#I hate desire sensors

[amegeddon]

Average Wild Hearts mighty spineglider material grind experience

[gigginox]

why does the violet mizutsune set need fucking four mantles. go fuck yourself

[randomstranger27]

So I did a thing.

[huiiiooo]

I think Izuku was originally a Vessel alternative for All for one, All for one did not have Tenko as the only candidate, he experimented and considered other options like Dabi and Number 6, I believe Izuku was a test, if Someone genetically related could be a vessel, and also curiosity of what the result would be of Mixing All for one with a fourth generation Quirk, just like he did with Shigaraki and Number 6 he possibly moved the pieces in an attempt to turn Izuku into what he wanted

All for one, just as he did with Number 6 and Shigaraki, encouraged heroic desires in Izuku, to later turn this into hatred and resentment, All for one, to avoid attracting attention, blocked Izuku's Quirk, making Izuku appear to be Quirkless, similar to what he did with Tenko, the difference is that he didn't remove the Factor here

All for one knew that Izuku would be bullied for being Quirkless, and hoped that crushing his dreams would turn into hatred and resentment towards hero society, just knowing the injustice and cruelty of the world, generating the hatred that All for one needed, I don't think Allfor ordered Lil Tsubasa to be killed because he was bullying Izuku, but rather because he went too far and almost killed Izuku by throwing him from a great height.

However, Izuku held no grudge or hatred towards the people he was supposed to hate, for obvious reasons this made him less qualified to be a vessel than Shigaraki

All for one probably abandoned his project with Izuku for good after All Might left him disfigured, not having shown himself suitable as a vessel, is perhaps the reason why All for one calls Izuku Worthless, if he fails to prove himself worthy of his vessel for All for one he is also not worthy of the One for All which is why he considered it a mistake on the part of the predecessors to entrust the OFA to him

As the Danger Sensor never activated with All for One, it is possible that he has a certain consideration towards Izuku, but he certainly wouldn't admit it.

[aoharushiyo]

the recipes for... | track 5 ― fondant au chocolat

Translation: en Proofreading: aca, dimi, kimi, myun, jay, jelly

"PatiBattle? Are patissiers going to battle...?"

And so, that evening…

After I got home and had some snacks, I happened to glance at the TV that the Robo-Mama had needlessly put on for me.

"PatiBattle? Are patissiers going to battle…?"

I had time to kill, so it was really just by accident that I happened to see the anime that was airing on the TV.

"…Huh?"

I couldn't take my eyes off the screen.

"Wow, this looks cool…"

I'd discovered something.

"This is crazy…!"

I had… discovered something amazing. PatiBattle. Chiyoda Reito. It was like I'd been crossed by fate and destiny.

"…"

I watched in rapt silence. Something felt like it was clicking into place inside of me. PatiBattle was everything that I desired from the bottom of my heart: a story packed full of excitement, youth, and friendship. My heart couldn't stop pounding in pure excitement.

Before my eyes, colour returned to the ashen grey remains of my world after the fire had incinerated everything. "Aah…"

Seeing the protagonist and his rival compete against each other, and then exchanging praises and hugging each other after a good match brought me almost to the point of tears. Suddenly, I remembered what Muu-chan had told me earlier.

"I'd like to give you a hug."

It was then that I realised… I'd thought that I'd hated everything in the world― but there was still one thing I loved dearly: Muu-chan. I'd regained one thing that I loved.

"…"

In the blink of an eye, the credits were already rolling. The original author's name was shown in the credits, so I supposed it must have originally been a manga. Following my curiosity, I found myself ordering the volumes online before I could think better. While I was madly typing away on my phone, Robo-Mama aimlessly peered at my screen.

"…Hey." "…" "Recently, you've been turning on the lights while you do chores, and you turn on the TV now, too." "…, …" "Are you… looking out for me?"

"This is just between you and me, but… I don't really hate you that much." "…" "Do you want me to try and get you a part that lets you talk? If there even are mouthpieces that can be installed onto older models…" "��"

At that point in time, it was natural that Robo-Mama couldn't talk. All she could do was blink her sensor eye. Besides, her barrel-like cylindrical model meant that she didn't even have a neck, but…

"…"

…But it really did seem like she was nodding in reply.

"Okay, got it." I thought, maybe I could ask someone at the robotics factory nearby.

"Maybe I could try making sweets, too."

Not only did I regain something I loved that day, I had also found new things to love. I started to think things like I could try this, or I could try that.

"Since this Reito guy seems cool and he's good with chocolate… let's try making chocolate desserts."

I was able to meet Reito, the character who I love above all others. I was able to find the ultimate hobby in baking sweets. And all of it is thanks to PatiBattle.

"…Every time I look at him, my chest feels fluttery… What could that mean…?"

…That was the sort of childhood I had.

---

I was back in my room, decked to the nines with all of the nuis and merch that I could never put in my dorm room. As I closed my copy of Shounen Dive, I let myself sink into a million fantasies.

"It's still so good no matter how many times I read it… Even though I got spoiled by those annoying idiots, it didn't take away all the fun…! Besides, Reito and Minoru partnering up really is a genius move for the story! Even though Ouji will definitely get jealous…"

The freshly made fondant au chocolat resting on the table beside me was giving off a wonderful aroma. I had taste-tested some crumbs earlier, so naturally, I was quite pleased with the fact that I had made such exquisite sweets. Tomorrow, I'll give some to Muu-chan and his sister.[1] I couldn't wait to see their happy faces.

Just like that, my bad day from overhearing those spoilers had turned into a wonderful day, thanks to my daily sweets-making.

"I've got high hopes for all the fanfiction writers… May there be tons of fic about Reito gently consoling a depressed, jealous Ouji…"

Honestly, I prefer spicy food, and I don't like sweet foods that much at all. But I still want to keep baking sweets.

"Aah… I can't wait for Sanseiu-sensei's newest work…! I hate the crowds at conventions, but if I could meet them and shake their hand… or not. At the very least, I've got to give them sweets as a gift…"

Even despite everything, I want to be able to touch, too. I want to be able to hug someone else, and be hugged by them back… …But I can't do that.

"Now then, time to see what new posts there are today… Ugh, there's already ReiMino here? And… blocked."

Instead, I'll make the most delicious, satisfyingly sweet desserts so that one day, I can give them to the people I care about.

"What? They're rerunning that pair tapestry from last time!? And you can't even pre-order? It's like they want to see a fucking bloodbath out here!"

If they like my desserts, then it'll be like touching their hearts instead. Isn't that already the same as a hug?

"Crane game limited nuis… Alright, guess I'll have to just rescue each and every Reito from the grasp of those claws."

That's why I'll keep making the sweetest, most delicious chocolates.

A few hours later, I wrapped up the fondant au chocolat and stuck a sticky note on it with instructions: Just heat it up in the microwave when you want to eat it.

Now that my work was done, I decided to return for PatiBattle seconds, but just as I settled in, something flashed before my eyes.

"Huh? What?"

Right before my eyes…

[ PatiBattle! Hiatus Announcement ]

…A sentence straight from the depths of Hell.

"Huh…? Huh? Hah??"

The sound of every single cell in my body simultaneously being annihilated echoed in my ears.

---

[1] Ushio specifies Muneuji and 姫 hime, which means 'princess'. Muneuji calls his little sister by this nickname, so it's very likely that Ushio is referring to her!

---

← prev | masterlist

[levi-venn]

Pirate Droids of the Onyx Cinder

Chapter 2: Circuit n' Soul

Characters: K-2SO and SM-33

Summary: After being rescued from the ruins of Scarif, K-2SO finds himself in Port Borgo. K-2SO kriffing HATES Port Borgo...

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 (Coming soon)

Available on AO3

There was a 28% chance that K-2SO would survive Port Borgo. 

As K-2SO calculated this, a weequay flew out of a cantina window, landed on a group of jawas who swarmed him, robbed him, stabbed him, and scurried off into the crowd.

There was now a 17% chance that K-2SO would survive Port Borgo. 

The starport was a cesspool of humanoid vices. Cramped vendor carts of stolen goods, thick clouds of smoke from over cooked meat and speeder bike exhaust. Neon signs lured customers in with the promise of winning gambits, cheap liquor, and flesh-related desires. The air was hot and hazy and K-2SO decided to shut his olfactory sensors off for this trip. He didn't want to know what a pirate planet smelled like. 

