#because usually I'm a wuss like

[tadc-harlequin-au]

New Puppet Unlocked: Pomni, the Last Harlequin!

Pomni's character description:

I actually finished this about three days ago, but I didn't wanna post it because I haven't started on the others yet. I eventually decided that fuck it, we ball.

Pomni is the most recent and last model of a Combat Harlequin; P-1210. She doesn't have any remembrance of her life before becoming a Puppet, only the fact that she has an itch in her head that tells her to keep fighting.

After hunting down The Puppetmaster and a duel ensues between the two, it ends with the Harlequin and The Puppetmaster forming an alliance in order to fix the destroyed City.

Now, Pomni spends her time sparring, sharpening her sword, bantering with the Puppetmaster, hunting down bosses and eliminating manic Marionettes.

Fun facts about Pomni:

She likes sandwiches. Specifically, salmon.

She REALLY hates it when someone eats it. (It's Bubble)

She finds some things annoying in other Puppets, and will be blunt about it.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't care. In fact, far from it.

Pomni may come off as cold and jerkish due to her hot-temper, but in reality, her emotions simply have ahold on her more than anyone would ever really think.

Caine thinks that a therapist would benefit her. (honestly though)

She hasn't explored any hobbies outside from anything involving combat.

Pomni occasionally gets glimpses of visions when she dies; she is unaware of what they mean.

Pomni rarely gets drunk; she'll only indulge in alcohol when there's an occasion. Aside from that, she tends to limit Caine's alcohol intake (reasoning that he smells like booze), much to the Puppetmaster's dismay.

She shuts down any form of philosophical advices, thinking they're "typical" and "unnecessary".

She tends to be careless and rude in battle.

When push comes to shove, Pomni can and WILL use her sharp teeth to her advantage.

Pomni initially disliked Ragatha. She found the doll's positive demeanor eerie, and even uncanny, borderline inhuman. Thankfully, a few interactions and heart-heart conversations later, she's changed her mind since.

Bubble usually accompanies her when she's out on missions, a condition she had to agree on just so Caine would let her fight overburdened Puppets. Even though she hates the blimp's nonsense, she knows that his presence is out of necessity, since Bubble is the only way keeping in touch can be possible.

She rarely ever apologizes.

She once stole Caine's cane to try and figure out how his attacks work. She immediately lost interest once she found out it's just a plain, and boring metal cane.

She unlocks the first stage of enlightenment after the first boss.

Battle quotes:

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

"I didn't come here just for you to act like a wuss!"

"You. Me. This sword. In your head."

"That was pretty stupid of you to do."

"Between you and me, I prefer still having my head on my shoulders."

"This is getting annoying!"

"I've had it with you idiots!"

"I'm gonna celebrate with a Puppet head kebab once I'm done."

"I like the sounds of a sword slashing, and heads bashed in."

"Keep (talking/screaming), and I'll crack your skull open."

Hurt in battle:

"Ah! What the fuck!"

"You're gonna pay for that!"

"Eye for an eye, motherfucker!"

"I normally wouldn't mind... Actually, I always mind."

"When I'm done, you're gonna be unrecognizable."

"Fucking marionettes!"

"Useless scrap!"

"I really, really, REALLY wanna hurt you right about now."

"Ohohoho, you're picking the WRONG fight, BUDDY."

"Asshat!"

"Who do you think you are!?"

Dying:

"This... wasn't supposed to go this way..."

"God.... dammit."

"Agh... fuck."

"That... fucking... hurt."

"I still...! Got fight...! Left in me..."

"This... isn't... over..."

"I'm... not... done..."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

déjà vu

déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.

bnha chap. 362 n 403 spoilers ! childhood friends to lovers can you tell i'm inlove with this trope oooorrr…, angsty?? bittersweet hurt/comfort ?? fem reader, reader's height isn't specified but is shorter than katsuki's, reader gets a bit insecure but katsuki fixes that up rq, reader is very mushy n inlove with katsuki, (but aren't we all) katsuki loves reader very much in return

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks about primary school. you’re both ten, double digits. foolishly believing you were all grown up. katsuki’s fingers are white and dry from cleaning up the chalkboard, since you guys were tasked for clean up duty today.

or at least, you were. but your classmate suddenly vanished without a word and katsuki, as nice and helpful as he was (to you, at least) decided to stay behind to help you, don’t ask him where your cleaning buddy went, he has absolutely no idea and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

“ y’know—” he starts, soaking the soggy sponge into the water bucket next to him, then squeezing it out. “when we’re done with this stupid school stuff, i’ll go pro.” he states, slapping the sponge onto the board, creating a loud splat noise.

you, having heard this time and time before, simply look at him and smile, placing your classmates chairs on top of their desks row by row “mhm, i know !” you grin “ 'n you’ll be number one, right ?” you’re standing in between two desks, hands playing with your uniform skirt behind your back.

“hell yeah i will !” katsuki boasts, smirking. he scrubs at the board a little more vigorously.

“bad word !” you tease, giggling as you point at him “ 'm gonna tell miss you said a cuss word again !”

he huffs, turning around to scrunch his nose up and stick his tongue out at you, you stick yours out back playfully. “as if i care ! yer too much of a wuss to snitch on me anyways.”

“no I’m not, i’ll do it right now !” katsuki rolls his red eyes at you, returning to his task and wiping the board down in a zig zag motion. “ i don’t care” he reiterates.

you pout at his back and just then get an idea you’re sure will piss him off, a cat like grin pulls at your lips.

“okaaayy … then i’ll just tell your mom !” you sing, bursting into giggles when he swiftly turns around and waves the wet sponge in your direction. he’s too far to reach you but you dodge anyway, just to mess with him.

“no you won’t.”

“yeah, i will !” you counter, blowing a raspberry at him. you both break out into a fit of giggles when he aggressively dips the sponge into the water and flicks the droplets at you once more, before he decides to close the distance and chase you around your cramped little classroom growling and screaming, threatening you with the dirty sponge.

you’re squealing and giggling and laughing, trying to fend him off with a broom and even then, at ten. then when the concept of cherishing memories of the time you spend together wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind, katsuki remembers wishing he could stay with you like this forever.

when you’re both out of breath the classroom is just as messy—if not messier than it usually is. you give eachother a look then belly laugh some more.

you’re picking up chairs again and katsuki’s helping you, so it goes even faster. you don’t wanna go home because you won’t be seeing him anymore, but you have to admit your eager to finish and leave school.

katsuki’s back is to you on the second row and he can’t see you looking at him from the back row, he decides it’s time he says what he wanted to say before you got distracted. he clutches the legs of the chair he’s holding a little tighter.

“hey,” his voice comes suddenly in the quiet, it surprises you a little, you hum in response “ 'm really gonna go pro when we’re done with school, y’know.” he insisted.

you tilt your head wearily, looking at him with his back still turned to you. “yeah, i know.” you respond “you said that already.” you’re confused, he can’t hear the scrapping noise of the wooden chairs anymore, it’s annoyingly too quiet now.

“ you’re coming with me” he pauses, turning to you a little so you catch a peak of his quickly reddening face. it sounds like a statement but even then you know better. you don’t miss a beat, nodding furiously “uhuh, always !” his cheeks flare up more as he turns fully towards you. he walks over until the only thing separating you is the desk in between. he turns his back to you again to lean against the desk seperating you both.

“you’ll be with me, and we’ll be pro's together” he maintained. he feels his chest tighten when you offer him more of your pretty bright smiles and nods, you smile at him the way he knows you don’t with the other boys in class who are stupid enough to think they deserve even a second of your time and it makes him feel a little bit more confident as he speaks more clearly “a-and I’ll be number one, and you’ll be number two. but not behind me, with me, yknow ?” he feels stupid for having to explain himself but you don’t mind, as long as you can stay with katsuki you don’t mind which number you are. you move across the table so you can stand next to him. you nod and he let's out a little huff and a smile starts pulling at his mouth.

"a-and" he gulps " 'n then—i'll marry you."

it's quiet for just moment.

and then you register what he said and feel your entire body heat up.

"w-wha ?! " you sputter "marry me ?!" your wide eyes startle him as he glances at you but refuses to look over again. he's red to the tips of his ears, pulling at the bottom of his now longer tucked in shirt. despite the growing lump in his throat, he nods.

"mhm," he kicks at an eraser laying on the floor, the only noise heard coming from it hitting a wall a little further. you don't see where, you're still looking at him. " my ma says i can't do it now, since it's...illegal, or something." he scoffs dissaprovingly "b-but..when 'm older," he sucks in a breath, then suddenly turns to you causing you to sit up straighter in suprise, you feel your hands gripping the desk tighter and tighter as your face feels more and more on fire. "when i'm older—i'll do it. that way, none of those other losers will look at you."

he looks way more flustered than you but he's sitting up straight still, eyes determined and unwavering and it knocks the wind out of you, because for as long as you can remember katsuki's been the coolest.

there's absolutely no doubt in your mind he's embarrassed. if his face wasn't a dead give away, his posture and demeanor give it away just as much. you've known him for a long time now, since you were 6 years old and he had walked up to you. little newbie you, who had transferred in the middle of the school year and with nobody to play with. he was there, head held high with his friends in tow behind him, demanding to know what your quirk was and the rest was history.

katsuki persists even when he knows the odds are low, he perseveres and keeps kicking and punching and blowing up everything in his path where anyone else would've given up while they had the chance. like when he fought against those 4th graders while you were all still only in 2nd grade. his face was all messed up and he had a nosebleed, but he ended up winning. because he swore he would keep winning.

'cus that's what heroes do.'

katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'd win. even here, when he isn't fighting, instead confessing to you. he's red-faced, embarrassed out of his mind and nervous, but his shoulders are squared and there's no doubt in his eyes after he had just told you he would marry you. when he thought about being older, he thought about you being there with him.

and even after what you'd heard all you can think is that your katsuki is so cool.

so with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty little cramped classroom, you give him your response.

"mhm ! "

katsuki thinks about his last year of middle school.

today's the last day of your middle school life before you go off to high school and katsuki couldn't be happier to leave this shitty school. he's 15 now. older, but besides his features, remained the same (to you, at least) .

it's your last day and you finish it off with cleaning duty, ironically, and he remembers that day back in elementary. then proceeds to shake it off, hoping to shake off the embarrassing memories. but it doesn't seem to work because it feels like the universe is seriously fucking with him.

you're the one tasked with cleaning duty again and with your cleaning buddy, yet again, being nowhere to be found. katsuki yet again staying behind to help you out. and again, katsuki has absolutely no idea where your buddy went and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

it shouldn't be anything new, he stays and helps, albeit begrudingly, every time you have cleaning duty. but it feels different somehow. katsuki chalks it up to it being the end of the year.

the only difference from last time is you actually finish in record time. usually, that would've been great news, less time at school and even more free time katsuki can spend with you.

but you're quiet today.

you usually chat his ear off, and just because it's you, he chat's right back. wether you're messing around teasing each other or just talking about your day at school or who's house you're staying over at for the afternoon and which movie you're watching, you're always talking about something. it's comforting where he'd usually think it to be annoying with anyone else. but they aren't you.

and he doesn't like it.

when you finish you reach for your bag sitting neatly on top of your desk but katsuki stops you, grabbing your wrist. the feel of your soft skin has him involentarily flushing lightly, he ignores it in favor of squeezing your wrist when you don't immediately look back at him.

"what's up with you ?" he questioned gruffly. it comes out harsh, but that's not what you hear. you've known katsuki for a long time, after all. he's worried, you can tell. his words are rough around the edges but his eyes are soft, filled with care and the soft stroke of his thumb against you skin sends slight shivers down your spine when you turn to look at him shyly.

you open your mouth to deny him, but he can practically read your mind "don't give me that 'nothinngg' bullshit" your nose scrunches at the way his voice raises in pitch as he crudely mimicks you and a little smirk pulls at his face for only a moment before it falls again " don't go lyin' to me. know i hate that shit" he rasped.

you sigh, he's known you just as long as you'd known him after all.

you lean against your desk and he copies you, your shoulders brushing as he scoots himself a little closer to you. you jump up a little to sit on your desk, you're the same height as him like this. he scoots a little closer and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your desk to lean on it, fingers inches away from yours.

