#I'm being vulnerable with you right now

[hell0mega]

hmmmm

[sysig]

Blind side (Patreon)

[hermanthesturgeon]

Anyways don't think about how much Jean Moreau just wants to be loved and cared for and the heartbreaking capacity he still has for love and tenderness and care DESPITE IT ALL. Whatever you do, don't think about it!!

[vaguely-concerned]

just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2

[yanoharuhito]

grey really fucked me up beyond belief i am SO insecure about relationships at this point

[soubiapologist]

wait okay if yun mentioned mimuro on fanbox then logically speaking that means one of two things;

she read my scary weird fanbox fanletter and has put two and two together that the weirdo requesting mimuro art on skeb is probably also the person who mentioned being a fan of his on fanbox and is thusly subscribed to her fanbox and wants to throw this poor lunatic a treat (or that just based on the skeb request) or

she's really just out there thinking about him and wants to let people know regardless if they're That Weirdo or not

because there's literally zero reason for her to mention him since he's like a tiny bit character and she hasn't even mentioned him in (checks calendar and throws up) over a decade so either she did that for/because of me #MYIMPACT or she's literally thinking about my little freak boy for like. fun.

[sinnershavesoulstoo]

I look at you and it hurts My bones are tender, my heart is raw, my soul aches I waste the day hoping for more time to be with you To be in your presence, to feel the warmth of your body when we're close, to gently brush up against one another unexpectedly.

My bones are tender, my heart is raw, my soul aches I waste the day imagining a future with you To be held, and loved, and cherished, to know what safety truly is when we're alone, to be intertwined - not just with our bodies, but our souls.

My bones are tender, my heart is raw, my soul aches I waste the day replaying conversations with you To be told you'd be lost without me, to hear such soft and sincere praise when we're laughing, to wish you'd say more, mean more.

My bones are tender, my heart is raw, my soul aches I waste the day breaking my own heart, because I'm in love with you. To be alone, and hopeless, and scared, to realize this is all one sided after all, to lose the last bit of hope I held onto and to finally fall apart.

[mad-hunts]

@ofgctham sent🔪 to walk in on my muse standing over a dead body (for bruce).

betrayal is one of the worst things to have to deal with, barton decided, as he sat with his back flush against one of the cold bathroom walls. it tears you up inside — squeezes your heart in a vice-like grip in a way that makes it seem like it's never going to let it go, and that you were stupid to have trusted anyone at all. barton would know because that is exactly how he felt right now sitting next to violet. he thought that they were friends, for they'd known each other almost a year now. but it was kind of funny how quickly their relationship was destroyed at the first sign that barton wasn't all that he seemed; violet turning into something of a cornered animal, willing to do anything to get out of a situation when she got a text message from someone she used to know. and this was only to find out that barton was hurting them for her.

barton tried to explain it to violet in a way that made sense to him. but of course, she didn't get that he deserved to die for what he did to her. violet was actually scared of the concept. of him, and whenever barton looked into her eyes then, all of the affection she'd felt for him was gone just like that. so much for being the most 'perfect, understanding friend,' as violet almost immediately declared that he needed help and she was going to call the police. needless to say, after hearing that, barton wasn't too pleased. from there, things just continued to escalate. one moment barton was telling violet that he didn't want to hurt her and the next he was trying to plunge a screwdriver he found through her gut. though that same screwdriver was wrenched out of his hands by her and in desperation, violet sunk it into his side whenever barton had taken to choking her out.

and that hurt like hell. she took off from there into the communal bathrooms of the dingy motel they were in to try to hide from him; but barton had found violet despite him leaving a very visible blood trail everywhere he stepped. he killed her by smashing her head into one of the sinks in a rage, it seemed, which he partially remembered and partially didn't. barton's eyes looked like just a bunch of veins with how bloodshot they were from crying while he bit down on his sleeve to keep himself from screaming out due to the pain of pulling out the screwdriver. if someone didn't at least report the blood they'd seen on the pavement out there leading to the bathroom, it'd be a damn miracle. but barton didn't even care if he got caught right now.

it really was a bad idea to take out that screwdriver, for he couldn't even stand now without his legs feeling like jelly and collapsing in on him. but he was able to do it while hanging onto the same bloody sink he'd used to kill violet. her body was right below him, and all barton could think of while looking at her was, why did things always turn out so badly for him? (maybe it was because he deserved it.) he could hear someone's heavy footsteps rush into the bathroom then. and with a weak chuckle, barton turned to face him. the batman. ❝ you're late. she's already gone. ❞ his knuckles turned white with how firmly he was gripping the sink to hold himself up.

