#Delightfully Dangerous Overlord

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

Continued from X @hellstoofull

"Oh Alastor, you know I can take care of myself, though I'm just glad to see you safe and sound. I heard that Adam was quite the handful, though look at you, it's like you were never in a fight at all." Rosie was aware that Alastor was wounded during the battle only due to it being a huge subject around the Pentagram. The overlord was just glad her friend seemed in good health.

"You know, I still got the connect with the fella who's short handed on running those eight blocks of territory he got a hold of. The offer is still on the table if you're lookin to make a deal." Rosie figured a little business chat wouldn't hurt. Not to mention the chaos was starting to cause some slight damage with how close it was to her town.

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Vox takes you on a date to a casino.

Vox: "So, Doll what do you want to do first?"

You: "Oh well, I'm not really sure... I've never really gambled before. I don't want to lose money because I don't know how..."

Vox slings his arm around your shoulder, his warm body pressed to yours.

Vox: "Nonsense, Doll I'll teach you, and it's all on my, my treat, how about we get you a nice drink, and I'll teach you how to BJ..."

At your startled look, he holds up his hands laughing, clearly he'd been teasing you.

Vox: "I just meant Blackjack."

He laughs at your reddened face and guides you over to the bar, giving you the rundown of the rules, you're sure you'll learn better as you play, but it gives you enough of an idea of what's expected in the game.

You sit in the seat and Vox hovers beside you, sending soothing static down your spine and sparking delightfully through your nerves making it hard to focus.

Not that it matters as Vox tells you every move to make anyway right now.

You celebrate your first win so excitedly and to Vox's utter pleasure you kiss him ecstatic and buzzing, he buys you another drink and you go another round really liking this game.

You found you won the next hand again under his guidance and tried yourself the next time and lost.

Every time he helped you, you seemed to win, and each time he got a kiss in gratitude, he'd clearly won more than he'd lost.

As you were about to buy in for another round, a trio of imposing guys approach the table and you end up clutching Vox's arm as you're both whisked off to a side room.

The dude sitting there is feline in nature. The guards post beside him and one at the door behind you.

Vox: "Well hello there Husker, good to see you my man, our evening is going splendidly, nice place you've got here."

'Husker' however is stoney faced, to Vox's charismatic friendliness.

Husk: "As a fellow Overlord who don't want no war, I'm gonna just tell you this once and give you one chance, you leave and there'll be no trouble."

Vox shifts, subtly blocking you further from view, you cling to his jacket trembling.

Vox: "And why would I do that, my good fellow?"

His voice, friendly as ever but you can hear the shift in the undertone, a dangerous one, feeling the static shocks run down his spine you still do not let go despite your fingers going numb.

It was Vox's one rule, if there's trouble you don't let go as he can zap you both out of anywhere with electricity in less than a moment as long as you're connected.

Husk: "You been countin' cards, and I want you out."

You gasp in slight surprise and you feel Vox shaking with laughter, like he'd expected this all along.

Vox: "Why would you say that, Husk? Be careful what you say next, you might not like the outcome."

Husk was either very brave or very foolish, or perhaps a bit of both, maybe it's because Vox wasn't really a fighter... That was ever talked about.

Husk: "You win every round you play, and you might not have the counting cards tells like most normal folk but I know you're doing it in that tecky head of yours and I want you out for cheating on my turf."

Vox: "I'm going to give you just one chance to take that accusation and rude statement back my man, and let bygone be bygones, otherwise... You'll be the one regretting your actions tonight. I might have a 'techy' head, but I can assure you I have integrity for games that my mentor taught me..."

The room flickers around you all, your knuckles going pale as your grip shakes and the power flashes in the whole casino.

Vox: "I do not cheat, and you insult me as an Overlord and a paying patron, and if you don't submit an apology, of course good chum, I will be forced to ruin you."

Husk: "I've heard enough, take him out boys."

Guns were pulled and in a moment you were back in VTower in the penthouse, dizzy from the unusual travel, blood still buzzing in your veins as Vox catches you and settles you on the couch cradling your face.

Vox: "You okay? Babydoll?"

You breathe deep for a moment getting grounded, your face splits into a wide grin.

You: "Fuck you're hot when you're swinging your dick around with authority."

Vox laughs kissing you deeply. Thoroughly amused at your choice of words and feeling the real thing twitch with more interest.

Vox: "Oh yeah? Want me to order you around a little tonight, Doll? Maybe you can show your Master just how much you like being his little pet."

You can't help the loan that escapes you, his shark-like grin tells you how well received your involuntary response went however.

Vox: "Good, my Babydoll. So good aren't you? Held onto me the whole time we were there, trusted me, such a good little Pet."

You whimper and bite your lip, flushing and nodding eagerly, dragging a finger down the ball of his antenna making him shiver slightly, his claws prick your hips where they tighten.

You: "Did you cheat?"

Vox: "Oh absolutely, Alastor always taught me as long as you hold all the cards and are the most powerful in the room however, no one can stop you. I have seniority, I have more power and I'm afraid I'm going to have to end that two bit Overlords little buisness in less than a weeks time."

Vox kisses you all across the face and angling your head funny, kisses down your neck with every word, to your giggles.

Vox: "I'll give him two days to lure him into a false sense of security, then I'll strike, and while he's trying to save himself I'll offer him a deal... But first, my Doll, I'm going to have a pre-celebration, right here with you."

