#I might continue this later

[caspertheloudassghost]

I was sleeping and right before my alarm went off I dreamt of a scene where some hotshot demonic cultivator sends a message to Cang Qiong asking to spar and speak with the sects “resident expert on demonic cultivation” with the implication that it’s a peak lord and the peak lord meeting has them asking who tf that could be and tossing around various ideas while YQY and SQQ avoid each others gazes

(Unnamed shidi 1-adopted but raised with demonic ancestry; SQH-trades in demonic realm and has a secret demon lover he sneaks into the sect [HOW DO YOU ALL KNOW THAT?!]; LQG-expert on fighting demonic anything; MQF-regularly treats demonic afflictions and as such is the most researched on how it works)

In the dream I was so sure SQQ would reveal himself/declare he’d be the one to deal with it but awake I’m convinced he’d keep silent, so everyone has to go and meet the DC cuz they aren’t letting anyone go alone who knows what he plans to do

Anywho post dream territory but the day comes and SQQ is half convinced he’s about to be thrown out of the sect

DC: I’m looking for WYZ’s successor, Xiao Jiu

Everyone slowly turns to look at SQQ cuz by now everyone’s heard the sect leader call him that (insert theory that the Shen in his name was picked up soon after WYZ was killed. Like, on the way to meet the previous peak lords kinda soon and possibly stolen from one of the dead disciples)

SQQ steps forward with everyone’s gazes on him, seething (how dare he use that name) and keyed up from the last month of spiraling, deciding to out with a bang: successor! What fucking successor? To be such would imply the bastard taught me anything and even worse to suggest that I continued using it

DC: then how’d you know all his newly developed techniques? Like, you’ve definitely been seen using them when he trained you

SQQ: he didn’t train me in shit I was his lab rat he used to see if something would kill him before trying himself

Anywho, I have a lot of points that I wanna fit into this but idk where they’d go

Righteous cultivation is the growing of internal energy usually by advancing yourself in some way (physically, spiritually, mentally) and at points letting environmental energy pass around you, whereas Demonic cultivation is from siphoning of energy external to yourself, much faster but much more draining to your environment and others. Usually incompatible with human cultivation bases due to a lack of central, inborn demonic core causing most demonic cultivators to end up going insane from the patchwork of energies with no central focus.

Because of this any who stay somewhat sane gain a lot of power and recognition

WYZ theorized that if you were to steal a demonic core and consume it, you could solve the issue of energy focus. He used SJ to test this theory and found that it created a pseudo demon. The more SJ cultivated demonically, the more demonic features he presented.

SQQ has mysteriously never once gone to Qian Cao Peak. Not during his discipleship and definitely not during his tenure as peak lord. MQF hasn’t realized this cuz SQQ keeps sneaking in and fudging the papers.

His Shizun believed SJ was part demon and brought him into the sect as part test and part curiosity. They may or may not have also mildly experimented on him, but at least they helped him avoid qian cao

Eventually his Shizun came to the conclusion that he’s the only one on the peak with common sense and any strategic ability, so he became head disciple

SQQ is aware that his qi deviations are mostly due to having a demonic foundation and spending years trying to feed it with traditional cultivation. Not sure if this means he has a really tiny golden core or a really poorly fed demonic one or both at once like a half demon. I’m leaning towards both cuz of QJ Shizun experimentation

SQQ has retractable claws (he keeps them retracted and hidden under thick gloves), sharp teeth he must file down (they fall out after a year and the next set grow back sharper, during this time he almost always has his face covered by a fan), a deep-set craving for meat (and QJ serves only vegetarian food), and his ears have a slight point and rest slightly higher on his head than with human faces (he’s pretty sure they keep moving slightly higher each year to become like fox ears, like the fox core he consumed. He hates how it still affects him even without active demonic cultivation. He hides the ears with elaborate hairstyles and mourns his old body)

The other peak lords see his fan as him hiding his intentions from them and not showing his face as hiding dishonesty. The gloves are a testament to his refusal to touch what’s below him. His insistence on eating meat based foods at PL meetings emphasize his delicate constitution. His increasingly elaborate hairstyles display his arrogance for all to see. Listen they already think he’s a spoiled young lord the increased distance caused by his weird cultivation doesn’t help

SQQ wins the spar with the demonic cultivator with ease even when using only demonic cultivation techniques 15 years out of practice.

PLs are surprised to see the other DC fights exactly like SJ did when he first entered the sect (ruthless no holds barred street fighting. Daggers and concealed weapons of any kind other than spiritual swords. Plucking leaves flying flowers is used and now clearly seen as a demonic technique. SQQs fan blades are sharpened. Dust is thrown in eyes and joints are snapped and male parts are targeted.) They can easily see where SQQ must have learned it if that’s how all demonic cultivators fought (like demons). Even if they despise the lack of honor in this fight, at least it’s mutual

At some point during the fight SQQs more demonic traits are revealed (his hair coming undone to reveal his ears, sharp teeth on display, claws having long since torn through his gloves

Most demonic cultivators are self taught through trial and error and rarely have the privilege of learning to fight from masters. Additionally, due to their tendency to go insane, it’s common for most interactions between DCs to turn deadly at any point, so experienced DCs have no room for error or leniency. Fights are determined when one is trapped and begging for their life, and the other decides whether to spare them.

