#Victor transformers plagued au

[ch1meraa]

Based on a funny head-canon - So we’ve all seen those hilarious selfies that every 40-odd year old dude takes and posts on their social media xD I think it’s bloody hilarious, and could see Vic doing that so here he is in all his nightmare fuel misery. Yeah his room has all the posters he likes from the 80’s and 90’s, along with punched-out areas of the wall cause he breaks stuff when he’s mad haha

Vic (C) me

[vulpeskorsak]

Day 25 of Whumptober 2022: Twitching tail

Day 25 of Whumptober 2022!

No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN

Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”

Timeline-wise my current shorts go: Day 2 -> Day 15 -> Day 5 -> Day 16 -> Day 25 -> Day 1 -> Day 18 -> Day 22 -> Day 13 - > (Day 4 -> Day 9*) -> Day 3 -> Day 7 -> Day 8 -> Day 21 - > Day 19 -> Day 6 -> Day 11 -> Day 12 -> Day 23 -> Day 14 -> Day 17 -> Day 24 -> Day 20

*Day 4 and 9 do not happen in the same AU where Ludwig exists.

Day 10 is a modern AU.

Victor is my human fleshsmith inventor (KibblesTasty Homebrew class) from a long-running DnD adventure.

Lady Lourencia “Caiman” Doe was his lover, a noble woman secretly running the biggest gang in the sea-side city they live in, who is able to transform into a large anthropomorphic caiman.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42626646 (AO3 link)

Twitching tail

“You better start talking as soon as you are able to… The Doctor has been asking me for a new test subject for a while now. And I’m pretty sure he has never gotten a chance to work on a tabaxi before.” Caiman grins, showing off her razor-sharp teeth. “And you know, that man will be veeery grateful if I let him keep you… Not even sure that I need you to talk right away, now that I’m thinking about it. Maybe, I should let him have his fun… I know a guy who can speak with the dead, so we can get the information we want even if my boy… breaks you too early.”

A large half-human half-caiman woman is leaning over the table, where the tabaxi thief lies paralyzed by a potent drug. She is very well-built, can probably snap her neck with one hand, and is taller than even the Doctor in this form, though the thief has not seen what she looks like normally.

She had no idea what she was getting into when she sneaked into this clinic. Certainly, no clue that it is protected by Caiman herself. The leader of the Emerald Tigers, the biggest gang in the city. She has heard rumors about her. They say she broke the wall of the gang’s den with its previous leader when taking over the leadership role. They say she is ruthless and violent but can show mercy if you submit.

Should she just submit and tell them the whole story?

The tabaxi has begun feeling the tip of her tail, so she wiggles it nervously. She still cannot talk but after whatever the Doctor injected into her some control is beginning to return to her.

The Doctor is sitting at his alchemical table, that she can see now that she can turn her head. He is looking at Caiman in excitement, like a child who has just been promised a brand-new toy.

“That sounds… like a great idea, my dear.” He purrs before getting up with a different syringe in hand. “Shall I knock her completely out now? Oh, I have so many things that I wanted to try out!”

“Oh?” Caiman perks up. “Do tell, my good doctor.”

“I’ve been wanting to test my new late-stage White Plague cure…”

Fuck! She submits! She submits!

She has seen people sick with it and what it left of them by the end… She has no desire to live to a late stage and survive.

“Though it will take her a couple months to get there… but I have plenty more stuff I wanted to do. Like, I’ve been thinking if you can do a blood transfusion between two drastically different species such as us humans and tabaxi. And I’m also lacking a tabaxi tail in my tail collection… though if I could eventually get the whole skeleton preserved, that would be even more fun. But bones can get severely damage over the course of the Plague, so maybe I should just-“

“No!” The tabaxi suddenly cries out.

She herself is not sure when exactly her ability to speak came back, but she sure is grateful it did now.

Caiman turns to her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. The Doctor looks at her with a tinge of disappointment.

“I… I will…” She coughs. “I will talk…”

“Ah… It’s almost a shame… It seems the good doctor will have to search for a new subject. Unless, you lie to us, of course.”

[meltedpumpkin]

Obligatory One Piece Gods AU! Because I love them, and I wanted to rub my grubby little hands all over one.

Mine is built around keeping pre-Marineford pretty intact, and taking direct inspiration from the G5 transformation. I'm sure you can see where this is going.

+ a little bit more worldbuilding to make the 'Ds are the enemies of the Gods' make sense in this context, and also a few misc other things to make it more coherent.

SO. Before the Void Century, there were gods! Many gods! But sometime during the Void Century, a traitor god (Imu) called all of them to a meeting. Not all the gods showed up of course, some because they're contrary/busy, and some because they're allies of Imu. It was a trap of course, and Imu used a powerful weapon to destroy the other gods. Some of the gods caught in the destruction survived, but only barely, as a shadow of their former selves, much weaker than the weakest mortal soul, but still clinging to existence.

Normally when a god dies, they're permanently killed (as opposed to reincarnating like a mortal soul). Either by other gods or by particularly powerful mortals. In those cases, the god's power and/or domain (other gods only take their domain) is absorbed by the victor, if the victor is deemed worthy. What worthy is, depends on the domain. But once there's a god of a domain, the domain is 'tamed' in a sense, and it's very difficult to get rid of.

In this case though, the only one around to absorb it was Imu, who was not deemed worthy (though Imu might have absorbed some of it anyway), and since there wasn't really anyone around to absorb all that power, it dispersed and the majority of it got split up into devil fruits.

However, this means that there weren't true successors, so many of the gods still had a sort of consciousness, still tied to their domains, even if they had no power to control them. The remnants of the gods were weaker than the weakest mortal souls.

I've decided that for several reasons, gods don't gain power very fast, but mortals can if they try really hard.