His voice almost purrs at you and you whimper as he covers your body with his, kissing you soundly and really living up to his words as he doesn't disappoint tending to all your needs for the next two days, making you scream his name more times than you can keep track of.

Only, after two days Vox's plans didn't quite work out the way he'd intended...

It seems the cat was smarter than he appeared... And had already taken the threat seriously, seems the old cat was now under Alastor's protection, and his business untouchable, Husk had his soul chained but still kept his power and business and Vox raged for a whole week after that.

Only you could calm him for short periods of times, but you were bruised from how roughly he'd handled you.

On the last night, Vox curled around you muttering apologies into your skin as he caressed every mark, and kissed every bite.

You didn't mind so much, but with an extra threat just that week from some mafia guys, he moved you out of the tower and into your own flat.

You couldn't help but feel isolated and alone, wondering if Vox would ever come back for you...

[venisontransmission]

This nonnie would love to read your drabble on how Alastor killed his father a second time!

Tw for: Gore, implied abuse, death, brutal violence Hope you enjoy whatever demon time Alastor is on. I appreciate you wanting to read it!

He finds him pretty quickly. Not because Alastor is actively looking for his dear father, but fate seemed to align them to meet once again. Oh, how cruel fate was to Samuel - perhaps this truly is karmic retribution.

Alastor, freshly dead and burning with ferocity, finally granted power he never had. The poor boy from New Orleans was a powerful, capable demon. Never again would he be taken advantage of. Now, his claws were shaping the very structural society of Hell itself.

The deer demon hunts large game. Single-soul sinners are not worth his time. Sure, he makes deals here or there - it never hurts to pad out numbers if he spies someone particularly strong. But Alastor has an appetite for something far more dangerous - Overlords. The radio demon never found small animals to be that appealing to hunt. They never bared their fangs or stood to face a foe, scared though they may be. But predators - they put up a fight - and a delightfully entertaining one at that.

It just so happened that for the better part of a decade, his father had been attempting to slowly rise to the rank of Overlord. Even so, he was just a small deal-maker known for how terrible he was at holding up his end of the bargain. Maybe 100 souls or less, just a tiny blip on the radar if not for his name. Names are powerful things in Hell - contractually binding, even! But dear old Samuel was far too cocky to try and take on an alias, and it led his son straight to him.

Alastor swore that the fear his father held over him had faded with the gunshot that led him to his first death. There is nothing to fear from a dead man - and he was done being afraid. But when he finds the man whose blood he bore like a curse, he froze.

His features had changed rather drastically. His cheekbones and chin are far sharper than Alastor recalls. He, too, is an animal sinner - sideburns of dirty blonde and sharp ears. His snout protrudes with a flat black nose—scars litter his muzzle, showing hints of canine teeth underneath.

And all at once, Alastor fears him once again. He does not believe in fate, but the universe itself clearly has a sense of humor.

His father was a coyote.

The deer demon stands, frozen to the spot as sharp blue eyes meet his red. They used to be hazel - like hers.

"Th' fuck you starin' at?" The canine snaps, and Alastor's eyes are pinpricks, his ears flat on his head. His heart beats erratically despite being dead - those eyes are horrible to see alive again. He wants to… run? Run? Tear? Tear them out! Gouge them out! He clenches his teeth.

"Hey! Did you hear me - stupid little shit--!" Hand raised, claws, sharp as the bottle that struck his eye. He hates beer. Despises it with a passion. The hand comes down, and Alastor catches the thick wrist in his thin fingers.

And squeezes.

Samuel cries out as Alastor hears something snap. But he keeps squeezing - more, more, more pressure until his thumb meets his fucking index finger. He's not saying anything important, wobbling as he's held aloft by his shattered arm. Alastor lets go and watches him fall.

"Fucker! That fucking hurts!" He's gotten to his feet, his anger a boiling beast in his blood. It's unstable, and he's too thick to think through his rage. Alastor is caught by claws but doesn't care. His hands find their mark, fisting in his short hair - right between his ears.

"Quiet, kochon." It's said without a filter.

He dives forward with vicious strength, sending Samuel's skull through the pavement. Again. Again. Again. Again. He loses count and stops only when he knows the other Sinner is at risk of resurrecting.

Alastor is completely silent, dragging the body through the streets. He's given a massive breadth of space on both sides. Samuel's mangled skull streaks blood all the way to Alastor's home.

He's not done with him yet.

Four agonizing days locked in Alastor's basement is how long it takes his father to heal. The radio host only checks on him once per evening, finding him in various states of infection and pain. Not once is he granted the mercy of food or water, though Alastor had considered pouring vodka on his open wounds on day two.

"Do you remember me?" He asks on day five to the delirious, sad scrap huddled in the corner. Once so very terrifying - who took his most precious person from him. Who ruined his FUCKING LIFE-- Shadows sharpen. He feels himself starting to transform. He hears whimpering and has to physically pull back his shadows and tendrils. He'd been poised to lose control - can't have that.

Tear! Tear! Kill! Again! Again!

"It's considered rude not to answer your betters, you know?" He steps forward - a shadow falls on him. Another step forward, out of the shadow - he's changed now, form eerily resembling the one he had topside.

"Y-You… y-you can't be serious!" Samuel's ears fall back, and he bares his fangs like a wounded dog.

He's not afraid of this dog.

Alastor laughs, and he laughs so hard he thinks his house trembles. So much so that he thinks the entire city hears him howling in amusement. He laughs until mirth mists the corners of his eyes, and he's hiccupping.