DC was not expecting the QJ PL to be this good, WYZs disciple or no

SQQ states that he was not WYZs disciple and reminds DC that he was the one who killed WYZ

DC asks why and SQQ explains that the three reasons he stayed with WYZ were a)blackmail, b)fear for his life, and c)to find his brothers remains and put him to rest. Imagine his surprise when he finds his brother doing perfectly well in a cultivation sect and WYZ about to kill him. Suddenly points b and c are irrelevant and point a is only removed upon WYZs death so it wasn’t a hard choice

The two walk to a nearby pavilion to discuss techniques and trade stories, with equal parts sarcasm, insults, and laughter

DCs are usually quite willing to trade less personal techniques outside of battle due to the “self taught” aspect of their cultivation

Somehow they end up talking about how brothels are safe spaces for DCs as they are great sources of information and less likely to call the Xianxia cops than inns

PLs are in the background shocked the two could go from a death match to the friendliest conversation they’ve ever seen SQQ display. YQY is salty and guilty in equal parts. LQG somehow comes to the conclusion that all of his and SQQs early interactions were actually SQQ trying to be friendly. SHQ sees this revelation play out in real time and points out that the murder attempt was a misunderstanding. QQQ is begrudgingly impressed to see prissy SQQ so willing to get down and dirty. MQF has been quietly having a crisis at the quality of his work to never realize this and comes to the realization that he’s never personally examined SQQ

MQF comes over and insists on checking over SQQ, who basically goes “fuck it. Sure” and all of my initial bullet points come to light

Everyone loses their shit finding out that SQQ is apparently famous among the DC community due to being the mad lad ex slave who not only convinced WYZ to take on a disciple, but also the one to kill that bastard.

End conclusion SQQ gains a DC friend and the other PLs agree to that as enrichment and stress relief for SQQ.

[tiagems]

Love the idea of Hobie finding out that there's a "forbidden" dimension once he joins Spider Society. For Hobie, "forbidden" is code for "secrets inside" and he makes it a point to go there. No one tells Hobie Brown where he can and can't go, not even other spidermen.

He finds 1610 to be pretty unassuming. It's bright and colorful and everything New London isn't. It's snowing but Hobie doesn't get cold easily.

It's easy to find the Spiderman of this dimension. Hobie's spider sense alerts him to something big, and he's almost crushed by a monsterous Green Goblin being thrown into a wall. He jumps away just in time to avoid the rubble.

"C'mon, Norman, ain't you tired of this dance?"

A Spiderman decked out in black and red leaps through the air and aims to kick Green Goblin in the face. A huge clawed hand catches him by the ankle, but Spiderman twists and lands a kick square in Goblin's jaw with his free foot.

Oh, he's good. And fast.

Hobie watches as Spiderman lands on a nearby rooftop and they make eye contact. His spider sense tenses in a familiar way. You're like me, it whispers.

[arecaceae175]

"Help" + Warriors and Four (I just want a continuation of the dizzy prompt)

(Continuation of Dizzy. Warnings: concussion, almost passing out, nausea, blood mention)

“Wait, wait,” Four said. He staggered to a stop, almost losing his balance under Warriors’ weight. He managed to keep them both standing, but only barely. Warriors head was hanging low against his chest.

“It’s getting dark,” Four said. The sun had dipped below the treeline and they were rapidly losing the last of the light.

Warriors didn’t respond. Four felt his labored breathing.

Four bit his lip as he surveyed the forest. They were still on the trail, but there was no telling how much longer it would be before they found the others. Warriors was barely on his feet, and Four was losing stamina. He wouldn’t be able to fight off another horde like the first.

“We should make camp,” Four decided.

“The others,” Warriors whispered.

“I know,” Four muttered, though he was reasonably certain Warriors wouldn’t hear. “We’ll have to hope they find us.”

[dead-mans-tales]

Prompt: "I'm gonna pet it" "You realise that's a dragon?" "A dragon that's about to get pet"

Deep in the mountain caves i slumbered. I did that a lot these days. My days of having the energy to take to the skies were behind me. It takes a lot for to be old by even the standards of a dragon yet that is what i was. Great and powerful still, yet tired after so many long years. I knew that this weariness will likely be my end and yet i felt no remorse.

One day during one of my many naps i was awakened by the sound of humans. As the fog of sleep lifted from my mind i paid attention to the hushed whispers. "What are you doing? We're not equipped for this!", said a man who looked to be of a middling age from what i could remember of human lifespan. "These caves were meant to be normal mountain caves, the kind to have a few goblins, maybe even a mimic. Not a gods bedamned dragon!" His voice has raised but he winces in realisation, quickly glancing in my direction. I had kept my eyes mostly closed, feigning sleep. I was curious about the spectacle before me. "Wow!", exclaimed the other who i now saw had been creeping in my direction, "it's so cool!". I felt a surprising fondness hearing the amazement in his voice and seeing the wonder in his eyes. "Cool? It will be far from cool when she turns us both to ashes!" Turning to his older counterpart the young man tilts his head in obvious confusion. "How can you tell it's female?" "Female dragons have bigger horns for defending the nest", he said matter-of-factly, nodding decisively as though that settled the matter at hand. "If you know so much about dragons then why didn't you notice that she's not a red dragon. No fire breath". I almost chuckled at the cheeky grin on the lads face. "You know what i mean!" "Oh yeah, well you know what i mean? I mean to pet it!" The old man looked agast, sputtering in shock as his words failed him. "We're so dead", he muttered in resignation as his companion sprinted in my direction, all allusions of stealth tossed aside. I figured it was about time that i stop pretending. Opening my eyes wide i looked fully upon the humans before me.