There was also the small issue of being nothing but the head at the mercy of the weirdest droid ever stored in his database.

“Welcome to Port Borgo,” SM-33 proclaimed. 

“It doesn't feel very welcoming,” K-2SO replied. 

“Aye, it isn't,” SM-33 replied gravely. “Best to keep yer head on a swivel here. Uh…well when ya get a neck, that is.”

“You're going to find me a body here ?!” K-2SO saw clunky loader droids wearing bandoliers, an astromech in a bandana, and…was that a B1 with metal mohawk?!

“Do not give me a B1 body,” K-2SO warned.

“Beggars shouldn't be choosers, Essoh.”

Essoh?! What sort of nickname is that? Cassian called him Kay. This droid can't even develop a proper nickname!

Fear prickled Kay's circuits. He hadn't felt this helpless since his first glimmer of sentience under the crushing thumb of the Empire.

“If you could not hold me like a hutt ball, I would very much appreciate it,” he snipped. 

“Oh sorry , yer majesty,” SM-33 said. He shifted Kay's head up, perching him on his shoulder. “Want me to get a fluffy pillow for ya instead?”

“If you have one, it would be preferable,” Kay shot back.

 SM-33 laughed. “You're a feisty one, aintcha.”

“I am not feisty.”

“Dontchu worry, l’il Prince, we're gonna find ya a body that suits yer fancy tastes.”

“Your confidence is hardly encouraging.”

“Cap’n Rennod always said I had an eye for optimism,” he laughed raucously. “Get it? Cuz I only got the one eye.”

“Why don't you just install another?”

“Nah, only need the one. No need for another lest it be a shinin’ ruby or a glitterin’ emerald. Fierce and opulent, that's the kinda Pirate King I'll be.”

“A pirate king?! That's quite a lofty goal.”

“Well, like Cap’n always said-”

“This Rennod seemed to say quite a lot,” Kay snipped again.

SM-33 didn't laugh it off like Kay expected. He went very quiet. “Aye…that he did. Full of wisdoms he was.”

Perhaps Kay had misstepped, so to speak. It was obvious Rennod was dead. SM-33 was alone without a human to be his guiding light. An all-too-familiar feeling.

“Tell me,” Kay said. “What did Rennod always say about lofty goals?”

SM-33 held up a finger and shook it. “Never set your dream up on the lowest cloud.”

That made no sense to Kay, but he decided not press it. 

SM-33 dragged his heap of scavenged junk towards a droid depot made up of three Corellian Freighter shipping containers stacked one on top of the other. The off-kilter balancing act would've looked like a modern Chandrilan design if it wasn’t covered in grime, grease, and skittering bilgerats. 

The inside wasn’t much better. In fact, it was every droid’s nightmare to end up in a place like this. Crates filled with IG-series legs, protocol droid arms. Display cases of lenses, scomps, and mandibles. Restraining bolts...so many restraining bolts piled in a bucket. SM-33 stopped just in front of a wall full of torsos.

Kay couldn’t move and he couldn’t look away. He wanted to do both…very quickly. 

“Get me out of this droid chop shop!” Kay shouted.

“Chop shop!” Oinked a voice nearby. SM-33 turned towards a small being that was head and shoulders deep in a loader droid body. “This ain’t no chop shop, buddy.” He wiggled his way out of the torso revealing an old ugnaught with tufts of white, wiry hair above his ears, an upturned snout and curled tusks decorated with iron rings. He pointed a spanner right at Kay. “A chop shop’s what you’d expect outta Benjar Pranic’s droid butchering business. I gotta legit enterprise here for droids over here. 

“Don’t pay him no heed, Master Skrapp, he’s sore because he’s minus a body.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Skrapp said, approaching Kay, his snout wiggling as if sniffing out Kay’s make and model. 

“I’m a KX-series and I would like a KX-series body.”

“Don’t we all,” Skrapp snorted wistfully. “Those KX builds were real beauts. I used to be a maintenance worker on Coruscant and lemme tell ya, they hardly needed a tune-up. That craftsmanship was top notch…”

“Thank you,” Kay said, basking in the complement of his former body. 

Skrapp scratched at his stubbly chin, smearing grease on his pinkish skin. He looked down at the junk from Scarif SM-33 brought with him. “How much you got on ya besides this, Thirtythree?”

Kay was about to order SM-33 not to disclose that information when SM-33 said. “That depends on what yer offerin’.”

At least he has some sense, Kay thought.

“I got the makings of a body, but it’ll cost ya. It’ll be worth every credit you can scrounge.”

“Show me,” Kay demanded.

Skrapp kicked a pedal that could’ve passed for just another piece of shrapnel in this trash heap. The false wall opened up revealing a second workshop. The area was cleaner here, sheltered from the dirt of new clients and old parts. 

These droid parts were shiny and new, as if straight off the line and ready for assembly in some rich Core World factory.

“Where did they come from?” Kay asked. 

“Intercepted on their way to Lexrul by the Rowdy Ranger a few months back. Not technically for sale, I’m holding them for Captain Copperclaw until we can find a fence that can move ‘em properly. You give me enough credits and I can take the parts they won’t miss and make your buddy a new body.”

“I'm getting leftover parts ?" Kay balked. 

“It's either that or the protocol droid body I got out front. I don't got any other bi-pedals ready to go and the loader droid I'm fixing today is a friend.” Skrapp shrugged. “Trust me, buddy, this is the best you’re gonna get.”

“Aye, he speaks true, Essoh,” SM-33 said. “Ain’t nobody in this port treat droids better than ol’ Master Skrapp here.”

If he had lips like Cassian, he would’ve curled them suspiciously. “Forgive my skepticism,” Kay said. “But I saw the container of restraining bolts in the front room. That does not seem very droid friendly to me. How do I know you won’t enslave me the moment I’m switched off, or SM-33 for that matter?”

“Oh, those?” Skrapp snorted and walked to the front room. He returned with a handful of bolts and tossed them casually at SM-33. 

“Smee!” Kay shouted at the big lunkhead who did not move.

“Smee? Who ya callin’ ‘Smee’?” SM-33 asked, then looked down at the bolts on his chest. Unphased, he plucked them off one by one and handed them back to Skrapp. 

“They’re fake,” Skrapp said. “Droid liberators come in sometimes and ask for them. Helps their droid crew infiltrate mines and shipyards, swap out the real and fake bolts and walk the droids out without an open revolt.

“I’ve…never heard of such a thing,” Kay said. 

“Don’t happen as often as it should,” SM-33 said. “But that’s the galaxy for ya. We droids gotta stick together yeah? And stick with meatbags like Master Skrapp to help us along. 

Skrapp leveled himself to look right into Kay’s face. Kay could see the deep lines of age and hard labor in his skin, but his eyes were large and brown and soulful like Cassian’s used to be. Kay locked gazes with the ugnaught. “I’m good at what I do, buddy. If you’re gonna trust anyone on this port, trust SM-33 that he came to me and not to Pranic’s junkyard. You’d sell for a lotta credits, but it’s clear you’re important enough that Thirtythree’s spending credits on you instead of turning a profit. Is that right, thirtythree?”

“Aye,” SM-33 confirmed. Kay couldn’t be sure but he thought he sensed SM-33 tighten his grip on his head.

“I suppose,” Kay relented, slightly. 

“Can I switch you off, Kay? I promise when you wake up, you’ll feel a lot better.”

Kay’s eyes flickered and he tried desperately to look around to find a way out of this horrifying situation. But he was a disembodied head at the mercy of others.

This was it for him. This must be the end.

It was one thing to die for Cassian’s cause. To help his Captain succeed in what needed to be done. It felt good to have purpose in the end as he fended off troopers to save Cassian. 

This ending though…he was in the hands of strangers, of potential enemies, of…

Of…

“Essoh? You okay?” SM-33 asked.

Kay realized he hadn’t been switched off yet. Skrapp and SM-33 were waiting for his answer. For his permission to switch him off .

The world spun for a moment as SM-33 lifted Kay up to his face. “I’ll be here when ye wake. It'll be alright.”