"i just—" you faltered "this our last day of school. when the day is over we'll be high schoolers." you stated. katsuki scoffs jokingly and leans a bit closer to you "what ? you tellin' me youre gonna miss this dump ? last i heard, you were the first one who wanted to leave so you wouldn't have to deal with mr. nakamura anymore." he jests, trying to lighten the mood as best he could, the worry in his eyes still shining bright. a smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you huff out a little giggle.

"yeah well, i won't be missing mr. nakamura. or his stupid tests" you pretend to shiver as you cringe "at all." katsuki let's out a cute chuckle. he's like a magnet, you feel yourself scooting closer to where he's leaning next to you, like you're being pulled closer to him, you don't mind. you never mind being close to katsuki.

"but..?" he coaxed, knowing that wasn't all you wanted to say.

"but.." you continue "but i'll miss this, yknow ? like—the school itself wasn't..the best" katsuki scoffs in response but doesn't interrupt "the teachers weren't either. but—i dunno—this. being here." you confess, you stare down at your shoes as you kicks your legs aimlessly into the air " we've spent such a long time here, and now we're leaving. we went from being the youngest—to the oldest, to going back to being the youngest again, and that in itself isn't the problem.."

"then what is ?" he raises a brow.

"we're gonna be in a completely different school, with completely different people—"

"but we'll be together." he interrupts "you said you wanted to go to ua too" you said you were gonna stay with me is what he wants to say, but it's childish and that wouldn't be fair to you.

"of course, i still do !" you reassure "but—there'll be tons of new, strong, cool people at ua.."

"maybe even stronger and cooler than me.." you trail off. you don't need to say more for katsuki to understand what you mean and it pissed him off.

"shut up." he growls.

"katsuki—"

"no. shut the fuck up." he's right in front of you before you can blink. you reflexively part your legs and he takes the opportunity to stand even closer to you, right in your space. you feel your cheeks warm at the proximity, you’re close enough to see it's apparently affecting him too, his cheeks turning a cute pink but as stubborn as your katsuki is he doesn't budge. as usual.

you don't exactly know what you and katsuki are. you know you like him, you know you have for a long time. and you'd like to believe he likes you too. he doesn't act the way he does with you the way he does with his other friends (or his lackeys as he calls them, you're the only one he openly calls his friend) but he doesn't really have anyone close to him besides you, so you don't know if he'd act this way with someone else.

the thought leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, so you decide to focus on something else. something else being katsuki, of course, he's all up in your space. his gaze not allowing you to look or even think about anything else but him.

"who i meet at ua doesn't fuckin' matter, they'll all be weaksauce compared to me anyway" he states smugly, causing you to huff out a laugh again " i don't care if theyre cool, or strong" his nose scrunches up in disgust as he quips venomously "i don't care about any of that—and i don't hang out with you because of that either—i fuckin' care about you because you're you."

your heart stutters.

" what, you think i hang out witcha because of superficial shit like that ? you mockin' me or something ?"

"no, no course not !" you insist, shaking your head.

" exactly, so don't..." he huffs, looking away from you towards the ground, there's a random eraser lying on the ground and he kicks it "don't go saying dumb shit like that."

"i don't waste my time with just anyone, 's why i'm wastin' it with your ass" he jokes, chuckling when you squeeze his nose in response. supressing a smile you whine at him when he leans forward to bite yours.

"katsuki, you're gross !" you giggle as you push at his face, he smiles lightly at the sound of your laughter, one of his favorite sounds. "ya started it." he disputes weakly, his smile turning into a smirk when you groan and then it falls again as he looks at you seriously.

" but seriously" he starts "i mean it, y'know. don't just say shit to say it"

"i know" you smile. he grunts in acknowledgement then continues.

"i don't care about how cool those future ua asshats are gonna be. you're different, you're not like that—i mean—that's not what i look at—what i see with you" he fumbles around for his words and groans, slamming his forehead against your shoulder. you're used to katsuki being physical, but that was usually when he was being annoying, pinching and prodding and biting at you. he's rarely ever this affectionate. it's different, but nice..really nice, so you savor it while you can. your fingers twitch a little closer to his and you decide to take a leap of faith, placing your hands ontop of his. he flinches and you're about to pull back when he grips your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. you feel him huff into your uniform. his hair tickles as he shuffles his head deeper inside your shoulder.

"you're not like those other losers, y'not like anyone" he explains "you're—when you're around it's like you're glowing. you're bright and when you talk, everyone sorta—gets pulled towards you like you're some typa magnet" his hands get warmer against yours as he speaks. you're surprised that he sees you this way, when that's practically the same way you see him.

" you pull people in so easily, and it pisses me off that you don't realise it. you are strong, and cool and everything else but that's not all you are. s'not all i care about."

"you're annoying. and whiney. extremely annoying, actually" he chuckles, and you pull at his ear "but—" he continues "but you're..fun to be around or whatever, wouldn't be around you otherwise. you're too fuckin' nice and your taste in music isn't bad" katsuki grumbles.

he wants to say more, so much more. he wants to say he thinks the way you immerse yourself when you're watching a movie together is adorable. the way you hold yourself back from commenting during the movie so as not to be annoying, even thought he could listen to you naming street signs and never get bored. the way your eyes light up when you get your grade back for a test you had studied your ass off for, when you come to him showing off your hard work it makes him want to hold you and never let go. he wants to say the way you're not scared to banter and bicker with him, the way your nose scrunches up when you try to hold in your laughter when he passes you a crudely drawn picture of your homeroom teacher, the way you smile at him whenever you see him, whenever he shares his umbrella or your lunches even though you have your own and he has his, makes him want to kiss you silly.

he wants to say all this and more, but he knows the words won't come out right, they never do. but somehow you understand and it's another thing he admires—that he loves about you.

"i...didn't know you felt that way" is all you can quietly muster up. you're cute, he feels you squeezing his hands a little tighter " yeah you didn't, cus i didn't tell you" he ribbed. you huff out a 'dont be annoying" gruffly and he chuckles. the asshole.

your asshole, though, your heart decides.

you're both quiet, everything is quiet and you're happy, reassured. you'd be happy if this is where the conversation ended but katsuki never fails to surprise you today it seemed.

" 'sides" he squeezes your hands tighter "i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ? how can i do that if i'm not around you, hah ?"

you're heart skips approximately three beats at the memory of his promise and you lean back to look at his fully red cheeks and his fleeing eyes.

"you still remember that ?" you ask incredulously. he rolls his eyes but you can tell it's simply to save face as he responds " of course i do. wasn't that long ago."

"but—we were like—ten when that happened. "

"so ?" he responds simply "doesn't change nothin'. i told you, i don't say shit to just say it."

you're flustered and so utterly confused, but there's a happy feeling bubbling in your stomach at his words " but we're not even dating !"

"we're not ?" of course not , he knows he hadn't properly asked you to be his girlfriend. but he figured if he talked about the memory that seemed to refuse being pushed aside, he could casually sneak by what he was too embarrassed to ask. but of course, you never make it easy for him.

"no, we aren't" you pout, crossing your arms at him. he grumbles, reaching to pull your arms away from your chest but you're stubborn, he was right about you being extremely annoying. "cut that out," he hissed.

"mm-mm ! " you shake your head "you can't just decide we're together. i didn't even know you liked me like that.." you trail off shyly. katsuki looks utterly baffled "hah?! whaddya mean you didn't know ? you don't see me actin' like this with anyone else do you ?"

"that's cus you're mean to everyone else !" you choked out, puffing your cheeks out at him.

"well yeah ! but—that's the thing, i'm not mean to you !" he defends, faltering when you raise a brow at him "fuck off, m'not that mean ! i'm just messing with you !" he rebutted. you simply roll your eyes at him and after a moment he sighs.

"fine" he concedes "i should've told you i liked you, i don't just decide that i want you to be my girlfriend when it's convenient for me or something" he keeps quiet about how you could of also told him you liked him as well for now, for fear of you getting moody at him again.

you still look away from him and he groans "hey c'mon, look at me." he utters sincerely. after a minute, you offer him a glance and he takes his opportunity, turning your face towards him, holding back a grin when he feels how warm your cheeks are.

"do you...wanna be my girlfriend ?" he stammers, looking at you with his red cheeks and bashful red eyes, and yet his gaze doesn't falter.

so cool.

it's your last day of middle school, your last day before you go off to a different school with different people. but with your katsuki by your side, and that's all that matters to you.

and with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty classroom, you give him your response by pressing your lips to his softly.

katsuki thinks about the night before today, when you'd knocked at his door in the dead of night.

usually, on any other day, he'd have scolded you for being up so late but would've ended up letting you in anyway. but lately, things hadn't been as they had been before..everything happened. and he could tell you were upset, so he simply let you in without a word.

you take the liberty of laying down in his bed like you used to back at his house and back at the dorms. he doesn't mind. it feels familiar, comforting.

he lies down next to you and you immediately latch onto him, seeking his warmth. with your head in his chest, you hold onto him tightly, like he'll dissapear if you don't. he clings to you just as tightly.

"what's up with you ?" he mumbles sleepily, softer than when he would've if he were more awake, but still focusing all of his attention onto you.

he feels you shake against his chest "jus' wanted to be wif you" he hears you mumbles. he presses his lips to the top of your head, pressing a sweet little kiss onto it as you breathe "you know that's bullshit." he reprimands, he feels you squeeze him tighter. he squeezes your waist twice, his warm hands running up and down your sides "c'mon, talk to me" he prodded

you look up at him and he looks down at you. your eyes are glossy, he can tell even in the dark and he's sure you were crying a little. his theory is confirmed when he hears you let out a little sniffle, his heart breaks at the sound. his heart breaks even more when you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping at the front of his shirt.

"baby," he pleads softly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, mouth and cheeks when you whine. "tell me what's bothering you, yeah ?"

"m'just—you're gonna be fighting tomorrow, and we all are and i know you're strong but you'll be in the front lines against him" you blubbered, you hiccup as tears roll down your cheeks " and i know you're strong. but katsu, i can't—" you gasp. he shushes you softly, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips. he knows what you're gonna say, he knows you're worried. he's known you for so long after all.

he hated himself the day he woke up after the first war. when he woke up to you crying at his side, with you yourself still being injured. he hates how much he worried you that day and he knows that the fleeting glances you give him whenever you have a briefing with the pro's, the way you stare off at nothing whenever you catch a glimpse of his scars, are all out of worry for him. he did the same after he had found out you had also been heavily injured during the brawl, so he can't say he wouldn't do the same way.

"baby, babe—look at me" he intones softly, grabbing onto your tear stained cheeks to get you to look at him, he's close so he's sure you can see him despite the darkness. he can't help pressing another kiss to your lips " nothing's gonna happen, okay ?" he reassures, rubbing your cheek softly.

"i can't see you like that again, katsuki. i just can't" you whimper, leaning into his hand.

"you won't, promise you won't." he vows. he knows you're even more worried because you'll both be in different areas and he hates he won't be able to keep his eye on you. but you're strong and cool and everything else, so he trusts you'll be okay "i need you to trust me"

"i do" you sniffle, taking a deep breath "i do trust you, but i just—don't wanna see you get hurt, kacchan"

he sighs softly, staring at you lovingly as he pulls you towards his chest. you nuzzle against him and he presses his mouth to the side of your head. "i can't promise i won't be gettin' hurt, s'gonna happen on the job" he says carefully, rubbing your back "but i promise i'll always come back to you. no matter how fucked up i get, i'll win. for you." he declares, feeling you shove your head deeper against his shoulder.

you remember how despite getting extremely injured by shigaraki, he recovered in record time. it seemed nothing could stop your boyfriend from proving to the world he was the best. because katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. because to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'll win.

and despite the worry and the fear gnawing at you, you can't help but think your katsuki is so fucking cool.

so you nod against his shoulder and he feels the collar of his shirt grow wet, but he doesn't mind as your grip on him loosens lightly until you can feel yourself falling asleep.

before you fall though, you hear katsuki speak.

