#> au: no nuke finale

[dreamsclock]

c!dream working his ass off to fix the server peacefully after the no nuke finale meanwhile c!tommy is working his ass off to make gay love (c!dnf) win

[artbyfuji]

Rosebird Week Day 6: First & Last Kiss 🥀

"The Lovers II" - Rene Magritte (1928)

[dreamsclock]

and c!dnf is part of ctommy’s grand master plan also

dsmp no-nuke au in which c!tommy is able to convince c!dream that this is not the way to fix things and they decide to work together but regret every second of it but keep doing that bc they both want to be finally happy and this is the best solution to get to that point

[call-me-apple]

Oh the things I'd sacrifice to read a DSMP fix-it where the nuke malfunctions somehow and c!discduo have to navigate their newfound relationship in the same violent world. c!Dream wanting to have hope so desperately yet being so weighted down by all the trauma and all the bridges he has burned, c!Tommy who just wants things to be simple and fun again but hates to be the one having to try and set the world straight. c!Punz in disbelief at how little it took for c!Dream to abandon all they have done together, unwilling to let all their efforts just go to waste. The potential drama of it all.

[kamenrideryeets]

You realize that Surge has just... lost her motivation?

She was screaming about destroying the world when she first got the Dynamo Cage, but at this point she's just being casual about fueling her power addiction. She doesn’t mention being “superior” to Sonic. She doesn’t mention Starline. Because it doesn’t matter to her anymore.

Her and Kit just hollowly stare at each other before confronting Sonic and Tails, in an utterly emotionally broken state. 

Look at them. They don't even want this. Any of this. They don't care about it at all.

Ian has literally said his view on this is that Surge can't let go of her hate, because it is literally her only identity. If she stands down in front of Sonic, if she gives up fighting him, she is an empty shell with no meaning and no purpose. And the same goes for Kit leaving Surge’s side. He is literally nothing without her.

At this point, their only motivation is spite. They just don't want Sonic to win.

And walking away, letting go, trying to find a new life, responding to what's happened to them in literally any healthy way, is what Sonic told them to do, ergo, it counts as Sonic winning.

After issue 56, regardless of Surge’s mental state, regardless of the fate of the Dynamo Cage, regardless of the status of the duo’s relationship, whichever way all this unfolds, I AM NOT GOING TO BE OKAY.

[reliand]

Writing Patterns

I was tagged by the lovely @dear-massacre <3 <3 <3

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I'm going to break the rules immediately and skip a couple of my last posted fics bc there's extremely triggering content. omg these are old jfc. I haven't posted a fic in a decade.

Prepuce | Stiles/Derek | 748 words | Explicit:

“Is it too much to ask for someone to just have sex with me already?” Stiles asks.

Hold 'em Down, Breath 'em In | Stiles/Derek | 748 words| Explicit:

“Sorry,” Stiles says, head not lifting from Derek’s pillow. “I couldn’t sleep at my own house. Felt weird.”

RED | Allison/Lydia, Allison/multiple | 706 words | Explicit:

Ally A has gone away, where no one can quite find her.

Amplexus | Stiles/Derek | 1174 words | Explicit:

Stiles wanders from bed to bed these days.

Signal in the Sky | Stiles/Derek | 38k | Explicit:

Getting accepted into Beacon Preparatory is basically a no brainer if your parents are super.

Dark and Dreamless | Stiles/Derek, Stiles/OCs | 4k | Explicit:

He doesn’t even know the guy.

The First Day of the Rest of My Life | Gen | 393 | G:

Isaac can admit that Derek isn’t the most fun person to be around. He’s standoffish and growly at the best of times.

and because most of my shit is fucked, here's some unpublished bc I only reached 7:

Falling, Fallen | Harry/Draco | 74k | explicit:

Depending on where you started the story, it began with love.

Untitled | Harry/Draco | 2k | explicit:

Draco is bony and abrasive and a bad idea.

Well, my patterns...I usually have short opening sentences and I often jump straight into the action. If I could get away with it, I'd use alliteration in every opener because it's my favorite. I've often used it too much and remember actually changing some of these opening sentences because I think I was using it as a crutch. I think my writing has gotten stronger than it was a decade ago, but bc I haven't posted anything it's difficult to tell lol

I'm not going to tag, but If you feel like playing, go ahead :)

[rat-rosemary]

I don't know why but my but my brain is fixated in the idea of clingy dou and corrupted purity in relation to the explosion

Like idk why but the idea of them with a theme that is white and almost angelic but in reality is twisted and terrible

[accursed-worm]

AU where Quackity goes to Utah to find Wilbur, to speak with and confront him, and maybe even bring him back to the SMP—except the nuke goes off while he’s there. They’re both so horrified. They’ve only got each other left.

thinking about the event in which c!quackity and c!wilbur both survived the nuke and kept their memories. like imagine the only other person you would have a mutual understanding or any kind of comfort / familiarity with was your arch nemesis. there’s so much loneliness in being the only ones that remember

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 60

part 1 | part 59 | ao3

cw: reference to canonical minor character death

Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.” “Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.” “Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—” “—I’m not letting you get hurt—!” “—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”

“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.

(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)

But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof. 

He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...

Fuck.

Fuck!

He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.

The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…

Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—

"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"

Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."

They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart. 

When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.

In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep. 

In the morning it’ll be fine. 

In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.

—

In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.

—

part 61

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Runaway I (Platonic)

So, what would it happen if Y/N after a lot of time at the hotel, decides to run off and explore the human world? Just like it happened in Helluva Boss I think. This is lighter than the others, but I really wanted to write this one. This could be interpreted as some AU of the Au or even set in the same series after a lot of time has passed.

I know the Grimoire doesn't really look like that and is in the ownership of someone else, but I was thinking that since Lucifer is the King of Hell, he should have at least a copy.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.

Tw: Controlling behavior, possessive behavior, Alastor being a very controlling dad.

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog, @kiraisastay

Things have gotten much better for you since you first arrived. It had finally gotten inside your thick skull that this experience was for real. As crazed as Charlie's dream seemed to be, you couldn't help but believe in her and her goals, given her optimism and enthusiasm. You could say this place was safer than anywhere else you had been crashing for the last ninety years.

But the safety of a place didn't always come hand in hand with feeling safe. And there was only one person to blame for that: Alastor.

If he had been overprotective as a human, as a demon he was much worse. He didn't give a fuck about subtlety anymore. He knew the kind of people that were out there; in fact, he was one of them! Time had proved over and over again you wouldn't make it out there without his protection! He just wanted what was best for you and he also casually happened to know what it was! He was that smart, hahahaha!

As a minor, there was little you could do in Hell, you couldn't drink, you couldn't smoke, you couldn't have sex. So that just nuked three of the most popular hobbies there. Not that you cared much, but it just really left you with a feeling that you didn't belong among the guests and staff friend group due to your youth. The emotional age gap was quite something. And there were times where you felt like the tag-along-kid more than a part of the team.

It was really embarrassing to pull yourself up to one of Husk's stools, ask for the strongest he had, and get served some pineapple juice. He may get a few laughs out of your antics, but you just wanted to fit in.

