatcher62 @art3misa635

[nomsfaultau]

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

Tommy doesn’t preen anymore. And fair enough, really. If Techno got brainwashed (or whatever it was) by his piglin instincts like that, he wouldn’t want to either. As the days crawled past they looked worse and worse, dull and bedraggled. At least Techno had managed to convince Tommy to drink enough health potions to scab over the open wounds, mostly under the threat of potential infection. It helps Techno at least to not see where the lines of the net cut into him. 

Tommy looks like hell. Acts like it, too, this writhing mess of ugly emotions waiting to burst out of him. But the ragged feathers are especially noticeable, growing dull and disheveled the longer he refuses to maintain them. Phil is getting worried. Says properly aligned feathers are crucial for insulation and Tommy is going to end up catching something. And like, being around Tommy is a lot on a good day. Tommy with a cold? Sheesh. Someone's going to have to do something to prevent that, and it looks like it's up to Techno.

“I can’t stop feeling his hands,” Tommy chokes when Techno tries to offer to help groom him. “The ways his fingers stroked through my feathers. I just want to stop feeling it. Or worse, maybe I don’t.”

Techno shifts from hoof to hoof to stop himself from putting it in his mouth. “Would it be better if you did it yourself, then?” 

“...I think I might rip out more feathers if I try.” 

Techno winces, unable to get the image of Tommy clutching bloody fistfuls of his own feathers out of his head. “Maybe if we make it as different as possible it’ll help? Like, I don’t coo, or chirp, or squawk for one.” That had really been the reason they’d decided Techno should offer, since suppressing his coos would be hell for Philza and he didn’t want to shove Tommy deeper into a trance. “And I have hooves instead of fingers, so the texture would be different, right? We could chat the whole time, or you can occupy doing something else. Do it in tiny sections maybe, and stop whenever it’s too much. Just, I don’t want you getting sick, alright? It’s extra dangerous in the arctic.” Though hesitant, Tommy eventually relents. On one condition, of course.

Tommy downs the sleeping potion in one go. Before long, he droops, careful to spread out his wings before he succumbs to slumber. Not that Techno prefers to do it while Tommy sleeps since he won’t know if he accidentally hurts him, but it is the only way Tommy could stomach it. Better than nothing, he supposes. 

Techno pulls out a bottle of some of Phil’s fancy feather oils, sebum or whatever it is. This isn’t his first rodeo, of course, since Phil occasionally asks him to help with a tricky spot since it’s plain easier to have someone else help with grooming. He’s always happy to help out a friend, and Philza really enjoys it. As for Techno…uh. Okay so like he gets social behavior like preen is super big for building bonds etc etc but it doesn’t really do much for him. Which is really awkward given the whole crisis Tommy and Philza are having about it at the moment, since from his perspective he’s been asked to help brush Tommy’s teeth. Like yah he’ll help but? It’s not, like? A big deal?? While everyone around him is treating it like a blessing or a curse. Suuuper awkward. 

He works quickly, quietly, and carefully, straightening out ruffled feathers and smoothing over damage, massaging in oil to keep them soft and waterproof. It is a little satisfying to watch his progress, he has to admit, like that one time Steve had rolled in mud and he’d given the bear a grueling spa day. But the anger of his ruined flower bed doesn’t quite match the fury bubbling in his chest as he tries to smooth out the primaries Tommy’s abuser clipped. It’s all he can see in Tommy’s wings, the ghostly echo of the man who hurt him so deeply. The sheered off flight feathers, ripped out chunks of coverts, little rips from where the net dug in. Maybe he can understand why Tommy refused to love his wings if everything about them screamed his abuser. 

Techno only pauses once when a soft, sleepy coo purrs from Tommy’s throat. And suddenly he gets it. It sounds like pure bliss in a bottle, so sweet and effervescent. It’s echoed by a deep, content rumble, and it takes a second for Techno to realize that’s him making that noise. Self-conscious, he puts a hand over his mouth. He’d…kinda forgotten he can purr. And in context, it’s not good, especially since Tommy’s coos rush out in response. 

Techno weighs what Tommy’s waking reaction may be against his health needs. Then, he pokes Tommy’s cheek. As there is no response, Techno elects to speed run wing hygiene and hope he’s not stepping in trauma somehow. But the purrs reverberating in his chest ease the worried tension knotting his muscles, spurred on by Tommy’s infrequent sleepy coos. It’s almost relaxing, the smooth repetitive motions working through russet wings. 

He carefully scoops up the chick when he’s done, tucking Tommy in his burrow. It’s a bit of a fight to avoid piling him under blankets, but Techno just spent all that work and is not about to mess up the feathers again. He sweeps up the discarded ones, then realizes he has no idea what to do with them since he knows they have weird cultural connotations for avians. Electing to put them in a pile at the bedside, Techno comes to the unfortunate realization that his prime reading spot is occupied. Refusing to let Tommy get in the way of his literature, he crawls into bed as well. Somehow the giant piglin ends up scrunched sitting in the corner while the tiny avian sprawls and takes up more space than conceivable. Even more shockingly, Techno doesn’t mind that much. 

Eventually Tommy yawns and stretches. Techno’s breath hitches in his throat as he sleepily mumbles his abuser’s name. 

“Uh. Nah. It’s Techno. That guy is like, super duper dead.” 

Tommy hums a confused note, then flumps on the mattress. “Good,” he mumbles. Techno releases the breath he’d been holding. “Ha’ a weirddreamm…”

“Nightmare?” he asks cautiously. 

Tommy’s wings flare out, trembling with the stretch, then tuck to his back. “Not really. Was alrigh’ I guess.” He pulls the blankets around without covering himself in an echo of a nest. A little bit of squirming, and his head presses warmly against the side of Techno’s leg. “Havn’t had a good dre- sleep ina while. Was…nice. Thanks, Techno.” He hums again as Techno awkwardly pats his head. Not a coo. This was alright, then.

“Any time, kid.” 

Next >

[thesuperiorgenshinaddict]

Vox N$FW Alphabet

AN: yeah i never thought i would actually post on tumblr but boom here i am. sorry for shitty layout because i just want to pump my hcs out and get it done w/ kekw also i think i made him a bit more of an asshole than ppl usually do so sorrryyy maybe idk Pairing: Vox x GN! Reader Warnings: Sexual content, Top! Vox, Mild degradation, not sure what else idk A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Lets be honest, this dude would NOT do aftercare whatsoever. He'll just go take a shower or something (yes he's waterproof if you say otherwise you're wrong L + Ratio) and when you blankly stare at him like 'wtf bro' this dude will not catch on until you straight up tell him to help you out. Once you successfully got the dude to consistently do aftercare, he'll get you a towel and clean you up and shit.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) This man is a raging narcissist. Probably looks in the mirror, fixes his ugly ass bowtie and does twelve different practiced poses every morning to make sure the public knows he's fucking sexy. He probably loves every part of him besides his side profile, or maybe he would like it because it's 'sleek, modern, state of the art' or some technology bullshit. Loves his claws though. He'd probably be really into ass. Thighs too, but slightly less. I have no clue why but I am convinced he fucking loves legs and all of that. I think he'd like your expression too, mainly because he feels like a god knowing that he makes you feel like that. Don't do mirror sex if you want him to focus on you though, because he's looking at himself more than he's looking at you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) It glows blue. Same shade as his claws and is electric. Don't put it next to fire, it'll burn the fuckin' tower down. Tastes mildly salty and has the same effect as pineapples where it feels like it's biting back. For body parts he likes to cum on, he probably would do it literally anywhere. Inside, on the stomach, on your face, ANYWHERE. Maybe not bukkake because he doesn't want it to get too messy and have to clean it up, that's too much work for a quick jizz.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Secretly finds you attractive romantically. Is it even a dirty secret? He'd just be too scared to do anything besides flirting and sex and shit for a long time. Maybe appeal to him enough and he'll take you on a completely romantic and sweet date that doesn't involve him blowing your back out afterwards. Christ, why the fuck is that somehow more appealing than having a one-nighter with him? Maybe I'm tweaking. Ignore this if you want. Go on and live your life with sweet husband Voxxy dookers buddy, I'm not judging too hard. Probably.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Pretty experienced. Unless you have some wild ass kink, chances are, he's probably smooth as fuck with it. Go wild.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Mating press. I originally thought I was just biased as fuck since I love the whole thought of mating press and shit, but apparently a good amount of people agree with me. He probably loves being close to you and mating press lets him fuck your brains out. Wants to be as deep as physically possible in you, and you're vulnerable to him and he's looooving it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Definitely is leaning on the more serious side. If he's joking around, it wouldn't be in a 'haha funny' way, it'd be more of a condescending way where he's making fun of how pathetic you are. Or horny, or something along the lines of that. I feel like he'd do makeup sex, so if that's the case, I can assure you he is not cracking jokes. Maybe cracking your legs apart though. Fuck, that wasn't funny.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) No hair. No hair. No hair. No hair. No hair. No hair. No hair. No hair. No hair. No hair. No hair. He wouldn't grow hair there. Uh. Anyway, I don't want to have so little shit written here, so when he was alive, he probably was pretty well taken care of down there. I think a bit more hair than trimmed, but not the whole ass Amazon forest, ya get what I mean? Why the fuck did I say that? Okay. Regardless, I think of him being like dark brown hair when he was alive. Probably was a few shades darker on his dicky wicky cocky okay seriously I have to stop wtf