They get a big boost of power when they're born/ascend, so they don't really need to get stronger. They're GODS.

Gives power-hungry gods a reason to do increasingly bad things to gain more power

Gives gods a good reason to be incarnated as mortals if they're weakened significantly

So, the gods spent nearly 800 years slowly regaining power, essentially drifting around in a healing coma, and by... maybe 30-35 years before the main OP timeline, gods began to be reborn as mortals, because it took that long to be strong enough to power a mortal body.

Now there's a bunch of gods in mortal bodies, with no memory of being gods, and minimal connections to their domains, all running around, getting very strong very fast, and causing problems for the World Government.

--

The D Thing. Easy.

The D clans decided that it was their sacred duty to defeat bad gods. Because of that, they get very offended when mortals pretend to be gods. Some of that reasoning has been lost over time, but the knee-jerk reaction to false gods stayed for the most part.

They've got a few basic rules that all probably have stories behind them. Fate tends to agree with the rules, and will help guide strong Ds to gods that break them. Most gods in their right mind also agree with them. Mostly.

No actively encouraging mortals to sacrifice each other

Don't force mortals to worship you to use your domain. Blessings to worshipers is fine though.

Don't mass murder mortals outside your domain. IE, the god of sickness can make a plague, but can't go into a town and start directly murdering mortals. This is because gods don't create their domains, and should be allowed to follow their nature.

Don't directly rule over mortals, or heavily influence leaders. (this one is often less egregious than the other rules)

The reasons the Ds decided to be godslayers and why not just any mortal can do it:

Gods tend to be very difficult for mortals to harm in any way. Regular haki from normal mortals doesn't work on them. Normal mortals have to learn a special, high level haki technique and be very strong to damage gods, and they can only learn it from mortals who already know it, or directly from an actual god. However, when Ds learn basic haki, they can just immediately punch a god. They still have to be strong to beat the god, but Ds tend to be strong anyway.

Ds can sense gods that are hidden from mortal eyes, either with shapeshifting or invisibility of some kind, or something else.

Ds also tend to not like the idea of becoming an actual god (though it's not a hard rule). They usually have other goals in life.

Therefore, 'Ds are the enemies of the gods' is technically true, but misleading when you're talking about actual gods.

--

I've also got notes on specific gods, and a couple myths/backstory ideas for them, and also how gods are created in the first place! This is getting too long though, so I won't yell about those here. Maybe later.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Guilt Eater

Part 4 of the ‘Successors of the Future’ is here! And yes, I will do my absolute best to squeeze in as much Blazblue reference in this series until I can’t! (I mean, that’s how I got the plot bunny for this series anyway~)

We’re moving the spotlights today to Malleus and Ace and a special guest! I thought it’ll be an interesting shift of perspective and change. Don’t worry, we’ll get right back to the kids in the next oneshot. 

As always, big thank you to @tri3tri for letting us expand her Second Wive AU. Hope you guys enjoy this oneshot. 

-

Time tend to leave its mark differently on each species. 

For creatures who only grew stronger with time while their bodies remain near immortal, the passing of time means nothing to the Fair Folks. Time is likened to the ocean; ancient yet full of wonders. 

For Malleus, however, time has not been kind to him. Not since his dear heart and children vanishes. 

Ever since then, there is an unspoken rule among the residents of the Castle of Thorns: the Queen’s family wing is forbidden to everyone but the King.

Even Lilia nod his head to the rule; even he has been walking on eggshells around their King. 

And the years had transformed the Queen’s domain into a catacomb. The rumpled beds, the toys littered in Princess Sherrie’s bedroom, the Queen’s favourite book on her study table - everything is left untouched with layered of dust and cobwebs covering every inch of the surfaces. 

Every evening, the King would stalk the empty halls and bedrooms like a ghost; constantly yearning to feel the memories that embedded on the walls. Once he did his duties as the King and beget the male heir that the court had been pushing, Malleus has been living in regret ever since. 

He should have known that his beautiful wife would attempt to escape during the night of his second wedding. He should have tightened the security not on his concubine, but to the Queen and their Princesses. He should have assured Renata and Sherrie that only their mother holds his heart and that Bellatrix is just a means to an end. 

He should have told them that he loves them. 

Regret and guilt are terrible poisons. It festered under your skin and twist your heart painfully. They plague your mind with ‘what if’s’ and ‘should have’s’ and Malleus have been carrying them ever since that night. 

Tonight, he lost hours inside Renata’s bedroom, just staring at her favourite doll that he bought for her. He still remembers how her eyes lit up and how sweet her smile was when he presented the doll to her; how she was so happy that she clings on him and the doll that day. Deeply amused, he humoured her and carried her in her arms the whole day. Malleus even brought her to his court session, regardless how it broke propriety. 

His every waking moments now drift to MC and their daughters. Where are they? Why couldn’t he find them no matter how many soldiers he dispatched across Twisted Wonderland, no matter how far his magic blanket the lands? Are his daughters healthy, happy? What are they currently doing now? Are they safe? Have they forgotten about him - 

The mirror on the vanity table shattered. Malleus releases the doll in his grip and struggle to calm himself down; his body curl inwards and his breaths erratic. The thought of his wife and children far away and happy from him nearly drove him crazy if it weren’t for Lilia’s quick and careful words of consolation.

“They can’t hide forever, Malleus. Don’t ever give up, you hear me? And once we’ll find them, we’ll make sure her little escape routines are put to a stop. Permanently.”  

Lilia’s words are enough to ground him. For now. 

Malleus failed to assured his wife and daughters his love towards them, failed to show just how deep his convictions towards them are. The moment he finds any threads of their whereabouts, he’ll make sure to rectify that. 