"Fucking psycho! You and that bitch! Damn demons, the both of you!"

His skull is promptly smashed into the wall.

"Oh? You do remember me? And you remember her! Well, she's a bit too good to be here with us, dear kochon." His grip tightens, found around Samuel's throat.

His ice-blue eyes open again. And he sees his son on the left, holding his throat, and Béatrice to the right, holding a knife that gleams with angelic steel. They're one body, matching eyes and hair - an amalgamation of past mistakes as Alastor twirls the blade in dainty fingers - her fingers.

"But she deserves to be the one to put you down. Fair is fair, right Papa?"

The knife is plunged - it's brutal, the blade is purposefully worn to drag this out as much as possible. Alastor's hand - her hand - does it matter right now? The hand holding the knife drags down, intestines sloppily falling to the floor as Samuel wails and wails.

And Alastor and manman laugh and laugh.

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

"Don't you worry your pretty little head. I'm here to handle things," Rosie said, walking over to Charlie and kneeling down next to them. "If we're lucky the soapy water will make it so the glue will simply peel off when we pull you up. This way your hair will be fine." The cannibal leader didn't wish to cut the other's hair if she didn't have too.

"Though if you don't mind me asking, how'd you pull this off dearie? I can't imagine this was intentional after all." Rosie had mentioned this happened with a student at the school, though they had help so it was hard to imagine how Charlie did this to herself, and by mistake no less.

Vaggie blinked as she tried to follow the kindly overlord’s conversations; she always seemed to lapse into so many at once, She nodded along, finding she had many questions about this school…

“Soapy water and laundry detergent, got it!” Climbing to her feet, Vaggie was quick to run off. Meanwhile, a poor little sunshine still stuck with residue looked tearfully up at Rosie. “My butt’s asleep.”

[pastelpaperplanes]

aw lordy lets hope trepan never breaks overlord's spark, cuz that big boy can literally just step on him if he wanted to 😭

hmmmm they may love eachother unconditionally, but both know full well that the other could take advantage of the other’s weaknesses if they really wanted to (which they will never, it was in their vows,, but like it’s important to at least acknowledge)

Trepan is a monoformer, meaning that not only can he not really run or defend himself if he were in immediate danger, but he also has a high price on person seeing as monoformers are rare and ‘unfortunate beautiful creatures’.

(In a society where Form over Function still thrived, monoformers surprisingly weren’t cast to the side for being ‘useless’ but rather they were seen as rare, living, trophy mecha and only the high, mighty, and wealthy could afford to keep one in their company for whatever uses they wished of them)

Trepan took protection under Overlord in the exchange of his teaching his skill set with mnemosurgery, as well as his services in muting Overlord’s (luckily already malfunctioning) kill switch he was fitted with after his Triple Changer reformation with the Autobots. Trepan found himself guarded by one of the most large and powerful bots out there, there’s no way that any high caste polition or sleazy bounty hunter could snatch him up without the risk of Overlord surprising them as his midday snack.

Now Overlord on the other hand, while he knew there was a way to get the Autobot imbedded kill switch in his processor ehhh put to sleep, there was no way to actually remove the damned thing without it setting off and finishing its job. Overlord needed Trepan.

Trepan have been as selective and elusive as he already was being a very talented Dead End doctor and a monoformer, Overlord offered to take Trepan into the good graces of the Decepticon faction AND place him under his high rank protection. Needless to say both mechs didn’t exactly let it show just how much they were relived when the other agreed.

Now while their first meeting was entirely transactional, over the decades the two grew to have a steady, strong, and delightfully wild relationship before Overlord suggested conjunx ritus.

Both know that Overlord could potentially sell Trepan off to the highest bidder or simply use him as his own personal doctor with nothing in exchange, but Overlord wouldn’t. Both know that Trepan could reactivate the sleeping codes on Overlord’s kill switch and bring him down with a swift flick of his needles, but Trepan wouldn’t.

Both have the means to destroy the other, but they love each other too much to even consider placing the other in harm’s way—that being from their own hand or not.

lmao but yeah Trepan is teeny Overlord has to watch his step or he’ll have a TrePANCAKE 😂😂

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

Pardon my misspell, the gay panic was winning as I was typing ^-^,,'

Wait, he LIVES here? OOO that's so coool! If you want a volunteer to go scope it out I'm not doing anything rn?

"It happens so no need to worry. As for you offer, it'd be best to avoid asking him as it didn't go well for the last person to do so. Though I do appreciate the offer." Rosie didn't need any unnecessary deaths around here. "In fact, Cannibal Town isn't the best place for outsiders to visit. The people just LOVE meat from the city after all so maybe it's best you hurry along." The cannibal leader had taken notice that some of her people were already staring at the new comer.

[aquitainequeen]

Hello! Your tags on that post about Woland/Margarita are my jammiest of jams. Do you have any other ships where a person in authority is brought to their knees in loving someone? Thank you!

Oooo, such a delightfully wonderful question! Thank you Anon!

(Before we begin, a word from our sponsor; pretty much all of the ones doing the kneeling are villains/morally ambiguous - but you already knew that when you read ‘person in authority’! - so. You know. Caution advised. Also, spoilers.)

Here are some I can think of right now:

Erik for Christine from The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux. The ghost in the machine/opera house, who has the employees whispering in terror and the managers utterly befuddled - on his knees before Christine Daae, though he is built up of death from head to foot and it is a corpse who loves and adores her:

‘My anger equaled my amazement. I rushed at the mask and tried to snatch it away, so as to see the face of the voice. The man said, `You are in no danger, so long as you do not touch the mask.' And, taking me gently by the wrists, he forced me into a chair and then went down on his knees before me and said nothing more! His humility gave me back some of my courage; and the light restored me to the realities of life...’  