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He'd be physically close to you, but if you're a one night stand, expect NOTHING emotional from him. Nada. Nothin'. On the other hand, if he was dating you or married or whatever your delusional ahh comes up with, he'd be just hardcore fucking you with a ton of horny ass compliments, but you'd be able to look into his eyes and just kinda tell he really loves you past all that horndog shit. Not really intimate sex for the most part imo, but if the both of you guys are in a shitty mood and it's not hate sex, he might say a few really sweet compliments and all that jazz. Fuuuuckkk I read that and he sounds kinda assholey (he is one though cope seethe /j don't get mad at me pwease) so if you're upset I half meant that in the 'he won't be bawling his eyes out during sex out of sheer love' way. Boom

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) He has cameras everywhere in Hell. Did you even think of the mere possibility that he's not jerking that shit constantly? Kidding. I feel like he'd be busy working a lot, but if you're not there to help him out after work and shit, he'd jerk it. Maybe a few times a week normally. If he had time and he was lonely though... Bro's going ham on his poor footlong. He has a lot of videos and whatever to look at. I think he'd thrive just off his imagination too.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Dry humping (receiving), Mild degradation (giving), Voyeurism, Shock play (giving, duh), Hypnosis (gee i sure wonder if it's giving or receiving woahhhhh /s), Power dynamic, I definitely have a lot more but it depends heavily on your relationship to him :p

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Desk. Now. Besides that though, he's probably fine with a lot of places. I feel like he'd be somewhat against public or semi-public sex because it could make his reputation worse, but anywhere else is fine. His office isn't really risky because he knows when people are about to enter using his lil' cameras.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) A lot of things. Many, many things. For the most part though, if you tease him by wearing some revealing shit or acting like a bitch, he's getting a hard on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Anything that puts him in a situation where he has little to no control. He's not willing to show that much vulnerability, no matter how well you know him. You can try domming, sure, but just know he has the full ability to do a 360.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Receiving. He'll occasionally do giving, but if you start calling him your submissive bitch or something, he'll spit and fucking leave. But regardless, he shoving his dick down your throat. Face-fucking is probably his favorite. Solid 6-7/10 in terms of skill, bonus points since his tongue is long.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Definitely rough like a good 90% of the time. The pace depends on his mood, but he'd go with medium to fast for the most part. Maybe slow if he magically has a break (That'll almost never happen. Poor dude loves his work so much, probably chronically online just because of how much time he has to spend with computers). Don't piss him off though, he doesn't have a speed cap on this type of shit. Random thing I wanted to add in, his typing speed is fucking insane. 300 something and higher when he's arguing on the internet. Would definitely participate in those arguments of who's the goat of sports or whatever. Also random flex but my typing speeds at like 200 wow I'm so cool everyone clap

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He barely has time to do anything, so quickies a lot of times end up being the only option he has to get off. Hella often. He enjoys an occasional slow sesh, but speedruns are his go-to.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Hell fucking yes. Always willing to try new shit out as long as it's not too risky. If it won't destroy his company, he's down for it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) This dude consumes more caffeine than humanely possible. He could probably go forever if it wasn't for his job, but he'd probably settle for 4~ rounds on a normal workday. If he's feeling excited though, expect more.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Definitely owns quite a bit. Probably only his company's products though, he wouldn't want to support other businesses. I don't think he's one to use them all that often since he'll normally just call you over to suck his dick, but piss him off and he'll shove a dildo in you and leave for a few hours, just to see how long you'll last.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He's such a brat. Taunts and makes fun of you constantly. Poor you, he loves to see you overstimulated and sobbing your eyes out.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) I feel like he wouldn't be that loud himself, definitely some breathy groans and shit, but on the other hand... If you're not loud enough, he'll make sure you're screaming out his name until he's satisfied. Maybe a little glitchy sounds. Before he comes, he probably becomes a little staticky.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Willing to fuck you with his aux cords. Would find it fun as hell, especially he can shock you easier.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) I think some of you guys don't remember that this man is 7ft. If he was human, it'd probably be around 7 inches, but he's tall as fuck. Expect it to be 9 inches minimum and probably larger. Average girth with thick veins running down the side. Pretty sure I said a good amount about it earlier.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Insanely high because he's always pent-up while working. Gets hard from the slightest bit of teasing. I have no clue what to write, but I want to write more so he's the type to get hard when he's comfortable. Cuddle with him and he's probably hard just because he's feeling cozy and shit.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He'd sleep a few minutes later, depending on how much he trusts you. If he doesn't trust you much, he's leaving to a different room. If he likes you though, he'd just go nighty-night. AN: hope you enjoyed thanks like and follow for more banger content /hj

[zarvasace]

MinaMart is BACK! Happy 1k followers. :)

I still have some of those print-on-demand shirts, but this post is mostly to show off the Shatterproof sticker preorders!! I really liked the long ones AND the circular ones, so they’re both available.

The circle ones are going to be 2.5”x2.5”, and the long ones will be about 4”x0.75”. They’ll be made out of a waterproof white vinyl with removable adhesive. I’ve used this printer a ton and they’re excellent quality, last a long time. They feel kind of like the stickers you get off of Redbubble but with better print quality.

July is Disability Pride Month, and we’re cutting it a little close, so preorders will only be open for a week—from right now until June 15th. That means that these will be able to be shipped out mostly the first week of July, to get to you sometime during the month. Whatever I have left, I’ll open for normal orders afterwards.

Absolutely do not feel pressured to get these, I just wanted them, and wanted to give everybody else the opportunity to get some too! The Shatterproof series (on AO3 here) and everyone’s support has meant so much to me. Thank you all! :D and hey, if this goes well, maybe I can do more of this sort of thing in the future!! I adore making things.

[bokettochild]

Fenuwhump request for day 3, how about make it about Wild & Legend, where Wild’s the one who’s injured enough to need to bite down on something while Legend it trying to treat him. Maybe they need to get a spear or something out of Wild before using a Fairy. Whump for both of them basically except for Legend it’s emotional whump.

Oh boy, this one was fun! Took me a hot tick (and it's late, whoops!) but it was worth it!

Wordcount: 5,157

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Hemophobia, panic attacks, graphic descriptions of injury and LOTS OF BLOOD

-

They’ve been wandering for a week.  

Normally, that’s expected, only normally they find at least something in their path while they do so. A village, a town, a couple of farmhouses- be they occupied or not, there’s always something. Here though there have only been monsters, and lots of them. He'd think, based off of the abundance of enemies, that it was his own time, or something very close to, except even his era has more in the ways of civilization than this! At least back home, the paths lead to somewhere, and even if homes and villages aren’t prosperous, they’re at least existent! 

Legend sighs. Maybe it's the rain, maybe the stiff joints and the sore muscles caused by the heavy downpour of the last two days is the cause of his ire. He's not usually so fussy about where he’s walking, as long as it’s on a path, although this era of Hyrule doesn't seem to have much in the way of those either. He really had wondered if they were in his time though, but the lack of civilization and the sparsity in monster species had convinced him otherwise. Not that there’s a lack of monsters, just that there’s only been three or four main types they’ve run into in the last week, and they’d all been familiar, almost easy to take down, and frankly boring. He’s used to having changing targets, things that challenge him and make him actually try in order to stay alive, but so far most of the monsters they’ve met on this journey, here in this era or in the ones before, have been familiar. Although, the strange black blood does tend to make them more violent, resilient and intelligent, so fighting them isn’t exactly easy either.  