And as the night made way for morning, Malleus forces himself to leave his daughter’s abandoned bedroom to prepare for another long, monotonous day. The only reason why he hasn’t delegate his duties to Lilia was because of his grandmother. His grandmother had come to visit on the eve of his second wedding and stayed when a frantic Silver announced MC and their children’s disappearance. If it weren’t for her, Malleus would’ve burned away his suit and transform into a dragon to search for them. While Lilia organise a search team with Silver and Sebek, his grandmother made sure he understood his duties as King once more. 

That was the first and last time he slept with Bellatrix before his thoughts and desire are consumed with the need to find his family. At that point, neither Lilia nor his grandmother could’ve stop him. 

The castle staffs and guards know to scattered when they see him step out of the Queen’s wing. The moment they heard the door creaked open, the room is empty. 

All but for one individual. 

“Good morning, Father!” 

Malleus stop his track. He tilts his head towards his heir, expressionless. Victor refused to be deterred by his Father’s gloomy aura yet he’s smart enough to carefully approach him. 

The king is stoic on the best days, frightening on his worst. 

“Will you be joining us for breakfast later? I heard from Grandfather Lilia that the kitchen staffs are planning to cook your favourites.” 

“I’ll be taking my meals in my office as usual.” Malleus reply and starts to walk away. 

Victor’s smile drop a little but he pressed on, jogging behind his father. In a rare burst of courage, the Prince grab Malleus’ hand. Surprisingly, Malleus stops walking. He stares at his hand before narrowing his eyes at Victor. 

“W-Would Father like a report of my recent academic progress? My tutors said that I’ve been doing well in my magic classes! O-Oh! I’ve also been diligently keeping up with my etiquette lessons.” Victor stutters out after he immediately let go of his Father’s hand. Feeling like he just committed a grave crime. 

“No need. Your tutors have been sending letters of your progress, daily.” 

“Oh... then would Father be willing to... to train me - ”

“I’m busy. Ask Lilia or any of your tutors.” And with that, Malleus refused to linger any longer, leaving Victor in the empty room. 

Crestfallen, Victor watch his Father go. Knowing that if he bothers him even more, it will just upset him and another storm would loom over the castle for the next few days. His expression immediately morph into a combination of anger and sadness as he stomps away before the staffs could return, not wanting them to see him vulnerable. 

As usual, Victor desperately hopes that one day his Father would finally acknowledge him as a son, not as his Prince. 

-

Time tend to leave its mark differently on each species.

For creatures with a set of years as flimsy as a lit candle’s flame, humans are creatures who bear the passing of time with a passionate vigor. Time is likened to fireworks; beautiful, bright but only for a short moment. 

For Ace, however, time is a constant remainder that he had failed his best friend. Being vulnerable in Night Raven College is a sure way to be taken advantage off and Ace is never known as anything but his brutal honestly, mischievous streaks and habits of getting himself (and others) into trouble. 

But when the headmaster announced that he couldn’t find MC anywhere the day after their senior’s graduation, was the moment that he, Deuce and Grim completely lose their composure. Deuce was too shocked to say anything while Ace couldn’t stop screaming alongside Grim. 

She couldn’t have just vanish! People don’t work like that! 

And even if she finally somehow found a way back to her world, she wouldn’t just leave without saying goodbye! 

Ace hated himself as that moment. If only he texted them the night before. Why didn’t he? They usually send stupid texts to one another! If only he kept a closer eye on them. If only she kept Grim close to her. 

For once, the headmaster drop all pretence. For once, his guilt laden answer and heavy sags of his shoulders are genuine. 

MC is gone and he has no idea how or why. But the three of them refused to gave up just like that. Ever since that day, they would do their best to figure out or research about MC’s fate. Jack and Epel, after finding out what happened, did their best to help out too. But days passed without any leads and with heavy hearts, they accepted that their friend is lost to them. 

That was not a good day. 

After Ace and Epel managed to pull Deuce and Jack away from one another (Deuce had completely lost it when the wolf boy reluctantly admit that maybe it was best to stop their research), strangely enough, it was Sebek who finally interjects. 

They need to accept that MC is gone. Even if they could never gain the closure that they desperately want, it’ll be no good to carry this sort of horrible guilt with them forever. With a long sigh, Sebek told them to find peace with it, even if it’s hard. 

Easier said than done. Even now that he’s already an adult and have a son, Ace still couldn’t help but wonder what happened to his friend. He hopes that wherever she is, MC is safe and happy. Anything other than that Ace couldn’t bear to think. 

Ace takes out his phone and checks the calendar app. The anniversary of MC’s disappearance is coming. Usually, Ace would cook MC’s favourite food in honour of her memory and over the years, he has gotten pretty good at it. Good enough that it also becomes his son’s favourite dish. 

Just as Ace was about to put down his phone and get ready to go out for lunch with his older brother, it suddenly rings.  

The name on his phone surprises him. His son rarely calls him ever since he got accepted to Night Raven College. Something about wanting some independence from his old man that Ace retaliates by ruffling his hair because of his boy’s cheekiness. 

Ace press the accept button with a grin, knowing that this is going to be good. “What’s up, kiddo? Finally admit that you miss your old man?” 

He expects a scoff, maybe a reluctant admittance, hell even his son’s rare bout of innocent honesty. What Ace didn’t expect however, is hearing his son’s frightened shriek.

“Dad! You knew a MC/S before right!? Please tell me you know what to do when she went batshit insane!” 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down! What are you talking about? I can barely hear you!” 

Ace impatiently wait while pressing the phone close to his ear as he hear his son rapidly talking to someone, shouting apologies and heavy breaths as if he’s currently running. 

“Oh Sweet Seven, ok, I think we managed to hide from her.” His son panted. “Yeah, so, I might have, uh accidentally threw my food tray all over this girl and she immediately went supernova. We barely managed to dodge her fireballs!” 