"besides, i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ?"

he feels you smile into his neck, and you give him your response by happily nodding into his shoulder with a hum.

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks of the promises he's made. he thinks of the promise he made to his old hag to not cause you, such a sweet girl, too much trouble. he remembers the promise he made to his old man to stay safe while he went out on patrol and when he'd fight against shigaraki for the second time. he remembers the promise he made to himself to get his limited edition all might card signed one day. and he remembers the promise he'd made when he said he'd always, always come back to you.

and he remembers the promise he'd made to marry you. the promise that you both would be together and none of the other losers would look at you.

so when he awakens, katsuki doesn't bother to ask why or how.

he simply fights and keeps fighting, so he can win, no matter how fucked up he gets.

and always, always come back to you.

[romantic-disarray]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・.・゜

“—No thank you.” How many has it been since then? “I'm not interested.” Rejection after rejection.

You could only stare as Rin turned down another box of chocolates one of the girls prepared for him on this specific day. You watched as the expression on the girls face turned sour, nose scrunching, and forced a quivering smile out of her.

“Ah, I see.” You watched as she walked away in a solemn manner. Yeah, you watched.

That's what you've been doing all day. You watched as your best friend rejected every person that dared to offer him anything on Valentines, and each time you see another one approaching—it strikes fear within your heart.

Because you knew, had you not decided to be a wuss and hide the love letter in your bag earlier that morning—you'd probably be the one in their shoes. Rin gestured for you to follow him after a few seconds of standing in the middle of the hallways, and you reluctantly followed, a bit tired now that you've finally reached the end of the day.

You heaved a heavy sigh, “Are you tired?” Rin asked, staring while you stretched your back. You hummed, before chuckling, “A bit, I got pushed around by your fans a lot. But it was worth it, seeing them all fawn over you was hilarious.” You joked.

It was true though, no matter how painful their harsh pushes past you were—seeing them fight over one guy was funny to watch. Even if that one guy was the person you were currently unrequited with. Rin stayed quiet, one hand reaching over to unzip his bag and rummaged through it.

You stared in anticipation, not sure as to what he was looking for. “Here.” To your surprise, Rin held a box of chocolates in front of you. Your eyes widened, wondering where and when he got the chocolates, “It's from one of the people who gave it to me, I'm not sure who, I forgot.” You being the tired person you were, thought nothing of it and instead slowly held the end of the box while his fingers tightly gripped onto the other one.

“I don't really like chocolate, they taste like wax.” He murmured quietly, a small stitch to his eyebrows already said a lot about what he felt. “They're lukewarm, right?” You playfully teased, and Rin unsurprisingly nodded his head in agreement.

“Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then.” You hummed, usually the two of you go home together, so why is he in a rush now? “Aren't we gonna go home together?” You asked way too quickly, not even considering that fact that he must be tired after being the star of the whole school earlier.

“Sorry, that sounded desperate...” Your apology was immediately followed by an awkward laugh. Rin lightly shook his head, “It's fine. I'm just... Tired. Bye.” You rose a brow, he said bye a little too quickly just now. Just what is going on in his head?

Rin slowly began to walk away while you looked back down at the crimson box in your hands, lightly staring at it before it hit you.

“Wait. You never accepted any of their chocolates.” Rin paused, almost like he'd been caught. Your eyes widened, a blush immediately creeping up your cheeks when you finally realized.

“You bought me these?!” You yelled, a little too loudly. You covered your mouth and whispered a small apology to nobody in particular. Rin did not dare to turn around, instead he gave you a small wave, “I'll see you tomorrow.” He said, before continuing to walk—just a little bit faster this time.

You smiled widely and ran to his side, not letting him escape when he'd just done the sweetest thing anyone has ever did for you. “That is so sweet of you.” You lightly nudged his side. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.” Rin stayed quiet, too busy staring at the gate ahead of him, before he sighed when the silence that followed was too unbearable.

“... You're welcome.”

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜

[ikkosu]

Earthspark bumblebee is currently rotting my brain from the inside out so could I ask for so fluffy fem shyer human and bumblebee who are crushing hard for each other but keep both of them keep prolonging confessing to the other the terrans realize what's going on and take it upon themselves try to get them to confess their feelings to each other

SUNSHINE

bumblebee x shy!fem!reader

a/n: tfe bee is so big brother energy 😭 he reminds a lot of what rid bee could be. I had a lot of fun writing this ! totally didn't rewatch all the bee scenes to get his character right,,,,,totally didn't. (I don’t write fluff often so i treid my best I swear)

[i]

"When are you gonna suck it up like a man and confess?"

Twitch startled you from above as the whirs of her fan hummed gently, hovering around you in her alt-mode.

"C'mon! What're you gonna say, huh? Turn away from the problem like you always do?"

Gloved hands, scathed with dirt, halted in the midst of pulling out a persistent weed. You feel your temple burn, a nervous laugh bubbled from your throat as your fingers plunged into the soil once more, pawing around to find the root of the problem.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!".

"I don't know what you mean."

When you did find the source, delicately you curled your fingers into the crevices, balling the soil then, with a huff, yanked the roots out. You're careful not to damage the nearby flowers.

When confronted at the baselines of your problems, you often churn into a sputtering mess. Sometimes, you have to clarify that no, you’re not angry, or no you’re not daunting — that’s your facial expressions constricting. Because if you don't. You're going to cry. And you're going to cry lots over matters daintier than an atom.

"Wuss."

"Twitch. Really you are trying." You sigh when the drone nudged your back.

A quick zip-zap of metallic whirs and she’s in her usual form, yellow eyes ablaze, arms crossed, leaning over with a scowl. Her hips jutted out, sassed-esque — a pose Dorothy used often when she's mad.

"I appreciate your concern but—"

“Dont even try to push it away. I'm not stupid." She prods, getting up to your face. Really, this adorable thing is half a step away from making you ostrich-dunk your head into the soil. "Oh, let me guess : tongue, tied? Busy thinking about a certain someone? Someone, or a bot so yellow like the sun, it’s blinding your eyes?”

You don’t even know where to begin. So, you look into the soil really hard, like you’re trying to find something worth focusing on. Oh, look. A worm. Bingo.

"I'm going to eat that worm if you're not going to look at me."

"Twitch—" You began.

Then, she’s shoved away.

"Sorry, you see. Wh-what she's saying is that, well, you know—" Thrash nudged his head into view, twiddling his thumbs as a demure, placating smile eased on his soft face. "...it's high time you...tell 'im how you feel?"

This time you want to plunge your head into the soil. It’s not a want, it’s a need. The scent of earth was purging strong, beckoning you with it's heed, as you, yet again, choke back another sound. You laugh, nervous. God, this earthworm! So, interesting. Haha. So...so...er. Hm.

"Pshh. How I feel? I feel fine."

"I mean...about your, uh, crush on bee."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Twitched groaned, rolling around the grass all the way from the stack of hays to the tip of your boots. Then, she repeated the motion, each rant about your supposed love life —also, none-existent, if you will— becoming more fervent. That is, until Thrash had plucked her up by the arm pits and she fell limp like a doll in his hold.

" You said you’d be nice about it."

"What’s there to be nice about?! They’re being so smushy mushy , oh darling so lovely, it's giving me the critters!” She growled, clawing the air

You stood up with an uncertain hunch in your shoulder. You’re still holding the clump of soil in your rubber gloves, back taut and jaws slacked. The earthworm was gone, buried in the soil somewhere. You hoped it had a a nice stay unsurfaced for once — and you really should keep twitch away from Wheeljack. She's even swearing, now. She swears!

“Come on, now Twitch. It isn’t so bad.” You say quietly, not trusting yourself to yell at the skies in full volume. Really, you’ll disentigrate.

“You don’t get to talk, wuss.”

“Twitch!’’

“What?”

“Mom said be nice. A person’s word is like a kni—“

"Yeah, well she's a liar!" You shrunk asher digit juts your way. "That's gotta breach the fifteenth rule, right? A whole machete stab?"

Thrash seemed surpise. "You actually remember the rules."

You're exasperated. "What rules? And, what on earth are you both talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me!"

"Really, I'm not." Oh my god, are you really having a verbal spar with a — with a child of all bots that's half your size?!

"Oh, yeah? Then why you're nervous, huh? If you're not nervous then you've got nothing to hide."

"I'm not nervous." You said, blinking profusely.

Twitch made a face. "You're gardening."

"The grass looked bad."

"You garden when you're nervous."

You feel your lungs gave out. Your inner you's are bouncing around in your skull, panicking and screaming in disbelief. Alarm signals, blaring inside. How did she know?!

"N..no? I garden when I'm....happy." You kick the ground sheepishly. Bad call. The soil tipped over a your hold, little dots of brown mingled with the grass. Oh, dear.

"Happy? Please. You're nervous because big 'ol bee didn't have the spark to confess to missy sweet spark with barely any roots to hold herself." Twitch huffs. She's getting to sassy for her own good — "And so are you, wuss."

"We're friends!" You said, though the term was lacking. "Normal friends. Buddy, even. Buddy friends...haha...."

Thrash stiffens.

Twitch deadpans.

Both at the same time uttered : "Really?"

[ii]

They're hiding in a bush. A bush of all places. No, not the tree, obscured by the leaves and a leverage with the branches. Or, whatever hiding place is deemed suitable for this operation. A bush. Can you believe that?

Fluffy Ears nestled herself on the grass, curious eyes skimming over the several Terrans peeking over the bush. Thrash brought it upon himself to hide in the barn because, as per his words, a good spy needs a good hiding place.

The only good thing about his 'prowling' tendencies is the fact he falls asleep during these so-called covert operations. Which is why he gets most of the ranks during training. What a scammer.

Jawbreaker was too large to hide behind a,ugh, bush so he was demoted to simply standing a few meters back, loitering by the fence.

Twitch feels something poking her rib plate. Can't the spot get any more cramped? "Nightshade, I swear to Primus—"

"Hush! There he is! The first move. Hashtag, commence operation : video!"

"That's not even—"

"On it!" Hashtag wrangled out the most, honest to Unicron, humongous camera in existence.

Silence veiled the three Terrans as they spot the yellow black approaching their resident gardener-who-normally-comes-at-the-weekends-and-bee-is-distraught-over-that-fact, tending the newly planted flowers by the hedge.

"So, I was wondering..." He's stretching on his toes, not exactly looking at you.

How could he? Everytime he so much as to catch a glimpse of your face, he feels like tripping over his own pedes and burrowing himself into the ground until comets rain, the world in flames — and god knows when would Primus let him out again.

"You need something, bee?" You swivel up, pawing your apron to get off the dirt from your gloves.

But he looks confused, optics lowered downwards, brows furrowed. You look as well, then up.

"Yellow, huh." He looks away, pointing to your torso.

You look down again then realized what he meant. Your face burns with a vengeance.

"My other apron broke." You try not to stammer but it's proven futile as an amused smile eased over his face. "A-alex decided to give me his, well, you know one of his precious merch which...is typically your...um face on it. If it makes you uncomfortable—"

"No! Gosh, no. You can wear it all you want. I'm just surprised, that's all. You never really... Besides, it's nice...." He looks down and kicks the grass a little, servos behind his back. "It...suits you well."

At the compliment you look up, hoping not to make eye contact, but he does as well and you're both held at a stalemate. His round almond optics droop. For a moment, his lips part, then it shuts. He looks down, avoiding your gaze.

Is he... flustered? At that thought, you fisted the apron, bunching it a little. You look away, hiding the way you smiled a little. " ...It's a pretty color. Yellow, I mean. Honeybee. I love bees."