Wherever they are, no one else seems to enjoy it either. Time looks most miserable, his armor no doubt incredibly uncomfortable while wet, but saying he’s the most miserable isn’t saying much about the comfort of the rest of them. Twilight slogs through the field, leading Epona beside him and hunching in under his heavy fur hood. Likewise, Four has donned his hood, shivering as he walks along at the center of their group, grumbling softly under his breath about whether rain is or isn’t the worst sort of weather. The consensus so far seems to be that sandstorms are worse, but by a thin margin because they’re incredibly rare in comparison. 

Personally, Legend finds hail to be the worst sort of weather, seeing as the chunks can get as large as some stones in his era, but he keeps that to himself. It’s not like Four’s asking for his opinion after all. 

“Anything?” Sky calls ahead, his sailcloth pulled over his head and, surprisingly, not soaking up the water. Legend wonders what the thing is made of, maybe he can ask later, or give it a look once they’re somewhere dry. He’d never expected it to be waterproof. 

Beside their leader, Warriors shakes his head, water dripping off the ends of the hair that’s now well and truly plastered to his face. The captain had leant Hyrule his scarf, and while seeing him without it is strange enough, seeing his hair as flat and ruined as it is, is even stranger. “Nothing, sorry, Chosen.” 

The skyloftian sighs again. They all know, from previous conversation, that rain is very much a new sensation for Sky still, and while he’s apparently past the stage of thinking the sky is falling, something he’s apparently still in the process of teaching his fellow skyloftains back home, he still doesn’t like it at all. Like the vet himself, their chosen hero seems to be wary of storms, and lightning storms for the man, as with himself, are the worst. 

Actually, you know, maybe hail isn’t so bad. Maybe lightning storms are worse, especially after Four said that your chances of being struck increase with each time it happens. Or something like that. 

“We’ve been walking for days,” Wind whines, a true testament to his frustration, because their youngest hates whining. “How is there still nothing?” 

“Because life hates us.” Four drones, “life hates us, and the goddesses are pissed we are still alive.” 

Even he stares at the smithy for that one. 

“Four,” Warriors pauses in his walking, and most of them follow suit. “Would you like me to carry you?” 

The genuine request is shut down very quickly with some foul language that no doubt would earn a very harsh stare if anyone could still see the captain’s face. Good grief, their captain looks like a drowned sheepdog with his bangs hanging that low, he desperately needs a trim (not that Legend’s offering). 

“Sumthin’s sure t’come,” Twilight tries, and it’d be assuring if it wasn’t the thirteenth time he’s said that in the last few days. “jist hod in there, sailor.” 

“How many times have you said that already?” Sky sighs. 

“Thirteen.” 

The rancher shoots him a glare and Sky chuckles, adjusting his baldric as he walks, head shaking under the white sailcloth. Strangely, he looks like the pictures of the old priestesses like that, and while Legend’s not in the best of moods, what with his hands and joints burning and aching from the rain, he still smirks a bit at the thought, although he doesn’t speak it. Catching eyes with Hyrule though, face half hidden by blue fabric, he sees a similar sort of smile playing over the traveler’s face, one that glints a bit as it turns on him, as though asking if he sees it too. He grins back, only to wince as his feet stumble some over the uneven ground. 

He flounders for a moment, almost catching his balance only to have the muddy earth slip under his newly settled feet and make him trip further. It’s Wild hand, shot out to catch his own, that stops him, and he grips back tightly as he finds his feet again, panting maybe a bit harder than necessary once he has. When he glances up to thank the champion though, he’s met with flat eyes and a blank face, none of their young knight's typical cheer and playfulness present. 

“Champ?” 

“Watch your step,” it’s not harsh, but the other’s voice is distant as the other withdraws. Wild’s been quiet for a while, since the rain started actually. Usually, bad weather is met with some hair-brained anecdote or story that has Twilight shaking his head and Time cracking secret smiles, but these last couple of days are different for some reason. Legend can’t name why, but he supposes it’s not his place to ask either, seeing as how it’s not like they’re close or anything. Maybe more so than they were before, but not nearly as much as the champion is with Twilight and Time, or Wind is with Warriors. 

Oh well, Wild being weird isn’t new either. As long as the young knight doesn’t do anything, it should be fine. Still, he makes a note to keep an eye on the kid, at least until he starts acting like himself again. For now, though, the champion walks- no, marches- along at their center, just in front of him and granting him direct view of set shoulders and a tense jaw. He’s making that same face he does when he’s in a memory, although he’s proven to be more responsive than when he fades out into one of those. Glancing around, the vet wonders if maybe this place reminds their champion of something, or maybe he’s just equally off put by the lack of people, places to stop, and opportunities to warm up by fires or cook. They haven’t been dry in over twenty-four hours after all, and that’s got to have an effect on anyone.  

“What the heck is that?” The voice of the captain has all their attention drifting to the front, watching their medic dash hair and water out of his eyes for what’s got to be the thousandth time, peering out into the rain with a squint. The rest of them follow suit, staring out and trying to make out anything against the grey sky and thick curtain of water that pours down around them. 

He hears it before he sees it. It’s a strange mechanical whirring noise, steady and unbroken, but very, very unfamiliar. He can’t even tell where it’s coming from for a moment, but then, out of the deluge around them, he sees a faintly pink glow. 

Wild, directly in front of him, stiffens, hands flying for sword and shield. 

“Cub?” 

“Guardian,” the champion bites out, and while that word means nothing to any of them, they all follow his example, arming themselves and crouching low. If the thing, the guardian, is a threat, it isn’t doing anything yet, just wandering around on long, spider-like legs that almost remind him of a tektite, or maybe a gohma. 

“Threat?” Time asks, glancing back, as though they aren’t already prepared for that very thing. 

Wild nods, sharp, firm, jaw set. 

That’s the last thing any of them are able to do either, as a moment later there’s a sharp, alarming beeping that makes some part of his soul scream in response, a red beam cutting through the rain around them, drifting over them briefly before settling on the champion, who’s closest. Harsh blue eyes blow wide at the sight, and the champion’s voice, a soft rasping whisper a moment ago, rises in a shout. “Run!” 

They scatter, like so many keese out of a cave, they dart off in all directions, Twilight swinging up into the saddle and catching Four by the belt as he does so, kicking his mare off and away even as the rest of them rely on their own two legs. Some of them slip, some of them fall, but they’re all well accustomed to moving and moving quickly when enemies appear. The important thing is not letting the red beam settle on them. He’s not sure why, but he knows, and he’s ever been one to ignore instinct. 

An explosion, not unlike one caused by a beamos, lights up the grey world not far from where they’d all been standing, and Time’s form darts across his vision as the man circles around the creeping monster as it glides on far too many legs towards their quickly fleeing group. 

“Cub, weaknesses!” Is shouted over the sound of their feet and the rain, the steady mechanical whirr of the so-called guardian sending his mind screaming in warnings that any normal person would take as a sign to book it out of there. They don’t though, because heroes never run when they should, unless it’s to run towards the thig trying to kill them. They’re a bit dumb like that. 

The champion is somewhere on his left, no, right- blue tunic standing out against the grey world, even despite the sheets of rain making it muddled against the cloudy sky and churned up earth. “Eye!” Except the blasted thing is a mechanical monster, so there isn’t an eye. Legend supposes the blinking blue and pink circle on what seems to be the front of it is rather like an eye though, and it doesn’t take much to send an arrow flying towards that point, a whisper of a prayer on his lips that it’ll do some good. 

The red beam tracing after Wind disappears, pink and blue lights blinking in and out for a brief moment as the whole creature shakes and shudders, the top part swiveling wildly for a second before turning, slowly, as the lights come on again. 

The red beam focuses on him. 

Shit. 

“Vet, run!” 

He does. He didn’t even need the warning, he just breaks into a full sprint the moment he can, boots kicking into use to give him a little extra speed. Pegasus boots aren’t nearly as effective in the rain, or on muddy ground, but it’s better than his normal speed when it’s wet and cold and his joints are aching enough to make walking miserable. Unfortunately, that does require him staying upright, something that’s exceedingly more taxing on his body as a whole. 

“Do not take it on!” The champion shouts, and Legend has no clue how the usually rasping voice of the young knight carries so clearly over the drenched field, but he can hear it as clearly as if the champion is right next to him. “Move away! Get as far as you can!” 

They rarely warn each other to not take on monsters, usually only in the case of the worst ones, but the utter and complete terror he’d seen on the champion’s face the split second before they’d all darted off had been clue enough that that is the case now. Even if the others didn’t see the champion’s face though, the run. Twilight is already out of sight, Four with him. Time stops to grab ahold of Wind and then they both plunge off into the wetness, Hyrule and Sky taking off in the opposite direction, north and northwest. 

