#he's a little ooc but it's ok

[artekai]

Rebooting systems…

All systems online. Thank you for your patience.

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

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

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

I nod. “Affirmative.”

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

“Three.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s... relaxing.

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

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

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

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

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

[graceful-not]

I'm g.gonna throw up why are they like this..

[project-sekai-news]

The Pegasus - An Interview

Welcome back to PJSK News! I'm your host, Tenma Saki, and because Hoshino couldn't be here today, I have brought a special guest! Special guest, how about you introduce yourself?

Good evening, everyone! I am Tenma Tsukasa, a world star! Many of you know me by my stage name, the Pegasus!!! Saki here is actually my little sister!

Hehe, Onii-chan, no headpats on camera! Anyway.. I have all the interview questions right here! Are you ready?

More than ready! Shoot!

Okay! First question: Tumblr user @sillystringstar asked: "Dear, Pegasus, why the horse name?"

That's an easy one! My surname, Tenma, means 'pegasus!' Therefore, I thought it only fitting to use that as my stage name!

I knew that one! Hehe, then I could use that as my pen name whenever I write articles! ..On second thought, that might be a little confusing.

Let's see, the next question is.. by @ithappenedonroute66 !! "If you are a star, then are you the sun and going to explode in the far future?"

E-er, you see, I'm not that kind of star! I'm a great and talented performer kind of star! BUT! I will explode in a blaze of glory in the future! You'll see, Saki, and uh.. it-happens-route-6!

I'll be waiting! ... user @agoist asked, "Why did you make that young girl cry by yelling “Dance and Sing” at her?"

Wh-where'd you here that from?! Ahem, I mean, the problem is solved! The girl was looking for her mom, is all! With Rui's help, the girl found her mom safe and sound, so you needn't worry about anything!

We're just going to ignore the fact that I blabbed.. next question, by @crime-soncloud! "Pegasus, what are your thoughts on the work of this news network, and what do you feel should be reported on more?"

This is a brilliant news network, run by my dear sister Saki and her friends! I try my best to listen to every single one of their reports! ..Though I haven't listened to the one about Akito yet! I've been a bit busy lately...

As for what should be reported on! I believe everything Saki and her friends report on needs their full attention! That being said, I recommend other Sekai's! So far, PJSK News has only reported on evnets happening around Shibuya Sekai, so if they could branch off to other Sekai's, I think that would be very cool!

Ooh, good idea! I'll talk to Ichi about that! Uh - also, the Akito going to jail one isn't that big of an event, haha..! There's no need for you to watch it!

Oh, really? Well, whatever you say, Saki!

Hehe, great! This next one is by.. @ova-kakyoin !! "what is your favorite part of performing? other than people smiling and having fun watching of course."

Hmm.. I'd say getting to know my fellow actors better! You mustn't only care for your audience! The wellbeing of the people you're performing with is also very important!

Well said! Okay.. user @sanri0add1ct asked, "dear Pegasus, why do you call your lunch a luncheon?"

Ah! 'Tis a name only fit for the glorious lunch eaten by the Pegasus!

You always put so much care into the lunches you make for yourself and me! Thank you, Onii-chan!

Anything for you, Saki! What's the next question?

Mm.. @25jpeg is wondering, "dear Pegasus what's your deal with Kamishiro?"

Ah, Rui! Hmm.. I'm not too sure what you mean by that!

Of course you know what they mean! Hm, like.. how he's always teasing you! Or.. oh! I heard from Toya that he sometimes sees the teachers chasing you two around the school~! Ooh, or maybe when you were rehearsing Ro -

Wait a minute! Where did you hear this?!

Well, I picked up the teasing one by myself, and like I said, Toya told me about how the teachers chase you two...

Ugh.. to think my wonderful fans would take our relationship like this..

Time for me to clear things up! ..Everyone, Rui is not bullying me!

...Huh..?

There! Now people won't think Rui is being mean! Rui is my great friend!

Onii-chan... hm. Don't worry everyone, he'll realize his feelings soon enough!

..My feelings..?

Anyway, next question~! @calleigator asked, "Mr. Pegasus Tenma, what are your thoughts on the ongoing apple pie thefts and what are you going to do about it?"

The apple pie thefts? Ah, I remember you and Hoshino reporting on this! I hope the thief will stop stealing apple pies and instead be a good citizen and pay for everything that they stole!

That's a lot of money to pay considering how many pies they stole...