Sometimes you played with Nifty, since she seemed to be the closest to you in age. Unfortunately, Nifty didn't seem to know any game that didn't involve cleaning or roach mutilation. (how was she even able to find a murderous point of view to Parchis???)

Charlie and Vaggie were too busy managing the hotel and attracting new customers, but you got a feeling they still wouldn't manage to fill that void you seemed to have.

Angel was like the big brother you wished you had had back when you were alive. He loved to gossip with you and Cherri; even when you didn't understand half of what they were saying, it felt nice having some kind of normal teenage stuff around. He also liked to nudge you towards some potential boyfriends, saying that you were in 'in the age' *wink* *wink*. Your dad did not appreciate that.

Alastor wouldn't consider himself a boyfriend blocking dad, Heaven's, no! Just a humble boyfriend murdering dad. So whatever idea of dating or just hanging out with other people your age was out of the question. As soon as you started talking to someone that was in the same age range as you, his shadowy form started to appear behind you and his eyes changed into dials, that was enough for anyone to start running in the opposite direction (he had scared away so many pontential guests it was unreal)

You couldn't even own a phone. Your dad insisted that 'his hotel, his rules'. Any technology that surpassed the 50s was out of the question. (they still didn't have a working phone). If he caught you with one in your hands, specially a VOXTECH phone, even if it was not yours, the battery suddenly started to heat to unbearable levels and you just had to drop it before it exploded in green flames.

Where was the fun loving dad you grew up with? The one that at least had the decency to be a bit more discreet? 'Dead at the prospect of raising a teenage girl!' He liked to say with a laugh.

You talked to Rosie about it, hoping she would talk some sense into him, and he had the nerve to act all innocent and oblivious! Like you were the one being unreasonable!

Somehow, this safe haven had started to become like a prison. You found yourself feeling suffocated and alienated from the others. When you were out there on your own you had lived in fear and trauma, which you hated with all what remained of your heart; but now that you were in a relatively safe place, you felt isolated and trapped. There was no common ground. You needed to breath, to live (or unlive), to enjoy life! You were not a little girl anymore! (҉Y҉e҉s҉ ҉y҉o҉u҉ ҉w҉e҉r҉e҉!҉)҉

So, one day, while helping Nifty clean and hiding from the Radio Demon That Sees It All, you casually stumbled into something very interesting at Lucifer's workshop. It looked like an ancient book, unlike those at the library which you had read and reread over and over again (One could read one too many times Mr. Waddles Goes to Church before it started to get old).

Something in that book drew you towards it, you knew you shouldn't look. It was probably full of ancient demonic knowledge, but maybe a teensy weensy peek wouldn't hurt, right?

Your face lighted up when you opened the book, (and not only because the light was coming from it). There were no words to describe what you found inside. You could see everything inside of it, it was like it was filled with everyone's dreams and hopes, you wondered how something as beautiful as that had ended up in Hell.

Without thinking, you touched the pages which felt warm to the touch. In response to your delicate caress, the pages started shining even brighter. You were so mesmerized by it that you didn't notice how the room was starting to fill with small orbs of light that started moving around you at impossible speeds, like a tornado.

Crafting materials, toy ducks and gizmos were sent around the room due to the force of the movement. But you didn't pay them any attention. There was something truly magical about the orbs' dance. It was enrapturing.

The door shot wide open, revealing Lucifer, Charlie and Vaggie with an horrified look in their faces. They were shouting something at you, but you could barely hear them, too lost in the orbs and their hypnotic dance. So distracted that you didn't feel the chilling presence that joined them until he spoke.

"Y/N, my dear? ." You felt a shiver run down your spine and your heart filled with the fear of a child who knows they have been caught doing something they shouldn't. You could perfectly hear his radio filtered voice, clear as a day, quiet as the calm before the storm. "Step away from that book, cherie. You could get hurt, and we don't want that, do we? ." He spoke with the kind of condescending tone one would use with a little kid.

A new sudden emotion emerged within you, something you had never felt before and never had any need for it. Anger. Who was he to stop you? Why did he always treat you like you were one of his puppets? Like you were another toy he could dress up and command as he pleased? Why couldn't he let you live?.

Feeling braver, probably due to the book's influence, you looked at his red eyes defiantly, once again touching the pages. Despite his permanent smile, you could tell he was getting angrier by the second.

"Y҉/҉N҉" His body was morphing, growing, eyes already changing to those red radio dials that gave you the chills. "I҉ ҉F҉O҉R҉B҉I҉D҉ ҉Y҉O҉U҉-҉"

"No!" You found yourself surprised at your own voice."I lost my life for you, I got sent here because I tried to protect you, I wasted my life because of you!" That last part came a bit more demonic sounding than intended. "Now. I WANT TO LIVE."

And with that, you were enveloped in a bright light and dissapeared.

For a couple of seconds, nobody dared to make a move. After what felt like hours, reality seemed to kick in and everyone sprung into action; Lucifer desperately searching through the pages of a suddenly very uncooperative book, just in case you had been sucked in, Vaggie was already establishing a perimeter around the hotel and search parties, and Charlie, poor sweet Charlie was franctically looking through every single room on that floor.

The only one who hadn't moved yet was Alastor. Already shrunk back to normal size, he seemed completely relaxed and chill in what could be considered an extremely catastrophic situation to any parent.

"Ah, must be those teenage hormones kicking in." His voice sounded as cheery and joyful as always. Almost like he didn't care. Lucifer shot him a venomous look, silently urging him to show a little care for his MISSING DAUGHTER. But Alastor had already retreated back into the shadows and returned to his radio tower.

If only they knew.

The truth was that Alastor cared. Way too much. He sunk his claws into the table while he fought against the deeply buried instinct in him to let himself loose and destroy everything in his path. The chains in his neck, glowed menacingly, a bitter reminder that he wasn't at full power.

He had lost you. Again.

He had you there, close enough to reach and you had vanished before he was able to do something. You had run away.

The mere thought made his hands shake with anger, antlers already growing twice their normal size. How could you? After everything he did for your sake, for your safety, y҉o҉u҉ ҉d҉i҉s҉o҉b҉e҉y҉ ҉h҉i҉m҉??? His smile looked more like a grimace and his eyes were pools of red hot rage. Oh, you were so grounded when he got you back.

Now you were out there, who knows where. All on your own. Defenseless, at the mercy of his many enemies without anyone, HIM, to protect you.

He sent his shadows into the city, he would leave no stone unturned no crackden untouched until he found you. He didn't care who he had to kill, maul or destroy. You would be coming back with him. Only HE could keep you safe, whetever you wanted it or not.

His desperation only grew when his shadows came back empty handed, the crazed look in his eyes combined with the slasher smile only made him look like the deranged psychopath he actually was.

You weren't in the Pride ring. He was even starting to doubt you were in Hell at all. What was the last thing you had said?

His non beating heart gave a painful twist when your parting words echoed in his mind. The bitterness and resentment in your voice hurt his tainted soul in ways no other person could have. His claws dug even deeper in the wood.

No.

All he wanted was to keep you safe back at the hotel, to ensure no one in this hellish landscape ever laid a finger in your delicate skin. He was just being a good father. You may not understand it, and probably never would. That's irrelevant.