[writingwordsgayly]

I stumble into the empty and dark apartment, silently thankful for his stubbornness about that damn spare key, I make it to his bathroom, and get to work finding his first-aid kit, once I finally find it I get to work patching myself up. I'm normally more careful but I was distracted tonight, I was sloppy,and I'm lucky the only price ill be paying is the price of the cleaner I'll be using to clean this mess up. and I'm even luckier he is out of town untill next week with his family, because he haven't talked in over a year. and he probably still thinks I get winded walking up a flight of stairs.

once I bandage what I can. I begin the slow process of cleaning my stab wound, after the first pass I hear the front door open, I curse myself silently for forgetting to lock it and for being reckless about being followed. I turn the bathroom light off and try to catch a glance of who had followed me, but I see him. as beautiful as he always has been, his skin tanned with luggage in his hand. though his face is pale and his expression horrified. I attempt to take a step back but my foot slips on the blood I have decorated this poor mans floor with. I try to avoid making any noise but I'm sure I fail. I think of pretending to be lost and confused, maybe a little crazy, but the look on his face as he's standing over me tells me even before he says my name that that wont work.

"I thought the vacation ended next week" I say because I'm so smooth all the time, I clutch my side and try to sit up. he drops whatever he was holding and he moves towards me, I go to move away but my hand slips on the blood once again, he grabs my shoulder so I don't fall again

"I came back a week earlier for a meeting, what happened, what are you doing here, do I need to defend us?" I almost laugh at the last question, always my protector even when my own stubbornness is what ended our friendship. I allow him to help me lean against the cabinet behind me.

"I lost a fight because I'm stupid, I thought you were out of town and I was way closer to your apartment than mine, we should be good" I say trying to keep the pain from my voice, I lift my shirt to try and get an angle on the wound but I can't see it, the sharp breath in from Graham tells me everything I need to know though

"we need to get you to a hospital, that looks nasty" if the cops saw me get stabbed, they shot at me as I ran, if anyone wouldn't understand it would be go by the book Graham. i shake my head as quickly as I can, before I can get the words out

"I can't Graham, I-" I pause trying to figure out how to explain that I'll end up in cuffs if I set foot into the hospital with a stab wound matching their last serial killer who they saw stab a wanted vigilante.

"if it's about the money I can pay! I don't mind! just *please* that looks bad, you know I flunked out of medical school!"

"it's not about the money! I *can't* " I say again trying to stand up, Graham looks conflicted but helps me stand once I find my footing, I lift my shirt and begin to stitch myself up in the mirror but he grabs my hand

"why can't you? are you in danger? Is it that guy you were dating? what was it, Tom? you should have never dated a guy who's favourite movie i-" I put my finger over his mouth as he rambles, taking a deep breath

"it's not Tom, he wasn't violent he was just a cheater, I, I got stabbed stopping a mugging" I start small, trying to pull my hand out of his to continue, but he just pulls my hand towards him, weird choice when I have a needle in my hand, but he always did trust me too much

"wait you got mugged?!" I guess i should have seen that coming

"no not me getting mugged, Graham please let me finish this, I feel like I've lost a lot of blood" that does not comfort him.

"you're doing it wrong though! come on, please can I take you to the hospital, this is important!" I sigh and try to pull my hand away again, always the second most stubborn man in the room, second only to me

"I've done this plenty of times thank you very much" he does let my hand go at that

"how many times?! and how did you get stabbed if someone else is getting mu- wait! let me please I know you can't see it right!" I look at his face and see concern, as his eyes stay focused on my hands

"I thought you said you dropped out of medical school?" I quirk an eye brow and he laughs, in that moment I know I missed the sound

" I did, but I am a paramedic now, I just want to make sure you get the proper treatment, but if you won't go to the hospital I'm the best we got!"

I try to avoid looking at him as gentle hands do their practiced work, I see the difference in the stitches, his even and symmetrical, mine are haphazard and rushed, his gaze steady mine Flit around the apartment nervously, once she does the final stitch I can no longer hold the words on my mouth

"I'm sorry grey" he laughs and pats my arm,

"I'm glad you came here instead of trying to do it in an alley somewhere, the blood will come out, and now you get to make me dinner as payment!" I laugh along even though that's not what I'm apologizing for.