But stealing is no good! As the Pegasus and a world star, I should be setting a good example for all the young children out there! Everyone, if you're listening, don't steal!

Aw, you're such a good influence! That's my brother for you!

Haha! You're a great sister too, Saki!

Ahem.. "Dearest Pegasus, your light shines brighter than any other. What do you plan to do about those who melt in your presence?" - asked by @monkie-see-monkie-do!

Melt in my presence..? Ah, I see, they melt because of my greatness! Well, my marvelous fan, if you melt in my presence, no need to panic! My light revives as well as melts!

Ooh, great answer! This next question is the last one, by @closegamecamo !! "Pegasus, what are your thoughts on those fake insects at stores?"

Fake insects..? Ugh, why would you ask me that.. er, I don't even remember what they look like!

That's fine! I brought one here with me just in case!

You wha - aaAAAAAAGGH!!

Haha, Onii-chan! It's just a caterpi - ahh, he fell down!

Eek! T-Tenma-senpai..? Is he okay?

Don't worry about it, Kohane! He'll be fine.. probably..

ONII-CHAN! The interview's still going!

..urk...

Ah, maybe it's a good time to stop..

Bye everyone! I hope your questions were answered by the great and glorious star, Tenma Tsukasa, the Pegasus! Let's keep this little incident between us, 'kay? Bye bye~!

..ugh.. aah, wait! Farewell, my wonderful fa - !

[xxlady-lunaxx]

“Do you like the snow?” Kokushibo asked, his three pairs of eyes gazing momentarily at Muzan before flicking back down to the floor. He sunk deeper into his bow, waiting silently. It was an odd question to follow up an order for a mission, yet it had slipped out nonetheless. Perhaps because he’d just been brought into the Infinity Castle after being out in the snow all evening, but it’d been the first thing on his mind.

“The snow?” Muzan repeated. His tone was surprisingly full of inquiry—and maybe he was holding back from reading Kokushibo’s mind, or was asking purely through courtesy (unlikely, but possible), but he sounded genuinely curious.

“Yes,” Kokushibo agreed.

“If I like it…” he mused, shaking his head. “No, I never cared for it. Is there a point to this question?”

“No. Apologies, Kibutsuji-sama.”

“Ah. Well, then—“ He signaled vaguely with a hand and, with the strum of a biwa, Kokushibo was teleported back outside. His steps sunk into the thick layers of snow as he began to walk towards the nearest village.

Meanwhile, Muzan had himself transported to a town where one of his crafted families were. As he walked idly down the streets, the snow crunched under his feet and seeped into the cuffs of his pants. He frowned down at the footsteps that walked in all directions. When he glanced up, he was met with a row of small snowmen, twigs sticking out as arms for the army of snowballs.

“Do I like snow?” he asked himself, gazing, confused, at the snowmen. “No, no I don’t.”

The sound of chattering brought his attention back up, drawn to the laughter. A little girl, whom he recognized as the one he was meant to be the father of, ran towards him, mindless of how the snow and mud splattered against the hem of her dress.

He crouched slightly, picking her up when she jumped onto him.

“It snowed!” she informed him, unnecessarily, a wide smile splitting her face. “Can we play outside before dinner? Can we? Please, Chichiue!”

“Mm? Did Kaa-chan say that was alright?” he asked, feigning excitement and patting her head.

“Yeah! She said ten minutes!”

“Ten minutes, it is,” he assured her, and placed her back down. She giggled, picking up a clump of snow and tossed it at him. Instinctively, he dodged it, and she pouted.

“You’re no fun!” she told him, then went off to play on her own, shouting something about making a forest for the snow people.

Muzan watched, conflicted. A memory, somewhere in the back of his mind, nudged him. Quietly bothering him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. As he watched the daughter that wasn’t quite his begin to roll in the snow, he gave in, closing his eyes with a soft exhale. His breath was visible before him, but he didn’t see it, instead transported centuries into the past. Back when he had been his daughter’s age, equally elated over the concept of snow.

—x—x—

“But I want to see it—!” Muzan protested, his whining loud despite the frailness of his body. His nurse fretted over him, shaking her head.

“No, no, you’re not fit for it! You’ll catch a fever if you step out,” she told him, pushing him gently back into his bed. He was small, not just because he was a child, but even more than the average for his age. Recently, his appetite had been low, and with winter at its peak, his condition had worsened. Yet he was immediately awake at the mention of the snowy wonder he’d yet see for himself.