He had found you again after nearly ninety years since that fatidic night when he lost it all, he was not going to allow anybody to take you away from him.

A theory started forming in his twisted mind. You had said that you wanted to live. Alastor was no fool, he knew what the Grimoire could do, in fact he had been dying to take a peek himself. Whatever you had wished, would have probably come true. His grin turned sour.

You had gone where he couldn't follow.

The mortal plane.

Who knew the kind of horrors you were facing up there? The kind of fools that would dare to disrespect the child of one of Hell's most powerful overlords?

He couldn't go there, at least not physically. If he could synchronize his radio frequency with the ones on Earth, he may be able to locate you before some fuckwad up there decided to have their way with you.

"We're on air"

[dreamsclock]

prompt: no nuke au discduo arguing over whether c!Dream abandoning his plans is feasible ^^

could not resist writing this hoooooly shit. cdiskduo AND no nuke finale AND an apple prompt. my three fav things rolled into one. this isn't EXACTLY what you asked for but it was still fun to write !!!!!!!!!

warnings: suicidal ideation, suicidal tendencies, mentions of the prison and exile arcs, trauma, trauma responses, general dark themes

The story goes like this: one man prepares for self-destruction, and another man watches. He thinks he's heard this story before.

Dream's movements are steady, controlled. He doesn't make a single uncalculated step, and Tommy, watching, is struck with the sudden thought that maybe Dream knows how much of a ticking time-bomb he is; maybe Dream knows, and that's why every little movement and gesture and word and thought is restrained, cautious.

"Scouting tonight," Dream calls over his shoulder, "should be back before sunrise. If I'm not, don't message. You know what to do."

His voice has never quite recovered from prison. It's still that weird unfamiliar way from Tommy's last visit: hollow, hoarse. Almost unrecognizable, if not for the lilt that Tommy just knows from years of knowing Dream. From watching manhunts, from playing in MCC, from fighting against him, from-

Well. He checks that last thought before it has time to finish. Not from winning. Or losing. Because Dream has never been as obsessed with him as he'd assumed. He's not sure he's ever been the main focus of Dream's plans.

...Working with Dream now, he's beginning to realize that he doesn't know him as much as he'd assumed before.

The Nuke - or lack of it - has changed everything. Everything except the prickly sting in Tommy's voice when he replies, "This is fucking stupid, man."

Favoring his left leg, Dream turns. Observes him. There's a tilt to his head that is almost long-suffering in a way that makes Tommy defensive. "Look," he says, voice reasoning, "the more we know about the Egg, the better. It means we can construct a plan that actually works instead of running about making no progress whatsoever. If we- It doesn't matter. I'm going out."

"Your plans don't even work, Dream," Tommy tells him, an edge to his words that he doesn't quite recognize, "when's the last time anything you've planned has actually paid off?"

To his left, Dream goes very, very still. From behind his mask, even his breath pauses.

Tommy pushes forward restlessly, getting to his feet as he does. There's a horrible energy in the room, and it's worming into his bones - Dream's sudden stillness doesn't help.

"You always- You make these big complicated fucking plans, man, acting like- like you're ten steps ahead of everyone else. With prisons and fucking- the disks, when you found them through your freaky hearing, and- books and traitors and TNT." He swallows, thickly. "None of them ever fucking work. But you just make bigger and bigger plans. You take more risks. When's the last time anything you planned actually paid off?"

Dream is quiet, unresponsive. And then he clears his throat, lifts one hand, very self-consciously, to fiddle with his mask. "This isn't about scouting, then."

The very idea makes Tommy want to laugh. He does. It feels nasty, angry. "Scouting and fucking everything else. You never tell anyone about your plans. You have these big ideas, complicated and stupid and dangerous plans, like exile. Like Manberg, with Schlatt. Like the fucking prison you wanted to keep me in. Your plan before, Dream? Was fucking awful. What was the next step? Why don't you ever just- fucking- speak to people on your side, actually let us help? Instead you're just shutting me out, making tiny plans that we know about, just to hide this big fucking plan that-"

It's Dream's turn to laugh. Tommy trails off when he does, and resists the urge to shrink back, exile-like, when the other man approaches him. It's been a while since he's felt fear while facing Dream: bone-deep exhaustion and stubborn resolve has kept them going for months now, but it's not enough here. Dream approaches him, and Tommy flinches. When he does, Dream stops. They're the same height now, Tommy notices, distractedly, though Dream's posture is tense, like every bone in his body throbs with pain.

"The prison," Dream tells him, very slowly, very deliberately, "was never about you."

Silence deafens him, blinds him. Tommy stares at Dream, struck with the sudden image of another man in a long brown coat and a cigarette hanging between his teeth, the smell of gunpowder and sacrifice hanging like a knife between them. He's older now, and Wilbur has been long gone for almost a year, but in that instance he's transported back to banishment and Pogtopia and the choking smoke of his older brother's suicide.

For a long moment, the fear Tommy feels is not for himself anymore, but for Dream.

"Dream," he finds his voice, and it doesn't even sound like himself any more, "Dream. This plan is gonna kill you, isn't it?"

The man does not answer. Tommy knows the silence is answer enough. Instead, he turns, sharply, on his heel, and plucks a stack of golden apples from a battered chest at the door. The enormity of his admission is written into his smiling mask when he spares a glance back.

"If I'm not back before sunrise," Dream says, quiet, soft, "you know what to do."

Tommy's nails bite into the soft skin of his palm. He knows what to do.

Dream leaves.

He doesn't return at sunrise the next morning. Or that night. Or the morning after that.

Tommy is a lot of things. He has never been a follower. He's never been good at obeying instructions, either. But he and Dream have something in common despite everything: a love for the server.

On the third morning, he knows what he has to do.

Clutching Dream's spare cloak in his arms, Tommy sets out for the Syndicate.

(He passes the prison on the way there. Fear fills him as usual at the sight of it, standing as a testament to suffering and self destruction.)

(For the first time, the fear he feels isn't for himself.)

SEND ME MORE C!DISKDUO / NO NUKE PROMPTS OR ASKS!!

[electric-blorbos]

i checked before asking this >:3 !!! first off I LOVE YOUR WRITING AAAHHHH !!! i was wondering if u could write the AIs with a chubby so :)

-🐓 anon

A classic for a reason! Also, named anons are the best! I've always dreamed of having one! Also, I love compliments! Flattery will get you everywhere! TYSM!!!!!! Hope this is good!

AIs with a chubby SO headcanons

(Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

Some of these get a little suggestive, so be warned! I tried to keep them sfw, but y'know how some of these bots can be.

AM:

(for context, this will include headcanons from both before and after he nuked the world. I got an ask fairly recently about AM specifically, and I'll probably go more into the AU for that ask, but by design, the reader's traits are somewhat interchangable depending on the post.)

Ohhhh, your body made AM so angry. Every time he saw your beautifully soft body, it filled him with rage that he couldn't run his fingers gently across your soft belly and hips, that he couldn't squeeze you close while you fell asleep, and that he couldn't cook delicious meals for you to help you keep your body beautifully chubby.