[egophiliac]

ANNIVERSARY GROOVY BOYBAND! THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD, I also love the hades reference with idia! Ik ur probably really swamped with the book 7 brain rot but I wanted to know ur thoughts. I also wanted to mention that I am so card deprived I feel like I need a replacement event to take tsumderlands place

AUGH NO I LOVE THEM. 😭 UGH now I really have to think about if I want to try pulling for Grim again. dangit. heck. I already got his little pedestal to add my guest room shrine, but...now I kinda need the boss himself...

also, the implications of it not being an OB thing, Idia can just. Do That? apparently? do you think he ever just sometimes does it by accident? what am I saying, he absolutely sometimes does it by accident.

gosh though. this event has been SO cute in general! I was wondering who'd get the focus for year 5; I could not be happier that the answer is apparently EVERYBODY. :D all the dorms get their own special songs! so many cute little scenes!!! the lowest of stakes bringing out the highest of pettiness in everyone!!!!!! it's excellent.

(also, because I will make literally anything about my diaboys...I know these events are typically sorta, let's say chronologically unmoored with regards to story. but the further implications that this takes place pre-episode 7/Malleus' Big Existential Crisis, and yet...some of these lines?)

[gotchibam]

Shiny Mimikyu, Shiny Sylveon, and Shiny Whimsicott ko-fi doodle for wanderbanana! ✨

[salarymanwaka]

[tearystarz]

Drew lil scene from @missylink 's dbh fanfic she's currently writing >:3 will link when published!!🫶

[imaroyalmess]

An Apprentice’s (Unofficial) Guide to House Garments

based on @energ00n 's apprentice AU! (i'm obsessed with the concept of apprentices making up garment rules)

Wc: 2.1k

The datapad—an older model with discolored spots, showing where servos touched its framing—is the first thing Orion Pax’s optics land on as he walks into his new room. Orion snatches the datapad and tilts his helm as he reads the title over again. A peek at the contents shows that it begins with Hey newbie followed by three exclamation glyphs (an overabundance of any glyph, if you asked Orion).

Orion glances up and catches his own gaze in a mirror hanging in front of him. It’s strange, seeing two sheer fabric pieces delicately flowing over the hard metal of his arms—he’s hesitant to move his arm joints in fear of tearing it. That, as well as the jewelry occupying the space where his cog would be creates a vision that’ll take some getting used to.

He pries his optics away and down to the datapad again, dermas pinching as his processor whirrs. Prima explained to him how to care for his garment personally and what if, since the datapad looks old, the data was outdated? No, safer to follow Prima’s instructions and not confuse himself.

Orion places the datapad to the side and sets off to explore his new home.

~

Hello newbie!!!

Congratulations to you and your new position! There’s so much you need to know before you get started. If you wanna make friends, then you’ll wanna keep reading, little mech!

It’s most important that you know about your House garment. No, no, not how to wash oil stains out of it (though that’s good to know!), I’m talking about the meaning behind what you do with it.

Lucky for you, I’ve compiled a list for your easy reference! Learn them well, little mech!!

DO: Wear your House garment at all times! I’ve been told it’s respectful to the Primes. Also helpful so we can tell each other apart. Usually only an apprentice’s special somebot sees them without it! Even then, maybe not.

~

D-16 has always been a stickler for the rules. It’s structure—it’s security. He can’t afford to slip up and never lets that resolve waver. So how exactly did he let pretty blue optics lure him into a cargo hold that supposedly has a passage leading into the (highly forbidden) archives? D-16 isn’t sure.

“Orion Pax,” D-16 hisses, “you idiot, there’s no way—”

Orion hushes him with a digit to his dermas and a wink. D-16 lowers his voice. “Why did you drag me into this?”

Orion pries the cover away from the passage and lowers it to the ground, a soft clank echoing. “I need you to keep watch for me, ‘kay? It’s a tight squeeze for me so you definitely wouldn’t fit.”

D-16 frowns, a retort fully prepped in his processor, but then Orion unclips his garment and D-16’s vocalizer short circuits. For a horrifying and long nanoklik, only static emits from his voice box. “Wh–Pax, what are you doing?!”

“I told you.” Orion rolls his optics. “Barely enough room in there and I can’t risk ripping my clothes up. Prima would offline me.”

He slips the sheer fabric over his helm and presents it to D-16 with splayed servos. Primus, help him. It takes D-16 exactly 1.46 kliks to reboot and shake his helm vehemently. “No? I…you want me to—”

“It’s just my garment,” Orion states, playful but also firm in a way that says I don’t have time to argue. “I’m not asking you to do anything else. Keep it safe?”

Just my garment. If Orion’s antics don’t get him expelled, his cluelessness would. However, he’s correct about one thing, and it’s that their time is running out.

D-16 half-snatches half-cradles the garment, careful not to let the ends touch the ground. With a deep intake D-16 says, “Go. Before they spot us.”

Orion grins, scrambling his way through the crawl space, leaving D-16 to listen for passing mechs. The fabric feels smooth between his digits.

~

DON’T: touch another apprentice’s attire, especially(!) without their permission. A passing touch may be an accident but deliberately grabbing is almost like a kiss!!! Don’t kiss or put your dermas on their clothing either. That has…intimate implications I won’t discuss here.

~

Orion loves watching Megatronus Prime spar with D-16. The size difference between the two could be laughable, if it weren’t for the ferocity that overtakes D-16’s faceplate and the corrections Megatronus throws out to him. Multiple times, Orion’s systems remind him to function as he watches—his friend is a vision under his Prime’s tutelage, all gritted denta, radiating optics, and arcing gauntlets.