Southwards of the strange thing, Legend’s got no chance at following any of them, and the blinking red beam fixed on him is making his steps more and more desperate as he weaves this way and that, desperately trying to throw off its aim as it trundles steadily closer, hardly hurried as the blink of its beam quickens its flash. 

In a last-ditch attempt, he throws himself down into the mud the moment he hears the blast fire. The ground in front of him bursts into flames, unaffected by the rain pelting from the sky, but at least he’d escaped. This time. 

The sound of another blast charging has him darting up, but the ground and his joints are no aid, making him slip and slide and falter for a moment before he finally gets his feet underneath him and takes off again. 

The second shot strikes the ground just a few inches from him as he darts to the side, once more at the last moment. 

“Hang on!”  

He doesn’t know why Wild’s still around, the rest of the heroes now absent by both sight and sound, but he can hear the other flying through the mud and the muck towards him, arrows pinging harmlessly off of the sides of the giant, multi-legged hell-beast that’s chasing him. For some reason though, its sights remain locked on him, not faltering even for a moment towards the champion whose breathing is becoming more and more shallow by the second, terror painted clearly in its pulses. 

The thing is getting closer, he’s losing ground. Instinct says that he’s not outrunning this thing, not even with all his magic poured into his boots to try and speed him along. The moment he runs out is the moment it catches up, and he’s not making great distance anyways. They need a new plan. 

He turns around, shield raised. 

The champion’s throaty scream rings out at nearly the same pitch as the firing laser. 

The blow makes him stumble back, force like nothing he’s faced before, even a lynel, but the mirror shield does its job, sending the horrid blue light rocketing back to its source with a flick of his arm. 

 The spidery monster stalls, lights blinking and fizzing, top spinning about again, this time for longer than what the arrow had done as the things stops moving long enough for Wild to reach it. The champion’s sword, freshly forged for the second time, swings for the legs, hacking and cutting in a motion he darts to mirror, tackling the twisting limb that’s closest. Two legs hit the ground, still writhing, sending the not-a–beast teetering and then tipping, unbalanced with the loss of two of its eight awful legs. That isn’t enough to stop it though. No, the thing’s glow returns, top spinning again, seeking them, and Wild’s hand catches his wrist before it does, the champion pulling him away. 

The red beam follows them as they dart off, and the monster does too, although it’s slowed by the loss of its legs, and a quick shot from the champion’s bow at the last moment has it spinning and fizzing again, stopped in its tracks a moment more and granting them both long enough to gain some ground. 

Wild’s hand is a vice on his wrist. 

He doesn’t dare pull away. 

Their feet slip and slide, and more than once he nearly falls, only for the hand nearly bruising his wrist to pull him up again. An arm wraps round his shoulders to steady and pull him up, Wild’s blue eyes cast all the while towards the thing behind them. There’s fear in those eyes; desperate terror that makes him almost miss the empty coldness from on the road. Makes him miss the wild child streaked with dirt and all too eager with a stupid plan. The ma beside him, soaked to the skin, dirt streaked and desperate, is like a whole different person, but even that doesn’t stop the fact that his brother is there, standing beside him and getting his ass out of danger as best he can rather than darting off as his own mind is likely demanding he do. 

Didn’t Wild say his scars came from a guardian? Didn’t he die to these things? Are they going to die? 

The mechanical whir picks up again, the steadily increasing beep that he’s quickly learning signifies preparation of a shot is sounding in their ears and they only have so much distance between themselves and the monster that outpaces them without even trying. 

“Keep running,” Wild orders, eyes finding his for a moment, startled at the contact, but the other pulls back all the same. 

Legend finds his own feet skidding to a stop, already whirling around to ask what the champion’s plan even is, but a harsh “that’s an order!” has him obeying. He's not sure if it’s the firmness, the desperation, or maybe even fear of the champion himself, but his instinct takes the lead to send him stumbling away as quickly as possible. 

This is Wild’s monster, he knows it’s weaknesses, he knows how to fight them. This is Wild’s world, he knows what he’s doing, he does. Wild knows what he’s doing, Wild knows what he’s doing Wild knows- 

The champion’s grunt of pain, a bit bac scream and the sound of something falling stop him in his tracks. 

The champion is wincing, ash floating around him, shield now notably missing as the enemy closes in on the hero who is running and darting with a speed Legend didn’t know he had in him. Running towards him, eyes locking on him, blowing wide and full of terror as they catch on the vet’s frozen form. 

The red beam locks onto the running form of his brother. 

They don’t have time. Wild doesn’t have a shield any longer and Legend’s not confident he can replicate the parry he’d done before on total accident. Their options are slim, but they have some. 

His bow is easy to equip, arrow flying off the string in a second, aim easy to take as the mechanical monster crawls steadily towards them, target never shifting. The single shot does little, save restart their timer, but that at least is something. He fires again. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Distracting!” Depleting the health, if this thing even has health. He's doing damage though, he knows that much He’s doing damage because they’re out of time for flight, it’s time to fight now. 

The champions snarls, a foreign, harsh sound that rips across scarred vocal chords, but he’s not challenged. No, instead, the other darts in, sword ready and already hacking the moment Legend fires off another arrow. The new sword screams against the metal legs of the guardian, but after some heavy, terrible looking blows, yet another twisting, writhing limb falls to the soaked earth, and the spinning head of the not-creature turns to focus instead on the champion. The red beam pulses, already too quick, eye faced away and out of sight of Legend’s bow. 

“Wild!” 

Resignation is already clear in those eyes as the other hacks away, darting and jumping and flipping about, moving too fast but not fast enough, rough voice still so harsh against his ears. “Run! I’ll hold it off!” 

He’s not going to. 

“I’ll be fine!” The champion’s voice breaks on the words. He won’t. 

The pulsing light is blinking faster than his pounding heart, lights blurring his vision as his feet slide in the dirt, running as bidden. Rather than away, he’s headed towards, but even with sword and shield raised, with all his magic streaming into aiding his stride, he’s not fast enough. 

The beam of blue light strikes Wild in the center of his chest, and it’s like time stops for a moment. The scream of his brother rings over the field, no doubt echoing in the ears of their fled brethren. He’s frozen, watching, as the champion falls, as though in slow motion, but then Wild’s body slumps against the earth and the guardian is turning on him this time and time catches up again, returned to normal, ticking on as though he hasn’t just witnessed the stuff of his brother’s nightmares. 

And yet Wild still get’s back up. 

“Go!” Those eyes are so wide, so pained, so terrified. “Zelda! Run!” 

Wild doesn’t know it’s him. Wild doesn’t know it’s him! Oh crud, Wild doesn’t know it’s him! Wild is running, stumbling, one hand to his sodden and bloodied chest and the other clutching tightly to his sword, gaze fixed on the vet with the same sort of desperation that screams and pounds fit to make Legend’s own heart burst. 

If Wild takes another shot, there’s no promise he’ll get up again. But Wild isn’t seeing Legend, he’s seeing his princess; his desperate, defenseless princess, and there’s no way in the Dark World that the dutiful knight he knows would let Zelda take the blow of an enemy, even if that means he has to make himself into a living shield. 

What to do? The things bearing down on him, target set, lights already blinking in a too quick countdown. He can’t parry the beam back twice in a row, there’s too much distance to use his sword. He can shoot but for how long? How long till it’s on him? How long till he runs out of arrows? 

Arrows! Zelda! 

He’s not sure, hasn’t time to think, hasn't time to do more than send a prayer heavenward that Hylia did more than curse him with her blood, but then it’s there, shining and bright and light arrows are at the tips of his fingers, bright and warm and pulsing as they fly to his string. He pulls back. The guardian’s light pulses once. He releases. 

The thing flies back, rolling and crashing against the wet earth, sparking and fizzing out, twitching and spluttering as the ever-present whine of its core gives out. Legend doesn’t care, he has eyes only for his wavering friend, the brother whose eyes are flickering, and legs are faltering. He tries to quicken his pace, but even as he reaches out his arms, the strain and the mud have them both tumbling down into the muck, the chapion’s breath stuttering with a pained groan as they slide and roll. 

He comes out on top, something he alters quickly, pulling himself to the side and upright, knelt over his brother’s sprawled out and boody form. He gags. 

The beams effects are immediately obvious, flesh burnt away, bubbling at the edges as blood seeps out from the wound, running thin under the rainwater but in no ways washed away by the downpour. There’s charring already, and where there isn’t is exposed muscle that trembles and spasms, veins pulsing as pained shudders shake the champion. 