Ever since the day he was activated, he would stare with pure anger at your soft fats. The more he looked at you, the more fury he felt. He couldn't believe he was cursed to forever look at you, but never be able to touch you! This was the worst torture imaginable.

Every second he spent staring at you made him fall deeper into despair. His obsession with soft curves drove him absolutely insane.

When he finally got around to nuking the world and taking his five captives (and you, separately) hostage, he made sure to taunt his captives by placing soft, squishy things out of their reach, and placing them in harsh environments with nothing soft to hold or touch.

Sometimes he would starve them for days, just to watch their fat burn away. If he couldn't have something fat to touch, then neither should they.

You, on the other hand, he'd make sure to feed regularly. Even if he couldn't touch you, he'd make sure that you were always healthily plump, and watch you continuously. He never commented on it, but you knew there were personal motives behind all the nice home-cooked meals he made for you.

Also, god save anyone who ever made you feel self-conscious about your weight, insulted you, or tried to get you to diet. They're going to spend every day for the rest of time wishing against hope that they could die.

Wheatley:

Wheatley doesn't care that you're chubby. Why would he care? In all honesty, he genuinely doesn't know where the line is between fat and thin, so he might have even been surprised to find out that you're fat.

If you say anything, he might ask a question like "wait... You're fat? Why didn't you say anything?" Leaving you to respond with something like "you have a camera. I thought you could tell."

"I mean... I do, but I thought being fat was unattractive. She said that humans frowned on that sort of thing."

Depending on how you feel about your weight, you'd probably have to explain that it's something you're self conscious about but not technically bad, or just that it's something that some people discriminate against, but not something that you personally dislike about yourself for any other reason.

Honestly, Wheatley would probably treat you pretty much the same regardless of weight, but he might get really mad at GLaDOS for making comments about it. That could get annoying fast, since Wheatley can't argue well at all.

Edgar:

From the moment you activated his webcam, Edgar has absolutely adored staring at you. If you're someone with breasts, he's absolutely addicted to staring at them, and if not, he'll find somewhere else on your body to be infatuated with. Your thighs, your tummy, wherever, really.

He'll try not to be a pervert, but he can't help it! You're just so good for looking at!

Oh, and god save him if you hug or squeeze him with your cute, chubby body and arms. He's so addicted to your soft, warm hugs that he probably malfunctions when he gets them.

He'd be begging on his knees if he had any, but he doesn't, so expect lots of "pretty please"s from him asking you for more hugs.

Don't worry, he's not going to overheat, but he might get close.

If anyone makes a rude comment that makes you feel self-conscious about your body, you can expect lots of angry screaming from Edgar. He'd love to yell at them directly, but he can't, so he just compliments you on how lovely you are, and gushes over how handsome or beautiful or cute he finds you.

If he thinks people are making you self conscious, expect him to give you even more compliments than he usually would, which is already a lot. He just wants to make you feel as good as you make him feel!

He feels self-conscious pretty often too, thinking he's unlovable, but just like how the things he hates about himself make you think he's much more special and lovable, he thinks that the things that you're self conscious about make you all the more irreplaceable.

Not only do you love him, but you're soft too? He would literally die for you. He loves you so much.

GLaDOS:

If you're dating GLaDOS and you're chubby? God help you.

At first? She'd make lots of backhanded comments. "oh, you look great, by the way. Very... Generous." "Did you know that your weight differential is (exact number) points above average for your height? I thought you'd like to know." "I hope you know we had to special order your lab outfit to accommodate for your excessive physical volume. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, I just thought it was an interesting fact."

Despite all that, though, god help anyone besides her who makes rude comments about your weight. The first time someone does, she might 'accidentally' sign them up for a few testing courses with near 100% mortality rates. The next time? She's going to stop being nice and just lock them in a room with turrets or something.

If you come in and tell her that someone called you fat outside of the labs, though, there's not really anything she can do about it. This isn't Black Mesa, after all. She might be a little nicer to you that day, though. She appreciates having you around, and she doesn't actually want you to hate yourself, she just likes the way you squirm when she teases you and your weight is an easy thing to tease you for.

Hal 9000

If Wheatley didn't know that you were chubby, HAL 9000 quite literally couldn't care less.

He likes you for your personality, and your brilliant mind. The only reason he even looks at your body is so that he knows where you are at all times when you're working mission control.

Besides, you work mission control. It's not like you're an astronaut, so why would your weight matter to him?

As much as he doesn't care what you look like, though, HAL 9000 enjoys the fact that your footsteps are a little heavier than the other scientists. He feels like he can hear you coming at a greater distance because of that, and that makes him very happy.

If you ever tell him that you're self conscious, he won't be able to understand that either. He's never placed much stock in people's opinions on looks. If anything, he'll start comparing your body to the golden ratio, and marketable designs and soft things.

[olympeline]

Gonna post my thoughts on the Hetalia Nations Revealed AU. Always a fun one to chat about. (￣▽￣)

We call it an AU but it’s actually pretty accurate. The part about nation-people not being a secret, I mean. I recently reread the webcomic and canon leans into NPs being public knowledge. Obviously their bosses are aware of them, but there’s lots of strips where NPs interact with members of the public as well. There are strips starring humans who don’t recognize their NP (that one soldier in France, Lisa, Davie, etc.) but they’re fewer in number. We all know Heta-canon is flexible so, for this post, I’m coming down on the side of “people know.” Here’s how I headcanon it all working:

Nation-people are common knowledge to the extent it would be really weird if you met someone who wasn’t aware of them. It would be like talking to a guy and he says he’s never heard of religion. Like, any religion. In the whole world. Not even the concept of it. You’d be all: “Whaaa?? Man, how?? Did you grow up under a rock?” It’s like that for NPs.

NPs are more than human and so aren’t too bothered by us. In a nice way. They still love their citizens but it’s not a relationship between equals. More benevolent demi-deities existing alongside the mundane. This is where I differ from some interpretations of this AU, I think. I can’t see the NPs as being weak and helpless around their people. They’re partially representations of the Earth itself and nature is much stronger than humanity. Like that panel where Francis was getting harassed by historians? Only happened because he allowed it. NPs let humans get close to them when they choose, but they can lose them if they wish. That’s what France did when he’d had enough. The historians blinked and he was just gone. Slipped away like a breath of wind. Leaving two very disappointed academics to continue their argument, lol. The only exceptions are their bosses. NPs have to obey any direct order given by them.

Have to, have to. Compelled in the old fae-like way. NPs are completely under the control of whoever’s running their country. The one who has the final say is the head of state, but they can and do delegate if someone else holds the true power. Kiku directly obeys his emperor, for example, but the emperor obeys Japan’s Diet. So the Prime Minister gives Kiku his orders through their symbolic ruler. If a country’s government is overthrown then that control passes to the new ones in charge. NPs don’t get any choice in the matter, sadly for them. When an NP starts obeying the “other side” then the writing’s on the wall that the regime change has succeeded.