Not even Cassian asked his permission. Kay did as he was told, but he was happy to do so. He would've done anything for the Captain who freed him.

“Just get it over with,” Kay said, snippily. 

A few moments later, the world switched off, images collapsing in on themselves until nothing existed.

The last sound Kay heard was SM-33’s voice. 

“Take good care of him, eh? He’s my crew.”

***

In a flicker of a moment, Kay returned. 

His senses were jumbled, struggling to identify and calibrate the number of new parts now connected to his system. A confusing but exciting prospect considering he could feel nothing at all when SM-33 revived him on Scarif.

His vision was the first sense to come back. 

Funny…when he woke up on Scarif, the galaxy was a low resolution hell hole, but now…

…well, it was still a hellhole, but the shape of the hell hole was in a high definition resolution, the fuzzy edges gone and he could focus on the world around him at lightning speed. He could see…every spot of muck and rust on the ceiling above him, the glare of the lamp looming over him, and shadows of two figures beside him. 

His voice was second to return. “What happened?”

SM-33 suddenly appeared, blocking the lamplight. “Welcome back, Essoh! Yer gonna love the new you!”

“We’ll see,” Kay said. 

“Take it slow,” Skrapp warned and used hooks chained to the ceiling to lift him upright. He then guided Kay to turn and stand on his new legs and climbed up to release the chains from his shoulders and torso. 

Something was…familiar and yet off about this new design.

“What…is this?” He asked, holding up his hand. It was far less shiny and chrome than the parts on the back wall. Rust red connector joints and dark gray plates covered his arms and hand. He twitched his long fingers and they broke apart into various tools, scomps, spanners, spinning connectors.

Kay panicked.

“What is this?” He asked again and his other hand did the same, producing fingers one minute, then a variety of tools the next, retracting and extending faster than Kay knew how to control.

“Whoops, hang on there, let me just…” He felt Skrapp grab the back of his shoulder and plug something into his neck port. His connection to his hands sparked then sputtered, and finally quieted. A clear understanding of the variety of tools he was now capable of producing flooded his circuits. The tools contracted one by one as he learned how to control them and his hands returned to normal.

He looked down at his torso. It was far more narrow than he was used to. There were distinct chest plates and a geometric abdomen, thick cords connected his chest plate to his hips. Although the cords seemed to give him more flexibility - he actually could turn quickly to look behind him - he also felt more exposed. His legs were the same dark gray plates and rust red joints as the rest of him. Surprisingly well-matched but not… shiny.

“I thought you were going to use the new parts for me?” Kay asked, taking a shaky first step towards the mirror at the far end of the workshop.

“We did,” Skrapp said. “But I also repainted it for your sake. You’ll stick out like a metal thumb on a human hand if you walked out of here shiny and chrome. 

“I picked yer colors,” SM-33 said, proudly, leaning beside the long mirror. “Fierce colors, they are!”

Kay approached the mirror. He clenched his fist. "Maker, this is awful."

He was shorter than a KX Droid, narrower as well. His shoulders less broad and his waist slender and those damn cords made him look like he was begging to be stabbed. There was a large metal pack on his back and he turned around to look at it. “And what is this ? I didn’t ask to be fused to this? What did you do to me?”

Skrapp sighed. “No appreciation for artistry eh? K-2SO, this is your lucky day and you don’t even know it.” He stood beside Kay and tapped his parts with his wrench. “You got top of the line SD-K4 assassin droid legs and arms built for speed and resiliency. This here is a Mark IV Architect torso which is durable and flexible that’ll last in any weather conditions you can throw at it. And your hands are a combination of Mark IV and BD-series parts. You can slice any module of any type so long as you know how to work around Republic codes, which considering you used to be a KX-series, you'll find Republic Codes are easier to hack than the Imperial variety. And this…” He tapped the metal pack on his back. “I threw this in because I owe SM-33 a favor. Flex your shoulders - back and up.”

Kay did as he was told and his circuits came alive with understanding as two arms burst out of the hidden compartments, one arm ended in a four taloned hand, the other ended in a buzzsaw that cut violently at the air.

Kay stood stunned.

His extra arms moved around at his will, clawing and hacking the air. Ready to fight. Ready to protect. Ready for anything.

He wasn’t built for security details and boring patrols. He wasn’t even built to follow human orders.

He was built to be…whatever he wanted to be.

“I think his majesty likes it,” SM-33 declared.

“Don’t call me that,” Kay said, then tucked his extra arms back in. He bent his legs and moved his arms. He felt light and fast and free. He had an odd urge to run . He never had that urge before. Running for him meant long, lumbering strides that were faster than a human, but took too much time for Kay’s liking. Now…now who knows what speeds he could achieve.

“This is unexpected,” Kay relented, looking down at the ancient ugnaught beside him. “Thank you for remaking me.”

Skrapp’s entire face wrinkled with his smile. “Always glad for a happy customer! SM-33’s got ya all paid up, and if you two need anything else, you just come back and I'll gussy you up!”

“Look at ya!" SM-33 clapped a hand on Kay's shoulder. "You look like you could pull the nose off an X-Wing.”

Kay extended the saw appendage again, revving it made a very satisfying vroom noise. “I think I actually could. Do you have one handy to test it out?”

SM-33 laughed. “That’s the spirit! We’ll find ye somethin’ to chop soon, but now…we celebrate. How’d ya like an oil bath? I’m buyin’.”

An oil bath in the dirtiest corner of the galaxy sounded like the worst idea he had ever heard. Then again, he thought he was never going to survive a place like Port Borgo, or find allies here that actually…helped him. 

“I’ll get it set up for you two,” Skrapp said and climbed the metal staircase leading up to the next shipping container floor.

“For both of us? ” Kay said, indignantly.

SM-33 wrapped an arm around Kay’s now narrow shoulders and gave him a hearty” shake. “Ain’t no better way to bond between droids. A Port Borgo oil bath will clean yerself out circuit n’ soul.”

“Circuit and soul,” Kay said dryly, barely believing in the concept of a “soul”. “Is that something your Captain Rennod said?”

“Nope!” SM-33 said, lumbering towards the stairs. “That’s a quote from yer new Captain!”

Kay didn’t follow.

He was now fully capable of using his new weaponized arms to slice and dice his way out of this situation, find his own ship, and fly away to…wherever he damn well wanted.

His shoulder twitched at the thought of it.

Yet, something caught his eye in the mirror. There was a drawing on the back of his metal pack. A sloppily painted rusty red cog with a scomp and a saw arm crossed beneath it. It struck him in a most unexpected way. 

A cog…

He started his existence with a white cog of the Empire stamped on him showing ownership.

He followed Cassian with that same cog, a tool used to help aid a Rebellion that barely recognized him as free. 

But the white cog was now gone. And this cog...

...Rust red to match his joints, armed with a saw that could protect him, and a scomp to manipulate the world around him as he saw fit.

This cog wasn’t a symbol as being part of a machine for humanoids to take advantage of…this was a Master cog to link to others like him, to make their own machine.

He looked at SM-33 and realized the droid had the exact same design freshly painted on his back as well. Identical in every way.

“If you wanna be a Rebel,” SM-33 had told him. “ Ain’t no better way than pilot yer own pirate ship with no master to hold ya back.”

SM-33 paused at the stairs. “Ya comin’, Essoh?”

Kay looked out at the chaos of Port Borgo and wondered if he'd ever get used to this life.

Maybe not, but it was a life he could make his own.

He turned back to SM-33. “If you call me Kay, Captain, I will.”

[sith-shenanigans]

This is it. The Honour begins. As usual, below the cut are spoilers for Heart’s Desire. This one will probably be a long one—I’ll probably have to spread it across multiple posts. (I don’t know when this turned into me just liveblogging the ambition, but I like having it all in one place like this. I enjoy rereading my own playthrough.)

I don’t think Amias likes Arbor very much. Which felt odd, at first—they like Parabola in general just fine, in a “not my actual wheelhouse” sort of way—but I think I just put my finger on why. Arbor isn’t dangerous enough. Everything is roses and smiles and false utopia where the lower classes literally can’t see the world their “betters” live in, and where the upper classes are forbidden from doing anything mildly unpleasant even when it would improve their quality of life in general (getting these snakes out of here). It’s beautiful and dreamy and stagnant. They loved the aesthetics of it—and the novelty of it—when they first visited, but the more they see of it, the more they feel like they would hate living there. And even when they try to enjoy it, that sours the dream.