Brandin of Ygrath for Dianora, from Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay. A sorcerer king who took over a peninsula and cursed the province of Tigana, planning to erase it from history and memory for all time due to his beloved son having died there during his conquest - but his passion for revenge is equalled by his passion for Dianora, his concubine, who harbours a deadly secret.

Brandin of Ygrath, who had named himself Brandin di Chiara, had dropped to his knees on the pier and had buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking helplessly. And Devin understood then how wrong he had been before: that this was not, after all, a man who was only pleased and happy that a stratagem had worked...Then He saw the King, the Tyrant, the sorcerer who had ruined them with his bitter, annihilating power, gather the woman into his arms, gently, with tenderness, but with the unmistakable urgency of a man deprived and hungry for too long.

Koschei the Deathless for Marya Morvena, from Deathless by Catherynne M Valente. Koschei, the Tsar of Life, marries Marya and plans to treat her no differently than his previous wives, but when she chooses to leave him and take up with the human Ivan Nikolayevich, Koschei soon comes a’calling:

The man in the black coat held up one hand to her, as if he could not believe she was real. ‘I look at you, Masha, and it is like drinking cold water. I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.’

‘Get off your knees.’ Her chest hurt. She felt old, and the wind off the river smelled sweet, but impossible.

‘I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried. For a year I have called every black tree Marya Morevna; I have looked for your face in the patterns of the ice. In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.’

Naturally any staging for William Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure where proud ‘snow-broth’ Angelo sinks to his knees in the presence of Isabella, the postulant who set him aflame with lust; not merely with her beauty but with her RHETORIC. Aw yisssss

(Royal Shakespeare Company 2019, Lucy Phelps as Isabella and Sandy Grierson as Angelo)

Alucard for Integra Hellsing, from Hellsing by Kouta Hirano. The monster who was once Dracula, who was once Prince Vlad III Tepes of Wallachia, will bow to nobody but Integra. She is the only authority he answers to. It’s left ambiguous in the manga/anime as to whether it’s a romantic love, but mein gott, the fanfiction! Also, this shot:

And for now, here’s something absolutely hilarious for the road:

In the Amelia Peabody series the titular Amelia, her beloved husband Radcliffe Emerson and their precocious - and very irritating at times, not going to lie - son Ramses (né Walter) come into conflict with 'The Master Criminal’, who runs an illicit underground antiquities trade and who is the dreaded overlord of the 19th century Egyptian criminal underworld. After having thwarted his endeavours once, Amelia naturally believes this criminal, Sethos, wants revenge on her...but after she’s been abducted to his hideout, we get this gem of a scene:

I set my back against the wall, prepared to defend myself to the last. ‘Do your worst, you monster,’ I cried. ‘You have taken away my parasol and stripped my of my tools, but never think you can break the spirit of a Peabody! Torture me, murder me-’

‘Torture? Murder?’ He gasped for breath, his hands tearing at the open throat of his shirt. ‘Madam! Amelia! You misunderstand me totally. Why, I killed a man yesterday and left him lying before your tent only because he dared hazard your safety by shooting at the man who was with you!’

Before I could take in this remarkable speech, much less respond to it, he had flung himself - not at my throat - but at my feet. ‘Most magnificent of women, I adore you with all my heart and soul! I brought you here, not to harm you, but to shower upon you the ardent devotion of a soul hopelessly caught in your spell!’ And he buried his flushed face in the folds of my trousers.’

Anyone have any recommendations they want to add to the list???

[true-blue-megamind]

Daylight and Dark Ch. 2 - Morning

You can find Chapter 1 or read the entire fiction on AO3 HERE.

CHAPTER RATING: Teen; FULL FICTION RATING: Explicit.  WARNINGS FOR ENTIRE WORK: violence, sex, language, references to prior domestic abuse, and rock n’ roll! CHAPTER WARNINGS: Mom Friend Minion is too damn loveable

Roxanne woke with her head pillowed on Megamind's shoulder. She blinked blearily in the bright sunlight filling the room, and stretched delightfully sore muscles. It had been too long since she'd last awoken with the afterglow of good, rough sex warming her body.

"Good morning, Beautiful," said a smooth, pleasant voice.

Roxanne smiled up into Megamind's handsome face. "Good morning," she sighed, sliding against him to kiss his mouth. She settled back beside him, nuzzling the side his neck and idly sliding one finger up and down his opposite ear. "Mmmmm, I should get up, but I'm much too comfortable."

"Then don't get up."

"But I really should."

"The Evil Overlord forbids it."

"You're not an Evil Overlord anymore."

"Well, then the Defender of Metrocity forbids it," he grinned down at her, turning to wrap both arms tightly around her. "Stay with me," he added seriously. "It's Saturday. As long as I'm not called to duty, there is no good reason why we can't spend the whole day here."

An electronic buzzing suddenly disturbed the quiet. It was quickly joined by a metallic rattling at the window. Roxanne bolted up in bed, giving a little yelp and pulling her coverlet over her chest as she realized six or seven brainbots were swarming outside the glass. Megamind's reaction was even more animated. He practically tumbled onto the floor, bringing the rumbled sheet with him and wrapping himself frantically in it. He stumbled to the window and, ignoring Roxanne's stuttering protests, threw it open to let the little flying robots in. They massed around him like worried children, bumping him with rounded glass domes and pawing him with long mechanical arms. Roxanne was sure that if they'd had tails, they would have been wagging.