Shit shit shit, he;s going to be sick, he’s going to be so sick! 

“Zel-” the pained whimper has him tearing his eyes away, wide violet finding fluttering blue, holding as one hand lifts, the champion trying to catch hold of him in some way or another. 

For a brief second, the image of his uncle, gaping wound leaking blood across the floor and into the sewage drain behind them, flashes in is head. Wild’s eyes are just as glazed over, words fumblinga nd slurring as a hand reaches clumsily for him. He catches it, pushing it down and out of his way, motions a echo of ten years ago when he did the same for the man who raised him. “H-hey-: his voice is shaking, trembling, foreign even to his own ears, “h-hang in there, y-you're- you're gonna be fine.” 

He doesn't know how to treat a burn like this. Doesn’t know how to deal with the hole that’s been seared through his brother's chest. He’s no medic, no healer, and his magic may be enough to end but it can do nothing to heal. 

“Zel,” his brother wheezes, still fighting his hands, finger slipping easily across soaked skin to grip his own, tight but not tight enough, not as tight as the bruising grip before. “y’gotta keep-” his breath stutters “-keep running. Calam-” 

“No,” Wild’s eyes aren’t focused enough to see him shake his head, but he’s not thinking about that right now. “No, no, Wild I am not leaving you like tis i got it, it’s dead, I got it.” 

“Zelda-” 

“No!” His voice is sharper than the sound of the blast, “Din dang it, Link, I’m not leaving you!” 

Wild’s blue eyes flutter open, breath straining, hands fumbling even as he tries once more to push the away, to turn his attention to the smoking hole in the man’s chest, the blood oozing out to turn the mud beneath them faintly pink, blue tunic unrecognizable beneath the crimson flow and spattered earth.”You have-” 

“I have to save you!” Not save the world, not save zelda, not save his sister or chase his destiny or leave becasue he is not leaving again! Not again! He’s not wandering off and leaving the champion to bleed out, letting precious life-blood spill down the drains of Hyrule castle as though it’s worth as much as the sewage it flows alongside. He's not taking the sword and the shield, he’s tossing them down and pressing his hands over the gaping would, trying desperately to stop the bleeding even as his vision swims and weak hands fumble against his own. 

“Princess!” 

He ignores the cry, the scream at the contact of his hands with exposed muscle, with blood that seeps between his fingers and stains them, flows past even despite his efforts to trail over skin and ruined clothes. 

He needs to close the wound! He needs to stop the bleeding and close the wound, but the hands reaching for his have become violent, clawing at his wrists and tearing to pull them away, the champion’s scream of agony rattling his heart, his mind, making his vision swim and his own breath falter and catch in a cry he can’t hold back.  

He needs the screaming to stop! 

He tears his hands away, plunging them into his bag and grabbing the first thing that gives way under his touch. For a moment he stalls, mind flicking through his inventory, praying a potion or fairy hides beneath the mounds of supplies, but he’d used his last one in their last battle and they haen;t seen fairies since Time’s world. He grabs the soft feeling thing, ripping it out of his bag and sparing uit not a single glance before shoving it towards the champion’s outh. “Bite down on this.” 

Be it in relief or desperation, his order is obeyed, and sharp teeth close tightly on the old belt, sinking into it and granting blessed silence long enough for his brain to function again. 

Blood, he needs to stop the blood. 

The blows too close to the heart, there’s no cutting off blood flow, there’s no stopping the blood seeping through except by packing the wound and praying it’s enough. Pack and bind, like Fi taught him. Use any scrap of clean cloth he’s got and hope the blood will stop long enough for someone to find them- or him to find them- or any blessed miracle to grant itself to them and provide a way to end the wound! 

His hand flied to his bag again, sorting by touch alone, finding wool socks he’s mostly certain are clean and pressing them to the wound, one hand holding them there een as another stifled scream escapes his brother, the champion’s back bowing forwards, body surging up under his hands to writhe in pain, a motion he only barely responds to, pushing back down again as his other hand paws and grasps wildly for anything, anything at all to stuff into the gaping hole that pours blood, so much blood, red crimson ooze that stains his hands and is warm, far too warm, burning hot against trembling, froze hands. 

There’s so much blood. God, why is there so much of it! Why isn’t it stopping? Why cant ke make it stop! 

His own sobs ring in his ears beside the agonized cry of his brother. He can’t even feel the grip of the champion’s fingers clawing at his wrist anymore, mind a stuttering and stalling haze as he somehow manages to press another wadded up piece of clothing to the endless stream of red. 

Bandages, he manages to process. He needs to bandage them in place, tie the packing in so that it won’t get out, so the wadded-up fabric and wool will catch the blood and stop more from coming out, make it finally stop. Stop staining his hands, stop burning, stop rolling in his stomach and pounding in his heart and clogging in his throat as his breath catches on it, lungs seizing on it, vision lost to red red red. 

Somehow, he manages to bind the wound. He doesn't know how had he doesn’t know what with, but he knows that he does and then he’s pulling Wild in, holding close and clinging, rocking slowly as the champion whimpers. 

His fingers are red, streaking red across white features as Wild’s screams fade to moans and whimpers, the champion's nails still clawing at his wrists, at his arm, painting them both in more red red red. 

He whimpers, body shaking, breath stalling, chest stammering and seizing. 

He did it. It’s bound. The blood is stopping. He did it. He didn’t run away, and he didn’t leave. He didn’t leave the blood to flow, flow, flow, dripping into the sewers, staining the stone, painting the dungeons in blood blood blood. 

He did it. He did it this time. 

He did good. 

He stopped the blood. 

[kfkr1ze]

[002-A17] Alien Egg

Summary — ✈︎ Ushio is getting fed up with how selfishly the other students are living. He approaches Kiroku, who was quietly standing near the noisy group Akuta is in.

Characters— ✈︎ Ushio, Kiroku, Akuta, Muneuji, Nanaki

Location: Otomari Chuuzaemon Inn in Shodoshima

Ushio: ………

So the sink wasn’t wiped down after it was used, and the mirror has drops of water on it.

The towels are damp, and the toilet paper I personally brought was empty.

And on top of that, they’re playing loud music even though it’s late at night.

…… Hahaha, hahahaha……!

Ushio: (This is why I don’t want to live with humans!)

Ushio: You guysーー guh!?

Akuta: Oops, sorry.

Ushio: …… What is this?

Akuta: Cola!

Nanaki: Aww, it got all over you ‘cuz you suddenly barged in here. Poor thing. 

Muneuji: Do we have any towels around?

Kinugawa, can you make sure there isn’t a mess on the floor?

Kiroku: ……… (Nods)

Nanaki: All of us are having an “American movie style party without adults around” right now. I didn’t invite you though, since I thought you’d hate the noise.

Ushio: ………

Akuta: YAAY〜! Well, I say you’re always welcome to join〜!

Maybe the carbonation will help with the wrinkles from your eyebrows♪

Ushio: … Why are you drinking from the side of the can?

Akuta: This is “Shotgunning”! I saw it once in a movie.

So you poke a hole at the bottom of the can, and then you put your mouth to the hole, and chug・straight・from・the・bottom!

If you do, you’ll look super cool and mature y’know. And you’ll be irresistible to girls! That’s why!

Ushio: ………

Nanaki: Ahahaha. You’re so stupid y’know〜. It’s soothing in a way.

Ushio: It’s really not.

Muneuji: Apparently, this is how all adults drink canned drinks. This is very enlightening.

Ushio: … Your helmet is completely waterproofing you.

Muneuji: Yes. It’s comfortable to wear, and it also protects me against splashes.

Akuta: UOOOORYAAA～～! Okay, another round!

Nanaki: Let’s see, which song should we play next? Choosing the right songs is all up to the DJ’s sense of music.

Ushio: You guys can all go to hell.

Akuta: Eh!? Well, whatever that’s fine! Let’s go let’s go!

Nanaki: I’m fine going too. When that happens, I’ll just drag you down with me.

Ushio: ………

Kiroku: …… Ku………

…… Kurama…… I don’t know…… if you know butーー

Right now, the adults… are at a gathering…… with the localsーー

Ushio: ーー Buddha Statue…

Kiroku: ……!

Ushio: Idiotake won’t listen, and I don’t feel like dealing with the bullshit that Panda is saying, so I’ll just talk to you.

Kiroku: ………

Ushio: Why don’t you stop these guys?

I mean, no matter how you look at it, isn’t this place in shambles? Are you still gonna act indifferent seeing how disastrous it’s getting?