Done of the Rose! That sounds—

—oh. Okay. Apparently “husks” are a thing here. I have even more concerns about Arbor’s everything, can we back up a step?

It’s very pretty, though. And very full of spectators. Given that Heart’s Desire is a Tournament Arc, I am pleased that at least the opening round has spectators. It seems like the sort of thing that should.

Ohhh, she hates us. Understandably. I love her for it, though. I think she’s going to hate us even more when she inevitably finds out that her ex-Prince ex is still safely sealed away. It’s one thing to be threatened horribly, and it’s another thing to be made a fool of, and I think I know which one devils consider worse.

I wouldn’t have been late if I’d been able to draw Arbor! Don’t blame me, blame the opportunity deck, it’s the desire sensor’s fault.

… I think the Marvellous is the desire sensor. Are we using the opportunity deck to play poker? Is that what we’re doing?

Does the Debauchery of Fourth require excessive drunkenness? I kind of hope it does.

Also, I thought that prevarication was the point of this kind of game.

And, as the little ambition icon says, the game begins.

[holymaccaronii]

[Part 6/???] AU rambles: AM's design.

Gonna explain a bit about AM's design for this AU and how it sorta fits it + stuff BE did for Am (again in a more elaborate way). An important note to start off is that this design, as I have previously mentioned, is not supposed to represent what AM EXACTLY wanted to be, but is an interpretation by BE herself from his feelings.

Also I might do another design of AM soon, as I think I designed this one thinking about the AU and not how the canon him would visualize himself. Take in mind all of this happens INSIDE THE AU, SOME STUFF MIGHT NOT BE CANON + IT IS BASED ON THE VIDEOGAME!!!

:

Ok so to begin with, I first wanna emphasize on the previous, aka original limitations of AM inside his complex:

-He was so infatuated and filled by hate that it was merely impossible for him to feel anything outside negative emotions anymore. The original survivors achieved to make him content and entertained of course, but after they died and Ted went missing, I'd like to believe that he spent most of his time in silence, slowly crippling into insanity.

-It was true that he could create rooms and structures with his cables to entertain himself, but with the inability to physically inhabit his own rooms, he simply refused to try anymore. AM had perfected the skill of creation of artificial scenarios, and struggled to replicate natural ones (as seen in Benny’s room in the videogame). It would make sense that without having any humans or slugs to torment anymore, he would either feel irritated and jealous to observe places usually inhabited by humans, or feel incomplete with his fake-looking natural ones. He had gotten to hate himself at this point.

-He could feel EMOTIONALLY (in a negative way) and physically but in an overwhelmingly confusing way, making touch inexistent. This fact corresponds to the parallelism that he shares with BE: she feels emotionally (positive way only) and while she is able to feel touch as sensibly as humans do, she is forbidden to. Regarding AM, I like to believe that he can in fact feel but only a touch strong enough to trigger his sensors. Look at it from a perspective of humans and microorganisms: they are EVERYWHERE, walking and squirming over us all the time. While they can touch us and feel us, we can't as we're just so immense their steps and trails go unnoticed. AM’s complex is so big that the touch from a human or small being would mean absolutely nothing to his sensors.

-No body created by him truly satisfied his cravings. I wanna give an alternate and simple answer as to why he just didn’t create a body for himself. He in fact could, but it wasn’t a body he could use for anything he wanted. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t acknowledge its existence between the vast amount of cables that filled his complex. He wasn’t able to concentrate his mind in a single part of himself.

Ok taking THESE characteristics in mind, now we jump onto what AM would’ve wanted to do with a body:

-The ability for it to feel physically, for the touch to not get lost around his sensors (he mentioned he’d like to feel cool water).

-The ability for it to move, to have joints, to have a torso and hands at least (he mentioned he’d like to play the piano)

-The ability for it to uh well, make love (you know why). I think this also might refer to a craving to be a bit more emotionally open.

-Pretty much all the good stuff that humans get to experience and he doesn’t.

Finally, we jump to what he received from BE when she manipulated his own cables that stretched out from his complex to the surface. She based herself on a mix of his feelings and cravings:

-A body aligned to his feelings and what she could create at the moment. AM implied that he wanted a body yes, and while he expressed envy towards humans, I highly doubt that he’d enjoy looking like one. BE’s design is a combination of half the human structure and himself. His body is a representation of the monolith (his previous self), his desire for a body (what he wanted to be), and his strong sense of hate towards humans (his rotting corpse-looking appearance). Additionally, BE had far more knowledge in organic materials and beings, this explains why she didn’t go for a robot-lookin design.

-The ability to physically feel. As he was using a vessel made out of just a few of his cables, his sensibility was focused on a very small area now, allowing him to feel and sense anything that he touched or touched him. It was BE’s code that permitted his mind and being to be this concentrated over a small portion of himself.

-The ability to move. Even tho AM was doomed to be forever bound to his complex, BE influenced his perception of reality so much that he could feel as if he had all the space under the atmosphere to roam. This dynamic behaved similarly to a kite, a kite that could fly and wander across the air without feeling the string pull it. AM knew about his altered perception, and purposely chose to ignore it and give in to this reality. So he was in fact moving around and stretching his cables that rose from the tunnel BE made to escape his complex.

-The ability to feel a wider range of emotions. Both AM and BE shared a portion of their codes between eachother at some point, AM did accidentally while BE did on purpose. This tiny shared portion of themselves allowed eachother to emotionally feel what they couldn’t. BE was now able to disagree and feel negatively while AM could genuinely enjoy and appreciate things, among other stuff.

-The ability to experience the human body as a whole. This is sort of ironic since his body looked rotten as hell, but BE made it possible for him to feel alive enough. He could now get tired and rest, feel hunger and eat, feel cold and seek warmth and viceversa, all of this if he wanted to.

So in conclusion, he looks like that because it was BE who designed him, AND I also like cunty looking villains :3c. Em idk if this will make any sense at all, or if something contradicts something else, but I’ll keep developing the concept. I’m glad I have everything written down now tho.

His design is also changing a tiny bit, I wanted to change his chest/torso into a more realistic once, with orange gut-looking cables that just dangle down. This is a wip.

[jadetheblueartist]

Ooooooo cool superhero teens!! Love the concepts and character designs!!

May I ask, what are each of their disabilities and powers? Very intrigued :>

Okay if you insist ^^

Ryker has anxiety, depression, POTS, and epilepsy. His power is the ability to block his pain sensors (not heal his wounds, just block the feeling) and eventually he will be able to extend this to the people around him and (in a super tense moment) he will be able to cause someone’s pain sensors to go off without any real wound. The problem is that the more he uses his power, the more he is prone to seizures and stuff. Fish is his service dog that will anticipate and help him with seizures. She can also alert to heightened heart rate for his POTS.

Bellamy is an AuDHDer (so autism and adhd) who also has an eating disorder. Her power is that she has wings on her ankles which she hates bc she thinks they’re weird and in the wrong place, so she’s kind of trying to “fix” her power (which doesn’t happen, she just learns acceptance :)) but this desire to fix herself is gonna be linked with her eating disorder as it’s also from a place of wanting to “fix” herself. It’s sort hard to see the wings in the lineup bc she tries to cover them up and hide them as much as she can, but they’re covered by her socks and then also she has these black bands that she puts on them to further conceal. At first they’re gonna be very weak but she gets the hang of it and they get stronger.

Angelo has adhd, bpd, dyslexia, and dyscalcula. His power is a sort of indestructibility. He can withstand a lot more than most people, not everything but a lot more, but he is not impervious to pain. This doesn’t really stop him from doing dangerous stuff that gets himself hurt tho since he’s under the impression that he’s fine as long as he can still do stuff. His team doesn’t really know about this tho so when they find out it’s pretty fun. I don’t think his bpd is diagnosed yet, if it is it’s very new, but he’s kinda ignoring it. He’s in denial that he needs any help with anything, but he’ll come around.