Grumbling, Muzan wiggled out of the covers, pushing the weight of them all off. The air outside the blankets was chilly, and he shivered, but persisted. “So? I’m always sick!” he all but yelled. “I’ll get sick either way! I wanna go!”

“Muzan-chan,” the nurse tried. She retrieved one of the blankets and draped it over his shoulders. “Your mother won’t be happy.”

“I don’t care!” he decided. “Okaa-san would understand!”

“But…”

Muzan turned to her with wide eyes that were full of longing, a pout forming. “Just a couple minutes? I never get to do things.”

The nurse struggled with herself for a moment, then sighed, sagging. “Alright. Five minutes. I’ll find you some clothes, you can’t go out in that.”

A few moments later, Muzan stumbled outside, bundled up in scarves and several layers of haori. The nurse held his hand tightly, gently helping him step into his shoes and then onto the snow. Red eyes alight with wonder, Muzan gasped and prodded tentatively at the snow with his foot. When it formed a cavity in the bright white mound, he laughed and stomped down, the widest of smiles splitting his face when the snow went flying.

“Careful, Muzan-chan!” the nurse warned, not quite letting him go even when he began to waddle through the snow. His excitement was palpable, his breath visible in the air where he spoke.

“It’s so cold,” he remarked, his cheeks and nose bright red—a contrast to his pale skin. However he seemed unbothered by the temperature, even elated by it, uncaring for the sacrifice if it meant being outside. “Ne, can I play?”

“Ah… You’re not well, yet, so be cautious,” was his answer. But the nurse reluctantly let him go, keeping close as he giggled and spun in a slow circle.

Abruptly, he sank down, poking the snow with a finger. He sucked in a breath and pulled his hand back. “It’s so—“ he started, then plunged his hand in, laughing breathlessly at the iciness.

“Don’t do that!” the nurse chided, crouching and pulling his hand out, wrapping it in one of the scarves. “You’ll give yourself a frostbite.”

“But it feels funny!” he said, only to be distracted by something else. He stood, slowly, then hurried off to soothe his curiosity. His enthusiasm was ceaseless, smiles bright and full of life. They ended up staying out for ten minutes, until Muzan began getting dizzy from all the movement.

As he was ushered inside, shoes pulled off and tucked back onto bed, he began recounting his adventure. His mother listened patiently while the nurse made some tea, readjusting the blankets so they were up to his chin.

“It was so cold, and really mushy, and kept getting on my clothes, and then it melted and—and then I made people! Out of snow! And we got sticks and put them in the snow for arms, but then the people fell apart—but, but then we made even more, and then there was a bunch of footprints in the snow—“ he said, without even stopping for breath. His face was still tinged red where the air had bit his skin, and he seemed as if he’d run miles for hours. But his happiness was infectious, and his mother couldn’t resist the smile that followed her understanding hums.

“Is that so?” she asked, when he finally paused to catch up with himself.

The nurse returned with tea for all three of them, and they helped Muzan drink his first. When he finished a few sips, he nodded.

“It was super fun, I wanna go outside again tomorrow!”

“Maybe another day,” his mother suggested. “You rest well today and tomorrow, and we’ll consider. How about that?”

“…okay,” Muzan pouted, but agreed, burrowing into his blankets. “I’ll sleep now!”

“All right, then,” his mother said, amused, and patted him gently. “Sleep well, and you’ll see the snow in a bit.”

She and the nurse left the room once they were sure he’d sleep, taking the tea with them. Muzan tucked his face under the blankets, bringing his hands up to his cheeks and feeling how much colder they were.

“Like the snow,” he said to himself. “I love the snow!”

That night, his dreams consisted of snow in the summers when he was allowed out for small bits of time—the snowmen he’d made now with arms that stayed, relaxing in the shade beside him. Every year, he must go out when it snowed. He’d make sure that it happened. One way or another!

—x—x—

“Chichiueeee!”

The whiny voice brought Muzan back to the present and he hummed, glancing down at the little girl that tugged on his pant leg.

“Yes, Teruko-chan?” he asked, pushing away his impatience to bend down.

“I’m cold!” she said with a huff. “I wanna go inside!”

“All right.” Muzan scooped her up into his arms, wandering towards their house. “Where’s your mother?”