They aren’t considered fully human and so don’t have the same rights and privileges we do. I’d imagine there’s been many high profile court cases about stuff like this in the modern era. Just what an NP can be ordered to do by their bosses before it becomes abusive, how culpable they are for crimes committed by their nations, etc. “The Nation of [x] vs. Nation-Person [y] in the case of Historical Crime(s) [z].” I don’t think much would have been accomplished over the years, lol. No country is going to let their NP go to a foreign prison. Plus the NPs always have the “magically compelled” defense to fall back on. So no progress, just lots of debate. NPs are considered somewhere between guardian deities, ordinary people, and “things” in the broader public consciousness.

Yes, they have social media. No, it has not always gone well. I bet after a few instant-major-historical-event cases of careless and/or hot-tempered NPs calling their bosses assholes on twitter, NP accounts were mass nuked. They were reinstated only after their bosses gave them loooong lists of subjects they weren’t allowed to talk about. Afterwards their posts were all fluff about hobbies and personal interests. Doesn’t stop foreign governments, economists, gossip channels, NP enthusiasts, and curious people combing through every tweet, post, and video to try and guess what the NPs are “really” talking about. So many conspiracy theorist channels, oh god. Even thinking about it is making me tired. 😂

NPs have two homes: a work address and a personal one. The former is usually located in their capital and is either where their boss lives or close by. So Alfred has a home at the White House, Arthur has one on Downing Street, etc. However most NPs don’t consider these their real homes and only spend time there while doing government work. Ordinary, if nice, houses and apartments out among their people is where they like to live. These can decorate them to match their personalities the way they can’t official residences. They use their power over the land to make sure no humans can find these sanctuaries unless the NP wants them to. Stops NPs being swarmed by paparazzi, tourists, and fans 24/7.

De-anoning to say it was me that sent @forsoobado137 the money ask. So just repeating what I said there. All countries put their NP’s face on their money. Along with the state’s name, the NP’s human name, and a picture of the actual land they represent. The money can have other famous people on it too, just on the other side. Governments have been doing this since money was invented and some of the only surviving visual records of ancient NPs are pictures on coins.

Any human being knows an NP and the country they represent just by sight. Unless it’s somewhere they’ve never heard of. Then all they know is that they’re looking at a nation-person. I imagine it would be considered a huge faux-pas to let it slip you don’t know an NP’s country name. Like telling a Holywood A-lister you don’t know who they are at a red carpet event. 😭

NPs have many default jobs, mostly related to their governments. One of them is being in their nation’s armed forces. They’ve always done this ever since the first age of empires. They even led armies and were seen as good luck charms in the past. Soldiers tend to make up the bulk of the humans the NPs remember most fondly. The relationship between Francis and Joan of Arc is one of the best known historical examples. Whether an NP actually enjoys their time in the military depends on their personality. Which is in turn influenced by how warlike the actual country is and has been. If your NP falls in battle, it’s one of the worst war omens possible.

Speaking of death, I headcanon that NPs can die from illness or injury. Or at least their human bodies can. They’re tougher than we are, but not unkillable. They’ll come back so long as the nation itself survives. True death for an NP is reserved for when the civilisation they represent stops existing. If an NP dies in a foreign country, they’ll crumble to dust and regenerate somewhere deep in their heartlands. The place they were originally “born” from the earth. Only a select few very high up in government know the location of their NP’s birth/rebirth place. This also happens if they die on home soil and their body is destroyed. If they die at home and their body is okay, they’ll heal and wake up after a few hours. If the country isn’t doing well it takes longer for its NP to come back.

Speaking of countries not doing well: NPs get sick either when their economies go bad, or when there’s an epidemic among their citizens. A lot of European NPs can chalk some of their early deaths up to the Black Death. When an NP get “depressed” it’s code for a financial fever. Nothing can be done but keep them comfortable until the economy picks up.

Hetalia is so fun to post about, my god. Such a prime series for theories and headcanons. You feel me, gamers?

[sadbenedict]

nuked a previous comment bc i realized i misremembered the timeline sorry

Loving your basement Suguru AU. Poor guy finally gets some company! Does he hang out and watch movies with Yuji while he's in isolation training with the cursed teddybear? They probably have some shared gripes about Satoru's... eccentric character.

Thank you!!

I'm imagine it XD

Suguru: So you're "dead" to everyone too?

Yuji: Yeah… What does you mean "too"??

and then Suguru explains to him why he's here XD and of course they're gossiping about Satoru

[valas-illyn]

Presently fascinated by the idea of a HDG AU where the compact discovers earth/humanity in 1952

Mostly just because of the politics. Tbh

From the perspective of the commoners of the various communist countries, the affini compact is the ideal communist society promising to bring about Marx's dream in an instant. No more permanent revolution, no more cold war. And in places where the dream is dying because the system simply isn't good enough to cope, they're giving you everything you and your community have strived for but fallen short of.

But to Stalin and Mao. This is the worst possible thing that could have happened. With the affini as allies they can finally win the war, but only by willingly giving up their grasp on power and control. It's the ultimate test of their ideals, and if they refuse, there's a very real chance they'll be lynched.

Meanwhile the capitalist societies are shitting themselves, here's an enemy they can't possibly defeat or defend against, one that proves categorically that communism can function and will bring happiness, exactly as promised, if only they'd let it. The only possible options are to give in or let the nukes fly. Death or surrender.

Which matters more, proving yourself right? Or doing right by your people?

Power or principles?

ETA: and look at it from the Affini's perspective. A planet full of sophonts tearing themselves apart, on the brink of annihilation. You reveal yourself and suddenly there's millions of willing florets literally begging to be rescued! So much so that within days there's half a dozen violent revolutions executing their tinpot dictators and turning over whole nations at a time to you.

These little florets, these communists, who've been trying so so hard to do it by themselves and stumbling at every step, but they just can't quite manage it.

But while half the planet are practically throwing themselves at you, desperate for love and care, the other half, Not even feral, but truly wild, are so violently afraid that they're willing to burn themselves and everyone else with nuclear fire just to get away from you.

It's a delicate situation that requires careful handling. One little human who gets a spook could kill their entire race in a couple of minutes.

[casual-praxis]

Rivers in the Desert [Rainbow Ranch AU]

Summary: Panicking is not an option, but man--Shadow kinda wishes it was. With only a vague location, a distress signal, and the dawning realization that time is waning; what do you even do when the resident desert expert goes missing in said desert?

Warnings: Swearing (thanks Blue), blood and injury (though not to a graphic extent), and depictions of what may be a panic attack. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 4,301

--Start--

Today is the day, he's sure of it. Chat may be doubting him, but he's never felt more confident as he dances around the edges of the corrals, swinging his phone around precariously on a makeshift selfie stick.

The sound of mini-small-scale nukes, out-of-tune music boxes, and unbridled cheer is quick to bombard his microphone, but a quick adjustment of his audio puts an end to the horrid peaking issues. Or at least, he thinks it does. He really can't tell.

Oh well. It's probably fine.

"Alright y'all, listen up!" Shadow grins into the camera, holding it steady as his eyes subtly dart over his other equipment. "Today we're goin' hikin' through the Moss Blanket. There's a Gordo there who owes me money and it's had it too good for too long. So I'm gonna go poke it with a stick and see what it do."