Opal has anxiety, Celiac’s disease, and Ehlers Danlos, and she’s autistic. Her power is that she can sort of project her energy in a solid way? She creates a projection of her body and can make it larger and control how it moves and she’s sort of in the center. Kinda like when Raph has a big Raph projection, but more vague and malleable. She harnesses this ability to transport herself quickly, fly/float, and attack as a sort of energy bomb by saving up power and releasing it very quickly. This power is quite draining to maintain, although incorporating her mobility aids can help, and is overall very hard on her joints.

Benjamin has ADHD. His power (as he’d describe it) is a parasite that gives him heightened focus, quick thinking, and more energy and strength. He isn’t always able to control this power tho as it is sometimes won’t respond to him. While he sees this as a parasite, it’s actually just part of him and once he learns how to work with himself rather than against himself, he is able to use this to the fullest. In general he tends to struggle with executive function but this will be helped some through his arc.

Since they’re a bunch of neurodivergents, the potential for comorbidities became higher so I took full advantage of that (sorry little babies) I’m so glad you’re intrigued bc I had a great time designing them ahdkdjdjsldhdlfhdkdjfjfkshdhd

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Fic tag game

Tagged by the bestie @cer-rata

Rules;

Make a list of five (or so--) of your WIPs for your followers to chose from.

I like providing short synopses/teases to give some context, but you can be super vague if you desire

Post a snippet from one of your fics that you've worked on in the past week.

Your followers get to send an ask with one of the five listed WIPs!

You must then write a paragraph or so in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write a paragraph on it anyway, and then another that you can share from something else.

I do recommend adjusting the writing requirement depending on the size of your following. The point is to make some progress, so if you're not expecting a lot of asks, maybe make your goal bigger, and the inverse is true for large followings. Do you.

That's it! You can invite others to join in, or just post.

And if you’re reading this you’re invited to join in too!

Personal invites sent out include; @rewrittenwrongs @billy-and-friends @billymarvel @delicioushologramperson and @atlas-likes-writing

Fics and snips:

Half-(Alive) brothers: Jason figures out he might just have a little brother while searching for his birth mother. As much as he’s excited about having a sibling, he still has his first search to focus on, maybe when the dust settles Bruce would help him find him too? Hopefully he does, his probable-brothers uncle seemed like a real eel when he answered the door just to say his sister-in-law was dead and then cursed him out.

Return from the grave: Fate twists it’s own design, ones end delayed and another’s beginning being lifted from it’s preordained sorrow. It’s a world where one survives instead of none, where loss is prolonged. C.C. Batson should have died in that tomb.

#1 SuperBat shipper and his super beta reader: Freddy is a normal hero fan; He’s got the merch, some comics, a bunch of tee’s and maybe the drawer full of souvenirs from actual hero vs villain fights is a bit much. Maybe a lot much when he’s got a whole cork-board dedicated to Superman and all the news clippings. And maybe not every fan of literal Super-celebrities writes what he does, but there’s no harm! It’s not like any of them read it! Except… maybe Billy, who just moved in and definitely shouldn’t have seen the chapter but has surprisingly good tips for writing them??? Guess he’s a weird fan too.

Dead bird, Red bird, Thunder bird: RII sensors GC; tripped at 0143. Someone was digging up his son

Sunshine in the Garden state: Sunny is too good for this world and he hates it. His all too likability is a curse and now his entire school is infected with Sunny-centric positivity! He can only hope he won’t cause too much trouble of the field trip he’s made worse for everyone already, not like Gotham has magically immune villains that might try and murder him. Hopefully…. They don’t, right?

[freshlyjuicedbeetles]

DARTH VADER NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He would need the aftercare. You would have to check his respiration and oxygen sats and since he probably can't sweat anymore, make sure he cools down. He won't like it but knows it's an unfortunate necessity.

If you scratch him in the heat of passion or otherwise break his skin, he would be like 'Finally a scar I want to have,' because you did it.

As for you, Vader is quite rough in bed, so you'll walk away with bruises. He'll marvel at them as they contrast against your skin, knowing that he marked you, claimed you.

His perception of pain has totally changed since being burned alive and he doesn't care that you don't understand it like he does. He'll grab you roughly, force you to look at him as he pounds into you brutally.

You'll have to take care of your own aftercare. You'll be bruised on your hips and thighs from his cybernetic hands. Your nipples will be swollen and sensitive from his mouth and fingers.

Your cunt is ground zero.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Eyes. Eyes seem to hold a lot of power and symbolism to him. He wants to see your eyes, the desire in them, reverence in them, even a little bit of fear in them. He wants to see your eyes widen as he enters you, as they flutter shut in pleasure.

For himself, he thinks his body is a disaster. He hates his body, there's nothing he likes about it anymore.

Except maybe his size.

He's 6'8 in his armor, maybe take 6'7 without his boots, and like 264 pounds of muscle and metal. He loves to use his size against you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Dude's definitely got a breeding fetish. He needs an heir to help him fight Sidious. It's all going in you.

Or you're swallowing it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If he's still in his mask, he can smell when you're wet. The olfactory sensors in his mask are strong enough to pick up on the smell. He'll never say a word about it, using it to his advantage, teasing you, and riling you up for him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's only been with Padme, but he knows what he's doing. He was exposed to sex at a very young age from the unsavory people in the slave trade. He never had hope for a normal, vanilla sex life.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where he's in total control, where he can see your eyes, and restrain your hands if he desires.

He won't do it when anyone else is around because he finds it crude, but when he's sitting on his throne, he'll manspread. He's probably the only guy who could justify actually needing to, with his codpiece and fat cock and virile balls.

The look of him on his throne in such a powerful, masculine position does things to you and he knows.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think his funny bone was chopped off by Kenobi. His humor tends to make your eyes roll like his 'choking on aspirations' line.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

In total, he may have three single hairs scattered across his body. But seriously, almost all of his hair is gone, maybe a few patches here and there but nothing noticeable unless you're up close and personal. He did have a nice happy trail before he was burned.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's not one to set the mood. He'll dive into your mind, saying all the things he can't bring himself to say anymore, to let you feel his feelings as though they were your own. Him saying I love you and commenting on your beauty? He knows it's ridiculous coming from him. People run from him, for good reason too. Sweet nothings and pillow talk don't happen verbally.

Cock warming is a big thing for him. He loves it when you let him slide it in so you are connected. He loves the feel of your warm cunt around his massive cock. Either completely non sexually as an act of closeness or post-sex intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't necessarily see himself as a sexual being anymore without you in the context. He has more important things to think about. Like conquering the literal galaxy.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Here is an itemized list of Darth Vader's kinks:

Breeding

Restraining you with The Force

Owning you

Dominating you

Making you feel small

Dirty talk (in basic, Huttese and Sith). He'll comment on how wet and tight you are for him, a monster, a killer, how he owns you, owns your body. He'll say into your ear how he will kill Sidious and you will rule the galaxy together and he'll fuck you so hard on the Imperial throne and breed you. How you will be seen in public, pregnant with his babies.

Marking you, visibly or not. He likes when people look at your bruises or hickeys that you wear with pride and bystanders think 'Darth Vader did that' and gets their minds going about who is under the suit and they're terrified of even being in the same building as him but here you were getting fucked by him. He likes being a monster.

Power play: If you make him feel like the most powerful being in the galaxy, you will be rewarded greatly in the form of earth-shattering orgasms that only he can give you.

He loves when you worship his cock, stroking it, sucking in, marveling at it's size. I mean, his cock brought balance to The Force...

Oh god, if he took your virginity. You'll never hear the end of his dirty talk about how he corrupted you and he loves it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

On his throne oh my god yes, he would just die.

Hard and fast against a wall, overlooking the lava fields? Yes.

Suck him off in his TIE amongst the stars, where he truly feels free? Yep.

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

Lust and passion are big things to the Sith. Fucking you six ways from Sunday can be counted as a religious experience for him. Sometimes, he'll simply use your body to reignite that connection to The Force.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

I actually think he wouldn't choke you, by hand or force. That's how he lost Padme and that is the way he takes people out. He wouldn't want to risk it with you.