Kiroku: Disast…rous…?

Ushio: It’s way more than just the noise y’know. They use other people’s things without permission, they leave their clothes all over the place after changing, and my face even got completely soaked with cola.

Why are you just cowering in a corner without stopping them? It’s obvious that you guys are gonna get in trouble when the adults get back home, right?

Kiroku: ……Uh… Ah……

Ushio: Hey, why?

I’m definitely not gonna let you go until you answer.

Kiroku: …… U… Um……

Egg: ………!

Kiroku: Ah.

Ushio: ………

Muneuji: Oh. The egg.

Akuta: It’s stuck on Ushio’s face…!

Kiroku: …… The… egg…

Ushio: H……

HGYAAAAAAAAAHAH!!

Kiroku: ……grew… legs……

Ushio: EWW NOOOO, WHAT IS THIS!? Take it off! TAKE IT OFF! Someone take it off!! NOOOOO!

Kiroku: Kurama… reacts like… a little girl……

Ushio: I can’t see anything! Hey Buddha Statue! I know you’re there! Hurry, get it! Getittt! Take… takeitoff, takeitofffff!

Kiroku: …Don’t… move…

Egg: ………

Ushio: …What the fuck was that…

Kiroku: The egg… grew…legs…

Ushio: I can fucking see that! What is up with that, it’s disgusting! Why did I have to have something like that on my face…!?

Ugh, I need to clean my face. With a scrubbing brush.

Kiroku: ーー…It’s so… cute……

Ushio: Your sense of aesthetic is screwed up.

Kiroku: ………

Akuta: Damn, I was totally scared when I saw it for the first time but! It’s so wiggly! It looks so cool!

Nanaki: I'm not sure if it’s a living thing, but I wonder if it has a will of its own?

Kiroku: …… I don’t know… but, it’s … cute……

Muneuji: I’m proud to be a witness of the mysteries of this universe.

Ushio: Why are you guys just chatting about this happily!? This isn’t some normal mystery!

I can’t do this! No way no way no way! I change my mind, fair and square!

I can’t keep this thing anymore! We need to throw it in the ocean! It’s my turn next, so I’m saying this right now! I’m definitely throwing it away!

Nanaki: Yuup, I agree.

Ushio: This is probably the first time we actually agree on something.  OK then, now that I changed my vote, that means Panda, Kinugawa, and I are now on the side of throwing it away. There, we decided on a majority voteーー

Kiroku: ………!!

Ushio: … What are you doing?

Kiroku: I won’t let you have it…

Ushio: Hah!?

Kiroku: I’ll never… hand it over to anyone… I won’t let anyone… harm it…

Akuta: Ah, does that mean Kiroku switched to the “keeping the egg” side?

Then let’s have another vote〜! I don’t wanna throw it away!

Muneuji: I also don’t want to throw it away.

Kiroku: …… Don’t……

Nanaki: Shit.

Ushio: ………

Oh yeah? Fine. Now give it to me.

Kiroku: You can’t… throw it… away……

Ushio: You’re being paranoid. I’m not gonna throw it away. It’s just my turn with the egg next.

Or do you think that I’m the type of person who’s unable to read the room and would easily just overrule a decision made by a majority vote?

Kiroku: ………

Ushio: (Well, obviously I’m gonna throw it away though.

Ughhh I really don’t wanna touch it… I should put it in a bug cage later or something…)

ーー ‘Kay, I’m leaving first.

You all should make sure you clean up properly.

Akuta: K! Niiight!

Nanakiii, play a new song! One that bangs〜!

Ushio: ……

Muneuji: ………

News Reporter: “Now, onto the next news.”

News Reporter: “Earlier this morning, a fire broke out at the Waterfront Park in Tokyo. One of the garbage collection robots…”

Ushio: ………

News Reporter: “There’s said to be no casualties that arose from this incident.”

Ushio: ………

Kaede: (Ushio-kun is watching the news with an expression that looks like it’s the end of the world… I wonder if he’s okay…)

Ushio-kun?

Ushio: ………

Kaede: (No reply… He doesn’t seem like he wants to have a conversation.)

Muneuji: I’m back.

Kaede: Ah, welcome home. 

Thank you for offering, by the way!

Muneuji: No need to thank me.

Since Kinugawa is working hard by himself in the Atelier, this is the least I could do to help.

Kaede: Kiroku-kun… How is he?

Muneuji: He was enclosed in the Atelier, immersed in his creation as if he were possessedーー

Muneuji: Kinugawa.

Kiroku: ………

Muneuji: Apologies for interrupting. I’m here to deliver the food from Chief.

It’s a large bento for lunch with a bit of fried food. For a growing boy, it’d be an irresistible dish.

Kiroku: …… It’s big… and… golden brown…… 

Thank yo…

Muneuji: I’ll leave it here then. See you.

Muneuji: He didn’t seem like he was going to eat it at the very moment, but when he gets hungry, I’m sure he will finish it all.

Andーー I feel like his face changed a bit. He’s not wearing a depressed expression anymoreーー

It’s like he lost what was haunting him.

Kaede: I see. I’m so glad…!

Thank you for the hard wor… Ah.

Is that a souvenir? Is it for your family?

Muneuji: Yes. On the way back, I passed by a souvenir shop. There were a lot of things that looked good, so I bought some for my little sister.

Kaede: (So you’re the type of person who cherishes their sister huh, Muneuji-kun?)

Okay. Could I ask you to give a status report for everyone else?

Muneuji: All right. Firstly, Nanamegi. As you know, he was just composing the music because he felt like he had to. But as of right nowーー he seems to be more motivated

Isotake is also enthusiastic. He’s shooting various videos of scenery in Shodoshima to edit alongside the video of the festival.

Kaede: Everything is progressing steadily then!

(It’s only day 5 of the study tour… The real thing starts the day after tomorrow.)

(The one I’m worried about the most is…)

Ushio: ………

Kaede: (The kid who’s glued in front of the TV… hm.)

Previous — ✈︎ Masterlist — ✈︎ Next

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies! Some about the ADeuce comic from the other day, some are twst-related, some are a little more random. Not a lot today…

Anonymous asked:

You both ok? You haven’t posted as much the past couple days?

Yeah, we’re good! We just skipped replies yesterday because we were busy + yesterday’s drawing post has a mature content label, so maybe it’s not showing in your feed… A good time to remind to turn it on in your settings if you haven’t and want to see it.

We might skip a day every now and then, don’t worry about us too much. If something important or bad happens, we’ll let you know! Or, if we’re silent for at least two or three days in a row, that might be your queue to start getting worried lol

Pro-crass-i-nate asked:

I love how not one of the twist boys owns and wears waterproof makeup.

Love all your art btw <3

I know right? One would think that with how much water activities they’re having all the time they would at least use magic to waterproof it.

But unfortunately for them, I have my own unique magic, and its entire purpose is to un-waterproof their mascara so I can draw Deuce or Vil crying beautifully.

Thank you btw <3

scrivenger-grimgar asked:

reminded me of your art, cause he like slowly approaches azul slowly and like just hunches over him with his evil grin <3

Ahhh, this entire segment!! <3 Idia teasing Azul and Malleus just standing there, not helping Azul at all and even making it worse~ Idia is such a little (tall) brat sometimes. I love this scene a lot.

Thank you for reminding us of it + I am very happy it reminded you of my art!! <3

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I agree Ace! Deuce looks good!!!

Hehe yes! Being a nerd suits him…

icedefloweringtornado asked:

Ace don’t talk as if you’re not thinking about cuming all over Deuce’s glasses.

This is what he is going to be thinking about, no joke. The only time he didn’t fall asleep during Trein’s lecture… because his mind was imagining things very vividly…

Anonymous asked:

I want to wreck Lilia’s ancient ass…or he can wreck me. I’m pretty open.

S- Should I give him your number?

Anonymous asked:

I don’t understand why proshippers would have to say they don’t support those things in real life. That’s like asking someone who writes about serial murderers to tell us whether they support murder in rl. Like, duh 🙄

(related to this post)

Yeah, it really doesn’t make sense and kind of sucks. But then again, unfortunately it’s nothing new – Katsu told me about an hour ago about how Scorsese was criticised for not taking a moral stance against the main character of The Wolf of Wall Street lol So we’re not the first and not the last people to keep seeing it until the end of time...