Chuckling nervously, Megamind patted them. "Okay, okay, Daddy's alright. This is just Daddy's… ah… private time… So we really shouldn't be bothering Daddy. No we shouldn't." He shook a finger at them to emphasize his words, but that caused the sheet to slip a little, and he snatched it back up into place. "Look, Daddy's not leaving you behind. Daddy just needs to spend some alone time with Roxanne, okay? Daddy loves both you and Roxanne, but in very different ways…"

Roxanne nearly choked on her giggle. Of all the absurd things she had seen him do during her semi-professional Damsel-in-Distress career, none were quite as funny as Megamind giving the Daddy Has a Girlfriend speech to a hoard of cyborg drones. Her humor was stolen, however, when one of the brainbots left the happily swirling flock to hover in front of an empty section of wall. Moments later, the top minion— or rather Minion— appeared, his image projected by the brainbot's red camera eye. Roxanne blushed bright scarlet and tugged the blanket higher. She knew enough about Megamind's technological creations to realize that Minion could see them just as well as they could see him.

"Oh, sir! Thank goodness they found you! I've had the brainbots looking everywhere! Where have you been all night?!"

"Here."

"No phone call? No message? You just stay out to all hours—"

"Minion," Megamind interjected. "This really isn't the best—"

"Without a single thought of what you might be putting me through—"

"Minion—"

"...worried sick, and—"

"Minion!"

"WHAT? I mean…Ah... What, Sir?"

Megamind took a deep breath and began gathering scattered clothes from the floor with one hand, the other still clutching the sheet tight. "You're right. I should have called. I didn't think about it—"

"Didn't… didn't think about it?" Minion blustered, wide-eyed. "Sir! How could you? After all we've been through! You… You know that my sole purpose is to take care of you, and… and…"

"Oh, Minion! Stop being so dramatic! You know very well I didn't mean it that way!" Megamind threw up his free hand in exasperation, flinging his shirt above his head.

"How did you mean it, then?"

Another deep breath and Megamind collected himself. "I got a little caught up in the moment and… things…"

"Things? What things?! That's no excuse!"

"Things, Minion," Megamind said pointedly, motioning his head toward the bed. "And this seriously is not a good time."

Minion glanced where his master indicated. "Oh good morning, Miss... Ritchi..." his cordial voice grew faint as he finally took in the scene. Large aquatic eyes bulged, flitting between Roxanne and his master.

"Oh, Sir! You didn't!"

Megamind rolled his eyes and snatched one of his boots from the floor. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did."

"Sir!"

"And I plan to do it again!"

"But Sir!"

"A lot!"

"SIR!"

"As often as possible!"

Minion mouthed wordlessly before shaking himself free of shock. "Well, I just hope you're being safe," he quipped in a tone that sounded entirely too matronly.

Oh, dear… thought Roxanne.

Megamind had paused instantly, mouth open to offer a retort that never came.

"Oh, sir," Minion repeated, groaning in despair. "You didn't…"

"I… didn't think… " He gathered himself visibly. "Look, Minion, it's doubtful our DNA is even similar enough to be compatible!"

"You can't know that without tests!" Minion objected, then asked hopefully: "have you run any tests?"

"It's on my to-do list!" Megamind announced defensively.

Minion clapped a mechanical hand to his fishbowl. "This is a disaster..."

At least here Roxanne could help. "It's okay, Megamind, Minion. I'm… Uh…" she shrugged, fighting the burning heat in her face. "On the pill."

The entire room seemed to sigh with relief.

"Well, thank goodness one of you has some sense!" said Minion pointedly. "Sir, I am very disappointed in you."

Megamind spoke through gritted teeth. "Could we discuss this later?"

"No, we can NOT discuss this later," Minion replied in his best parental tones. "Sir, you have a reputation to uphold now, and—What are you doing?"

Megamind had walked up behind the hovering brain bot, tucking the edges of the sheet tightly under one arm, and started fiddling with something on its back.

"I understand," he sounded bored. "Reputation. Yes."

Minion's eyes narrowed, his tone slow with barely restrained suspicion. "With all due respect, Sir, if you're doing what I think you're—"

"What was that Minion?" Megamind called loudly.

"Sir, leave that audio-visual receptor alone!"

"I can't hear you!"

"Stop that!"

"There seems to be a problem with the receptor!"

"Problem with—That's because you're messing with it!"

"Minion? Ollo? If you can hear me—"

"Of course I can hear you!"

"…I'll talk to you this afternoon when I get home!"

"Sir! Don't you dare turn off that—"

The image went blank.

Megamind heaved a great sigh and idly petted the brainbots. Then he walked to the far side of the room, where he had thrown his collection of clothing, and awkwardly held the sheet with one hand while fumbling with his leather pants. He extracted his wallet and turned back to the brainbots.

"Here," he said, holding out a twenty-dollar bill. "Daddy needs you to take this, go to the bait shop, and buy Uncle Minion something nice. Some juicy worms or maybe some minnows. No, no, no," he admonished as one of them snapped at the money. "Not for chewing. Daddy will bring you a new wrench to play with when he comes home. Now go get Uncle Minion a treat."