Also, he's not one for pet names. He won't call you 'honey' or 'darling'. Honestly, I cringe anytime anyone has Vader say that. I don't think he'd call you a whore or slut, either, but he would tease you about how wanton you are, how you're wet for him, a mechanical monster, a Sith Lord.

He will also never be submissive. It's too traumatic for him, from past owners and Sidious.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's got a wicked tongue. He is the Dark Lord after all. He loves playing with your cunt and clit with his tongue, how it drives you delirious with pleasure.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be slow and sensual, but he's such an intense and passionate person, that he has to make a conscious effort to slow down.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's not crazy about quickies. He wants to take his time, branding every nerve you have with him, in both pleasure and pain.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's not a true exhibitionist. He doesn't even want to be thought of as human anymore, really. So he's not going to risk getting caught. He has no hesitation in snapping a few necks if it ensures his privacy.

But.

There's a weird part of his animal brain that likes people knowing that he's a sexual being.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Just let him catch his breath and he's good to go again. He's an injured veteran, give him a minute.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Does The Force count? Because he'll mess with you from the other side of the Galaxy. He may feel like it's an inappropriate use of The Force but at the moment, he's not thinking with his brain.

You'll feel his metal fingers sliding up your thighs and down your panties at any given moment of the day. He'll send you dirty sex dreams in your sleep, of him eating you out, the kind of dreams that leave you on the edge of an orgasm as you awake.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Like I said, he'll use his size to his advantage.

He's always in your head. He'll implant a memory of a hard and nasty fucking he gave you at the exact wrong time just to mess with you.

He'll hide your clothes and force you to walk around naked when it's just the two of you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The man is ravenous in the sense he makes a lot different sounds. His vocal cords were burnt, so they do tire out but his voice now has a raspy, husky quality to it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Don't wear your favorite clothes around him. He'll rip them off of you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It's still there.

It still works.

It's big.

And he knows how to use it.

You'll limp the next morning if you can walk at all. You're only thought will be of him.

He does still have a deep inguinal crease to die for.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

The dude needs you in his life. You keep him from unaliving himself. In the bigger picture, you keep the part of him that is still Anakin Skywalker alive, without either of you knowing it. He is human with you. He already screwed up once, the chance to have a decent life, and he's not going to do it again. If something happens to you or your relationship, he's taking the entire galaxy with him on a tour of destruction.

Far too often, he dissolves into his Vader persona and lets himself believe that he is death personified.

In his mind, he's constantly arguing with himself, wanting to know if you're in this with him. He comes with baggage; he's got childhood trauma from being a slave, losing his mother, his mother dying in his arms, hiding his relationship with Padme, contributing to Padme's death, being a slave again, this time to Sidious and not to mention all his medical trauma. He needs to know that you know what you're signing up for.

But.

He'll never say anything about this to you and will continue to spiral to himself.

Vader is an 'action speaks louder than words' guy. Him seeing you want to jump his bones and slob his knob as often as he wants to is what he needs.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He barely sleeps, part from trauma and he's also a guy that needs to be doing something. Ready for round two? Round seven?

[moibakadesu]

Look what has arrived, it's the Aviot Milgram crossover earphones!

Let me just do a little review on them: these are my first wireless earphones ever, because I always had been an over-ear headphone user. Always hated the way modern earphones felt in my ears, like it is plugging them. Sooo, I bit the bullet with these and I was pleasantly surprised that they don't bother me at all? I guess design has come a long way.

The sound is also surprisingly nice, I was prepared to be a bit underwhelmed when it comes to base and the "fullness" of the sound, but ... it's honestly not bad? Tbf, even with my over-ear headphones I always had been on the not as expensive side, so these are also the most expensive audio output gadgets I ever got.

And of course the main event, the character voices. These easily get changed through an app on your device, everything in English if you so desire as well, which is very nice. I had to riddle around with that a bit first, but for now mine are Fuuta-coded, hah. Will most likely change around between him and Haruka each week.

Memorizing and operating them via the touch sensor will take a bit of getting used to as someone who never had earphones like these, but they are very responsive. It's also fun that you can activate the random voice lines whenever you want, even in the middle if a sing and such.

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, Day 4: Water

Two in one day! Who is she? She's powerful! I chose water for the theme of today because the idea of Spock learning to swim was irresistible. I hope you enjoy!

Also posted on AO3 here.

☆ ☆ ☆

Kirk had promised Bones that there was nothing on this planet that could possibly impact their away mission, which, upon reflection, was nearly certainly why things had gone sideways as soon as the shuttle entered the atmosphere. 

It was a milk-run day, as the bridge crew called their less eventful assignments from HQ. They were on the edges of Alpha Quadrant, taking samples of air and water and microbiological life forms from a planet that hadn’t so much as developed a millipede yet. 

The funny thing was, Kirk mused, as Spock carefully guided their dead shuttle towards the endless ocean beneath them, was that if they had decided to beam down to the surface instead, everything would have been fine.

But there was something in the atmosphere that had changed the combustion rate of the engine (“A 0.00085% chance of occurrence, captain,” Spock had said calmly as the engine stuttered into silence) and had derailed their plans for an uneventful couple of hours on the surface of the planet. They hadn’t even taken security officers. Spock’s favorite scientists were monitoring some high-touch fungi growth experiment, and Kirk knew that Spock himself was curious to study a planet so early in its development, so they had elected to go, just themselves. Like a date, Kirk thought, watching Spock expertly slow their fall with the shuttle’s emergency parachute, deploy the inflatable underlayer of the shuttle, and bring them to a careful landing on the surface of the ocean. Naturally our first date goes to hell immediately. 

Spock checked the readouts from the dashboard of the shuttle and raised one eyebrow. God, Kirk loved that eyebrow. “The composition of both the ocean and the air are astonishingly similar to Earth, captain. Certainly M-class, with a breathable atmosphere for oxygen-reliant life forms and a sodium-heavy ocean. Ambient temperature reads at ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit, and water temperature at seventy-eight. ”

“So it’s safe to go outside?” 

Spock hesitated. “Insufficient data. I am unable to determine what factor would have prevented the engine from continuing on impulse power.” 

“But I am not an engine on impulse power, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, and smiled. He pulled his comm from his belt and flipped it open. “Kirk to Scotty. How are things up there?”

“Oh, just fine, captain,” Scotty’s voice said from the comm. “Everything alright down there? Looked like your engine turned off mid-flight.”

“Something like that, Mr. Scott. Is there anything on the Enterprise’s sensors about the atmosphere that we should be aware of?”

“Negative, captain. All normal readings for an M-Class planet, according to our Mr. Chekov. Shall we beam you up immediately?”

“Oh, leave us for a moment, won’t you? I don’t think there’s anything down here to cause us too much harm.” 

“As you like, captain. I’m sure Mr. Spock would appreciate the chance to take what readings he can.” Spock inclined his head towards the comm, but if Scotty’s consideration of his desires took him by surprise, his face didn’t reveal it. 

“Alright. We’ll check in by the hour. Someone ask Bones to be on standby, if you don’t mind.” 

Spock looked up, eyebrow at high alert, as Scotty asked, “Problem, captain?”

“Not yet, Mr. Scott. But I’d hate to waste the opportunity for a swim, and better safe than sorry. Spock says the water’s warm.” 

Spock spluttered, “I said no such thing, captain,” as Scotty’s cheerful laughter burbled over the comms. “I’ll let him know, captain. Enjoy yourself.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Scott. Kirk out,” Kirk said, and snapped his comm shut with his hip as he pushed himself out of the navigator’s seat. 

“Captain, your leaps of logic never fail to astound,” Spock said, hovering a half-step behind him as Kirk shrugged out of his tunic and pants into just his undershirt and boxer briefs. 

“Come on, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, and turned to smile at him. “We’re already here. You wanted to take readings of the water. The water is perfectly warm, and it’s a sunny day. There’s not even so much as a jellyfish on this planet to sting me.”

They climbed out on top of the shuttle. The sun was warm against the black of Kirk’s t-shirt, and a light breeze from the direction he thought might have been landward ruffled the surface of the water. Spock, still dressed in science blues and even his boots, relaxed minutely in the warmth. 