[lulutaylorsimaginarium]

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words:1375

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

AN2: You guys are surprising me with this weeks poll. I love it though. You have a few more days to vote

XxL

THE CHAIN MASTERLIST

Part Fifteen

Later that day the guys were busy all around and outside the house. She didn’t know what they were doing but she also knew that if they weren’t telling her, maybe she shouldn’t ask. Some things weren’t her business and maybe she didn’t want to know.

She sat on the sofa with a laptop in her lap typing away with the next step of the plan. Gabby just hoped that the plan actually worked. She knew that it was going to take a few trips over time but she was impatient and she wanted to move as much as possible, at least the first time over the boarder

The front door opened before Benny walked in and smiled to her.

“Do you ever get tried?”

“Trust me I am”

“I don’t believe you”.

“Hey?” she asked “When you take the interior panel of a car door off. The door is hollow, right?”

“I mean there is material and like waterproof stuff in there so it doesn’t rust but nothing we can’t take-out” he offered “Muscle cars might be better because of sheer size”.

“Do you just want me to buy you a muscle car. Benny?”

“Yes”

“You’re going to have to sell it again when we get back here”.

“That’s okay. It still a road trip in a hot car”

“Do you want a Camaro?”

“1967!!!!” he told her excitedly.

“It might have to be a beater.”

“Don’t care”

“Done” she agreed.

“You wouldn’t have to buy four the first time out. Buy two, we can do the work on them, and we can send Will and Frankie back to the states. Then buy the other two Pope and I can stay back to do the work.”

“Need time away from your big brother, huh?”

“It’s like I’m still five years old.”

“I’ll buy a Camaro first. How about that?” she chuckled “But, you have to take me for a spin.”

“Absolutely”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Suddenly the front door opened again.

“You’re meant to be sleeping” Santiago scolded her playfully.

“I’m on the couch. I’m not running a marathon.”

“You’re hopeless”

He kissed her on top of the head before she held his hand without even realizing she had reached for it.

“How are the guys?”

“They’re okay”

“What do you guys want for dinner?"

“Food”

“Very helpful. Thank you” she laughed.

She wanted to do it up big. Thanksgivings little sister. A thousand sides and a lot of laughter. Maybe she was trying to fix everything. The mood that was clouding the house. She hated tension. First Gabby and Frankie. Frankie and Santiago and now Will and Benny.

As much as it sounded corny,  she liked a happy family.

An hour later she snuck out of the house and went to the store. She didn’t have much time, but she knew that pizza would be an easy home meal idea. Men liked carbs, right?

#

She somehow snuck out without anyone noticing her going but she was noticed when she came back lugging countless shopping bags up the front steps, Santiago shook his head as she smiled at him. He called her stubborn, she only laughed before moving into the house.

They were happy about it when the sun went down and they came back inside, the house smelt amazing with a feast waiting for them of homemade pizza, bread and salads. Music blaring around them and Gabby busy in the kitchen, with a tea towel hanging off her shoulder, red hair piled up on top of her head.

“How did you make pizza?” Will asked her

“There are two pizza ovens are out the back. One’s wood, one’s electric” she chuckled because clearly none of them had noticed, even though both ovens were pretty big. “You wash up. Everything will be ready soon”.

One by one they did, and everything was on the dining table waiting for them. Gabby however was still busy in the kitchen.

“Reina” Santiago called out “You going to sitting down?”

“In a second”

“We’re not eating down til you sit down” Will told her

They had been around her for long enough to know her well by now. She would have kept going until they were done.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed for bottle of beer out of the fridge and walked over to them. Santiago grabbed her gently by the hips and pop her in the chair beside him before she grabbed a piece of garlic bread

“Hey” Benny protested “That was mine”

She proceeded to lick the piece of bread and hand it over to him “You want it?”

The whole table laughed, including Frankie. Which was surprising.

“You do have brothers” Will smiled

“Dude, my parents had to buy me food to hide in my bedroom. So my brothers didn’t eat it all. Yeah, I have brothers”

They all fell into a happy hum of conversation and laughter, at a level that they hadn’t seen in a while. It was nice without a cloud of friction looming above them.

“You find me a car yet?” Benny teased

“I have. It’s a shit box but the engine is practically new, so it will you from point A to point B”

“Camaro?” She winked at him “I love you”

“How much?” Will asked

“Eighteen”

“It is a shit box” Will laughed

“With two different coloured doors” she chuckled “Which might be a good thing. It wont draw as much attention”

“Take the interior panels out. Put the money in, cover it back up”.

“Will, its like we know each other” she joked

“Don’t forget we have that paperwork that Sebastion made. Pope and I could go find a transit van. Take some 'coffee' through the boarder that way”

“I forgot about that paperwork”

“That way we could all go together” Santiago offered

“One of us should stay behind keep an eye on the rest of the money” she said “My name’s on the deed. It would look weird otherwise”

“You’re not staying here by yourself” Benny told her

“I’m a big girl”

“I’ll stay too” Frankie told them “Just in case”

Frankie and Gabby stared at each other for a few seconds. She would have loved that idea a few weeks ago. Heck, even a few days ago.

Now it made her feel uneasy for some reason.

#

She knew other places had the cook, not clean rule but it didn’t seem right to have the guys clean up after they had been working all day long. They had all gone their own ways as she gave the kitchen one more wipe down and reached for her little orange bottle of pills. She took two and gulped down ice cold water, not knowing there was someone behind her

“What are you taking?”

“Vitamins” she lied.

Frankie snatched the bottle out of her hand quickly. Knowing she was lying through her teeth

“Valium?”

“Oh” she sighed “It’s spelt different, isn’t it?”

“Why the fuck are you taking Valium?”

“Why do you think Frankie?” she sighed softly “I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I don’t have it in me. I know life is crap right now and things are happening that you do not like. I get it, but I still need you”

“Gab”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Yeah”

“Then why are we doing this, Baby? We’re under the same roof and I fucking miss you. I don’t know how to explain it” she shook her head gently

“I know”

“Then what are we doing?”

“I don’t know”

“Neither do I”

“I just..” he started but he wasn’t sure where to take that sentence “I don’t know”

“Can you figure it out please?” she asked gently “I’m going to bed before these kick in”.

He watched her walk upstairs and disappeared like she has done so many times before. Leaving him alone downstairs with his thoughts

[shy-urban-hobbit]

“Come on Lam, it’s not that hard.”

Lambert could hear and smell the others amusement as he continued to glare at the waterproof tarp which was currently at waist height, mocking him. When Aiden had said he knew of another use for them, this isn’t quite what he pictured.

It had been a hard day of riding. The road long and bumpy (ridiculously bumpy. How neither of the horses had been lamed was a miracle) and with no hopes of reaching the next town before nightfall.

“Great. Another night sleeping on the ground.” Lambert had grumbled, purely out of the need to vent his spleen about the nearest inconvenience.

“Doesn’t have to be.” Aiden chirped.

“What do you mean, doesn’t have to be? unless you’ve got some pocket-sized, four poster bed stashed away somewhere.”

Aiden laughed loudly at that, “I’ll show you when we stop. Although, you could be onto something with the whole pocket-sized bed thing. Maybe we should have a word with Geralt’s Mage?”

Lambert had dubiously followed Aiden’s instructions, tying his tarp between two sturdy looking trees as Aiden talked about how they used hammocks at the caravan during the more crowded years – there’s only so many times you can stand being kicked in the face before fights break out - and that this was more comfortable than having to balance in a tree when being at ground level wasn’t really an option (Lambert didn’t ask him to elaborate on that. It was an unspoken arrangement that they didn’t ask anything about each others respective schools. Any information given up freely however, was a different matter).

“If any more monsters develop the ability to fly we’d be rich. So few people actually bother looking up.” Aiden said, giving one of the lines an experimental tug.

“Up to what? You’re not even six feet off the ground.”

Aiden casually flopped down onto his back, using the momentum to start lazily swinging himself backwards and forwards, one foot dangling over the edge, “Usually I’d be more or less in the tree canopy but I don’t want Vesemir hunting me down because you broke your neck falling out. Don’t forget to check your knots again.”

“They’re fine.” Lambert huffed, “And how stupid would you have to be to fall out of one of these.”

The famous last words which had bought him to his current situation: Glaring daggers at a makeshift hammock after falling out of the thing six times.

“Just sit down and swing you legs over. Like you’re getting in bed.”

“What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing?” Lambert snapped as he went to sit on the edge, the hammock tipping dangerously as he did so.

“No, more in the middle. Wait, hang on – ha! That wasn’t even intentional.”

He heard Aiden rise from his own hammock before he was behind Lambert, his breath tickling the back of the Wolf’s neck where he was half sitting, half standing in an awkward crouch.