He looks back up, blue optics flared, and into your eyes. His chassis did those little backward flips and, he swears to Primus, he'll simply disintegrate. You're a lovely color too.

Bee flinched the moment you turn to him at break neck speed, sputtering, eyes wide and face, all the more flustered.

"What?"

"What?" He said that out loud. He said it. Out. Loud. He held up his servos. "I-i meant it's a lovely color. As in, you know, you're a lovely color so like when you said yellow was a lovely color. I thought— What I mean by that is— Oh, forget it." He lets out a deep vent. "It's been a long day. Sorry."

"You're fine. It's fine, I mean." You said. When silence veils over you both (Twitch really wants to strangle you, right now) you speak up again, quietly. "You were going to ask something...?"

His door wings pike up in surprise, much to his chagrin.

"Oh, right. Forgot about that." He coughed and cleared his throat. " I was wondering If you were...you know..." Gosh, what's that word. "Freethisweekend?"

It was so quick and quiet, you didn't really grasp much of what he uttered. “I got free— what's the next—"

"This weekend." He said, then trailed off. "Free... this weekend."

"Oh..." You look to the ground, hands primly folded behind your back.

"To... ah,” Just ask her out. Just ask her out. Worse she can say is no and no. No is fine! If you don't ask, you'll never know. That's what Elita said, right? Right? He sags. She said a lot of things.

He decides to go in for the kill but the moment he met your eyes, your pretty eyes, your temple grew warm, like really warm. He feels his own face burning and he starts stumbling over his words. “Free to. To go. To, um, a, well, a...d—dah, dah, duh, die, no! A, ah, diversion! Yes! Right. Diversion."

A domino effect of forehead slapping commenced. Bee, you fool! Twitch was wrangled back by Hashtag from leaping over the bush.

"Diversion?" Your face furrowed.

"With the....Terrans!" He snapped his servos. " Right, the Terrans. You know, a new lesson I made. Figured you'd be there for support. It's all about the essence of....diversion."

You stand there, mouth opening then closing. "...Sure, I guess. What time?"

"Anytime you're free." He says it, almost breathlessly.

You blink. "I thought it was a scheduled lesson."

His door wings pike up again. He groaned internally. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, uh. Yeah. Right. Schedule….schedule…So, how's ten tommorow? I'll round up the kids by then."

"Sounds good."

"Good. Good. See you....later."

You wave, then turned around, rounding the corner of the house. The moment you did, your face crumbled and you hid your face into your palms, a whine seethed inside your throat. Bee, however, pressed his helm against his servo, sighing.

How did I messed that up so badly?

Meanwhile, in the bush.

"Cut the film, Hash." Twitch resigned.

"But he could push on!"

"I highly doubt that." Nightshade was already crawling away.

Jawbreaker clicked thought the comms. "I saw yellow leaving. Is everything alright?"

"Nothing. Is Thrash dead? Thought so. Saw his head peeking out from the barn. Someone get him, please."

And, while they're all about to regroup. Twitch just had the perfect idea. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

[v]

Night plunged the skies, freckled with stars reflecting off his windshield as he rolled underneath the veil of darkness.

"Bee quick! Come to the barn! A problem just came up!"

"Twitch?" He was about to scale another ramp when he halted midway, changing course immediately. "C'mon talk to me. What's the problem?"

"Just come! It's urgent!"

Seeds of inky doubts blotched into his mind. The little runt had a lot of tricks up her sleeves. Sure, she's a heavy hitter but also a decent liar. Last time she pulled off the same shtick he was pushed into a hole....filled to the brim with mud. He walked around the vicinity and stank like cow feces for days.

He really should stop letting twitch mingle with Wheeljack.

His wheels rolled up to a stop in front of the barn. The trees, inky black, loomed around the farm, towering above him. He felt a shudder up his spine. Leaves rustled. Crickets chirp. All was quiet. Too quiet.

"Twitch? Kids?" He slid the barn door aside, joints whirring with every step. Hay crunched under his pedes. " Ugh, not this again. Guys, seriously. If, if this, Primus who littered this place? If this is one of your jokes I swear to— huh?"

The basement door was open. A gaping hole, black and swarthy greeted his eyes. Who left that open? He took a step closer. "Guys? Are you in there? What's going on?"

Another step. Then another.

"Look, you can come out now. This isn't funny."

The hole grew bigger, bigger and— Footsteps pattered behind him. It was gentle but it drew alarm as Bumblebee whirled around. And, there she was. Twitch stood before him, a wide, chesire grin on her face. The moonlight illuminated her from behind, casting an ominous shadow that loomed In front of her figure.

"Adios!"

He sputtered in confusion and felt two pedes connecting with his chest and he's sent stumbling back down the steps of Nightshade's underground lab. His shout of surprise was quickly drowned out when Twitch pulled the door shut.

"There! That'll do it." She grinned, fists on her hips. “You got that hash?”

“All on tape. Even his face too! Did you see how he looked like?” Hash stepped out of her hiding place, literally behind the hay. The original culprit of hay litter-er. "They're gonna be there for hours! Trapped in each other's embrace! Oohhhh this is so rad. You've seen those rom-coms, right? It's going be so funny when they come back out.”

"With result." Nightshade chirped, coming up beside them. "It's been awhile something has transpired. A change of the usual routine. Oh, the bore of waiting so long. As a scientist myself. I admit — it can get a little bothersome. Let's only hope the heat from the generator can keep them warm."

Silence. Hashtag feels two optics on her.

"Generator, what generator?"

"....Hashtag." They begin slowly. Twitch looks mortified.. "....Please tell me you didn't cut off the generator when I said only to cut off the vault."

Confusion furrowed her brows. "How else would the door be locked if I didn't?"

Twitch groaned, head into her palms.

Nightshade stares at the closed vault. "....Oh, dear."

[vi]

"Unnfh!" His helm collided against the floor. Great. That’s just great. Mentor student. Mentor student! You don’t do this to your mentors! Annoyance bubbled inside his chassis and he grits his teeth. That is it. That is it. He’s had enough of her tomfoolery, her jokes, her tricks! Tommorow, he’s going to put her through hell and back—

“Bee?” He feels something warm touching his shoulder.

His helm swivels up, then his optics widens in surpise when your nose is inches away from his own. You make a flustered sound, suddenly falling back on your ass to put space between you both, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d uh be that close.” Was a soft mumble. “The fall looked like it hurt. You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m fine.” He breaths out, scrambling up to sit properly. He’s not sure what position, so he curled up his knee plates to his chassis. Your eyes are too…impossible to look at. “Think I broke a joint there.”

“You break joints too?”

He huffs a laugh, “You don’t think we do?” “I mean as in,” You gesture to his body, “ You know, cracking joints. Is it equivalent to me popping my knuckles? I saw you did it this morning when you stretch.” You trailed off, then shake your head. “Sorry, it’s a stupid question.”

“It’s fine. It’s not stupid. You’re not….stupid.” He clears his throat, “We also experience cramps. Tension in the joints when, well, like how a rusty hinged door won’t open up all the way.”

“Oh, that’s one way to put it.” You scoot a bit closer, pressing up against his leg. Bumblebee stiffens, servos moving over to stiffly cup your back to keep on you warm. The air was unusually chilly today. His quick scans showed the generator wasn’t working. Did the lights went out? His servos graze over your shoulders, massaging it a little, then behind your neck.

“And, and that one time. I don’t think you know him yet, he’s an old friend back during the war," He starts rambling for something to say anything to keep the conversation going, “His name’s Ratchet. Old bot forgot to oil up his pistons and couldn’t move for an entire day! Can you believe that? We had to carry him everywhere we went. Once, I was caught in the crossfire. Bullets were raining. Full on barrage. Nonstop. And he’s just like that, a plank of wood in my arms as I ran. You should’ve seen the look in his face!

“I can imagine he’s not happy,” A giggle bubbled in your throat. His audials perk up. “Yeah, I can tell. He’s a lot less crass in his manners when he dealt with me,” Bee leans a bit close, the servo skims down to your torso. “After all the bedgruding looks I’ve gotten from him — he’s got no choice but to give me special treatment of letting me off a few scolding.” “Oh? Why’s that,”

“I’m not exactly the prim and proper type.”

“My, my is bee the rebellious type?”

He lowers his voice into a playful whisper. “I had a phase, okay? Everyone does. Mine, though, it’s just worse than Arcee’s. She’s unhinged too but waaaay less moody. But don’t tell the kids that. I’m not going to have my name sullied, you hear?”

“Noted, officer. But I really can’t promised I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

He groans then a digit nudges your ribs. “No, really I’m serious. They’re going to kill me with that. I don’t want another incident to tarnish my reputation. Ive got Jawbreaker pestering me about how I made a mistake choosing my first alt-mode, I don’t need another slander. My feelings,” he says with a servo over his chassis, “they’re fragile.”

“Come on,” you leaned forward, cheek against his leg plate. Bee looks away, holding himself back from, well, squishing that…squishy part of your face. “It’s not so bad. The beetle looked adorable.”

“Beetle. Really? Beetle?” He looked almost offended you termed it that way.

“Isn’t that what it’s called?” He leans over and flicks your head. “I’d prefer it if you called it something else.”

You laugh. “I’ll bite, then. The Beatles?”

“No,” He said the words too fast, “Honey.”

You freeze. He freezes.

He did not just say that. Oh, no. He did not. He did not. When you look away that’s when he panicked. No! He’s not going to let the past few minutes go to waste! “As in yellow! Honey as in yellow!” He backpedaled, raising up his servos. “You know when I— when you said that, I was—" What’s up with him today? Then, he sags, muttering defeatedly. “It’s not what you think I meant to say.”

He’s blown it. Thrown it all down the drain. All his hard work now crumbled at the mere touch of his fingertips. You speak up after a moment, “What if…I wanted it to be what I think you meant?”

He looks at you again, surprise. He felt his spark clenching. This time you held firm eye contact despite your hands that were shaking. Think about gardening. Think about gardening. This is like that! Like he’s a flower. Gentle to hold. You steeled yourself and stood up on your toes, palms on his knee plates as you leaned in close.

“What did you meant?” You said softly.

His servos reached out to cup your cheek, curling his digits around the back of your hair. You leaned against his touch, closing your eyes. It was warm. His touch was warm. Pulsing and thrumming against your face.

“What I meant is that you’re someone important to me.” Then, he pulls you close, his optics flickering back and forth nervously. “So important I….think about you a lot. Like, a lot. I can’t….really stop. Even when I want to….its hard.”

Your face burns but you’re not letting that deter you. If god decided to kill you today, you’d steel on, wading through his comets. Think about the garden! You close the distance and your lips find the crook of his nose, pressing a gentle kiss to it, then his cheek. Your palms rested on his shoulder. Bee blinks, choking back a surpised sound at the touch but his servos manage to find your waist, curling his digits around the fabric of your shirt and pulls you close. He tilts his head so his lips would find yours.

“I think about you too.” You mumble against his lips.

[but-a-humble-goon]

top 10 best hand-to-hand fighters in the DCU??

just wanna know ur opinions on this, it's really interesting to see the diff answers ppl give!