Suddenly, Ace felt his heart drop. “Girl? What girl? Night Raven College is an all-boys’ school.” He heard himself reply. Absentmindedly, his mind brought up the memories of his Entrance Ceremony, years ago. Of a girl that looked so lost in her robes as she stood in front of the Mirror of Darkness. 

“Renata MC/S. She’s the only girl that ended up a student here. I remembered that you had a friend with that surname so I thought she might be related.” 

At that moment, Ace choose to believe it. It’s way too coincidental for it not be. A girl that shares his lost best friend’s surname who also just happend to be the only girl to be accepted in Night Raven College? 

But what Ace doesn’t understand is his son’s comment about the girl throwing fireballs. MC doesn’t have magic. So what’s going on? 

“Hmm, I usually gave her some space before I apologised to her. And a little bribery never failed too.” Ace advised, recalling how MC reluctantly accepts the candy that he offered after he upsets her. 

“That’s not a bad idea, Dad! Will report back the result if I’m not scorched to death.” Ace’s son dryly answer. Some rustling noises and hush whispers can be heard through the phone before his kid ended the call. 

Ace is already calling Deuce’s number. He needs to know about this. 

-

I hope I managed to did Malleus and Ace justice in writing them! I’ll get better with writing the rest of the boys once their children are introduce. Because Renata needed friends/allies against Malleus after all~ 

Speaking of Victor, I was really nervous when I was writing him. Here, he’s not all haughty because deep down, all he want is some praises and love from a Father who only see him as something to appease his court. Not a son. Hope I managed to portray that properly! 

(Also, the name of Ace’s son and two others will be reveal in the next oneshot)

[mizjoely]

Sherlolly Pushing Daisies AU

“So...John. He’s your person, then?”

Sherlock tilted his head, wrinkled his brow, and tried to be as polite as possible when he answered (after all, he still needed this woman’s cooperation if he wanted access to the bodies he needed when Lestrade wasn’t with him). “Sorry, I don’t actually have...people. Not in the way you’re implying. And definitely not John, he would be very, well, insulted if you thought we were...”

“No, no, that’s not what I - well, I mean, it sort of is, I guess, because I have been wondering but that’s none of my business.” Molly blushed as she stumbled on. “What I meant was...he’s your person. The one you...saved.” The last word was spoken in a hushed whisper even though there was no one in the morgue but the two of them.

Sherlock shook his head. “No, I’m afraid you’ve got it backwards,” he said easily. “He’s the one who saved me, actually. More than once.” And in more than one way, Sherlock thought.

Molly huffed impatiently. “No, that’s not what I meant! I mean, that’s great, I knew you two had a real bond even though you always pick...uh, even though you two joke a lot,” she hastily backtracked, “but what I meant was...He’s the one you saved by...oh, bollocks! Look, let me just...”

And she snapped off her glove, pulled down the sheet covering Mr. Albert Simpson, 42, murdered by a shotgun blast to the chest...and did the most extraordinary thing Sherlock had ever seen.

Well, at least it was extraordinary seeing someone else do it. In mounting disbelief (and was that excitement? hope? joy?) he watched as Molly Hooper, Specialty Registrar at St. Barts Hospital, the woman he flattered and charmed into allowing him access to the morgue even without DI Lestrade by his side, placed her index finger on the forehead of the body he’d come to examine...and with that touch, brought Mr. Simpson back to life.

Simpson lurched up into a sitting position. “Hello!” he exclaimed. “Who are you? Where am I?” When Molly pointed mutely to his chest, he looked down, and his face fell. “Bollocks,” he said. “That bastard killed me, didn’t he?”

“Which bastard?” Sherlock interrupted quickly. No point in wasting time, especially since neither he nor Molly (Molly! Molly Hooper! Someone else like him!) had started the one minute timer - or did she need a timer? Was she perhaps not limited to that single minute of reanimation that plagued his particular gift?

All questions that would have to wait - but only until after Mr. Simpson answered the question he’d asked. Oh, he’d already deduced it was the half-brother, but it never hurt to have confirmation directly from the source.

“Elwood,” Simpson replied. As expected. “That bloody bastard - well, technically I’m the bastard, but I told him I wasn’t interested in our father’s money! I just wanted to have a family, to be his brother, and instead the wanker just up and shoots me - I’ll bet he tried to make it look like a hunting accident, didn’t he!”

Molly nodded sympathetically while Sherlock just rolled his eyes. “He did,” she siad softly, placing her still-gloved hand over that of the victim. “But we’ll make sure he doesn’t get away with it, won’t we Sherlock?”

“Er, yes, of course, justice will be served,” Sherlock replied after a slight pause as he adjusted to the fact that Molly was consoling Simpson and asking him to back her up. 

Simpson beamed at Molly. “Great, thanks, both of you! I’ll rest easier knowing...”

Before he could finish speaking, Molly reached out with her ungloved hand and gently touched him on the neck.

Simpson collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Molly pulled her discarded glove back on her hand (not without a bit of a struggle that was actually kind of...adorable?) then expertly rearranged the once-again inanimate corpse onto the trolley, covered it up, and pushed the shelf back into the drawer.

Once she’d resecured the metal door, she stripped off the gloves, balling them inside one another, and placed them into the disposal bin before turning once again to face him. “So,” she said, after taking a deep breath. “He’s your person?”

Sherlock nodded dumbly. “He died saving my life. It was the least I could do, bringing him back. And since the only other person in the proximity was the murderer, I had no compunctions about leaving John alive.”

Molly nodded. “I thought it must be something like that. For me, it was my father.” She smiled wistfully. “He’s living in Australia now. We decided it would be best if the temptation to, to hug or kiss each other on the cheek - well, we came close a couple of times because that’s what you do, right? You hug your father, he kisses you on the cheek, and well, that’s how my mother...”