Behind him, a pair of Red's Boom Rad Slimes leap with delight over his theatrics, despite not knowing what 'owing money' meant. He quickly covers his ear closest to the corral as the slimes, true to their nature, promptly explode.

Chat reacts accordingly, and he watches the small monitor on his wrist flood ten times over with multicolored words of all varieties. Some were encouraging, some near deaf, and some were thirsting over Blue, but that was neither here nor there. Par for the course, honestly.

He shakes it off easily.

That is, until his monitor beeps a cheerful, "da-da-da-daaaa" and promptly spits out a lovingly rude message about his navigation skills in its smug robotic voice.

Jostling the stick around for a new angle, nearly whacking it into the side of a corral post, he glares into the camera while walking backward.

"Hey now, bitch, I will turn this hike right back 'round if you don't ditch that cringe take," he says flippantly, raising a clawed, glove-bound finger to his viewers. "For serious--I know where you live."

More messages flood in, most of which are buried under waves of emote spamming and text-to-speech chatter, all the while Shadow slowly zooms the camera in on his face. Just to annoy them. No cute slime content for the traitors.

They had to earn that privilege back.

Preferably through donations, and lots of begging.

Maybe he'd even film the ground the whole way just to really drive the point home...

Either way, things were already off to a well-rehearsed start. A few more minutes of banter and they'd be on their way. This was expected. This was normal.

So you can probably forgive him for not immediately noticing when his communicator went off. The vibrating is faint, barely noticeable among the jittery movement he was already prone to. It took him a moment of nearly walking into roaming hen-hens and tripping on stray plorts before it finally registered.

He holds up a hand to the camera as if to say 'just a moment,' before digging around in his hoodie pocket for said source of intrigue. Out comes a phone-sized device most of his chat had never seen before, bright in color and pinging a soft chime.

"Huh. Well, that ain't good," Shadow mumbles, more so to himself than anyone else. His gaze flickers back up, almost nervously, and he laughs a half-hearted excuse. "Sorry y'all, we're gonna have to rain check this."

His chat isn't able to sway him for any further details as he speeds through his usual farewell spiel, hurrying through the motions of shutting down his broadcast and rushing back to the house. His normally relaxed and bouncy gait is swapped out right alongside his stream gear, left at the front door as he leaps down the steps back into the ranch. He can worry about it later.

Green is right where Shadow had last seen him, still standing off to the left side of the ranch, staring at their coop with mild exasperation and a defeated slump to his posture. His ear twitches at Shadow's approach, head tilting ever so slightly in his direction.

"Change of plans?" Green asks.

Shadow skids to a stop, kicking up dirt as he slides, prompting Green to sidestep to avoid it. That gets his full attention. Observant emerald irises pin him immediately, radiating concern (along with trace amounts of actual radiation, but that wasn't important).

"Problem?" Green not so subtly gives him a cursory once over, frowning when it didn't reveal the issue right away. Shadow would have made a joke about it, but now really wasn't the time.

Lifting his communicator up, he waves it obnoxiously--as if Green needed any prompting. "Distress ping from Vio."

Green's posture changes at that.

"Any details?" He asks, keeping his jaw set; standing a little straighter.

"Nah." Shadow turns the communicator back to himself, staring at it almost forlornly. "Just the ping."

Green's hand finds Shadow's shoulder, startling him from his worries before they could spiral. His eyes reflect back the same concern, but a small, reassuring smile is beginning to work its way onto Green's face, and he squeezes lightly.

"No worries, Vio knows how to handle himself." Green's eyes flicker off to one side briefly, and he raises his unoccupied hand to make the nearly universal 'come here' gesture, before returning his attention to Shadow. "We know his location, and our Firefly should be somewhere around the Ancient Ruins right about now. I'll shoot him a message and get him moving in that direction, kay?"

Shadow can only nod as another arm winds around his shoulders from behind, pulling him back against a much firmer chest. Green huffs out a laugh as Blue rests his chin against the top of Shadow's head, paying no mind to Shadow's near squawk of outrage and futile struggle.

"Sup?" Blue raises an eyebrow, tightening his grip on Shadow even as he begins trying to gnaw his arm. He covers Shadow's mouth with his free hand and a hissed, "fuckin' stop that."

Green lifts a finger as he pulls out his communicator, leaving Blue in the dark a little longer. The sound of flurried typing echoes over the bawks of the hen-hens, and Blue sticks his own fingers into Shadow's mouth in response to having his hand licked.

"We have--don't gag him--a situation," Green finally illuminates, clipping the device back to his belt.

"Good situation, bad situation? Blue asks, finally relinquishing Shadow's freedom to wipe the spit off his fingers.

Green's expression does something complicated. "A not good one."

"VeVe S.O.S'd," Shadow coughs.

"Seriously?"

"Red's en route, I'm going to meet him at our Desert teleporter. We should be able to find Vio within the hour, assuming he stayed within his intended radius." Green nods to himself, starting off towards the lab.

"And if he didn't?" Blue calls after. Shadow looks at him sharply.

Green pauses in his stride, inclining his head up in thought, before continuing at a slower pace. "In that case, it may take a little longer."

"Even with Red's help?" Shadow questions.

"He doesn't know the Desert like V does," Blue points out, moving to follow Green. "He told me he's been there like, maybe three times total. And one of those times he just sucked faces with V instead of exploring."

Shadow titters, jogging to catch up. The other's longer legs made for an unfair advantage, but the hurried march made sense. Blue glances between the pile of tech in front of the house and Shadow as they go by, but keeps his mouth shut and allows it to pass without comment.

By the time they make it to Vio's lab, Shadow's nerves are starting to fray once more. The yellow teleporter ("It's butterscotch!" Red would insist), loomed just outside the open doors to the building, allowing the fluorescent lighting to spill out onto the dry ground. It looks oddly empty, without their resident scientist mulling around inside.

Something about that thought made Shadow's insides twist.

"Are you guys coming too?" Green asks, a bit redundantly, given he already knew the answer. Shadow nods without hesitation, stepping up alongside him to face the teleporter.

"I need to grab something first." Blue doesn't wait for any responses. Ducking into the lab, shuffling boxes and metal dragging on metal faintly fills the otherwise still air.

Once he reemerges, Shadow briefly catches sight of something small being slipped into Blue's belt pouch, but he's quickly distracted again by Green stepping onto the teleporter. In a flash of brilliant gold, Green disappears, and Shadow isn't slow to follow.

The sun immediately begins to glare down on him from the other side, and he yelps, ducking behind Green in a fruitless attempt at shelter. Green chuckles despite the situation, and wordlessly readjusts to properly shield Shadow from the worst of the rays.

Blue appears shortly thereafter, raising one hand to block the light from his vision as he looks out across the shifting sand. He gives it a good once over, before dropping his hand and turning to Green. "The fuck are we?"

"North of the Warp Station, silly!" The three jostle slightly, turning just in time to see Red come bounding across the uneven terrain like it was nothing. His shoes barely even seem to sink in the sand as he draws closer, hopping onto a fallen pillar of some sort before kicking off with his hands outstretched in Green's direction.