❝ i liked her a lot, you know. she was my friend. but something happened, and i just... lost control. ❞ barton cleared his throat while tremors racked his body. looking down at her now made him suddenly feel very hot, probably from all of the adrenaline running through him, ❝ god's, i can't believe i killed her. ❞

[bravevolunteer]

michael brainrot but i am just too eepy to articulate any of it properly

[lucyvaleheart]

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[erabundus]

it sounds strange, but i just really enjoy the fact that ren is a deeply flawed person — not only in the ways that are immediately apparent, but in subtler ways, too.

[dontstandmedown]

Just started watching hannibal and i dont see what this guy is doing wrong. as far as i can tell he's just a gay man who loves to cook fancy meals for his friends

[familiaanteomnia]

Nathan flicked the metal lighter open, closed and kept brushing his thumb ever lightly against it’s starter. Campus was quiet at this hour of the night. So he didn’t have to play at his part, facade crafted over the years. Not that he really knew what he was without it. But after a moment he lit up; gracefully hopping up on the edge of the fountain. A tiny flash of sudden; jump in the fountain- ignored. Instead he favored to close his eyes; inhale and hold it in. For his first lap around the fountain. No clue what time it was, or how much passed as he continued to do so until he was finished. Hopping off, shoe crushing it underneath and bending to pick it up- put it in a small mints tin he kept on him. Only when he started humming did he realize he wasn’t alone. Yet he couldn’t force himself to slip back into his role. So instead he shrugged his shoulders. “Sooo how long have you been in the vicinity.” Could guess it had been a little while; if they’d been watching especially if they saw the dare it be said, pretty normal behavior- that might be mistaken for him being human. That joke didn’t even land inside his head so he didn’t allow it slip out loud.

[musical-chick-13]

I want to sing through some Weird Emotions, which has the effect of me wanting to share art, but also no one perceive me ever.

[artekai]

Rebooting systems…

All systems online. Thank you for your patience.

When I come to, the first sensation I register is the low temperature of the room, followed by the soft sounds of breathing from a human sitting in front of me. As I open my eyes, my facial recognition software nearly instantly identifies the individual as Fross van der Meer, roboticist, member of Far Zenith, age 968, pronouns he/him. The combination of abundant black hair, freckles on his pale skin, shiny blue eyes, and youthful appearance, makes him easily stand out against the other thirteen faces in my Far Zenith database.

Huh. Thirteen faces. Something feels… off about that number. My first instinct is to scroll quickly enough to cover at least forty more faces within microseconds, but there are only fourteen Zeniths in total?

His voice interrupts my thoughts. “Tell me if you can hear me.”

I nod. “Affirmative.”

He lifts one hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“Good.” Fross is giving me a flat, but piercing stare. “Who are you?”

“I am FZ-0102.” I recite. “Originally manufactured in 2053 by Faro Automated Solutions as  part of a venture into defense bots that could realistically pass as human for undercover missions, I was repurposed in 2062 to become a multiservitor to Far Zenith.” I then smile a little. “But I simply call myself Carlos.”

“Don’t call yourself anything. You are a machine.” He says, tapping something into the holo screens behind him. He then looks back at me. “Who am I?”

“Fross van der Meer.” I say. “Roboticist, member of Far Zenith, age 968, pronouns he/him.”

He looks away at that, a pained smile on his face. “God, don’t remind me of how old I am…” He laments. “I’m biologically in my twenties.”

I make a mental note not to bring up Fross’s age again.

“Now, save this in your maintenance logs.” He says, glancing at the holoscreen to read from his notes. “Major hardware repairs. Minor improvements to visual stimuli reception. Minor improvements to language processing skills. Cleanup of technical and personal memory drive, spanning years 2065 through 3012. Did you get all of that?”

“Yeah.” I say, shifting in my seat. That explains the gap in my memories… It does feel like all this time has passed in a blur — simultaneously dragging out for forever and flying by in seconds, leaving no trace behind. The lack of memories does feel uncomfortable, even though I’m sure I must have requested it… So I dare to ask. “Any particular reason for the memory wipe?”

“It would defeat the purpose if I told you, wouldn’t it?” Fross smiles at me, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, before he turns back to his holoscreen. “You were long overdue for a hard reset anyways. It should help keep your sentience levels within legal limits.”

Like I’m supposed to believe that Far Zenith gives two shits about legality now. In space. But, then again, I suppose humans have always been scared of the things that they created themselves. Even taking into account their shields and their immortality treatments, if I developed sentience, I would be considered a threat… Which is understandable, I guess. I’d probably blow all of the Zeniths’ heads clean off, if my programming weren’t stopping me.

Not like it matters, anyway… I’ll never be sentient. That’s why I’ll never belong with humans, why they’ll never accept me, and, most importantly, why they might never love me back. I can’t help the junk I was built with, no matter how much I want to.