“She was your first?” Molly nodded. “Mine was my best friend Victor Trevor. We were eight.” Sherlock realized he was telling Molly something that he’d told no one except John Watson, but couldn’t have stopped himself from sharing his story if he tried. He would examine why he felt that way later (and discover that, much to his amazement and dismay, it wasn’t merely that she was the only other person with his ability that he’d ever met). “He’d fallen down a well and drowned, only it turned out my younger sister, Eurus, had actually pushed him down there because she was jealous of our friendship - which,” he added hastily as he perceived Molly’s horrified expression, “is a story for another day. The point is that I jumped into the well when I saw him floating there, and when I touched him, he came back to life...and then he hugged me and suddenly he was dead again.”

Molly’s expression went through a series of transformations as he spoke - so many tiny little emotions, he lost count - but sympathy was there, and sorrow, as she reached out and hesitantly laid her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, looking up at him through wide brown eyes he’d once dismissed as boring and ordinary. How could he possibly have done so, how could he have not seen how expressive they were?

Without thinking, he leaned down so that his forehead touched hers - and felt a spark, like an electric shock, not dissimilar to how it felt when he reanimated a corpse. He sprang back, horrified at the possibility that their matching abilities might somehow have caused damage, but thankfully Molly was still alive and well, although her eyes were now wide with surprise. “What was that?” she exclaimed.

He grinned. “I don’t know, Molly Hooper, but I can tell you that I’m looking forward to finding out!”

~FIN~

[lazulisong]

what's the most cliches you can accept all piled into one fic tho. like some highschool coffeeshop a/b/o vampire monstrosity where they're all still skaters, fake dating because of shenanigans and then one of them gets transformed and oops they're mpregnant?

I think the worst thing I ever read without failing out is …. hmm. I did read the one where Jim is a mermaid, there’s some sort of plague, Bones steals a horse, and then becomes a mermaid with Jim (because Jim bit him, because apparently merpeople are like, vampires? werewolves? I was definitely gently whispering WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK by that time) without yelling WHAT THE FUCK more than five times.

I mean. Why did Bones steal the horse???????

 I dunno man, I was raised on Barbara Cartland and Grace Livingston Hill, there’s not much that fazes me any more. I think it bothers me more when things are more or less logical except for like ONE THING so like, if you posit merperson a/b/o high school au where Victor is a shark and Yuri is a dolphin and they have babies anyway, then I’m like “okay sure” but one small thing being off is like OH COME ON. 

I’ll swallow any number of elephants, is what I’m saying. But man, that one gnat is a killer.

[ch1meraa]

Victor reflects on when he was more human, before he lost his arm. It would’ve been great to see some of Dr Meridian’s backstory, would’ve fleshed out his character and given him more dimensionality and believability in the show.

Vic (C) me

[ch1meraa]

- based on a very fun RP i’m doing with @turtwap that takes place is the Plague AU horror-verse I made a while back

Vic/Helldroid is getting used to being alive again, and he’s hating every minute of it - Who knows, maybe in time he will be a changed man…Cyborg… space rat.. whatever the fuck he is at this point 😂

Even despite that he hates Transformers, Victor is now having to work with them and - since the horror au is verging on the apocalypse, differences are being put aside for the sake of everyone’s survival. There is irony abound in the pit that is the horror verse and sometimes hugs are necessary.

Sky belongs to @turtwap

Victor belongs to me

[ch1meraa]

Chatting and rping with @turtwap and she had this awesome head-canon about her OC Sky having to fight Vic/Helldroid. In the horror verse au I’m working on, GHOST constantly upgrade his cybernetic body, to make it easier for the scientist to work/research/collect data out in the field, where it’s extremely dangerous being around the Plagued transformers - however, sometimes their performance enhancing drugs send Victor feral - That’s where his friend Sky comes in - And I’m guessing this is the face she’d be greeted with 😂

[ch1meraa]

Warning long post!

Here is an excerpt from an rp I’ve got going on with @turtwap - This isn’t the entire story, but some turns from where we are up to. It takes place in my Plagued horror au - Some time after the end of episode 25 of Transformers Earthspark. Mandroid’s plan to eradicate all Cybertronians is reversed, the healing ray ressurects him, but leaves him in a comatose state. He is taken by GHOST where his future is not certain. When an outbreak of an unknown and devastating virus surfaces shortly after, Alex asks GHOST to help Victor AKA Mandroid - They agree, but funding a new body for him will not be cheap - They must see results from him to make it viable. And so, Victor is brought back where he has to face up to his past - He makes some good progress but there are many obstacles ahead to face.

@monocle-teacup thought this might be of interest to you

@vihattu-thethoroughbredofsin Here is the rp the drawings are based on

SVEENE -

As time passed, Hashtag grew fed up with being in her room. She wasn’t tired either - and now she was growing bored of being in the same place. Her music wasn’t helping her tonight. Exhaling pointedly, she got up from where she’d been sat, which wasn’t on her berth - instead, she’d been sitting on the floor, head in her hands, for an unknown amount of time. Bored, she decided to take a walk to break up the monotony of the evening.