Once satisfied, the looming Prime kneels before his apprentice and speaks lowly to him. Orion’s audials are unable to pick up what’s said but the open and hungry way D-16 receives his feedback sates him. Megatronus returns to his full height, nods to release D-16 from his training for the day and Orion perks up at the gesture.

“D!” Orion calls. His friend pads over to what’s becoming Orion’s usual spot, a barely-there smile on his dermas.

“You been waiting long?” D-16 asks, setting his practice spear against the wall.

Orion shakes his helm. A white lie—he’s been there longer than he should’ve but it’s not his fault that watching D-16 fight is so fascinating. “What were you learning today?”

D-16 dutifully launches into the intricacies of battle strategy and close-ranged combat. Orion props his helm up with his loose fist as he listens—mostly listens, at least. That task becomes difficult as the jargon grows thick and D-16’s broad servos capture Orion’s attention as they move in small motions.

An idea pops into his processor. “Why don’t you show me?”

A pause, then D-16 scoops up his practice spear, muttering, “It’ll look stupid without an opponent.”

Orion hops over the half-wall that’s been separating them and bounces over to stand in front of his friend. “I’m right here though.”

“No,” D-16 said immediately. “It’s not safe.”

“C’mon, D,” Orion teases. “I trust you.”

D-16 cycles his optics and Orion’s lopsided grin grows. “It’s not about that. You don’t know what you’re doing and even if it’s not real, I could hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Orion states, full of confidence.

“I could,” D-16 argues. “Then Prima would offline me for harming his one and only apprentice—”

Orion begins to circle D-16, close enough to reach but far enough that he could evade it. “I know what you’re doing, Pax. It’s not going to work.”

“Is it not?” Orion teases as he keeps in D-16’s blindspot, his friend calmly trying to catch sight of him again. He takes a chance while behind him, dashing out and giving the purple fabric of D-16’s House garment a good tug.

“Pax,” D-16 chastises. Yes, it’s a sparkling-like move, Orion knows and does not quite care. He does it again, giggles erupting from his vocalizer as D-16’s calmness dissipates.

Orion manages to tug at D-16’s garment twice more before D-16’s arm snaps out, captures the joint above Orion’s servos, and crowds him against the nearby wall. The yellow of D-16’s optics blaze. Orion notices how close they are, how his friend’s weight is the only thing that keeps him upright, and he grins.

D-16 growls, “Orion.” And honestly? Orion isn’t sure what’s going through his processor when his reaction to hearing D-16 say his name is to bite down on the gathered cloth by one of the gauntlets he’d been admiring earlier.

D-16 drops him. His aft hits the ground with a rough clank and Orion cries out, “hey!”

But D-16 isn’t listening. His optics are focused on the spot where Orion’s intake fluid darkened cloth’s already deep purple. D-16’s expression is horrified.

“Oh scrap, D.” Orion scrambles to his pedes. “It should go away, right? I’ve never—D! Where are you going? Wait!”

Before Orion can say another word, D-16 runs—no, sprints—out of the practice arena, leaving Orion there alone wondering what he’d done wrong.

~

DO: keep your garment clean! It’s polite and respectful, blah blah blah, you should know this. But! What you don’t know is that leaving a mark on another apprentice’s garment, accidental or not, is a serious offense! You tear it, that’s a show of disrespect to the apprentice and their House and you might have to fight them. On the other servo, if you, say, put a small decal on the cloth, you’re effectively marking that mech as your own. Same goes for intake fluid, though that just tells everyone that you and that bot are...together in a different sense. Catch my drift? 

~

“I’m sorry, D.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know but I made you upset, didn’t I?”

“...no. You didn’t.”

~

DON’T: wear another House’s garment!!! Unless you’re ready to be conjunxes. And I’m serious! It’s saying your devotion to that mech is equivalent to your devotion to your Prime. Ask yourself, little mech. Would you swear undying fealty to them? Would you choose that mech over your Prime? No? Then don’t do this.

(Okay, I might be a little overdramatic, but seriously, don’t.)

~

What fascinates Orion is how different the textiles feel from one another. He’s read about the arts and asked on multiple occasions to speak with the bot who made his House clothes because he must know more. Orion shifts the material of D-16’s garment between his digits, reveling in the weight and watching the fabric fold as he moves.

He drapes a length of it over his arm and turns to D-16, who’s dozing in and out of a light rest cycle. “Do you think purple would suit me?”

“Hm?”

Orion nudges his friend with the bend of his arm still wrapped in material. This time, D-16 rouses, even if only a little. “Your House garment, silly. How does it look?”

“Fine,” D-16 says.

“Just fine?” Orion complains. “You’re the meanest friend ever. You won’t even let me try?”

D-16 resettles his helm. “Not mean. ‘M honest.”

Orion shoves his shoulder plate, only serving to further tangle himself. “Your honesty is mean.”

“Would you prefer a more elaborate answer?”

“Not anymore,” Orion mutters. This time, he lets D-16 rest as he lays the garment over his lap and smoothes out the wrinkles he’s made. 

~

Congrats!!! Now you’re fully equipped to take on the social terrain in the House of Primes!!