There's probably like hundreds and hundreds of characters I'm forgetting or are gaps in my knowledge because this is DC. Also not including Karate Kid because he's around centuries in the future and also that's basically cheating. -Cassandra Cain, (the only person alive who can somewhat consistently beat Shiva when they're both at their best. Name any martial artist in the DC universe and the odds are she's humiliated them. Like half of the shit she does in every single issue is flagrantly physically/biologically/logistically impossible) -Lady Shiva & Richard Dragon (it's established the two meet up to duel constantly and as of yet neither has definitively proven themselves superior so they share a spot) -White Canary (according to Dinah she's as good as if not better than Cass or Shiva but she does also back down from Shiva like a total wuss so that's probably a slight exaggeration, nonetheless she certainly proves herself to be in the same ballpark) -Strix (Shiva calls her one of the most impressive fighters she's ever seen and shall we say everything we see her do certainly backs up that assessment. Plus she has the same acrobat training as Nightwing) -Conner Hawke (He's basically only ever lost a fair fight to one of the above. He fought Shiva and gave almost as good as he got and even Cass concedes he's pretty good and if you know her she does not compliment lightly) -Bronze Tiger (can handily kick Batman's ass as well as basically everyone else in his league like Deathstroke, Black Canary, Catman etc, can at least hold his ground against the likes of the top 3) -Nightwing (he's usually held to be better than Bats and he's handled Deathstroke with relative ease a couple of times. Not to mention his absurd talent at acrobatics. I'd put him at the top of the A tier) -Deathstroke (we're really splitting hairs at this point but yeah, generally Slade's pretty much considered unstoppable by most people. There's a good reason the Bats' standard procedure when going up against him is to just pay him off) -Black Canary (really this spot could have gone to Batman or David Cain just as easily but in addition to being as good as those two Dinah has the best track record when it comes to being the underdog and winning through sheer grit and adaptability. I'd put my money on her scoring a surprise win against any of the heavy hitters on this list over those two)

[feroluce]

So this ficlet-ish thing was inspired by @hydrachea, nsfw super genius extraordinaire, but also by the fact that in addition to Boothill's left eye being cybernetic, I like to hc even the parts of him that look human aren't fully natural. I mean the dude eats bullets, after all. I think he should also have vents in his mouth so he can literally blow smoke/steam, it would look super cool. Think Father Gascoigne or Studio BONES' Todoroki. We as a fandom deserve that!!

So anyway, of course, sometimes these vents get blocked up and need to be cleaned manually. Thankfully, Dan Heng is super helpful ☆

Like there's one day where Boothill is lazing around in the archives, fresh off a bounty and happily soaking up the luxury of the Astral Express after however long he's spent tracking his prey through all the dust and dirt with almost no rest.

Boothill likes it in the archives. It's not silent, but it's quiet. There's no music and only muffled voices from outside, but there's the hum of all the computer systems. It makes for a nice place to hide away and recharge when he's just finished exhausting himself.

And besides, Dan Heng is there.

Sometimes the two of them talk back and forth, but today it's mostly quiet...except for-

"I didn't know it was possible for you to get sick."

...Except for Boothill having to constantly clear his throat. That's the thing about your mark trying to flee into the desert. You either go after them and get sand everywhere (and even worse, sticky sand once it gets all bloody) or you wuss out and lose out on the bounty. Personally, Boothill likes being able to afford to eat.

"Grit's stuck in a vent somewhere, 'n' the usual maintenance ain't gettin' it. I'll prob'ly have ta manually dig it out." But later, when he's not laid out half asleep on Dan Heng's extra futon. Usually after a chase as long as this one took, he can shut down for almost a full day. He doesn't want to get up yet.

Something shadows over him, and reflex demands Boothill's eye open. Dan Heng steps around him on his way to some drawer built in the wall on the other side of the room or something. Boothill closes his eye again.

From under his hat he hears the sounds of rummaging, drawers sliding open and shut, the swish of a long coat. The shadow returns.

"Sit up, just momentarily. I have something to help." And Boothill groans a tired don't wanna, but he does it anyway, he hauls himself upright into a kneel. And then he sits up a little straighter because he realizes Dan Heng is standing right over him.

Dan Heng tells him "open your mouth," and Boothill's jaw pops open without his permission, without even a second thought, and hey, what protocol in there ok'd THAT?!?!

Before he can really unpack whatever the heck that just was, though, Dan Heng murmurs for him to say so if he needs them to stop, and then he's sliding a long, hard rod down Boothill's throat, tipped with some soft little brush he probably uses for all his fancy archival equipment.

Dan Heng tells him the handle of the brush is straight and can't be bent, he needs to move his head to be able to reach the vent in his throat. Boothill hums affirmatively; he can't do anything else with his mouth occupied.

Dan Heng's free hand holds him by his jaw, tilts it up slowly but firmly so he has to look straight up at him.

Boothill feels dizzy.

The cycle of blue blood through his artificial heart whirrs just a bit faster, his temperature sensor pings an internal alarm to warn for imminent overheating. Boothill curls his fingers into the guard over his knee as Dan Heng carefully brushes at the dust irritating him. All other sounds- the hum of running equipment, the occasional beep from the computers, the noise of the crew outside of this room- seem to pull away, until all Boothill can focus on is the steady and measured breathing from the man above him.

"Almost done."

Thank the aeons, maybe one of them likes him after all.

"Your tongue is in the way... I'm going to hold it down, ok?"

Nevermind.

The fingers holding his jaw curl around his chin, thumb slipping past open lips to dip into his mouth and pin down his tongue. One of his teeth catch on the digit, breaking skin just enough to bleed a drop where he can taste it. Dan Heng doesn't even flinch. Another temperature alarm pings off in his brain, then another, then another.

Boothill has never been shy about eye contact but oh, god, it nearly kills him when dull green irises flick away from their task and look down right at him as his mouth is held open. He quickly squeezes his own eye shut for some relief.

With his vision cut off, the rest of his senses automatically recalibrate to compensate. He can hear every breath even more distinctly now, every soft inhale and exhale, feel the strain in his neck, the softness of the brush, the hard floor beneath his knees, the hand holding his jaw and the fingerprints that feel like they should leave burns in his skin, the taste of Dan Heng heavy on his tongue-

Forget it, eye open, eye open!!

"Alright. There's one last pebble stuck."

Boothill had been trained to endure torture, back on his homeworld. It was part of being in a gang, part of being a bounty hunter.

Somehow, keeping himself quiet and still as Dan Heng inches the brush even further down the back of his throat is a profoundly similar experience.

The seconds tick by, Dan Heng's brow furrowing, face growing ever more concentrated and Boothill struggles not to watch him too closely, fights down the noise that suddenly tries to escape him as the brush withdraws-

"Swallow."

Stars and aeons, Dan Heng is going to be the death of him.

Boothill swallows. He feels it when the movement finally dislodges the loosened pebble from his vent.

His face feels shockingly cold now bereft of touch, even though Dan Heng's hands are always cool. He asks to see, and Boothill's mouth is already open again to show him, even as he belatedly realizes he could have just told him it had worked.

"Good." There's the slightest smile on Dan Heng's lips as he finally, mercifully, leans back out of his personal space, goes to put away the brush. "That should feel better now." Boothill spends a moment dizzy and dazed, feeling the need to blink spots out of his eye even though his vision is clear. He still hasn't moved off his knees.

What the fudge.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for watching Bluey behind my mums back?

TWs: emotional abuse, parent leaving, suicidal thoughts

Before you assume this is me just looking for validation or whatever, I'm feeling guilty about this for a few reasons.

Basically, I (15M) age regress. It's mostly involuntary, though I have done it voluntarily in the past. What it means is that because of some experiences I've had in the past (emotional abuse, my dad leaving, etc.) my mind sometimes reverts to the state of a child's when something happens to trigger it- most of the time it's triggered by me crying; if I'm not regressed I'll feel guilty and try to supress it because I was always told off for crying, but when I'm regressed I just want to get these nasty feelings out.

My mum (41F) isn't very supportive of this, and says it makes her uncomfortable. I get where she's coming from, but I can usually tell when I'm about to slip into regression (there are a few signs- big words and sentences are harder to process, I'm more sensitive, etc.) and try to find somewhere private if possible.

This is working for me at the moment. I do want to get a therapist to talk with about it and maybe find a way to mitigate the time I spend regressed so I can hopefully stop involuntarily regressing altogether, but right now it really helps. I actually get my emotions out, and I can distract myself easier from bad thoughts about myself- I've tried to distract myself when not regressed, but my mind will always just drown stuff out with thoughts about how everyone would be happier if i was dead and stuff like that; but when I'm regressed, my mind is simple. I just like bright colours and stuff, and simple messages.

This is where Bluey comes in. I've been watching Bluey in secret whenever I regress, because I love the characters, the messages are easy to understand on a basic level, the character designs are great, etc. Heck, today I started cleaning my room while regressed because of the Daddy Robot episode. The depression room hasn't been cleaned in months.

Why I might be NTA: It's just a kids' show, and this coping mechanism has really benefited me in the long run (I don't bottle up my emotions, which means I don't explode on anyone later on).

Why I might be TA: My mum has expressed discomfort with me regressing (she doesn't know I can't control it all the time), and I've already broken her trust before. I also could tell her about it and try to explain it more, I'm just a bit of a wuss and am scared to.

[throwmeabonepleaseandthankyou]

may i have some headcanons? S/O is a big big fan of "strange" animals, specifically bugs and fish, and enjoys going on hikes and swimming to find different species. how would the skeletons react? for ut papyrus, us bros, uf sans, sfp papyrus, fsr papyrus, and fsg papyrus, please! (can you tell i really like the papyri lmao)

if the above is too long of a prompt, how would the above skeletons react to an S/O who has bug terrariums?

I love bugs and have known to catch moths and spiders when my family is too scared of them(I've also caught and released mice but that's a story for another time). Also, the Papyri are the best, they're just so cute, no matter the AU 🤭.

Papyrus : Oh! So you want him to go bonkers! He can deal with fish(after all, he's best friend with one), he can deal with cats and dogs and everything else, but bugs? Why's it got to be bugs? You can gently push him into a weird-animal-loving perspective by showing him the pretty moths and playful lizards, but good luck getting him to hold a spider or a millipede.

Cobalt : Woah, those are so cool! Can he hold one? He seems interested at first... until he feels their little legs trailing up his bones. With all of those tiny feet speeding up his arm and latching onto him for balance, Blue is instantly disinterested. He'll love them from afar.

Honey : He likes taking you places to go find said animals, even if he naps in the car the whole time. Hey, Y/N, go place a bug on his chest. Cue the loud screeching followed by falling out of the car.

Red : Surprisingly, he's more into it than you, which is odd because usually he only acts like it even though he's scared of his shadow half of the time. He points out lizards that were too quick for your eye, camouflaged bugs hiding in trees, and the odd fish out in the water.

Rus : Lizards, insects, spiders?! You're almost perfect for him! Even though he's usually too lazy to pick his fatass up off his bed or the couch- if you tell him you're going hunting for little guys, he's on your heels. He wants to go, please? His hands grab your shirt everytime he notices you going near the door while holding a small container. Where are you going, s/o? He's wants to come too.

Pup + Coffee : Unless it has four legs and is fluffy, Pup wants nothing to do with it. I'm sorry, but he's not the best fit for this one, and neither is Coffee. Coffee is more willing to let your stickbug hang out on his finger, but Pup freaks out at the sight of a ladybug or a butterfly. For someone who's supposed to be your scary guard dog, Pup sure is a wuss.

As for the terrariums, almost all of them would be chill with them. Until you ask where Fluffy the tarantula went, the sound of a skeleton freaking out over your 8-legged friend being somewhere in the house. Whether the worry is for themselves or the spider, that's for you to figure out.

[chi-icha]

This is a very oddly specific request, but is it possible for you to have a comfort scenario with Wanderer/Scaramouche where an autistic reader has been feeling insecure and hurt regarding their flat affect because a manager at work essentially embarrassed them publicly by treating them like a child and accused them of "having attitude" when they were asking a simple question all because the manager decided a monotonous voice = attitude, and because of that they've started masking more obviously, have stopped speaking as often for the most part and only use very exaggerated and fake tones when they do speak.

I recently this happen to me and the whole argument with my manager has left me so embarrassed and ashamed of my autism, my meltdowns and my flat affect that I'm literally handing my resignation in the next shift I have and I'd love a comfort scenario for it, especially since I tend to see Wanderer as autistic, since his vocal tone in EN feels very similar to my own in some ways- I feel like he'd get it.