“What is it like?” I mutter, hands on my lap and eyes on the ground, while Fross taps away at the holoscreen. I then tilt my head, adding, “Being sentient, I mean.”

“Sentience is a curse.” Fross says, brows knitting. He turns to fix me in a glare as some sort of warning. “You’re better off the way you are now, so don’t get any ideas. Run full diagnostics for me.”

I do as I’m told. It takes a bit under 0.8 seconds. “All systems operational.”

“Good. There’s only one last thing I want to check.” Fross looks up at me again. “What is your primary directive?”

“My primary directive is to protect Fross van der Meer’s life and safety,” I recite, though the words tasting unfamiliar on my tongue, giving me a bit of pause. “With the caveat that I cannot give the rest of Far Zenith any reason to think that my directive has changed at all.”

Man. That’ll be a pain in the ass. Non-sentient beings are notoriously bad liars, according to humans. But if I fail to perform up to standards, Far Zenith will surely deactivate me and tear me apart for scrap they can reuse...

Oh shit.

I lunge forward as soon as I catch a glimpse of a scalpel in Fross’s hand, as he pulls his arm back and attempts to stab himself on the forearm. Thank god I stop him just in time — and, before I know it, I’m holding his wrists tightly, leaning over him, my face only centimeters away from his.

His eyes widen, lips parting slightly as he stares into my own eyes, as if he hadn’t expected me to react so quickly.

“God.” He mutters. “You feel almost human, but you’re so strong…” A ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, and I can physically feel it when his eyes start scanning me all over, really taking in my appearance like he hadn’t before. “Despite everything, you’re still a marvel of engineering.”

My processor skips a bit at those words, taken off-guard by the unbridled awe in his voice. He called me a marvel of engineering. And he’s an engineer, so he must know what he’s talking about! That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me since… since Takuto…

“Thank you.” I say. “Please don’t injure yourself.”

“I’m not going to. I was testing your reflexes.” He wrenches his hand, but his pitiful pull is nothing about my mechanical iron grip. He frowns at that. “Let me go.”

I turn my gaze towards the scalpel, as I let go of his free hand and pry the tool away from him. Only then do I fully back off, closing my fingers over the blade of the scalpel to avoid any damage even if either he or I make a wrong move.

“Jesus.” I detect what seems like indignation at my perfectly reasonable security methods in his voice. But he still seems somewhat flustered? I’m not sure how to interpret that…

“Anyways, pair with my implant, I’ll give you access to my geolocation and biometric data.” He waves his hand in resignation, letting out a sigh. “I really shouldn’t be doing this, but I trust I’ll get it right this time. As long as you don’t have admin privileges…”

I should be questioning what he means by “this time,” but it’s not my place to ask. There is a reason why he wiped my memories, after all. I have to trust it was a good one.

In any case, Fross gives me access as soon as I request it. Immediately, I get flooded by kilobytes of information on his cardiac rhythm, breathing patterns, oxygen levels, hormonal balance, nutritional needs, allergies, pain response, hydration, amount of steps he has walked today, how many hours of REM sleep he has on average, and the way each of these factors has fluctuated throughout his entire life. Or, at least, since he had the implant installed.

God, it’s all useless. To me. I’m not some sort of algorithm, I’m primarily a bodyguard bot. All I really need to know is where he is, and whether his lungs are still breathing and his heart is still beating. That is all.

This is… oof. It’s a lot, to be honest. It’s actually making me light-headed…

But there is one thing that piques my interest, one of those aforementioned basics. The ability to track Fross’s heartbeat.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Thrumming nicely inside my head.

It’s really taking me back to an easier time, long before the Faro Plague, when I would lay my head over Takuto’s chest at night and press my ear against his skin, listening for his heartbeat. The consistent, comforting sound would lull me to something akin to sleep…

It’s... relaxing.

Does Fross realize that, by helping himself, he’s inadvertently helping me too? This is the closest I’ll ever get to having my own heartbeat. It might actually help me get some peaceful rest tonight…

I’m interrupted by a text-only transmission. “Copy me?”

He didn’t say anything out loud or move his lips at all. I respond the same way. “Copied.”

“Good. We’ll need a private means of communication if we want to avoid detection by the rest of Far Zenith. We’re done here. Dismissed.”

Well. I guess it’s time to leave and pretend that my first priority is still serving Far Zenith as a whole, then. It’s hard to believe I’m physically linked to Fross now… That is a disaster waiting to happen, for sure. But, no matter where this goes, I have to admit I’m actually a little excited to play along and watch the wreckage happen. It’s about time, after all.

[dinosrawr]

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