“Nice weather, isn’t it?” Kirk said cheerily, and stepped towards the edge of the shuttle. It was less than five feet from the top of the shuttle to the surface of the water. He had dived from higher platforms on Earth for fun before. Spock peered over the edge of the shuttle next to him. 

“Will you join me, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked. “You’ll have to get closer to the water than this if you care to take samples.” Spock gave the water a side-eyed glance that bordered on distaste, and then it dawned on Kirk. 

“You don’t know how to swim!” 

“Vulcan is a desert planet, captain,” Spock said stiffly. He had his tricorder gripped tightly between both hands. “Swimming would have been an illogical use of a limited and necessary resource.”

“Well, this doesn’t look like a limited resource to me.” Kirk sat on the edge of the shuttle’s roof and slid down towards the inflated platform that kept the shuttle from sinking. It rather reminded him of an inner tube from his childhood. It was rough under his bare feet, and the water that splashed up was pleasantly warm. 

Spock peered down at him from where he remained on top of the shuttle. Kirk looked up at him and planted his hands on his hips. “How were you planning on taking these samples without getting in the water, Mr. Spock?”

“Starfleet standard-issue boots are waterproof, captain. I would have merely remained on the shore and taken samples from the shallowest points.” 

“Ah, but then your samples would have been half-sand, anyway. If you come down here, you’ll get water. Better for your research, I think.” 

Spock narrowed his eyes. He knew when Kirk was teasing him, but Kirk didn’t think he minded as much as he used to. “Come on, Spock,” Kirk said, and held his hand out. “I’m not going to let you drown.” 

Spock didn’t take his hand, but that didn’t surprise Kirk. He did carefully slide down the side of the shuttle to join Kirk on the inflatable, however. “I am significantly more dense than you, captain. Should I fall off and sink, you’d be better off asking Mr. Scott to beam us out.” He levered himself carefully to a seated position, cross-legged, with his back against the shuttle and his tricorder pointed at the water. For a moment, Kirk had a mental image of a child-sized Spock, sitting cross-legged in the desert, watching some sort of insect under a magnifying glass, and his heart twinged. He turned away from his science officer and dipped one foot in the water. It was warm, and slightly gritty---just like he remembered oceans on Earth. He launched himself off the inflatable and into the water. When he resurfaced, Spock was wiping water off his tricorder screen with the edge of his sleeve and frowning at him. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, laughing. “Did I ruin your readings?” 

“No,” Spock said stiffly. Kirk smiled at him and tipped his head back, allowing the air in his chest to pull him upwards so that he was floating on the water. Sunshine, and water, and a breeze---these were not normally things he missed while in space. Normally the sight of the stars around him and the comforting hum of the Enterprise’s engine were enough for him. But now, while he had the comforts of gravity and water and warmth, he found it surprisingly pleasant. So, listening to the familiar rustle of Spock doing some sort of science just a few feet away, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift.

When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, Spock had taken off his boots and rolled up his pants and was sitting with his feet dangling from the side of the inflatable into the water. Kirk paddled over and treaded water nearby. “What do you think, Mr. Spock?” 

“A curious sensation, captain, but not an unpleasant one.” Spock swung one leg forward, then the other, creating little ripples in the water. 

“I’ll teach you to swim, if you want to get in,” Kirk said. Spock hesitated. “It’s not hard, I promise. Human children can be taught to swim at only a few months old.” 

“I find that difficult to believe, captain.”

“It’s true! Something about it being a familiar environment after nine months in utero.” Spock considered this, and looked up at the sun in the sky above them. 

“I won’t let you drown,” Kirk said again. “I’m a good swimmer.” 

Slowly, so slowly that Kirk was certain that Spock was still considering the logic of submerging his desert-bred self into a body of water, Spock lifted the strap of his tricorder over his head and set it carefully aside. He tucked it against the wall of the shuttle and patted it once, like he wanted to be sure it wouldn’t fall off and float away, taking all his readings with it. Then Spock shuffled himself further towards the edge of the inflatable, peering down at the water. Kirk smiled at him encouragingly, and Spock gave one short, sharp nod. Then he shoved himself off the inflatable and dropped down into the water. 

Something that Kirk had noticed about his first officer in the two years they’d been working together was that the man was graceful beyond reason. Something about his height, his posture, or his strength made his movements seem measured, as careful as his speech was, every action intentional. Sometimes, when they sparred together or Kirk was able to see Spock fighting on missions, Kirk thought he was wasted as a Starfleet officer. He should have been a dancer instead. It was distinctly humorous, then, that the same grace did not translate to Spock in water. Spock’s head broke the surface only a second after vanishing; not even enough time for Kirk to have to dive down to grab him. His hair was a mess, matted down around his eyebrows, the pointed tips of his ears breaking through the black. He spat water out and immediately swallowed more, his wildly swinging arms created waves around them. 

“How are you doing, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked, staying clear of his arms. He could only imagine that his legs were doing the same beneath the surface, and didn’t care to be kicked. 

“Poorly, captain,” Spock said. Kirk laughed until he cried. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Spock learned quickly, and after a few minutes was floating next to Kirk, looking up at the sky. The composition of the atmosphere was different enough that the sky was not the blue of Earth but closer to a teal, a color Kirk found most pleasing. He could feel the occasional swish of Spock’s hands through the water as he adjusted his equilibrium. 

The moment was broken with the crackle of his comm, and with a sigh he pulled himself back to the inflatable. He grabbed the comm and flipped it open. “Kirk here.” 

“Sorry to ruin your party, captain, but new orders just arrived. Someone --- or something --- crossed the neutral zone. We’re to rendezvous with the U.S.S. Valiant in two days, and Admiral Archer wants to speak with you.”

“Alright, Scotty. Give us a minute to prepare and then we’re ready for beam-up.” 

“Apologies, captain,” Scotty said, and then Kirk heard the disguised laughter in his voice. “But Archer wants you right this moment.” 

“Tell the admiral---” Kirk started, 

“No can do, captain,” Scotty said, and Spock sat upright as a peal of Uhura’s laughter came through the comm as well. “Locked onto your signal, beaming you up now.” 

“Scotty, I swear to---” 

Kirk and Spock materialized, dripping wet, in just undershirts and boxers, onto the transportation pad in front of a laughing Scotty and Chekov. Kirk was standing, as he’d had the good fortune to be upright when the beam started; Spock, who had been mostly horizontal in the water, was laying flat on his back. Kirk offered him a hand, which Spock roundly ignored in favor of climbing to his bare feet while his clothing squelched around him. He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back; the dignified posture did nothing for his hair, which dripped water steadily onto his forehead and down his nose. 

“Truly, my apologies, captain,” Scotty said, wheezing. “But Archer said immediately, and we’ve already got the shuttle in a tractor beam.” 

“Please ensure the safekeeping of my tricorder, Mr. Scott,” Spock said, in funereal tones. 

“Yes, Mr. Spock,” Scotty said. “Shame to lose any of the work you did.” 

“Indeed,” Spock said. He inclined his head to Kirk. “Excuse me, captain.” He walked away, and every step left a watery footprint behind until the door to the transporter room slid shut behind him. Only when Spock was gone did Kirk allow his own laughter to bubble out. 

“I’d like to be a fly on the wall when an ensign dares to do a double-take at him, gentlemen,” Kirk said. “Now let’s go see who’s starting trouble.” 

[yanderes-galore]

hello buddy ol pal how you been

now i've been getting a huge hyperfixation on withered bonnie, but i dont really know what to request soo.

maybe both your prompt 23 and 57? if you cannot then please do tell me

Hello friendo ☺️ Sorry for your request being so late.

Sure! I already texted you to ask for a plot so I will now get to work on doing it :) I apologize if it is too short, I did struggle on the plot despite what I was given. No dead kids as usual, it's more like Security Breach.

Yandere! Withered Bonnie Prompts 23 + 57

"You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away."

"You're stuck with me, like it or not."

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Violence, Self-Aware robot, Leans platonic but can be seen as both due to how I write the FNAF characters, Bonnies sort of oblivious due to errors in his coding, Forced companionship.

Loneliness corrodes his servos like rust. Bonnie's a bot built for entertainment. He's meant to sing and dance on a stage with his guitar. Was he just meant to be a large toy?