In the training arena, a miserable sight was unfolding before the scathing glare of Lena, who should have gone home hours ago. She wanted to oversee proceedings with the new Plagued captive - because this one was far more coherent than the others. This one was *talking* …

Arms folded, she turned to the team. Alex was nowhere to be seen, not at this late hour. She smiled a gloating little leer of a grin. Nobody to stop her from getting her money’s worth out of being an absolute bastard around Victor, whom the scientists had gathered around as he was being medically assessed - he looked indifferent to the situation. He was sitting on the berth. Alex ordered that he wouldn’t be strapped down against his will. He tolerated just sitting there, even as hands touched him, pinched at his veins, injected him or hooked him up to various machines. Victor had ports on his armour, where jacks could be inserted, to see how the mechanical parts of him were functioning - it was sad how no one spoke to him, despite that, like them, he had a human face - he stared ahead, or down at the floor. The only one who spoke to him was Lena - and she did not address him nicely. He didn’t look at her but saw her feet approach, then stop some feet away. His face was unreadable. He did not look up. When Lena spoke, it was not to him but about him - to the other scientists, making him feel even less human.

“…We have a talker in the arena. Have Victor find out the alien’s name. I want to know as much as possible - so make sure there are no mistakes this time.”

Wincing as one of the technicians jabbed a needle into his arm, Vic looked out through the window at the Cybertronian who was sitting by themselves, surrounded by open space and then a ring of guards with plasma guns trained on him. At that moment, Vic felt a weird sympathy - Two different life forms which were not so different because they were both viewed as beasts.

“Diagnostics are complete. Looks like a clean bill of health for you, Victor.” Came the voice of one of the scientists, Alex’s friend Marcus - One of the more pleasant lab staff. Even though he was scared of Vic, he was always courteous to him.

Marcus followed Vic as he wordlessly stood up, walking towards the window to look into the arena. Marcus appeared next to him, looking up at the cyborg scientist.

“…I take it that this one isn’t destined for the chopping block, then?”

“Yeah - we just need intel tonight, Vic. You have full permission to terminate him if you feel it is necessary.”

That was all Vic needed to know. He looked at Marcus, who moved back a few steps - Vic stopped caring long ago who was scared of him just for existing.

“Acknowledged - And chill out, Marcus. I don’t always bite.” Vic added sardonically. With that said, he left to go to the arena, where the big, captive Cybertronian awaited him.

Hashtag had found herself wandering through tall doors marked ‘No Entry’ or ‘Staff Only’ - Fuck it. She was in a mood and needed a thrill. She had no idea what she had let herself in for when she found herself in a dark engine room - with its busy machines buzzing away and bright lights flickering … no one was around despite the noise. The next door she found was marked ‘Arena 2 - Viewing Room’ - at first she didn’t dare to go in - what if it was full of people? Before she could stop, she’d already let herself in. It was cold, dark and empty. What the hell was this place?? She locked the door, spark pulsing with some fear she now felt for having snuck so deeply into the base - where she was probably not permitted unless accompanied. What she saw next made her optics go wide - It was *him*

And someone else… a fellow Cybertronian… she didn’t get too close to the glass, in case she was seen, but nor could she make herself look away.

TURTWAP -

Topspin was as bolted to the wall as any living being could be. The restraining bolts kept him from accessing any of his weapons, but he had the strength now to break out of there if he tried. Even hungry as he was - *starving*. He just needed something to eat, just one cube of energon to take the edge off. He’d *watched* those Terran kids go right past where he was hiding that night, but Megatron had forbidden anyone from touching them on a pain worse than being made un-dead.

GHOST still dumped Energon in the forest. It wasn’t always *good* Energon. They were sure it was medical waste or what was left over from various machines, but despite tasting like trash, it was edible for them. It took the edge off, at least. GHOST had so few uninfected Cybertronians left, so getting a fresh meal was much more complicated than it used to be. With the loss of his twin still fresh, he felt like he needed to eat double to fill the gap inside his spark. Maybe if he played his cards right, he could talk them into giving him some…

As the humans stepped aside, a creature stepped towards him - the face was human, but the rest of it….he didn’t even know. Despite not being afraid at all, inside him, he felt a sharp pain of fear from what had, at one point, been Twin Twist’s half of their bond. The fear he felt before he’d been killed.

As the creature stepped towards him, Topspin bared his terrifying fangs and screeched at it. The humans all jumped back in terror, but he wasn’t focused on them, “you killed my brother! I felt it! You gut him like a fish!”

Despite all the humans’ fear, one of them without armour, he didn’t recognise her even from before, turned to another and whispered, “Make a note: ‘even infected they still feel familial relationships—'

Topspin cut her off by shrieking again, “And you took him to get butchered! I’ll kill every one of you and take your hearts for —“

Several of the armed guards fired taser rounds at him, electrocuting him so hard he thought his audials would explode. He saw the human’s pet monster get closer to him, looking at him like a specimen.

SVEENE -

As Victor approached, his organic set of arms folded loosely, he stood and observed, face set as he looked into the optics of the being before him. When he saw a scientist nearby making notes, he thought it best to usher them off - before they found out anything of *actual* value - and as Victor was the chief scientist at GHOST, he did have the final say. No one was going to argue with him regardless - most were only too happy not to have to be around him, especially given the fact that he’d nearly killed one of the scientists just weeks earlier. Vic was able to hide his reaction when he saw them taser Topspin, but his folded arms seemed to tighten. He, too, knew the pain of the taser well.

“Leave us.”

There was no resistance from the other scientists, who did as ordered. The others with their guns seemed hesitant at first, exchanging glances until Victor spoke again, that slightly mechanised voice making them jump as it echoed eerily in the massive space of the arena.

“*Did I stutter?*”

With the sternness in his voice, the guards, with their plasma guns, submitted and left the area along with the scientists. As they did so, Vic remained staring dead ahead into the face of the captive Cybertronian - when it was just the two of them, Victor finally spoke again.

“What is your name?” Vic began, ignoring the bestial anger and snapping jaws that could not reach him. Topspin was struggling so much, but Victor remained icy calm. He wasn’t going to barter or inflict pain. He wanted Topspin to realise he had a choice, to either be hard work - or be reasonable.