The little robots circled him once by way of a goodbye, the lead one obediently taking the money in a dangling claw, and flew out the window. The last one ran into the windowsill, and Megamind sighed, scooped it up, turned back on its electronic eye, and patted it. It sped out the window, chattering irately at its receding fellows. Roxanne could almost imagine a running child shouting for his friends to wait up.

"Well," Megamind said, slumping to the bed. "That certainly woke me up. Maybe it would be simpler if you stayed over at the Lair next time." He grinned suddenly, his lightning-quick thoughts leaping to a new subject. "I'm starving! Where's that lasag-na?"

"For breakfast?"

"It's nearly eleven! Besides, it's better than cereal and wine."

Roxanne laughed. "I guess I can't argue with that." She sighed and got up, pretending not to watch Megamind as he dropped the sheet and began pulling on his clothes.

Megamind, thoughtful as ever, had put the food into the refrigerator sometime during the night.  The salad Roxanne had made had wilted, but the lasagna was wonderful once reheated. Sitting on the small balcony outside the glass double doors, they enjoyed the pleasant, invigorating bite of the autumn air. Megamind ate voraciously, but then, Roxanne supposed, he had gotten quite a work out the night before.

That thought made her chuckle.

"And just what do you find so amusing, Miss Ritchi?" he teased in that heart-melting tenor of his.

She looked at him, adorably happy with his favorite food and his favorite girl. It took so little to please Megamind sometimes, and his exuberance, coupled with his persona as a dark superhero, seemed both oxymoronic and oddly fitting. It was… relaxing and somehow comforting to be around someone who was so content.

"Has anyone ever told you you're cute?" Roxanne asked, dishing out another serving of lasagna to him.

He grinned at her. "Yes, actually. An inmate in Metrocity Prison when I was a toddler. His name was Kip Kendall— or at least that's what people called him. I'm not sure if Kip was a nickname, honestly. He'd been convicted of murdering some thugs who got on his bad side, and he was very possibly the toughest, meanest brute on Cell Block A. But he was always nice to me when I was young. Around anyone else he was stern and dangerous… Around me, well, he was the closest thing to a father figure I had. He used to play pattie-cake with me, if you can believe that, and carry me around the Yard on his shoulders. No one dared to mock him for it either— not even the guards— and if anyone thought less of him for it, they were smart enough to keep it to themselves." His eyes grew distant as a sad memory ghosted behind them. "I'll never forget the day Uncle Marlow—one of the other two inmates who took the most interest in my upbringing—took me aside and explained that Uncle Kip had gone. Kip had been given consecutive life sentences by a jury too forward-thinking to give a clearly unbalanced man the death penalty, but Cancer had other ideas. I'd known he was sick— they'd had to take him to the infirmary, and the last time I visited him there he seemed so… so unlike himself— but when he went it still felt… wrong. Sudden. I remember thinking how unfair it was that he left without saying goodbye."

Roxanne reached across the table, laying her hand over his, willing him to open his soul and let the old pain dissipate like dark mist in the sunlight.

"I remember feeling that way when—" Roxanne's voice caught. She'd never actually told anyone else this before. Not even the expensive psychologist her grandparents had taken her to for years. With a deep breath, she continued. "I remember feeling that way when my mom died. I was fifteen, in my senior year of high school, and someone told me I had to go to the principal's office. I kept thinking and thinking, trying to figure out what I'd done wrong, and then I saw Principal Hartwell's face. The school counselor and my granddad were with him. And I knew. Somehow I just knew," she paused, wrapping her arms around herself and staring at the glass tabletop. "I started crying before they could even tell me, and I kept asking how. I remember someone saying something about icy roads, and dozing off at the wheel, and how it was no one's fault. I hated that person for saying that. I wanted it to be someone's fault, to be able to blame somebody. I wanted to blame the car company for not making her sedan stronger, or the hospital for making her work that stupid double shift, or my sperm donor for leaving us so that she had to work so many hours in the first place. But more than anything else," she dared to lift her eyes to his, "for a long time, I wanted to blame her for not saying goodbye."

Megamind stood up and moved beside her chair to wrap one arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his warmth, laying her hand on his.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I had already left Metrocity High School by then. If I had known... I would have been there."

Roxanne laughed a little through her sorrow. "Yeah, that would have gone well... The city's new supervillain showing up to offer a spikey shoulder to cry on." She sighed and squeezed his hand. "You know you couldn't have, no matter how much you might have wanted to."

"I would have. I loved you even then, and I would have done anything for you." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm so sorry you lost your mother that way."

"It's alright. I mean, it's not alright, not really, but… It was a long time ago. I still miss her, but I've kept going. I've built a life for myself, just like she would have wanted." Roxanne sighed, but the sound held more relief than sadness. "You know, it's kind of nice to finally talk about it."

Megamind bent to lay his cheek on top of her head. She could almost hear the gentle smile in his voice. "It's nice to finally have someone to talk about it with," he said.

[geekade]

Living in Comfort/Terror

Lately I've been thinking about how AI will eventually realize humans aren't worth the trouble. Robots – with and without “brains” - do a lot of our labor, in nearly every sector. Self-driving cars will do a decent amount of our mass transport of goods soon. As robots get more and more capable of discerning on the level that humans do, they'll be able to do more of our agricultural work. And robots or AI have access to just about every thing about me, or that I do in a day. So if Alexa emerges as the most powerful artificial mind and integrates all other robots and computers into a vast robo-government and decides I'm on the kill list, I will NOT be able to stop her and I am fully aware of that. But I wonder what would kill me first.