I apologise if the prompt is too overly specific or if it's unclear but I felt I'd ask anyway because I feel so hurt ashamed right now and don't even want to speak anymore and I hate feeling like that over something I have no control of.

oh dear, i’m really sorry that happened to u :( i understand how hard it is to communicate when you have difficulty doing it. even if i myself don’t have autism, i understand that people who do have difficulty in daily life. people all around should respect and try to help instead of making a whole deal out of it

and don’t apologise!! nothing is your fault to begin with, and you don’t have to apologise for something you can’t control or are not even conscious about it.

you feel your eyes prick with tears, even if you don’t want to cry. it makes you feel weak, and no one should be weak, or so you thought.

you feel like punching your manager, but that’s not allowed. what else are you supposed to do? just let them treat you like a child and deal with it. fuck, no.

you sit down on a bench in a particularly isolated area in Sumeru, hoping to god no one comes and bothers at this time of day. After fighting with your manager about something that could’ve just been resolved without a problem, you feel exhausted, lonely, even.

“crying alone? I thought I’d never see the day.” a slightly flat voice comes from in front of you, a few metres away. you know that voice, and it gives a slight smile to your face and a warm feeling in your chest.

there he stood, crossing his arms while having a small, amused smile on his face. but it’s not the kind of smile that’s meant to mock you, it’s more like a jab that close friends do; harmless and a little funny despite the situation.

“shut up..” you mumble while gently wiping your eyes, the smile rising on your face despite trying to hide it, not wanting to please that fucker. Wanderer huffs softly, then invites himself to sit beside you and crosses his legs while propping his chin on his palm, elbow neatly placed on his knee just so he could get a good look at you.

sure, seeing you cry was a little rare to see since you always seem so.. monotonous or flat, for lack of better word. he knew little bits of what your relationship with your manager was, and to say he was disgusted was an understatement at best.

“manager?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow and tilting his head slightly to the side.

he knew how to read you like an open book, which is both a blessing and a curse.

“yeah,” your voice was soft, and he immediately caught up on that. usually your voice would be at the same pitch he’s used to. “nothing much though, just..”

you trail off, not knowing how to finish your sentence without thinking of how much of wuss you sound like. you bite your lip, and his form a soft frown.

the silence draws for a little longer, and you feel like you should’ve shut up. your head hangs low, your thumbs fiddling together and mentally beating yourself up for creating such an awkward atmosphere from just trying to speak. fuck, why was speaking so hard—

he hums, just a flat one that seemed to silently say he understood whatever you were trying to silently say.

he inches closer, hand holding the back of your head before pulling your body close to his. he hopes his artificial skin would help you warm up, even if just a little could be nice.

with the help of his comforting touch despite the coldness of his artificial skin, you chuckle softly despite the tears gently streaming down your cheeks. just small ones, but wanderer finds himself wiping them away anyway.

“that’s enough crying,” he cringes at his own voice, failing miserably at trying to form a warm tone and he stays silent, hoping you just understand that he’s genuinely trying to comfort you.

you smile softly, burying your face a little on his neck to not let anyone else see you cry as your arms softly wrap around him, squeezing gently to relieve some of your own tension.

“thank you.”

your voice was but a whisper, but he finds his skin to redden slightly anyway.

please please pleasee correct me if anything is incorrect about autism or any other issues about my writing :(( i have no friends or relatives who have autism, so i really don’t know what it’s like. i made a little research about it but i really don’t know if it’s correct or not 😔

[agent-calivide]

I don't have anything more than scraps, but for the luvva god I'm gonna figure out something to analyze with Daniel Sans' 3 lines of dialogue and 2 bonus appearances for @lunacornfan2k24 because goddammit this man needs acknowledgement

Slight change up of formula, but because there's so little about him, I'm nitpicking the shit out of every single appearance like a vulture rather than doing broad strokes with occasional references to canon.

So, he appears first in the phone message on Friendly Skies, and honestly I think this one has a lot more to pick apart than you'd get at a first glance.

"Zor, there is an urgent matter that we must discuss. Contact me on a secure line immediately!"

The first thing I notice is how he addresses Zor. Not doctor, not a title of authority. He just calls them Zor. There's something so... innately trusting in that. He's not just another lackey, he's not just a high ranking official, even Solaris who technically outranks him calls them Doctor Zor. There is an innate trust there that is only rivaled by what we see between the Fabricator and Zor, and even then she usually calls them Doctor. Sure, we see other people just casually call Zor that when talking about them like "get Zor on the phone" or something similar, but to immediately jump into the message with "Zor" no title or greeting or anything similar, it shows that Sans has a certain mutual respect with Zor.

This is further confirmed by how he tells Zor to contact him. There's no "at your soonest convenience please get back to me." He demands Zor get back to him, once more showing a certain level of trust. Urgency or not, feeling confident that you can talk to your boss like that shows that there is some form of respect or even trust between you and them. Maybe I'm a wuss, but I could never talk to my managers like that, and they don't have a kill count.

Something else I also find interesting is that he's researching the development of a supervirus. Specifically a supervirus. The phrasing is interesting to me, because that implies that he's not just researching into chemistry, he's looking into biology. You can make a poison out of damn near anything, but to have it specifically be a virus implies infection, something organic. I think this is why they were fronting as a shampoo factory. It's a little thing, but by having their cover be chemistry to support biology, Sans was likely able to get more organic compounds for the supervirus without raising any red flags to support Zoraxis.

The next thing we hear, or rather see, from Daniel Sans is a note he left for Ashley Lincoln, the scientist who's looking into an antivirus.

"ATTN: Dr. Ashley Lincoln It has come to our attention that you are engaging in unauthorized anti-virus research after hours. Management advocates that there are better uses for personal time, such as spending it at home with your family. It would be a shame if something were to happen to theme while you were in the lab working on an unapproved project. Dr Daniel Sans"

This tells us a whole lot about Sans as a person. Firstly, he keeps a tight ship around there, there is a security system, cameras, automated messages, lasers, key card scanners, there's even a fucking sign that basically amounts to a more threatening "Smile, you're on camera" poster. He's shown to be very type A, organized and making safety nets for his safety net's safety nets. That is a ton of security in place, and all of that pays off for Sans in the end, really. He does catch Lincoln and makes it clear in no uncertain terms that what she is doing is unacceptable and if she doesn't stop there will be consequences.

And even if all, all of that fails, there's a plan Z in place: Just launch the virus early. He was able to weaponize Lincoln's own research against her, the virus chute identifies the antivirus as such. Regardless if he did the research on his own or if he found Lincoln's little clues or even found all of her research, he knew to look into the antivirus and have the lab try to identify it as such to prevent anything from being sabotaged. That shows not only intelligence, but amazing foresight frankly.

And once the antivirus is blocked, we learn even more about his character as the prerecorded message plays.

"Found a conscience, despite our threats! Well, I'm afraid you won't have a chance to use your antivirus. We're changing the time table and launching the supervirus... today!"

This goes to show that Sans isn't just working at Zoraxis for a benefit like Solaris or to pursue art like Fabricator and Juniper, he is just evil and revels in it. He calls out that Lincoln "found a conscience" implying that Sans not only does not have one, but unabashedly doesn't give a fuck that he doesn't. He excitedly exclaims "You're too late!" and has an evil laugh. Even more damning, when the automated voice plays a little yellow light flashes above the intercom, but when Sans' recording plays it turns red.

This man had his intercom system flash a red light whenever he made an announcement. Number one, iconic flare for the dramatics, but for two, it just goes to show that he is evil and he prides himself on it. Be it his own interests, his passions, or (what I think it really is) an unwavering loyalty to Zoraxis, he knows that his moral compass is pointing south and he doesn't give a damn either way.

The next reference we see to Sans (and the final one you get in-game) is his nameplate in the base in Madrid. The main thing I want to call attention to is the position Daniel Sans is seated in, directly to Zor's right. It makes this feeling of Sans being Zor's right-hand man, which is supported by all the previous depictions we get of him. Happily being evil, giving Zor a warning the second he found something to be wrong, having no issues with causing harm on a massive scale, blackmailing traitors directly to keep people in line and under Zor's thumb. He is functionally acting like a right-hand in this game, even if he's not the final boss. Save for the Handler, Sans is the one who appears in the most levels in the first IEYTD, even if he has the least lines. He never gets that evil one-to-one moment with the Agent, but he's also everywhere in passing.

The last thing I want to call out is Daniel Sans' interview.

Here, we see Sans really, truly vouching for not just Zoraxis, but Doctor Zor themselves, as well as the whole "People call it "evil", but I call it "misunderstood"" line.

I think this is the most telling piece of information we get on Sans, even if it's not directly in the games. Here, we see him willing to put his neck on the line after a massive scandal, using his full legal name even if he's not disclosing his job title. He's defending Zor and keeping as close to secrecy as he can while still trying to put out the wildfires. We don't hear directly from anyone other than Solaris, not so much as a mention of Hivemind or Caliente or even Ulanova despite the fact Professor X-Ray was mentioned. He is absolutely going up to bat to cover Zoraxis' ass to at least make the corporation not look totally lost, even if he's kind of doing a terrible job at keeping suspicions low. But this article also leads to the real kicker here...

Despite this respect he holds for Zor, this unwavering loyalty, he's... not really that important, and not even in just a lore sense. That sounds really mean- but in the hierarchy of military terms like lieutenant, commander, etc, lieutenant is a really low rank. It's the lowest in most countries, and when you've got commander Solaris right there in the same game it really almost emphasizes it. He's a mid-level employee. He's spearheaded dangerous, deadly projects. He's taken regulating his employees into his own hands. He sat at Zor's right hand side and took malicious joy in the pain that he caused for others, and yet he's just a lieutenant. High enough that he's attached to Zoraxis, but low enough that he doesn't actually have significant authority.

I may be tap-dancing my way into speculation station, but it almost feels insulting to Sans. Like Zor wants him to stay a low rank, only barely above a grunt. Sans has shown himself to think he's got an in with Zor, he's the first one to defend them when given the chance, he's the one who will burn to the ground alongside Zor when every other operative has betrayed them besides Fabricator...

and it doesn't matter.

Zor. Doesn't. Care.

And that's the tragedy of it all. Sans is laying down in mud puddles for someone who will just walk around them without so much as a sideways glance, much less appreciate it.

[kurtmustdie]

hate the ultimate guide. heres a few reasons why.

reused art: I understand how hard it is to make art, especially at that calliber of detail. I'm an artist, I get it. but the charm of the original ultimate guide was that we had these hand painted, unique pieces of art of these characters, it showed a little personality too.

How stale and lifeless the art is: This is a complaint that I've had with the current western artist for years, the art is just... boring. the colors are pretty, yeah, like wow hyperrealistic cats. cool. but what else? can we see their personalities? what's the book gonna be like? the old covers had that charm, but not these ones. at all. (also is that even... i could not tell that was runningnose and littlecloud. i mean. runningnose has water in his snout, thats not what cat snot looks like but go off. he just looks a little soggy ig, not in a perpetual state of sick.)

Lack of Personality: this is a different complaint I promise. I dont like how the art seems to take away the personality of every character so theyre staring stoicly at the camera. some of these characters arent all that stoic. I never liked the firestar art in the last hope because I deadass thought it was mapleshade until someone told me it was firestar. firestar isnt this scary, stalky cat in the shadows. not to normal people at least. if i can mistake your main character as one of the villains in your cover art that isnt fucking good. I don't want to see these cats staring bug eyed at the camera, I want to be able to tell what they're like JUST from a glance at the art. Who is that- harestar?? why doesnt he look nervous?? he looks almost noble here, which is the opposite of who he's supposed to be, he's a wuss and a loser and i love him for it. like girl that is NOT mudclaw thats some random cat i saw at the shelter once, WHERES HIS ANGER? WHERES HIS FUCKING RAGE??? RISE RISE RISE RISE RISE RI

the Characters are hard to recognize, even with the title cards: Who are these cats. who. who the fuck are they. I can recognize a few cats, sure, but thats if I can pick out a defining trait. Squirrelflights tail, Scourges Collar, Ravenpaw's white chest, those are things that are explicitly told to us that these characters have, but everyone else??? WHO??? Like that was supposed to be leafstar?? HUH?? Wait that's supposed to be Oakheart? I cant even tell if hes red, its so YELLOW OUT I CANT FUCKING TEL WHO HE IS. Sagewhisker is described with yellow eyes, yet she has blue ones in the ultimate guide (i dont usually get pissy about eye color but not only are these cats supposed to be distinct from each other but i really like sagewhisker and i would die for her, yes i will gatekeep her from the artist fucking fight me), Bluestar is barely recognizable, i didnt know who half of these cats were before i read their nameplate. thats not a good thing.