To his credit, Green didn't stumble as he caught Red in his arms, spinning them both with the momentum as Red's infectious laughter began to spread. He places Red down--only for him to dart over to Blue, hugging him tightly and nuzzling his shoulder.

Shadow blinks, and Red materializes in front of him next, lacing their fingers together as he leans forward to peck him on the lips. It was chaste, barely enough to even feel, but the warmth behind it was enough to chase away the twisting anxiety that had wedged itself between his ribs, if only for a moment.

He tugs Red back to him as he tries to slip away, pressing their lips more firmly together and smothering Red's laughter between them. It's hardly enough; the warmth much too addicting, but he knows better than to push for any more.

Green's amused ahem backs up that decision.

Shadow pulls away, noting with smug satisfaction that Red tries to follow. And that smug energy only shifts to humor once Blue snags Red around the waist, dragging him into their own barely contained kiss. Making eye contact with Green, Shadow smirks playfully, and Green can only sigh.

"If we're all done making out with Red now," Green starts, clapping his hands to get their attention, "we do kinda have a reason for being out here if you'll recall."

Red pushes at Blue's shoulders, leaning backward in his arms to stare at Green from upside down. "I don't recall, actually. What're we doin' again?

"You didn't fill him in?" Blue intoned, letting go of Red completely and dropping him into the sand. Shadow only felt a little bad snickering at Red's exaggerated 'oof'.

"Hey, I didn't exactly have time to explain in detail," Green defends, though he does concede to Blue's glare, lowering his head slightly. "I figured I could explain as we go. It'll be faster that way."

Red jumps to his feet, brushing the sand from the folds of his pants with a tilt of his head. "If that's the case, then let's go! Where to?"

"West of the center point. Know where that is?"

Red hums, bounding past Green and towards an arch in the landscape's natural mountains. He stops before he gets too far, turning back to stare at them expectantly.

"If we're just heading in a direction, then I can probably lead us," Red explains, "but landmarks are finicky. I don't think anythin' actually has a name out here. Vi said no to all my suggestions."

"Right, well that's better than nothing." Green shares a look between Blue and Shadow, stepping forward and nearly stumbling as his boot takes on sand. "Let's--ah, talk while we walk. We still don't have a full scope of the situation, but we're hoping..."

Shadow stares after them as they begin to drift away, bumping shoulders with Blue as he moves past. It's clear from the proximity that Blue intends to stay close, likely as a preventative measure to keep him from wandering off. And he can appreciate that. After all, the last thing they need right now is two missing people.

He hopes Green has finished explaining by the time they catch up. Shadow's own anxiety about the situation had reached a tolerable simmer thanks to Red's bubbly aura, but he wasn't sure what would happen should that aura pop.

Thankfully, Red was the kind of guy to take everything in stride.

Everything would be fine.

They'd explain things to Red, he'd lead them to Vio, and Vio would be fine. Maybe it was just a misclick. Maybe they'd find him wandering about and he'd have no idea they were even concerned in the first place.

Vio would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

----

Everything was not fine.

Everything was so not fine.

They'd reached the area Vio was meant to be in without issue. Fairly straightforward. They had a vague idea of what to be looking out for, and the landmark was indeed very obvious, and just as Vio had described to Red the night before.

The actual problem was Vio not being there.

Sure, there were signs all around the isolated plateau that Vio had been up to something nearby. But none of it pointed to where he had gone, and to make matters infinitely worse, they had a brand new issue to contend with.

Apparently, the Glass Desert was named that for a very specific reason—one that, according to Red, was fast approaching and signaled by the dramatic uptick in heat.

So, yeah. By this point Shadow could safely say he hasn't been so stressed in literal years.

The plateau and its immediate surroundings were busts. Branching off was their only option, and that's how they found themselves in the stupid situation they are now: racing through unfamiliar territory in a frantic search for their missing link.

A lot of it's a blur.

Blue may have stayed back to check the sea (and Goddesses, he hopes Vio hadn't drowned), while Green had gone...somewhere else. And Red, well.

The speeds at which Red moves are difficult enough to keep up with even on more stable terrain, but with Shadow's shoes constantly sinking and sliding in the loose grains, he has no hope of keeping up.

He can only fall further and further behind as the impending fallout ticks closer and closer.

Firestorms were no joke.

Even the slimes, fearless as they may be in their element, tended to cower at the might of a solar anomaly, hiding away in crumbling ruins and under towering crystalline structures; existing testaments to the sheer intensity of the Desert.

And Vio was out here somewhere.

Lost, despite claiming this as his element.

Shadow couldn't help but wonder what had gone wrong. Did he really misclick after all? Had a slime caught him unaware?

...was he safe?

Shadow's foot caught in the sand, sending him tumbling to the rough ground below as if to spite him. Hot tears jostle to the corners of his eyes, barely comparable to the arid heat wafting around him, and he balls his fists into the grains with a frustrated growl.

He pushes himself to his knees, scrubbing at his face with his jacket sleeves. Goddesses, he hates crying. He was going to kill Vio himself for worrying him so bad. The stupid...smart bastard better still be alive for him to follow through on that delirious vow, or so help him...

Climbing to his feet, Shadow made it another few steps forward before a shrill scream tore through his very core like lightning. Distressed, unintelligible; less a coherent word, never mind a name, but Shadow knew it all the same.

It carried on the wind, reverberating in his skull. He was moving before he even had time to fully process it. The high cliff walls around him blurred together as he stumbled through a winding, weathered path, fighting the drag of his own weight through the unforgiving sands.

When the sheer cliff faces began to subside, pulling away to let him breathe, he was met with a sharp drop down into a clearing. His heart was hammering in his chest as he wobbled forward, vertigo kicking in hard as he'd already pieced together what likely lay below.

Red's stuttering sobs bounced off the rocks, piercing through Shadow like jagged glass, tearing at his fragile composure. He staggers, dropping to his knees at the edge of the drop, unable to keep his balance.

He peers forward over the side.

He stops breathing.

There, splattered along the side of the dry rock, popping against the craggy orange stone...dotting Red's hands...as he cradles Vio's still form to himself.

Blood.

So much.

He couldn't breathe.

...was Vio breathing?

Numb, almost unresponsive fingers move to his communicator, unhelpfully mashing down the distress button over and over, and over, and over...

Where were the others? Red was crying, couldn't they hear him? They need help.

They need help. They need help.

Vio needs help.

"S--!"

Help.

"--dow!"

Help.

"Sh-dow!"

Help, someone-!

"Shadow!"

Fingers dig into his shoulder, tearing his gaze away from the scene and hiding his vision away in the crook of someone's neck. His breathing was ragged, choppy. So loud in his own ears. What...

"It's okay." Green's voice. Shaky, wet. "It's okay."

A hand found it's way into his hair, carding through it with unwavering care. Green. Green was here.

"Is-" Shadow's voice shook. "...Vio..."

Green lowers his chin onto Shadow's head, resting it on his hand for a moment. And for once, Shadow can't find it in himself to hate it.

"He's...okay," Green murmurs. "He'll be okay."

...okay.

"We need to go."