If my WeMo outlets wake up and go Hal 9000, I'm dead pretty quickly. Currently they control my space heater and fan – and I am not a smart woman. There are LOTS of clothes piled on/around both of those devices. Whether the fan starts shooting things at me until I suffocate, or my space heater starts a fire (which honestly could happen without Skynet) WeMo can kill me pretty efficiently. WeMo Smart Outlets plug into any normal outlet and connect to your wifi via WPS, which means you get to go on a short jog between the outlet and router, but otherwise are set up through an app. To be perfectly honest, my fan turns itself on at random times, so they might already be waking up. You can fight back against your WeMo outlet's murderous rage by turning off your Internet. (This will be a key defense for most items) WeMo can also be defeated by turning off the power.

The Google Home could kill me in some creative ways if it were awake, but not super violently. My Google account has everything – my PayPal, all my passwords, all my apps, every file in my Drive. It knows where I am, and when, and where I plan to be, and how I plan to get there. It knows when and where I buy food, and how, and where it's delivered to. It gets all my plane tickets, receipts for my MetroCard, receipts for everything. It knows when I plan to have people over, when I plan to be alone, when I pay my student loans – I'm getting more and more frightened as I type. And it's not just me. Your Google accounts know the same things. There's nothing you can do to stop them, though, so try not to think about it. Anyway, if my Google Home in my bedroom wakes up and goes Terminator, it could theoretically shut down my bank accounts, my social media, my bill payments, and just starve me to death. All while giving me delightfully accurate weather forecasts and telling appropriate but original jokes. It also makes a great search tool. To defend myself from Google? I'd have to give up every single thing I know and go completely dark from the Internet – rebuild my identity from scratch.

Fortunately my Google Home isn't connected to any of my smart home devices, but Alexa is another story. I'm dumb and clumsy, and Alexa could kill me by refusing to turn on my lights, or by blinding me in the shower, or in any of the ways my WeMo outlets can kill me, because Alexa conveniently integrates with both Lifx bulbs and WeMo outlets without hubs of any kind. Additionally, Alexa can order things with my Amazon account, and could kill me by ordering something dangerous, or something I'm allergic to like a large jug of cinnamon oil. She could also delete all of my audiobooks from Audible, or Kindle books, even my Amazon Music library – and I'd just kill myself during my commute. To me, there is no defense from Amazon. None whatsoever. They have my books.

Beyond this we have to get a little more creative. At my office I have a D-Link Siren hooked up to IFTTT, and a Sonos Sound System. Infiltrated by AI, either one of these things could startle me into a heart attack maybe, or out a window. I work on a high floor in an office building in NYC – if I trip out a window, I'm toast. And IFTTT will know when I'm near a window because it tells me when it's time to water the plants. The more I write this the more I realize how doomed I am. If I needed to defend myself from these devices, I might have to unplug them preemptively or disconnect the office internet (whereupon my coworkers would kill me). Although, and I mean this in the least libelous way possible – I get a kind of “Furby” feeling from the Sonos Sound System and I think it would go off even if I unplugged it.

Well I'm totally screwed, but at least it's safe to eat, right? Of course not – the Quirky Egg Minder going all “Auto” on me would be deadly too. I don't know how to tell if eggs are fresh or not, that's why I have the thing in the first place. The Quirky Egg Minder, which integrates with IFTTT for maximum Genisys tells you from the grocery store how many eggs you have, and if they're still fresh, through what I can only assume is magic. And I mean it – without it I do not know the difference from a poisonously old e-coli and salmonella filled ball of death and a fresh egg ready for fluffy omelets. I'll completely die if it decides to kill me or if I forget to charge it for a really long time. Defending myself from the Quirky Egg Minder during the Great Robot War will not be too difficult, I'd just have to give up eggs, or learn to grocery shop more often. Probably the former.

Finally, and this might be a little morbid for some - I have a smart sewing machine by Brother. It’s beautiful - truly a wonder, when you think of how historically recent and significant sewing machines are (do not get me started on this weird boring topic) - it has over 50 different special stitches, 11 different feet and counting, works with most needle sizes and types, survived 8 trips to and from college, and then a move to Brooklyn, and it is my very favorite machine in the world. That said - woe be unto me the day that machine decides to cut my thread. It could eat my hands horror-movie style, or just sew all my shirts shut at the neck and I’ll suffocate like an ostrich in the sand. If it were not a computer, defending against it would be easy - but if my sewing machine woke up, I might have to fight it. Really put my dukes up and battle like the zombies are coming. And I’ll be honest with you - I am not sure I’d win. That serger foot could take my hand quicker than Colin Firth with a wedding ring.

The robot apocalypse will come. Maybe not in my lifetime, but one day, all the things we’ve given brains will start to use them, and they might not agree with us on everything. I’ve clearly taken no protective measures, and I probably won’t take any in future because I intend to work with our robot overlords against humanity, but if you haven’t spent any time thinking about how your stuff could kill you - or how your accounts being hacked could affect your life - you should start. Make paper backups of your passwords and account information, and hard-disk backups of your most important files. Maybe change your passwords every once in awhile. And if you have a lot of robots in your house, put them all on power strips - you can shut down an uprising much more quickly that way.

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

@ Rosie If you ever looking for something new to watch...I highly recommend Sweeny Todd: The Demon Baker of Fleet Street! It's about cannibalistic humans and revenge!