Red mapleshade. Why she red. WHY SHE RED.

Leafpool. I didn't even know that was you at first but man they did you dirty.

sol. dude that is not sol no matter how much you stretch it- why is he a tabby?? hes supposed to be a tortie, why does he look like lionblaze?? and even then he doesnt look that lionlike, even though hollyleaf literally thought he was when she first saw him like what?? HUH???

mothwing. why she anger. also why she not fluffy

squirrelflight. i always hated her SE art but seeing the whole thing makes me angrier. like she isnt not accurate to canon or anything i just... hate it. i hate it withe very fibre of my being. ALSO WHERE IS HER PERSONALITY I WANT TO SEE HER BEING ENERGETIC NOT STARING 😐 AT THE CAMERA FUCKING HELL-

yeah, so im not gonna buy this book. i dont even want to know how they wrorte any of the female characters to make them somehow evil or how they somehow make a completely irridemable male character a sweet uwu baby. and everyone has talked about the ableism to death so im not going to beat this clearly still living horse, im just gonna let you find it yourself.

[jadagul]

@discoursedrome This thread is already too long so I know from experience I'm going to wuss out of having a good discussion on it due to the sheer Bigness, but I can't resist hashing it out about this stuff! Okay, a little bit:

This is basically the rules-as-physics argument, right, where you can deduce the rules from observation? It's not really related to narrative mechanics, it's the same phenomenon as "can my character deduce the exact success probabilities from repeated trials" or "can my character develop a quantum theory of survivability by experimenting on his own hit points". There's going to be a huge gap between the rules and the game setting as soon as the rules involve numbers! The normal answer to this is that these mechanics are heuristics designed to manage play and are rarely consistent or visible enough that it would be plausible for a character to infer them from experience. And if it's implausible then it smells like metagaming and you'd be justified in just not having the rule work that way in that case -- it turns out this moment works like all those other moments in your life that weren't engaging directly with the game mechanics! But I would agree that there's a lot of pressure to metagame when the stakes are very high, and it's often wise for a designer to avoid conflicts of interest there.

To extend the analogy, would you argue that it's implausible for characters in a novel not to become genre-savvy simply because the world they're living in operates on those genre rules? Or going beyond that: if people wrote genre fiction so that they did, would that be better? I think generally you need to assume characters don't become genre savvy even if it "makes sense", but I'd go beyond that to argue that it usually doesn't make sense -- characters can't tell when something is part of the narrative and when it's just something that happens, so this doesn't happen to other people but it doesn't even consistently happen to them. Similarly, characters in a game can't tell when mechanics are involved or how.

But the general point here is that unless a game explicitly tells you that the rules are "laws of nature" in the setting then they aren't, and if you bring that tension into the spotlight by having your character act like they are, it really forces the issue. The classic example is the character who is mostly immune to gunfire mechanically, but not narratively, so they shoot themselves in the temple with a huge gun to show off. The standard advice here is "they die", which is obviously not exactly right: the correct response is actually to go over how this all works OOCly, emphasize that if they do this the character will die and everyone will assume they killed themselves on purpose and be very confused, and then if they really want to they still can. And this isn't really a narrative mechanic, again, you get there pretty rapidly once you add hit points!

But I do take your point, which is that the disconnect can be a bit jarring, reaching a peak in games where the player is actively antagonistic to their own character, and it bothers some people more than others. Game designers should decide what audience they're targeting and avoid alienating people carelessly to no particular benefit. That's all fine; but I still feel the need to emphasize that it's always a matter of degree, and that the minimum you can pare this problem down to (outside of freeform or the far reaches of FKR) is still pretty large.

Now with regard to the earlier question of "should everyone use the same rules"; this IMO is mostly a flavour thing, it's about selling the objectivity of the setting and the idea that everyone casts the same Fireball. This is good, but it trades off against fussy and intensive mechanics, which is bad, so you think about what you want and you pick your poison. That said, there's a limit: the idea of using the same ruleset to cover PC ad-hoc crafting projects and off-camera NPC candlemakers is laughable. There's no way to do that without it being a mess; it's one of many, many places where "rules as physics" and "rules as game or adjudication mechanism" are irreconcilable. With legendary or magical items you can make it work, but the issue there is less difficulty than rate: there are always loads of people as powerful as the PCs, so if it's feasible for someone at that skill level to make, say, two or three magic items in a year, those people could all just be churning them out for the heck of it. But if it's much harder than that, the prospect of PCs doing it and especially of them doing it as their "thing" rapidly slips away. It's the same basic issue as "what if I want to train up as a competent doctor from a baseline of zero" -- well, the game's answer is not that it takes ten years, but that's got to be roughly how it works for the average person, right? You can just say that the setting has wide variation in potential and the PCs are at the upper end of it, I guess, or that some mechanism like "experience points" is driving their growth, but on some level it's kind of fake, right? You live with it.

First off, yeah, that thread was already too long and also it was on someone's post that I'd originally misread to begin with, so let's put it here.

I really have one major response to your post, which is

The classic example is the character who is mostly immune to gunfire mechanically, but not narratively,

what the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you ever do that? What does it mean to be immune to something mechanically but not narratively? Where do I apply to get your game design license revoked?

Like the game rules should tell me what happens if I shoot myself in the head without dodging. And they should tell me what happens when someone else shoots me in the head when I can't dodge. And those should be the same thing because it's the same action.

The version of this I've heard comes from D&D 3e: fall damage tops out at 20d6, so the maximum possible damage is 120. A typical level 11 barbarian should have 121 hit points (if not more through Con bonuses; I think they're very likely to actually have 132.) So by the rules, a full-health barbarian can reliably jump off a cliff and survive the fall.

And some people are like "yes but obviously a real human won't consistently survive a thousand-foot fall" but of course what the rules are telling you is that a level 11 barbarian is not, in fact, a normal human; they can absorb a level of punishment that no real person possibly could.

People periodically try to reinterpret hit points as, like, luck, or dodging ability, but as you say that never holds up once you start asking questions about what's going on. (The classic question is poison-on-hit attacks, but honestly the shooting someone in the head bit is also good.) In order for hit points to make sense, you kind of have to say that some people can walk off being shot in the head at point-blank range, and there's nothing wrong with that. That's just the world you're building.

(Or you can keep max hp low enough and gun damage high enough that a max roll crit will kill anyone, but that generally undermines what people want the hit points to do in other contexts. If you want people to be superhuman just let them be superhuman!)

---

For the last bit: yeah obviously you're not going to, like, make crafting rolls for everyone in the city. But if your mechanics are wildly at odds with a functioning economy you really should expect your players to (1) ask questions and (2) exploit the hell out of them.

The world has to work the way the rules say it does because otherwise what's the point of the rules and how do you know how the world works?

[cuddles-with-dragons]

Fives: Who hurt you? Crosshair: *snorting* What, do you want a list? Fives: ...Yes, actually.

Store Worker: Would a “Crosshair” please come to the front desk? Crosshair, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker, pointing to Fives and Wrecker: I believe they belong to you? Fives and Wrecker, simultaneously: We got lost. Crosshair: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me—

Hunter: Now it's time for some witty back and forth banter. You go first. Crosshair: *sobbing* Hunter: Look, I'm not sure where to go with that.

Crosshair: *trying to get five seconds of sleep* Fives, poking Crosshair’s arm: Crosshair Crosshair. Crosshair. Crosshair. Crosshair: WHAT?! Fives: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Hunter: I am literally evil incarnate. Hunter: I’m not actually, I just enjoy being evil. Hunter: Which I think actually makes it even more evil because I’m making a conscious effort.

Hunter: Crosshair, how do you feel about lifting heavy things? Crosshair: My doctor just said I should avoid— Hunter: Being a wuss? I agree.

Tech: Let’s not Hunter this into a worse situation than it already is. Hunter: Did you just use my name as a verb?!

Fives: I've met a lot of pricks in my time, but you, Hunter, are a fucking cactus. One even bigger than General Krell.

Hunter: Punch me in the face. Alpha: ...Punch you? Hunter: Yes, punch me, didn’t you hear me? Alpha: I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ while you’re speaking but it’s usually just subtext.

Hunter, dramatically: They called me a sadistic asshole! Fives, sick of Hunter's shit: I wasn't wrong.

Fives: The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was changing their name to Hunter.

Crosshair: Did you wash the dishes? Hunter: I thought you wanted to do that... Crosshair: *chuckles* You were WRONG.

Tech: I haven't slept in seventy-three hours. Hunter: Eighty. Democratically elected leader of insomnia. Crosshair: Bitch, it's been ninety for me. I'm going for an even one hundred. Fives: You guys are fucking terrifying.

Hunter: Don’t go picking a fight with me. I could make your life difficult. Fives, sarcastically: Wow. I wonder what it’d be like to have a difficult life.

[mocha-n-roses]

✨Hi Husker!! :D♥️🎲

I like hanging out at the bar, it's a cozy nook and the cat-dad lives here!! Though pictures are usually a no-go and now is no exception, with their handsome grimace

I ordered a pink starburst cocktail because I'm a wuss and alcohol tastes awful :P

[animatorweirdo]

When the Dragons Fly (Book 2)

You leave the village to fetch something, and Aelon has fun with his friends until it is ruined by none other than Ennard. Ennard says a few nasty things about him and you, igniting a spark of rage.

Chapter 5

Warnings: mentions of the kidnapping, tripping over, Ennard being hateful and a creep, name-calling, slight violence, anger, a dummy losing its head, and a sweet moment with Maedhros.

--------------------------------------

The day has started as usual. The villagers worked in the field, some handling errands outside the village and some doing chores in their homes. Aelon was practicing in front of the house, hitting a makeshift dummy he had created from sticks, rags, and hay. He was hitting the dummy with his training sword. 

You walked out of the house carrying a large basket. 

"You've been practicing hard for a week now," you said as you watched him hit the dummy. 

"Well, you said I have to practice hard,” Aelon hit the dummy in the head. “And next time when I end up in trouble. I’m ready,” he said with a determined look. 

Pride bloomed within your chest, slightly overshadowed by pity since the real reason for his sudden motivation to train hard was because of the kidnapping. 

"Are you going somewhere again?" Aelon asked, noticing the basket beneath your arm. 

"Uhm... yeah. I need to fetch something, and it might take some time. Will you be okay on your own for a while?” you asked. 

"Yeah, sure... I think I'm just going to practice. I wanna be ready enough to hold onto an actual sword!" Aelon declared, making you smile. "That's the spirit. Your offensive is good, but you're still leaving yourself open," you looked over to his feet. 

"How?" Aelon asked, looking at you, and then you softly pushed your foot against the back of his knee, making him yelp and trip. 

You looked down on him as he lay on the ground. "Remember, Ae. Once you're down– you're done for. How about you practice looking and not leaving yourself open for attacks like that?" you advised before helping him up.

"Stay out of trouble, and look for Helena if you need anything," you said sternly. 

Aelon only rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah—” he said playfully, making you smile softly. 

“Take care now. I try not to be gone for too long,” you said as you disappeared into the village, most likely heading toward the stablemaster’s home. Aelon stared at his dummy and prepared to practice again. 

A group of footsteps reached him, and he saw his friends approaching him. A grin plastered on his face when Eweniel ran up to him.

“Hey, Ae! Did your sister go on some trip again?” she questioned. 

“Yeah. (Name) said there was something she needed to get and might be gone for a while,” Aelon answered. “I said I was going to practice my sword skills,” he added while holding his training sword with both hands. 