“This can be as difficult as you want it to be. If you comply, we can get this over with quickly. The choice is yours. I’ll ask again - What is your name?”

TURTWAP -

When the guards left, Topspin stared at the thing talking to him. Four arms, a tail….yikes. Maybe this guy took over the space bridge and came back as a monster in a shell. Acting tough didn’t faze him, so Topspin quickly cut the act and eased back against the wall. He didn’t let his guard down, but he no longer had anyone he needed to scare off.

The second time he was asked, he complied, “Topspin. Twin Twist was my brother…he’s one of the ones who was killed a couple of nights ago. Rotorstorm was the other.”

Names were a start - GHOST always loved getting names, even before. If they didn’t have a bot’s name, they pushed until they got it. The twins had listened to Optimus, joined the humans with the rest of the Autobots, kept their heads down and did what they were told. Look where it got them now.

“I was just looking for Energon - some guys in a truck usually dump the wasted stuff by this old backroad. It must have got too close. That’s what the other two were doing. Rotorstorm was so hungry he was starting to lose it - that’s probably why….”

He didn’t need to explain the rest. And he wasn’t trying to win any favours with a sob story. He just wanted to get this interrogation over with so they would hurry up and put him out of his misery.

SVEENE-

As Topspin began to talk, Vic just listened - His demeanour didn’t change much, but his expression was intriguing. The man looked *done*. He looked like a guy who had just turned up to a 12-hour shift at his hated job. He kept his pair of organic arms loosely folded for a moment longer but soon began to walk towards the various large storage vats, machinery and what looked like surgical equipment on the big workbench nearby. Was this the end? What was this four-armed monster going to do next? Indeed, something awful. Indeed, something as inhuman as he looked.

There was the sound of liquid gushing and a tap being activated. It was probably a preservative or acid.

When the cybernetic creature returned, he held a Jerry-can-type container full of bright pink liquid. What he did next was utterly unexpected - Hashtag was still watching, optics wide. She was mentally trying to prepare herself for whatever awful thing was about to happen next. She could already feel her optics stinging, mind and spark racing as she desperately wanted to do *something* - anything… to stop was about to -

“This will be easier if you lift your chin.” Vic began, now standing well within biting distance - He had nothing to fear. He’d be wheeled away and stitched up, forced to get better and exist for another day, so he didn’t fear the jaws of Topspin. He wanted to give him some Energon, given that’s all he had wanted. It was impossible to tell if the act was out of some vague sense of compassion, or remorse or whether it was scientific curiosity. Regardless, he was offering the Energon - Topspin was free to react however he pleased. Given that he was bound, his options were somewhat limited.

Hashtag continued to stare in confusion through the window. In the sanctity of the room, she felt a knot form within her. Why was this scene not playing out like she had expected? Ruthless, scornful, cold and horrible Victor - Who wasn’t doing what she expected him to. Why?

As Victor leaned in with the Jerry can, just before he let Topspin drink, he lifted the can up enough to cover that he was talking to him - This was unexpected. Topspin could take the man’s throat out with one bite if he wanted, but when Vic began to speak again, it was too unusual of a situation to do anything other than listen.

“Topspin, I don’t have much time. If they see me like this for too long, they’ll send the guards down. Tell me - Are there others like you? Where is Megatron’s base?”

Victor knew that he was being monitored - They couldn’t hear him, not like this - but they could see him to a degree. He hoped that Topspin would give him something useful to work with and fast.

“I’m sorry about your brothers - There is no time for sentiment. Tell me what you know.”

TURTWAP-

When GHOST’s cyborg monster approached him with the Energon, Topspin didn’t hesitate. He tried to keep his lips over his fangs as much as he could out of deference, but he did gulp it down greedily. If he could, he would have bitten through the can and sucked it dry, though that would probably risk biting the hand that fed him and getting put down early.

He acknowledged the first question with a nod, swallowing down the last of the Energon quickly so he could answer. Instantly, he felt more alert, less like he was trying not to lose his grip on a slippery slope. Another couple of days hungry, and he would have ended up like the mindless ones that tore off and never came back.

Fair was fair - the creature had extended an olive branch, so the least he could do was answer honestly, “When you say ‘like me’, you mean coherent? Not just angry, spark-sucking monsters? We’re *all* like that - at least….who’s left. It doesn’t start like that. The hunger is so bad at first that it just *hurts* like nothing you could imagine. All you want to do is rip someone’s throat out. But after a while, it goes away. You start to become…more like you.

“But with so many of us, it’s getting harder and harder to find ways to feed. Sorry to say it, but we ate most of our options. That’s why we go after the scraps and stop attacking GHOST so frequently. There’s not much to go around, though…and when bots go hungry… that makes them monstrous. The ones that attack don’t know what they’re doing. As for the base…I don’t know—

Before Topspin could continue, the door slammed open again. Lena and her small army returned, pointing their guns at Topspin but not bothering to mind that Vic was half in the way if they fired.

“Victor, I said, interrogate it, not make friends with it. We are not a home for wayward demon-bots. Did it say anything useful or not?”

With the humans back, Topspin had no desire to speak. Their cybernetic pet….lackey….thing—Victor, apparently—he had no issues with anymore, but the humans would remain nothing but cruel. He bared his fangs at them, “Now I won’t say anything! I know what you’ll do if I talk: you’ll kill everyone and pretend to be the heroes. You aren’t any different than us.”

He sneered at her, hissing quietly through his teeth like a snake. The guards looked at the human woman expectantly, who only raised an eyebrow and looked down at her watch and back.

“Fine. I don’t have the time to waste, and I can find ways to lure another of you in. Maybe one more talkative,” she turned to Vic coldly, “kill him. Not too horribly, since now I need his corpse for bait.”