“Don’t worry about tipping backwards, I’ve got you. Now, sit down.”

Lambert did so as obediently as if Aiden had used Axii on him. He felt himself tipping again before Aiden’s hand was on his back, steadying him.

“Alright, now swing both legs around and then just lie back.”

Lambert willed himself to ignore the white knuckle grip he had on the edge as he did so, Aiden’s hand never leaving his back, migrating to his bicep as he lay back.

“And you’re in! Comfy, right?”

Lambert gave a non-committal grunt. It actually was. Being almost cocooned, looking up at the network of tree branches above him, the gentle rocking motion caused by his earlier movements almost soothing.

“Sleep tight, Wolf.”

Lambert raised his head to look over at Aiden and arched an eyebrow in question, he’d never heard that one before.

“What do you mean sleep – fuck!”

Lambert hit the ground hard as one of the knots holding his hammock in place slid free. Dumping him unceremoniously onto the forest floor.

Aiden peered down at him with a dry “Guess."

[ehgood-enough]

Done! Quite possibly my worst top stitching ever. Too many bulky areas to be fair I did nothing to reduce the bulk and both vinyls are thick. I really don’t know that I’ll ever actually use the bag so I maybe didn’t put as much effort into

I do think it’s a nice design and I used nice material but as much as I love making ‘busy’ pattern bags I don’t end up carrying them much because my clothes all tend to be pretty ‘busy’. Let’s be real a what we do in the shadows bag ain’t gonna look great with my three little pigs dress. I’m always saying I should make more solid color clothes but they’re so boring. Which is also why I don’t make solid bags.

I did the rivet placement by vibes and well the vibes were a bit off for a couple but overall I think they’re fine

I like using ottertex waterproofing canvas as lining. No need for interfacing, easy to clean and easy to sew

Pattern is the rudeneja handbag by lavender & twine. Overall I do like the pattern. I think it’s a nice size pocketbook and I can see myself making it again. Probably would do hardware strap anchors instead because I’m lazy but the vinyl ones really weren’t that hard. I’m just not great being precise

[ableism]

as a tried n true Professional, do you have any hiking boot recommendations other than the salomons? a lower price point is ideal but I'm more curious than I am in the market and I trust your judgements

Umm Yes Comma. Your mileage may vary in an absolutely huge way. If u would send a second ask with following information; What kind of hiking you want to do, how much outdoors experience you have, how much you plan to beat these up, typical weather conditions, level of ankle support you want, if you have high arches, any existing orthopedic problems, what textile you want (full grain leather? synthetics with waterproofing? vibram sole?), and what kind of shoes you typically prefer in your day to day (do you wear something flat like vans, maybe just sandals, tennis shoes, etc). I definitely have million recommendations but they’re hugely dependent on your personal Use Case so just lmk some of that and I’ll post some links. On the matter of Pricing, hiking boots are one of those things you just kinda gotta spend the money on :,( I got a really good deal on my boots, they were basically half off and I would rebuy them at full price. Always check for sales at local outfitters, REI, the REI resupply program, and direct from manufacturer sales. Used gear with no irreparable defects (soles aren’t worn smooth, lace eyelets and hooks are in good condition, soles and upper aren’t peeling off) then used gear is a great option to get amazing brands at a lower price. So yes tell me your Hiking Business and I’ll post some options !!

[undercoverbisexualfrog]

Foot Clan incorrect quotes bc why not

All quotes from perchance.org Anton: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway.  Chris: Anton: Vroom vroom, come out already.

Xever: Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer extortion. The X makes it sound cool.

Baxter, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

Ivan: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things. Anton: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

In the chip aisle at Walmart, doing a late-night grocery run. Tiger Claw: Minding their own business, looking for tortilla chips. Tiger Claw: Finds tortilla chips. Anton, to Ivan: See, they know what they're here for. They know what they're doing. Be more like them. Make a decision, Ivan!

Anton: Life could be worse, Xever. Xever: Life could be a lot better too!

Baxter: Chris is so… Anton: Annoying? Xever: Cute? Ivan: Funny? Tiger Claw: Weird? Baxter: I don't know, maybe if y'all let me FINISH for ONCE IN MY LIFE, I'd tell you!

Chris: Xever, what do you have?  Xever: A KNIFE!  Chris: Okay, have fu-  Tiger Claw: NO!

Anton: Ivan is too tall for me to kiss them on the lips. What should I do?  Xever: Punch them in the stomach. Then, when they double over in pain, kiss them.  Baxter: Tackle them!  Chris: Dump them.  Tiger Claw: Kick them in the shin!  Ivan: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

Anton: I see the red flags, I acknowledge that they're there, and then I completely ignore them.

Xever: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.  Chris: Wow. They sound stupid.  Xever: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.  Chris: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”  Xever: I guess you’re right. Hey Chris, I love you.  Chris: See! Just say that!  Xever: Holy fucking shit.  Chris: If that flies over their head then, sorry Xever, but they're too dumb for you.  Xever: Chris.

Tiger Claw: The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.  Baxter: I almost died.  Tiger Claw: That... was my favorite memory.

Baxter: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.  Anton: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.  Ivan: A realist sees a freight train.  Xever: The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks.

Anton: What are you in the mood for?  Ivan: World domination.  Anton: That's a bit ambitious.  Ivan: You are my world.  Anton: Aww...  Ivan: Anton: Ivan: Anton: OH.

Ivan: Uh, Xever? Tiger Claw is in the pool and I don't think they're waterproof.  Xever: What?  Chris: I think they meant, Tiger Claw is drowning.  Xever: WHAT?!  *Meanwhile*  Tiger Claw: *is drowning*  Baxter: OH MY GOD, TIGER CLAW! KEEP SWIMMING!  Tiger Claw: I can't swim, dumbass— *sinks*  Baxter: TIGER CLAW!

Ivan, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

Anton: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.  Baxter: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...  Tiger Claw: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.  Xever: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.  Chris: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.  Ivan: Mental stability, my old friend!  Anton: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little? 

Ivan: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Anton: Um…Neat. later Anton, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Xever. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. Xever, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Anton. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Chris confessed their love for me? Anton: Didn't you thank them? Xever: closes the book and looks at the ceiling I fucking thanked them.

Tiger Claw: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?  Baxter: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.�� Tiger Claw: That wasn't an ambulance, I drove you.  Baxter: But I heard a siren.  Ivan: That was Anton.  Anton: Sorry, I got nervous.

Baxter: Unfollow me if you think the Earth is flat.  Chris: *seriously pretends to be a flat-earther to antagonize the anti-flat-earther.  Anton: *neutral but makes polls to start fights, "Is the Earth flat? Let's discuss!"*  Xever: *not a flat-earther but makes "the Earth may be flat but this ass ain't" jokes for viral tweets*.  Ivan: *actual flat-earther.*

Tiger Claw: Good morning.  Ivan: Good morning.  Chris: Good morning.  Xever: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.  Anton: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS!

Chris: *writing a letter*  Chris: Dear Santa,  I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty...  And it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard. 

Tiger Claw: Hey Ivan, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this.  Ivan, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah?  Tiger Claw: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Ivan!

Anton: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.  Xever, used to Anton being dumb: Sure...  Anton: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.  Xever: Okay?  Anton: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.  Xever: Anton: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-  Xever: Jesus, that one is a little-  Ivan, interested: No, no, Anton, keep going.

Baxter: Ah, yes. Here we have a beautiful couple...  Anton: I really care about your feelings!  Ivan: I really care about YOUR feelings!  Baxter, turning their head: ...and then there's the disaster couple...  Chris: YOU NEED TO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME INSTEAD OF BEING AT THE HOSPITAL!  Xever: I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME AT THE HOSPITAL IF YOU STOPPED INSISTING ON FIGHTING EVERYONE WHO COMES WITHIN A FIVE FOOT RADIUS OF YOU!

*when the Squad drops food*  Ivan: Eh, oh well.  Anton: FIVE-SECOND RULE!  Xever: FUCK!  Tiger Claw: *just gets more food*  Baxter: *drops to their knees and mourns the food*  Chris: *eats the food off the ground*

Chris: Nothing in life is free.  Ivan: Love is free.  Tiger Claw: Knowledge is free.  Baxter: Friendship is free.  Xever: Self-respect is free.  Anton: Everything's free if you don't pay for it.  The Squad: ...  Ivan: Anton, that's illegal-  Chris: No, let them finish! 

if I’m bothered later I might do more idk