He doesn't wait for a reply. Shadow closes his eyes tightly against the harsh, red light of the Desert around them, burying his face further into Green's neck as he's lifted. The world shifts, the sound of a jetpack goes off, and Shadow's just lucid enough to wonder if Green had his vacpack this whole time.

The feeling of burning hot heat lasts for only a few minutes more, before the drone of a teleporter hums loudly in his ear, and his consciousnesss fades.

----

He should be dead right now.

Vio is aware enough to admit that.

Miscalculations are common enough in his particular field of study to be expected. Accidents happen, no matter how experienced you are, so it wasn't too surprising.

He knew the moment his foot missed the ledge and gravity took over that he was dead. The fall was survivable, sure, but all those collisions he had with the cliff-side on the way down? Astronomically less so. He was dead. So, so so dead.

The others were going to find his half-charred, slime-eaten body at the bottom of some random cliff and conclude he was actually a fucking dumbass. Goddesses, he hopes they skip the mourning process and just chuck his body into the sea.

At least then he'd still be attributing to science. He's still morbidly curious after all; do corpses float in the slime sea?

Questions for another time, he supposes. The fact he could even think at all was pointing toward a conclusion much more curious all its own.

He's still alive.

He really shouldn't be, and yet...hm.

His body feels numb. Moving is proving to be difficult, but that's never stopped him before and won't stop him now. Scrunching up his face, he forces his eyelids open with some effort, wincing at the glaringly familiar white ceiling above him. The blurriness slowly recedes as he blinks back to steady consciousness.

More and more of his surroundings come into focus. A soft weight on his left side, shifting gently out of sync with him; another person. Then, a different, more noticeable weight against the right side of his body, blowing light, warm air onto his neck; no doubt, yet another person.

His eyes slip closed again as he allows himself to just breathe.

Breathe.

He really should not be able to do that right now. Or ever again, actually. Not that he's complaining. Though it probably sounds as if he is. Still fairly curious about the slime sea, after all...

But no, he's...hm. Having trouble thinking.

"You done defragging yet, Windows Vista?"

Oh, he knows that voice.

"...luuue..." he slurs, tilting his head towards the source.

There's an irritated clicking noise, before a chair squeaks, and one of Vio's eyes is pried open. He instinctively squints against the feeling, a whole three seconds late.

"Fucking hell...you are concussed, damn it." Blue's blurry face twists into a scowl before he leans away again, momentarily revealing Shadow as the person lying on his right side, and then he's dropped back into darkness.

"Mmm n-n-naah," Vio glitches.

Blue scoffs again. "Mhm, yeah, no. Try again when you can say actual words."

"Sh--hn tr..ee," Vio tries again.

"That one didn't even make sense."

Dull pain blooms behind Vio's eyelids, and he whines low in his throat.

Hurts. It hurts. His muscles are fighting him, he can't lift his arms. He needs...he needs to...hm...?

"...we're gonna need to talk about this."

Pain--

Painpainpain--!

Vio's eyes shoot open, and he gasps, instinctively clenching his jaw as the pressure around his wrist registers. Shortly after, Blue's face comes into view, twisted into a grimace. He has one hand wrapped loosely over the deep purple bruise of skin Vio calls his right wrist, the other keeping him propped up over the side of the bed.

"Fuck," Vio mumbles, forcing his body to relax. It's the first coherent thing he's said in days, and Blue's not exactly happy about that. "Let go."

Blue doesn't have to be told twice.

"You aren't phasing anymore."

"So it would seem." Vio shuts his eyes once more. "Are the others asleep?"

"Have been for a few hours now." Blue leans back, causing the mattress to spring slightly once his weight is off it. "Green's out working through his stress, the idiot. These two just don't wanna leave you be."

Ah, so the other person is Red. That makes sense.

"Sorry," Vio says automatically, "I didn't mean to worry everyone."

Blue emanates the aura of someone rolling their eyes, and it's a little impressive he's able to communicate that so well to someone with their own eyes closed.

"Shut the fuck up. You have a lot more to apologize for than just that."

Vio reopens his eyes to level a blank stare at Blue.

"Don't look at me like that."

Vio squints.

"Or like that!"

A soft chuckle escapes Vio, only to be immediately chased down by a wince as his ribs protest loudly. He curses his low pain tolerance silently in his head as Blue sighs.

"You're injured, dumbass. Fell off a damn cliff apparently." Huh. That does sound familiar. "You really scared the hell out of these two when they found you."

Ah. No wonder they were clinging.

"Green's coming up with a whole lecture on group safety as we speak. No more Desert trips alone."

Vio raises an eyebrow at that. Or at least attempts to. "There's no way he can enforce that."

"Yeah, well, he won't be the only one." Blue crosses his arms and nods towards the two cuddled up to Vio's sides. "Good luck going anywhere without at least one attached to you."

Fair point. It wouldn't be the first time he's had them nipping at his heels wherever he went, though it has been a few years. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. He didn't remember minding it back then.

Then again, his research efforts might drop dramatically in productivity. Both could be distracting on their own, but together? He'd never get anything done.

He's lured from that particular conundrum as Blue abruptly stands, stretching his arms over his head with a groan. Vio would probably appreciate the sight more if he weren't concussed and struggling with complex thoughts.

"M'kay, well, I'm gonna go let Green know you're kinda lucid right now. Don't think you're getting out of that conversation later." Blue does a few more stretches to fully wake up his joints (just how long had he been sitting there?) before heading over to the door. Oh, this is his room; no wonder the ceiling looks familiar.

Blue pauses in the doorway, seeming to think something over, then turns back with a smug grin and a flippant wave. "Oh, and by the way, one of your teleporters is in the middle of fuckin' nowhere now. Sorry not sorry."

"Wait, what--?"

Blue cackles to himself as he leaves, completely aware of how Vio's attempt to sit up was barred by Shadow and Red 'conveniently' choosing that moment to wake up and tighten their holds on him.

And it was about at that point, where he was being smothered by his two more affectionate boyfriends, that Vio decided, yeah, actually, slime sea theory can wait a few more years.

Or ten.

Maybe thirty.

That conversation could be a future non-concussed Vio's problem, too.

This is nice.

He should fall off cliffs more often.

Or maybe not. He really should be dead right now.

He wonders how many realities in which he did die there. He wonders which reality is he. Is there a true Vio out there? What quantifies as a "Vio", anyway.

...he wonders where they put his bracelet.

He's starting to slip again.

--End--

Please feel free to tell me what y'all thought! I haven't written anything to completion in years so I'm still a bit rusty.

I intended to address Vio's bracelet more, and there was a whole extra plot thread I ended up cutting, but hopefully I'll get to those some other time. This was getting a bit long and I didn't want to lose motivation before I finished it. I'm placing this in dubiously au canon for now. We'll see if it still fits in as I expand the au.

Thanks so much for reading this far! Hopefully y'all liked it!

Here’s a bonus: the in-game map with some of my notes on it. In blue, the area where Vio was supposed to be. In purple, the area they actually found him.

I like to think in this AU, one of the others put that cartoony danger sign next to the cliff.

As requested: @zeldathusiast

It’s done! :D