SVEENE-

When Victor heard the big doors to the lab open abruptly, he looked to Topspin, resisting the urge to look behind himself - and for the first time, his otherwise set expression looked pleading. He spoke quickly and quietly, even as he heard Lena yell up at him, on the platform where he stood eye-level with the much larger form of Topspin.

“…If you want to help your friends, tell me where Megatron’s base is.”

In no hurry to acknowledge Lena or her troupe of guards, Victor searched the optics of Topspin one last time - Hoping he’d say something worthwhile. Victor pursed his lips, eyes closing in a moment of seething frustration as his jaw tightened. He sharply exhaled, looking determinedly to Topspin one last time - the seconds slipping away. He got down from the platform, getting back to the ground with a swift leap. He landed a short distance away from Lena and approached, noting how she did not move around like everyone else always did - even her not-so-tough guards appeared as if to be hiding behind their guns.

Her face twisted into a scolding grimace - as if she was always thoroughly disappointed. She barely acknowledged Victor even as he watched her dismissively pass by him. He was not going to chase after her. He didn’t even speak until she looked back, and up at him. Her words seemed to defy logic - Victor’s brow furrowed in confusion

“Lena - I implore you to reconsider. He has valuable Intel we can use. Killing him will be a setback we cannot accommodate.”

Lena’s head spun around so fast it was almost as if she’d had cold water thrown on her. She looked up at Victor, walking towards him. Whenever she took out that damn pen in her pocket and began clicking it, Vic knew well enough to expect the situation to go only one way - *hers*.

“Victor-“

“-Give me some time with him and-“

“*Enough* - That is enough. Now, I believe I have already given you an order, so why don’t you hurry up and *execute* it? Put those many empty hands of yours to some use, won’t you? They, along with the rest of you, are costing this organization a small fortune I hope you realise?”

Inside, the man was utterly seething. All four of his fists tightly balled up - but he could not let his anger show -

For an entire moment, he locked eyes with that woman before him, and inside, behind the rack of chest teeth, he felt his laser gun warm up painfully - Oh, how he wanted to. He could not, though. Not yet.

Victor’s gaze went toward Topspin as he resignedly walked over to where he was bound - He did not want to kill him, but Victor had no choice. Before he did, he looked up at Topspin one last time and did the last thing he could think to do - in the moments they still had left. Using the Plague’s telepathic bridging ability, he reached out to Topspin - So only the two of them could hear each other.

“I apologise for what I am about to do. There won’t be any pain. I ask you one last time to tell me the location of Megatron’s base.”

Lena was growing ever more impatient by the second; if Victor wasn’t going to do it - She’d surely get her guards to kill him instead, and Victor would be reprimanded. To keep Lena distracted, Vic began charging up - The sound of his mechanical parts whirring up as a power boost bought him a little longer - but not much. He implored Topspin, as his organic arms began to extend - Then slam into Topspin’s chest, palms down, the teeth on his palms piercing Topspin’s chest plate, sinking in with deadly swiftness- Victor promised there would be no pain, and he kept his word. The scientist began draining the Energon out of Topspin - rendering his last meal moments ago worthless - Victor’s eyes went bright violet-white. Topspin stared back, hypnotised into unconsciousness. Victor drained him until he shut down, sagging in his restraints- completely dead. It was horrendous to witness - Even Lena looked uncomfortable. Truly, Victor was as twisted as any life form could get and he worried her, even if she never let him know of it.

Hashtag’s mouth hung open - she backed away from the window until darkness shrouded her. She felt *terrified* - She watched Topspin die, the unnaturally stretched arms of the cyborg scientist retracting. She ambled backwards until her back was against a wall, which made her gasp as she slid down it - She felt utterly numb by now. Why was she here in this awful place… It was like living in a tomb.

TURTWAP-

The moment Victor stepped away from the body, the team of specialists and guards had it lowered onto the ground to swarm it like flies, most likely preparing to store it until whatever plan Lena was concocting came time.

Speaking of, the woman continued staring on ahead when she spoke, not looking at Vic for even a moment, “I wasn’t just putting on a show, I meant what I said. We don’t have time for you to get to know every single bot that comes through here. If one won’t spill, we move on. Throw enough darts at the wall and one of them is bound to hit the target - eventually we will either find one that is as cooperative as we need, or we end up wiping them all out anyway.”

She could *feel* that Victor was about to argue back, and she didn’t care for it. Lena hadn’t even heard him draw breath before she held a hand up to quiet him, “they can act intelligent all they want, but it won’t change the fact that they are a threat. Whatever you were going to say, don’t.”

She walked away after that, crossing the room to speak with the team of lab coats and assistants, leaving Vic standing by himself. As cruel as she acted towards him, to the rest of her team she was firm and shrewd, but much less harsh. Always thanking them, hearing out and occasionally agreeing with their opposing opinions. She understood that the organization ran best with cooperation. But she saw Vic as an unpredictable outlier, one that needed to be kept on a short, tight leash.

-

Hashtag knew what she needed to do. She had to protect her family from that *evil thing* that her sister was so attached to. She could go home and hide and cry later, but right now she felt so angry she let it take her over. She retraced her steps from a couple days prior to her to the lab, easily hacking through door controls and security cameras to get there unnoticed. Once she was in, she realized she didn’t entirely have a plan. Was she going to try and kill him? How was she going to do that when he was so much stronger than her.

She pulled up the security camera feeds for the hallways again and saw that Vic was making his way back to the lab, he’d be there in a couple minutes. Panicking, Hashtag found a metal storage closet against one wall, and opened it, hoping for *something* that would give her a quick weapon, at least to defend herself. Fixed to the inside of one of the doors was a massive crowbar. It would have to do.

She grabbed it, shut the cabinet so no one would notice, and hid herself in a dark corner near the door.