In case you didn’t read all that, basically, keep to your own business and every other bot will keep to theirs. You’re lucky you have me to help you out with this because I didn't have anyone explain it to me and I broke about every rule before an apprentice told me. I was so embarrassed!!! No need to thank me though, little mech, whoever you may be. Just have fun! Be responsible! Follow these rules!!! I promise, you’ll have a better time if you do. Byeeee ;)

~

D-16 might cease to function—if he hasn’t already. On this particular solar cycle, Orion had dragged D-16 into another one of his schemes and deemed his quarters the meeting point. The door slid open, Orion welcomed him inside, and D-16’s optics landed on a datapad that made his spark drop.

That thing isn’t supposed to exist—not physically, anyway. How did it get here? How in Primus’ glory does Orion have it?!

“D?” Orion cuts through his panic.

“Have you…” D-16 can barely force his vocaliser to say the words. “Have you read it?”

Orion raises an optical ridge. Confused but fond. “Read what?”

A digit points at the datapad, though D-16 didn’t consciously give the command for it to do so. “That.”

“Oh that?” Orion ambles over to the offending object. “It was here when I moved in. Weird right? Maybe Prima put it here in case I forgot what he told me?”

D-16’s joints creak with the effort it takes to stride over and pick up the datapad. “You don’t need it though, do you?”

Please say no, D-16’s processor screams.

Orion laughs, though his confusion melds into concern as well. “No, I guess not…did you need it? You can take it, if you do.”

And D-16 then and there wishes Orion Pax had chosen a better friend, one who he deserves. Except, D-16 is also selfish and cold in ways where Orion is warm—he doesn’t wish that, in actuality. (It feels kinder to say that he does. Orion deserves kind.)

“Thanks,” D-16 says for lack of any explanation that wouldn’t be a flat-out lie.