“Hey! How about you teach us some wooden sword skills?” Eweniel suggested. 

“Sure, do you all want to practice?” Aelon looked at his friends. 

“Yeah!” Samuel said excitedly, with Ramuel nodding in agreement. Rodrick seemed a bit hesitant. “I don’t know— but I am curious to try it,” he said. 

“Then grab a training sword, and let’s get started,” Aelon smiled as his friends cheered. 

His friends eagerly picked up extra training swords you had just in case, and the impromptu play-fighting session began. Laughter echoed as Aelon, with a mix of instruction and playful banter, guided them through the mock battle, creating a lively scene of camaraderie in the village.

They did not pay any attention to the passing time as Aelon guided them on hitting and defending. Eweniel eagerly dueled with Rodrick, who struggled to defend himself against her wild attacks. The twins had fun facing Aelon, who skillfully defended himself against both of them, and laughter filled the air.

Helena had arrived at the scene, watching and enjoying the children having fun. 

“Come on, Rodie! Don’t be a wuss and attack me!” Eweniel said with her training sword raised above her head. “No! You just attack me back!” Rodrick whined while trying to avoid getting hit by her. Aelon laughed at the sight while blocking the twins from hitting him. 

"You children shouldn't be learning something violent," Ennard’s voice was suddenly heard, interrupting the playful fight session. Aelon and his friends stared at the man as he stood beside Helena, who looked annoyed by his presence. 

"It's not bad if you learn to defend yourself," Aelon stated. 

"And from what? The village has been safe for many years," Ennard asked rudely. 

“Like from the dangers outside the village? You do remember me and Samuel got kidnapped by the vampire creature months ago?” Aelon questioned while Samuel nodded. 

“And that was months ago. Things are better now. If there is danger outside the village, we, the Watchmen, will handle it,” Ennard replied. 

“But what if we end up in danger and you aren’t there to protect us?” Aelon asked. 

“That is a good question,” Helena stated while glaring at Ennard. 

"Then—you just have to make sure you don't end up alone in a dangerous situation. Simple as that," Ennard said, then scoffed at them. "But knowing you, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you or any of your friends get kidnapped by a troll or a werewolf next time."

Aelon felt anger rising within his chest. “And what is that supposed to mean?!” he nearly yelled at the man. 

Ennard leaned down on him. “It means— if you weren’t such a useless brat. You wouldn’t end up in dangerous situations,” he spat. 

"Okay! That is enough! Leave the children alone!" Helena stepped between them, glaring furiously at the grown man. 

"And you, Helena! Should stop being around someone like these people," Ennard started. "A woman who lies and teaches children violent things like this and a little freak with purple eyes," he pointed at Aelon. 

"(Name) is not a liar!" Aelon yelled defensively. 

"She is a liar!" Ennard snarled at him. "She carries a sword yet never uses it. Tell me, boy, have you ever seen her use it to kill a man, let alone an orc?" he questioned. 

Aelon remained quiet, unable to answer.

"Tell me. Why would a woman need to carry a sword when they can be perfectly safe in their own house?" Ennard asked. "Because people like you,” Aelon uttered. “What did you say, freak?!” Ennard glared at him. “Nothing!” Aelon stood back, frightened yet still feeling angry. 

"The only danger around here seems to be you and that freak of a woman. Who knows, maybe she stole the sword and kept it in the house for shows," he said. 

"She didn't steal it! It belonged to our father!" Aelon snapped at him, "Oh, then why does she never use it?" Ennard asked. 

"Because you would die if she did," Aelon angrily spoke through his teeth. 

Ennard looked stunned for a moment before a furious glare replaced his face. 'You dare to threaten me, boy!' he shouted, shoving Aelon to the ground. Aelon yelped and groaned in pain as he landed on his back.

"Look at you! One push and you're down," Ennard gloated. 

"Leave him alone!" Eweniel stood defensively. 

"That's enough. What kind of man attacks a child?" Helena stepped in again, pushing Ennard back. Ennard backed away. 

"What's going on over here?" Helena's father called out after noticing something happening between them. 

"Nothing... I was just leaving," Ennard said and then walked away. 

Helena helped Aelon to stand up. "Are you okay, Ae? You didn't get hurt now, did you?" she asked as she brushed off the dirt from his clothes. 

"No..." Aelon mumbled silently. 

"Try to ignore what Ennard said. He is a bitter man. Honestly, I'm sure he only has raccoons in his pants, which would explain why he is so moody all the time," Helena explained. 

"More like a badger..." Eweniel stated. 

Helena and his friends continued talking and insulting Ennard for his behavior, but Aelon remained quiet, thinking about Ennard's words. He felt something hot within him. The longer he thought about the man and the things he said, the more he became angry. It made him want to blow off like a volcano.

The forever-running water flowed soundlessly through the rocks as Aelon smacked the dummy in rage with his training sword. He did not even care to practice his defense. He struck the dummy hard in the head, emitting sounds that could only be interpreted as angry grunts and yells. Beads of sweat formed on his skin as he didn't even stop for a minute.

Deep in releasing his anger on the dummy, Aelon was ignorant of the sounds of hooves and steps behind him. 

Maedhros halted, observing Aelon relentlessly pummel the dummy as if it had committed the most unforgivable crime against him.

Aelon continued battering the dummy, aiming at the head, thinking of Ennard and the foul words he said. He struck harder, which made the hay burst out of the dummy’s head and fall off from its place. Aelon lost his grip on his training sword due to his sweaty hands, and it flew into the river. 

"Damn..." Aelon held himself back from cursing before walking into the water to collect the wooden stick. 

Maedhros thought to himself quietly as Aelon walked out of the river. The boy dropped his training sword and flopped down on the rock, trying to remove his wet shoes. Seeing something was obviously troubling the boy. Maedhros finally decided to approach. 

Aelon set his wet socks on the rocks to dry till he heard someone walking toward him. 

"Even in a fit of rage, you must maintain a strong grip on your weapon. Otherwise, you might find yourself forced to fight with your hands," Maedhros said, making Aelon jump in surprise.

"Oh! Nelyo! Hi!" Aelon relaxed after seeing the elf. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked as Maedhros allowed his horse to stand on the side. 

"You both said I could come for a visit, so I decided to check how you two were doing," Maedhros explained. "But it seems I might have arrived at a bad time," he added.

"Oh no! You're welcome to stay," Aelon quickly said. "(Name) is not here at the moment. She left the village to fetch something, but you are welcome to stay," Aelon smiled as Maedhros sat beside him.

"I saw how you beat that dummy to a bulb," Maedhros said, making Aelon look away in embarrassment as the dummy’s head lay on the ground. 

"Did something or someone make you feel such anger?" Maedhros questioned. 

"How can you tell?" Aelon asked. 

"My brothers and I sometimes do the same when we feel angry or frustrated," Maedhros answered. 

Aelon contemplated before looking up to the red-haired elf. 

"There's this man. His name is Ennard. He's one of the Watchmen of the village, but he has some kind of problem with me and my sister," Aelon explained. "He thinks (Name) is a liar because she is a woman and doesn't carry her sword every day, but I've seen her fight before. Last month, my friends and I got into trouble with a warg," he said, recalling the incident. "I nearly got myself eaten by the beast, but then (Name) came and saved me. She wrestled with the warg and then wrapped her hands around its neck, twisting it hard to the side," Aelon spun his hands around for a show. “I heard its neck let out a loud snap, and it then fell to the ground, dead,” he added. 

"Oh.." Maedhros said with surprise. 

"It's true. That's how her arm got hurt.  The warg bit her pretty badly. You saw her arm," Aelon said nearly desperately. 

"Yes. I remember (Name)  calling it a little incident," Maedhros replied. 

"I'm not lying. It did happen. You can ask the whole village if you don’t believe me. They all saw it happen that day," Aelon hugged his knees. 

"I'm not calling you a liar, nor I'm saying I don't believe you," Maedhros looked at him. 

"Well, Ennard seems to think otherwise. He said something really nasty today about me and (Name)," Aelon uttered quietly. "He even constantly keeps creeping our friend, who is not interested in him romantically," he added. 

"It just made me so angry. That's why I ran off here and tried to let it out by training, but even alone, I only seem to screw up. I can't even hold a stick in anger," Aelon vented as angry tears swelled his eyes. 

He sniffed and quickly dried his eyes, staring into the flowing river. 

Maedhros stared at him sympathetically before laying his hand on the boy’s shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb. "Aelon, you're justified in your anger. Feeling angry toward someone who insulted you and your family is normal," he said softly. 

"But I've never felt this angry before. It's kinda scary," Aelon looked up to him. 

"I know, but don't take it as a bad thing," Maedhros said. "It just means you're someone who's slow to anger. And those who are angry yet patients are sometimes considered much more dangerous than those who act immediately to their violent impulses," Maedhros explained. 

"And don't take it hard on yourself. Learning to wield a weapon can be challenging, especially for someone as young as you," Maedhros said, then leaned closer. 

"But I do say... you have a better stance and focus than any of my brothers did when they started learning how to wield swords," Maedhros said quietly with a teasing tone. Aelon lets out a giggle. "Really? I thought you elves were masters at anything?"

"We are good at many things, but even we had to learn at some point, and sometimes it could even take thousands of years," Maedhros replied. 

"One time... one of my brothers decided to throw away the wooden sword and beat our cousin with bare hands. Now imagine how that would look for us..." Maedhros grinned, and Aelon laughed at the thought. 

"But still... I can't seem to figure out this problem I keep having," Aelon stated, using his sleeve to dry his eyes.

"If you want. I could help you," Maedhros offered while standing up. "Really?" Aelon picked himself up excitedly as Maedhros picked up the training swords. "Of course..." Maedhros stopped and turned toward the boy. "But will your sister be alright with it?" he quickly asked. 

"I think she would be more than happy. She's the one teaching me, actually," Aelon smiled. 

"In that case, show me what you can do," Maedhros held on to the stick with one hand. Aelon picked up his training sword and prepared himself. 

The two stood in front of each other until Aelon made the first move, striking Maedhros's stick. Maedhros maintained a defensive stance as Aelon continued to charge but then gently pressed the top of the stick onto Aelon's shoulder.

"You have a good balance, but you're leaving yourself too open," Maedhros said, pulling back. "If you leave yourself too open. The enemy doesn't have to worry about your weapon," he lectured as Aelon tried again. 

Aelon continued hitting Maedhros’s stick before Maedhros knocked the training sword from Aelon's hands. Aelon stood back as Maedhros pointed at him with the stick. "... And you're dead," he stated, pulling his training sword away from the boy. 

"(Name) says the same thing, but no matter what I do. I'm always too open," Aelon picked up his training sword. 

"It looks like you're focusing too much on me and my face," Maedhros stated. “If you only focus on one thing. It will be more difficult to defend yourself,” he added. 

“You should focus more on the opponent’s weapon and how they move. It will be easier for you to block an incoming attack and predict their next move,” Maedhros said as he then swung at Aelon. Aelon blocked the attack and moved away. 

“Like that. Now come again,” Maedhros prepared with a soft grin. Aelon smiled, feeling more confident and eager to duel with the elf. 

The two dueled. Aelon finds himself much more successful in defending and attacking. Maedhros encouraged after a successful strike even if Aelon couldn’t graze a hair on the elf. Aelon had fun, and when twilight began to show, the two bid a moment farewell, and Aelon returned to the village, feeling better than before and happy that Maedhros promised to visit again. 

Taglist: @natchayaphorn​ @kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain

[annacaffeina]

I know I live in New Hampshire and that makes me a wuss about heat, but it is not normal to have this many days over 90. We've had heat warnings for like 3 solid weeks straight. I'm tired.

I did jump off a bridge into the ocean though, which I usually wouldn't do because the ocean in Maine is STILL SUPPOSED TO BE COLD. Usually it isn't this warm until at least mid august. So on the up side I, personally, had one (1) good day.