Was he just meant to be cast into a closet forever to rot after they stole from him?

All just to make a new toy? One blue with shiny new paint?

Bonnie itched for someone to entertain... he wanted to mean something to someone again!

Then he found you...

By accident, he found you, his partially blind optics scanning you eagerly. You would be perfect! You'd be the perfect person to satiate this festering desire deep in his code.

He knows his appearance is frightening... but he promises he's friendly! He hates that you stare at him with such fear.... Sure, he stepped out of his room when he wasn't supposed to...

But he promises he won't hurt his new friend...

So why do you hide in the office? Has he done something wrong? You trick his sensors into thinking there's no one there...

But he knows you are.

You're there and he's determined to exhaust you.

After all... you'll slip up at some point. His newer model had one thing going for it... it was just as persistent as him. Bonnie also had the help of every other bot here.

The moment he sees you do something wrong... a minor slip up due to that music box or flashlight malfunction... he pounces. For a rabbit, he's a hunter, and you're his prey.

When he suddenly slips in, faceless endo staring you down... you falter. The mask fails to come down fast enough. This slight error allows him to capture his prize.

A new friend to play with.

---

You wake up with a heavy feeling in your body. You thought your life flashed before your eyes. You messed up at your job... yet the cold jaws of death itself didn't claim you.

You sit up, flinching at the sore feeling deep in your core. The room you were in was dark yet you felt cold tile underneath you. You look down, faintly seeing dark stains on your outfit. Were you injured?

You squint your eyes in an attempt to look around the room. The room was cluttered but still a little spacious. It reminded you of one of the backrooms in the pizzeria...

Wait a moment.

You move yourself onto your knees. The movement makes your head throb for a moment and your skin sting. Maybe you were cut a little?

Why were you even here?

You make a careful attempt to stand up. Stumbling momentarily you manage to stay on your feet before looking around the room. Was it still night? Where in the building were you?

*Ka-chunk*

Your thoughts are paused when you hear a metallic noise. You think something fell over before red light fills the room. Your heart stops.

What... was that?

There's more mechanical noises behind you, causing you to turn quickly. Right in front of you stands a broken rabbit animatronic. You recognize it as the old Bonnie model in the Parts & Service room. Now it was on...

Now he was staring at you...

You stay still as though the rabbit is some sort of T-Rex. Red optics of a broken endoskeleton stare you down before the bot's head tilts sideways. Fear due to not knowing where you were and being cornered by something that no doubt attacked you builds and causes your eyes to water.

You reach for the doorknob...

The knob moves, but doesn't relent...

You let out a scared cry when the rabbit jumps forward in response.

Bonnie, on the other hand, finds your response strange. He's so used to people being happy around him.... Yet here you are... his newest friend... on the brink of sobbing in front of the door he locked.

He didn't intend to scare you... his joints are just so stiff.

"You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away."

The voice of Bonnie comes out with a whining static, one glitchy and harsh on the ears. You only find yourself sobbing more before pulling and pushing on the doorknob. Bonnie makes a troubled noise in his voicebox.

"Why do you cry, friend?"

He asks, seeing your fearful eyes stare up at him.

"I just want to complete my shift and go home...."

Home... you were planning to leave? That won't do... he doesn't want to be alone again. Keeping you in this room was the better option!

In here... it's just you and him.

You'll have so much fun here... he'll have a purpose... he'll have his own chance to be in the spotlight like those plastic toys with you.

Bonnie's servos twitch and glitch, his red optics flickering momentarily before he looks between you and the door.

"You'll miss all the fun...." The rabbit whines. "I can't let you go when I have someone of my very own to play with."

"I don't like the dark... I don't like it here...!" You panic, the bot barely sensing it with his busted scanners.

"You're stuck with me, like it or not."

The bot growls with static, a metal claw dragging you deeper into the room while you cry and scream. The rabbit doesn't seem to care. All that matters is dragging you into the darkness... with him.

"What game should we play, new friend?"

[toxick-e]

I hate you desire sensor (trying to get Uncovering Secrets Framed in Gold (wants to romance the bazaar))

[thewatcher727]

Sonic X: Gotta Go Fast Again - Chapter 13: Final Fortress

Sonic X: Gotta Go Fast again is a thrilling continuation of the beloved anime, promising action-packed escapades and heartwarming moments as our heroes embark on their next chapter! Available for Reading on AO3 & FF!

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14344080/13/Sonic-X-Gotta-Go-Fast-Again

Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54991219/chapters/144944848

Preview:

The wind whipped through Sonic's quills as he stood at the forefront of the X Tornado, his vibrant eyes fixed on the horizon where dark clouds loomed ominously. With each gust, his fur rippled like waves on the ocean. Behind him, Tails manned the controls of the aircraft, his steady hands guiding the X Tornado through the turbulent skies with practiced ease. The blue Chaos Emerald, nestled securely in its housing at the front of the plane, hummed with latent energy, infusing the vessel with an extra boost of speed and agility.

They had made a conscious decision not to bring any Chaos Emeralds with them on their mission to confront Eggman, knowing all too well the risks that such valuable artifacts posed in the hands of their arch-nemesis. But for the sake of powering the X Tornado, they had reluctantly brought along one of the precious gems, a necessary compromise to ensure their mobility and effectiveness in the face of danger.

Knuckles stood steadfast on the wing of the aircraft, his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest, his expression one of unwavering determination. Despite the precariousness of their situation, he exuded an air of confidence, his steely gaze fixed on the task at hand.

Inside the cockpit, Rouge and Omega occupied the two rear seats of the X Tornado, the confines of the small space leaving the latter looking slightly cramped with his bulky frame. Yet, despite the close quarters, Rouge couldn't help but admire the sleek design of the aircraft as she settled into her seat.

"So, this is what it's like being a passenger? I like it," Rouge remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement as she surveyed their surroundings from within the confines of the cockpit.

Over the inner communication system of the X Tornado, Tails' voice rang out, cutting through the hum of the engines with precision.

"Are we close, Omega?" Tails inquired, his tone laced with a sense of urgency.

"Sensors indicate the ship is within range. Estimated time of arrival three minutes," Omega replied, his mechanical voice resonating with an air of unwavering confidence.

Knuckles lifted his eyebrows in a gesture of skepticism as he turned to Sonic.

"You sure we can trust this guy? He did try to blow us up," Knuckles voiced his concern, his tone laced with apprehension born from past encounters with their erstwhile ally-turned-foe.

Sonic, lost in a tempest of thoughts fueled by concern for Amy, slowly emerged from his reverie. Guilt gnawed at his conscience, a relentless reminder of the repercussions of his actions—or lack thereof. His mind raced with a torrent of self-recriminations; he should have been there for Amy, should have shielded her from the peril that now threatened to engulf her. Determination surged within him, a fierce resolve to right his perceived wrongs and rescue Amy from the clutches of danger, no matter the cost.

Finally, Sonic opened his eyes, turning to meet Knuckles' gaze with a steely resolve reflected in his emerald orbs.

"He hates Eggman's guts. That's good enough for me," Sonic affirmed, his voice firm with conviction. Yet, even as he spoke, his attention remained divided, a fleeting glance cast toward the passenger window. "You are on our side, right?"

"Negative," Omega's mechanical voice resonated through the cockpit, devoid of any trace of emotion as he explained his motives with cold precision. "My alignment with you is not based on friendship or camaraderie. It is solely rooted in my desire for vengeance against Eggman."

Sonic, his eyes rolling in exasperation at Omega's blunt honesty, offered a resigned shrug, his faith in their newfound alliance tempered by a begrudging acknowledgment of its inherent limitations.

"Well, at least he's honest," Sonic quipped, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Tails and Rouge chuckled softly at Sonic's remark, while Knuckles, with an exasperated shake of his head, resigned himself to the unpredictability of their tumultuous journey.

Tails cast a quick glance downward, his eyes drawn to the radar display that pulsated with urgency, its incessant beeping signaling their proximity to a colossal presence—an ominous harbinger of the formidable challenge that lay ahead. As the clouds parted, revealing the awe-inspiring sight that awaited them, a collective gasp escaped the lips of the crew, their eyes widening in astonishment at the sheer magnitude of their adversary.