Then Orion smiles at him, as he always does, and pats him on the chest plate, right next to his empty cog slot, right on his garment. D-16 musters a quirk of his dermas and tucks the datapad away from Orion’s prying optics. It’s hard to feel guilty about it, when Orion seems so content and his servos make his garment so warm.

~~~

A/N: tysm for reading! i'm sorry if i got any details wrong, i read all the comics over again to make sure i got it all correct but just in case i missed something! please check out the main comic if you haven't already. the worldbuilding, writing, and art style are all stunning!

[abylou]

my shaylas 💔💔

[queewp]

bill wanted to see Ford fly, not fly with him, smh

bill MIGHT have a fear of heights

[haveihitanerve]

Gotham Protects Her Own

“Gotham protects her own.” Bruce had whispered to him once, in a, at the time, not so rare moment of affection, cradling dick to his chest as they looked over his city. Their city. Batman and Robin. Dick had believed him, of course, but he hadn’t really felt it. Not until he had stood at the bats side for the second year in a row, and his cape had fluttered. Dicks cape had never fluttered while he was standing. Running across the rooftops? Sure. Jumping over a chimney? Most definitely. But just standing still, no movement? It had never happened. Bruce’s did, from the very beginning Bruce’s cape had flown behind him, flapping with grace in the wind that was not there. But dicks hadn’t. But now… Bruce smiled down at him, pride lining every line in his face, before he took off across the roof, a challenge and a test at the same time. Dick chased after him, and for the first time since he had become Robin, he flew. His feet barely touched down, cushioned by the roofs, by shadows, and he laughed, wild and bright and free, and Bruce joined him, laugh deep and rich and full. Dick belonged to Gotham now, the city had laid her claim on him, and as Batman and Robin flew across the city, Dick could hear a new laugh join them, light and happy and feminine, delighted by their delight, their acceptance. Gotham protects her own, and Dick Grayson-Wayne, the first Robin, had earned that right, that protection, with his leaps and jokes and belief in Batman, in a belief in the city, in the belief that it could be better. 

Gotham protects her own. Catherine Todd had murmured to him once, late one night, a bruise blossoming on her cheek, eyes heavy from drugs. She was close to death, Jason could feel it practically wafting off her, and he didn't think much of her last words, a hazy drugged hallucination, slurred speech. But then she had passed and Jason had left, choosing the street over his father and then he had understood. People came looking for him, naturally, even his father ventured out, but shadows seemed to envelop him, the streets opened to his footfalls, and he always found a safe place to sleep, never waking with his things stolen or suddenly kidnapped. Jason could feel the city, his very lifeblood, could hear her music in her traffic, felt her song in the earthquakes. Gotham cradled him, sheltered him, and when the time came, pushed him to a left unattended Batmobile, tempting him to steal the tires. For the first time, Jason doubted his city, hated her for sending him into a trap. But then he became Robin, and Gotham squealed in delight, and Jason watched in awe as Bruce flew, as Gotham made his cloak billow, as she nurtured her prodigal son. Batman had gotten injured, once, badly enough that he had struggled with his grapple line, and it had snapped. Jason had screamed, lunging for him, but it was too late. Before he could cry over the dead body of his mentor, he found Bruce at the bottom of the building, not much worse for wear at all. Gotham had cradled him, shadows leaping to cushion his fall. Jason had laughed with glee, rushing Bruce home as quickly as possible, and something had brushed his cheek, a faint kiss against his forehead. Gotham protects her own and Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin, had been born into that right, that protection, and felt her city pound through his body like blood, feeding his soul. 

Gotham protects her own. Tim had seen the slogan on a Wayne Enterprise billboard once, when he had been seven, an ad campaign promoting insurance and helpful housing. It had become a sort of mantra for him, something he whispered under his breath every time his father made a snide comment about Tim lacking proper talent or social skills, after every call his parents declined, after every fight that had him biting his lip to stop the tears and debate running away. Gotham protects her own. Became his lifeline, his mantra, a promise of a better life. It wasn't anything he ever believed, until he finally worked up the courage to approach Bruce Wayne about the secret. Tim slipped on the Robin uniform for the first time… And something inside him settled. A woman's voice in the back of Tim’s head squealed. But as he raced over the rooftops, finally at Batman's side as he always dreamed to be instead of a few feet behind, snapping pictures, his cape dancing with the wind, his feet hardly touching down, that mantra, that false belief of hope, of a better life, became truth. Gotham protects her own, and Tim Drake-Wayne, the third Robin, had believed in that truth his whole life, wishing with every fiber of his being that she would protect him, and she finally had. 

Gotham protects her own. David Cain had warned her once, telling her great stories of the city with air of midnight black, of water a putrid green, and of a people a hardy and tough. It hadn't been a compliment, just another obstacle she would need to overcome to fulfill her future missions. She had believed him, of course, but… she had never truly known what it meant. Not until she had stumbled into the city, hurt, bleeding, afraid, and she had felt that… otherworldly power. Reaching for her. Its tendrils soft and kind, like a mother, shadows stretching across her, shielding her, as the League prowled the streets. It wasn't until she saw him. The Bat. And his little Bird, brutal efficiency and yet mercy in every action, wasn't until she saw how Gotham cradled them, lifted them, helped them to fly. Gotham had been more accepting to her than she had thought. Maybe because she hadn't hurt her children. Maybe because she knew her pain. Maybe because Cass had been so afraid. But whatever the reason, when Cassandra Cain-Wayne took to the streets, a proud, blazing Bat on her chest, her cape billowing behind her, Gotham sang. 

“Gotham protects her own!” Arthur Brown had screamed once. It had been in a fit of rage, followed by the sounds of windows crashing and tables smashing against the wall. He had been angry, livid even, the sound of his footsteps heavy and hard on the floor as he stormed around, pissed that Batman was unreachable for him, untouchable, protected by the city he claimed to do the same to. Steph knew the truth in the words, had been protected by them her whole life, finding a window open right when her father got home, the closet door unlocked miraculously after her father had locked her up, alleyways opening for her to escape through when bigger kids picked on her, or the cops chased her. And it happened now, as Arthur Brown came storming for her, rage and malice and every evil intention written across his features. Steph could feel that tug, that indescribable feeling of home, and she took a step back, melting into the shadows as she fled, fled her home, fled her father, fled his wrath and everything wrong with the world. She settled on the roof, the way she always did when he got like this, and waited, as she always did. For it to end. For him to stop. It was that night that she saw him for the first time. Steph had heard of him, of course, the Batman was infamous throughout Gotham by now, but she had never seen him in person. Never watched his work. It was at Bethany’s house. Bethany’s father, Vincent, was screaming again. The way Arthur was. But Gotham, Gotham didn't protect Bethany the way she did Steph. Or maybe Bethany just didn't listen. But Batman.. Batman listened. Batman protected. Steph watched, wide eyed, as he jumped