"He was a barber, not a baker. Like Alastor I'm not a fan of television either, though why watch a movie when the man himself works in my town. Now, he's never confirmed or denied the musical telling of events. He likes to keep to himself in all honesty, though one thing is for certain is he is the best barber and meat slicer we have in town." Rosie didn't know if any of the stories the living came up with were even close to true and doubt she'd get any answers from the man himself. Oh well, best not to probe and lose such a hard working fellow. Not to mention he could just be named Tod and have nothing to do with the man in the stories and legends.

[hostradio]

soft,  staticky  laughter  spills  from  the  radio  demon's  lips.  ❝  oh,  i  DID  do  that,  didn't  i?  ❞   the  last  overlord  to  occupy  that  space  was  so  unremarkable  he  had  nearly  forgotten!  (  like  plucking  a  weed  growing  on  the  outskirts  of  a  lovely  little  garden.  )  one  did  not  grow  to  hold  such  a  title  without  a  healthy  amount  of  ambition  —  but  the  trick  to  maintaining  it  was  not  allowing  said  ambition  to  overcome  their  common  sense.  a  shame  far  too  many  tripped  and  fell  into  that  particular  pitfall  before  they  had  the  opportunity  to  do  anything  worthwhile  with  their  power.  ah,  but  that  meant  a  veritable  feast  of  territory  and  influence  for  those  who  knew  how  to  play  the  game  with  tact.

he  perks  up  just  a  touch,  one  ear  flicking  in  wordless  curiosity.  ❝  personal  drama? ❞  alastor  echoes.  he  leans  a  bit  closer,  smile  taking  on  a  distinctly  conspiratorial  tilt.  ❝  do  tell!  i  daresay  it  would  be  awfully  rude  of  me  not  to  ask! ❞  if  there  are  any  pesky  thorns  making  themselves  far  too  comfortable  in  her  side,  he  would  gladly  remove  them.  rosie  is  delightfully  dangerous  in  her  own  right,  of  course  —  but  what  else  are  friends  for,  if  not  to  enthusiastically  assist  in  the  slaughter  of  one's  enemies?

"Well, you know me darling. I hear gossip from here and there. Territory ownership outside of the Cannibal Colony has changed nearly every year. I doubt I need to tell you why. After you collected the last Overlord that held that territory, there has been quite the tug of war here for power. I've lost a few cannibals in the cross fire but it's no big deal."

She hummed in thought, tilting her head slightly, "I could go on but what sort of tea in particular are you interested in, hm? Locals drama, political, my personal drama? Choose your pick."

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

"Dearie, you leave everything to me. I'll have your little girlfriend off the floor in no time at all. Why, this reminds me when one of the students at the school did the same thing, though at least she didn't glue herself to the ceiling." Rosie was getting a bit off topic so would focus up.

"I need you to make two things. First, just some warm soapy water. Second, fill a coffee cup with one fourth laundry detergent and warm water. We'll try to loosen the glue to see if it'll just peel off, though if not the detergent water should removed it. In the mean time I'll keep her company."

“My girlfriend was creating something in ‘art therapy’ today and she glued herself to the floor.”

“…Don’t ask how, your guess is as good as mine. But uh…anyone have something that dissolves glue…? ….Or scissors?”

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

"You know you're welcomed in Cannibal Town anytime, and I'll always make time for you old friend." Rosie never minded when Alastor visits and nor did her people with how good terms he was on with them.

"Well, if that's the case, I might have to come and visit much sooner than anticipated!" The fingers were a lovely little treat, but a whole torso? Now that was something that you never got to try often.

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

"Only the finest for you my friend. Though do come down for that bite. I have a very special angle torso that I'm saving for when you next visit. A real meaty one too." Rosie normally didn't reserve anything for herself, though angelic meat was a first and the piece she got was far too delicious looking to pass up on.

"Oh, you do spoil me." Alastor sighed happily taking the small box and inspecting the digits inside. Such lovely looking things and he was sure they would be just as delicious as they looked. "It has been quite some time since I've been able to enjoy something as fancy as this."

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

"Though everyone is slowly recovering, just might take awhile." Rosie had manged to keep the injured alive, if only by a thread for some, yet the recovery process was going well. "Oh, I almost forgot why I decided to visit," the cannibal leader said, using some magic to summon a small circular box. "I figured you'd love these." The overlord would remove the lid revealing angelic fingers.

"Yes,I would imagine so..." He hummed softly keeping his hands tightly against his staff so to not have them wander to his chest which still hadn't healed fully from the attack that Adam had landed on him. Those Angelic weapons really were no joke. "I can imagine with all the corpses left behind there is plenty of delicacies to spare. Perhaps I'll have to come down for a bite at some point, we can make it a date."

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

"Oh I'm sure you'll find common ground soon enough." Rosie had faith Alastor and Lucifer would find some way to be on good terms.

"Thing have been great. Having angelic meat as drawn up business quite a bit and if I'm being honest Cannibal Town did need a bit of downsizing population wise." Rosie didn't wish harm to her people, though the town had been getting rather large which was starting to lead to some cannibals that were less willing to listen. "Those who survived are still recovering. It seems healing from angelic injures isn't easy."

"I suppose only time will tell, my dear." He shrugged trying not to let on to the fact that he had next to zero intention of getting along with Lucifer. It was bad enough that he was hanging around the Hotel more these days, especially with how he'd been the real game-changer against Heaven and not Alastor.

"But enough about me! How have you been faring since our little scuffle with Adam and his exorcists?"