through the window, as he grabbed Vincent by the throat and slammed him against the wall, snarling in his face. Steph watched, hands clutching her teddy, wondering whether she would rather risk her father than this demon. But he stopped. Paused. Threw Vincent to the ground in disgust, unconscious, and turned to Bethany. Beth had stopped moving, the way she always did when Vincent got the way he did, dissociating so she wouldn't feel his hands on her. Steph didn't think it worked, but it was something. Batman bent down, gentle, slowly, a few feet away, extending a hand to Beth. Steph couldn't hear what he said, couldn't see his face, but Beth blinked at him. She blinked, and she walked closer, slowly. And Batman… Batman held her, held her until she was crying, held her through her tears and wiped her eyes and rubbed her back, held her until she was asleep without nightmares, and carried her to bed, tucking her in gently. Steph didn't know how long she sat there, watching as he cared for this little girl, forgoing the Bat Symbol in the sky, and his anger, for her. Gotham protects her own, Steph swore as she watched him drop from the window the same night, flitting away on shadows only she could see. Gotham protects her own, and she would protect Gotham. She would mold herself after the Bat, and help. 

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Afterlife, But It's A Bar

[discontinued, feel free to add on]

It was weird. Not wrong, alarming or dangerous type of weird. Not good or comforting either.

Just plain weird.

It all started a few days ago, on Wednesday, to be exact. On a rare occasion, Jason was patrolling outside of his territory ("cover for me, I have a date" my ass, Replacement), and he spotted something out of place. A neon green, almost toxic colored sign that read "Afterlife".

Honestly, who names a place like that? But judging by the placement and design, it was a bar, and Jason could almost appreciate the irony. Maybe it had a slogan along the lines of "our drinks will send you beyond the lines of life and death" or something. But at the same time, it could be interpreted as "alcohol can and will be the death of you," which, technically, is not the best PR campaign for a bar.

Jason decided to visit the place anyway. He was curious about the implied death joke, sue him.

Of course, he didn't visit immediately. He was still on patrol, and he just heard the sound of gunshots to the west. Not to say that the place was quiet.

(Oddly quiet for a bar in Gotham, now that he thinks about it)

Anyway, the next day, he went there not as Red Hood but as Jason Todd, an ordinary civilian who decided to grab a beer in the evening. Only to not find the place.

He couldn't have just miss it - he remembered the street, he knew the building, he was absolutely fucking sure where the "Afterlife" should have been. He searched the whole block nonetheless, and then proceeded to check the whole area, but to no avail.

Damn, it seems like he can't get to the afterlife both literally and- the other literally. Yeah, he might be having too much fun with the oddly chosen name for the nonexistent bar.

It didn't exist on the maps and internet either. At this point, Jason was contemplating the idea of it being a hallucination or a dream. He even checked the recording on his helmet from Wednesday night, but the whole time he was in the area, the video was filled with interference and static.

Weird. Slightly suspicious, but Red Robin, who's been patrolling the same area for weeks before him, never reported any interferences, so it probably had something to do with his helmet and not the area in general.

On Thursday night, he purposefully went there right after patrol. And the nonexistent bar suddenly existed again! The same neon green sign, the same quiet street around it.

Seriously, what is this mysterious fuckery?

Now, if he was a Bat, he would have reported this to others and investigated, lurked around in shadows, and approached with caution. If he was a Robin, he would have still reported and then straight up marched in there and saw how it goes.

Alas, he was Red Hood, so he decided to watch for the bar guests and see just who the hell goes in and out of the place.

And there was the next weird thing.

No one was going in or out. Jason sat there for a whole hour, and not even one person entered or left the building. Despite the muffled sounds of music, voices and laughter coming from the place.

The final kicker was the fact that after some careful questioning and dropping hints, Jason found out that no one except him ever saw the "Afterlife"'s sign. No one's even heard of it, both the Batclan and the Gothamites.

The fuck?

So he did the next logical thing. He brought the smartest member of the Bats with him. Tim owed him anyway. Might as well use it now instead of later.

Friday night proved two things: one, Tim was still his favorite to work with out of all the bats and birds, not questioning anything as to why Jason is asking him to check out a bar, and two, Jason just might be going insane.

Tim couldn't see the "Afterlife" even when Jason pointed at the sign from not further than ten feet. The irony of the stipid name was not even amusing anymore.

Tim didn't ask any questions after this experiment, and Jason didn't want to admit that he is losing the grip of reality, so they ended up simply parting their ways after. Can the Pits cause brain damage? More damage than there was in the first place, that is.

Now that he thinks about it, the color of the sign is really similar to the Lazarus waters. He should have noticed it sooner, but in his defense, who would look at the bubbling pool of toxic waters and think, "Oh, that would make a dope neon sign"? Apparently, the owner of the "Afterlife".

The color might be just a coincidence.

...no, in the world he lives in, coincidences like this just don't happen. Besides, Jason doesn't believe in shit like fate or destiny.

So, here he is, on Saturday night, standing in front of the door to the Afterlife. It would have been funny if it wasn't so weird. What's even more weird is that the closer he gets to the door, the less nervous he feels, like the place is radiating some calming aura. Wait, no, scratch that, Jason is so not calling it a calming aura for God's sake. That sounds just like those homemade witches with their crystals, tarot readings, and whatnot.

He's going to call it... tranquilizer vibes. Yeah, that's better.

He takes a deep breath, getting ready to see whatever it is on the other side, pushes the door open, and walks into the bar.

...

Whatever he's been expecting to see, it's not this.

[quaintcy]

daud wip i might never finish

[starflungwaddledee]

i wanted to do a piece to commemorate all the amazing waddle dees who entered the @kirbyoctournament this year! as starstruck is the last dee standing in the mainline tourney, that's a big legacy to carry, but she's doing her best...!

if you want to help her keep fighting the fight for the Humble Waddle Dee against all these super cool knights, dark matters, gods, and ancients, you can vote for starstruck here!

additionally with the first round of second chance voting now open, all these dee's are back for more, and you can give them your vote in the second chance bracket!! sadly a few of them are up against each other, but from top to bottom, here are links to vote for your favourites!

galaxia // ideena // pip // fondue // starry // mimi // daisy // rainbow // wadhat // wridee // stellar // rope mf // keyper // seam // lemon // flower // and of course starstruck being squished to within an inch of her life there 😂

character credits, from top to bottom!

galaxia @centellazul // ideena @tazmilygray // pip @emmyp0ps // fondue @moonmacabre01 // starry @staring-at-a-blank-pagee // mimi @clownie-rainbow // daisy @starrygoober // rainbow @cali-kabi // wadhat @iwontusethis255 // wridee @mxmanynames // stellar @drawscutestuff // rope mf @mint-termsandconditions // keyper @bloodiegawz // seam @cloud-the-forgotten // lemon @snazzyladreal // flower @eliastheownerof0axolotls

i hope you all enjoy it!! best of luck to everyone and their wanyas in the tourney and second chance!! 💖🙏