“Kaa-chan’s making dinner, and she saw you outside so she said I could play with you,” his daughter informed him, wiggling in his grasp. She pressed her cheek to his, and he felt the coolness in her skin, reminding him of when he’d pressed his hands to his own face.

“Is that so? Then why don’t we go inside to eat?” he suggested, and pushed the door open. The little girl immediately squirmed from his arms and dashed off to the kitchen where, presumably, the food was being made. He tapped the snow from his shoes, then took them off as he entered. The door closed behind him, and he remained at the doorway for a moment, gazing aimlessly at the hall.

At dinner, he assured his wife that he’d eaten lunch late so he’d eat dinner later. He sat patiently at the table, glad for the clouded-over sky because it allowed him to walk freely in the snow today. As he waited, he gazed curiously at his daughter.

“Did you like playing in the snow?” he asked, stopping her from shoving too much food into her mouth.

“Yeah!” she said happily, batting his hand away. “But the snow was super cold, so I don’t wanna go tomorrow. One day is fine! Tomorrow, I can sit by the fire and have milk.”

Her mother laughed softly. “I thought you liked the snow?”

“Not for long times,” the girl said matter-of-factly, shaking her head. “I like making the snowmen and stuff, but then it’s too cold so I wanna go back in.”

“Ah, well, I like the snow,” Muzan piped up, as the dishes were collected to wash.

“Why?” his daughter asked almost judgmentally, a perplexed frown plastered on her face.

Why? Muzan paused. “It’s nice?”

“Boring!” The little girl ran off to her mother, shouting, “Kaa-chan! Chichiue’s boring!”

“Don’t say that about your father!” was the distant response from the kitchen, the clattering of dishes and the sound of water following.

Muzan’s previously pleasant expression dropped with the absence of company, and he murmured something about going to sleep early, trudging to the bedroom. He wasn’t sure if it had been the snow, exactly, that he’d loved as a child. Or maybe it had. It was hard to say. Such small things hardly mattered to him, now. Now, he could go out whenever he wanted. So maybe he didn’t care for snow. Such trivial things were unimportant—and liking it or not, it came only briefly each year. Ah, well, he’d avoid the snow tomorrow and have Nakime bring him where he needed to go, instead of going on foot. Perhaps the girl had a point—he should just stay inside; the snow was too cold to actually enjoy.

Goodness, such a bother for something like snow. What was he thinking? He had other things to worry about.

The thoughts were shoved aside as he entered his study room and picked a book from the shelf. He’d go to the library tomorrow and continue browsing through the books. The blue spider lily was at utmost importance now. Unless it thrived in the snow, he shouldn’t let himself get distracted again. He’d better tell Kokushibo to not ask such things anymore.

[orangesleepy]

YOU ESCAPED? THEY CAPTURED YOU TOO? WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU AND WHERE’S YELLOW?

I’ve been slowly deteriorating for days in this box ;-; do you know how to get out

-@forbidden-main-character

umm .. i didn’t escape tje most efficient way. i don’t think i’d do what i did. i’ve been living in the forest for a few days now and it gets very cold at night .. ahh :(

yellow? i don’t know. ah .. i haven’t heard from them. i’d hope — assume that they’re with RGB but .. mmm .. knowing how impulsive they are .. i think i’ve heard that they’re in rocketcorp? but i haven’t actually seen anything concrete. maybe they are .. aha.

i don’t know how to help you escape in a way that hurts .. less .. sorry.

[arrakisser]

PAUL ATREIDES (HIGH FASHION EDITION)

Elie Saab Fall 2022 Haute Couture Balmain Fall/Winter 2016 Paris Ann Demeulemeester Spring 2019 DUNE: PART ONE, TWO (2021, 2024) dir. Denis Villeneuve

[cervinae-canine]

i mean when engineer cuts his hand off for the gunslinger, it could be a tragic representation of his god complex taken to its absolute extreme alongside his debilitating self-loathing that forces himself to be of a higher standard in comparison to everyone else.

but it could also be because he thinks machines are hot-

[deadn30n]

sorry i disappeared, i had to be rushed to the hospital via ambulance during work yesterday because my legs unexpectedly gave out. turns out i have a hiatal hernia which is why i've struggled to eat, and because of that, i grew weak from not getting enough nutrients, hence my legs giving out. i'm ok now, i bought a bunch of healthy stuff to eat and changed my diet, i'm on bedrest for the next few days too, but ya boy is really going thru it right now asdlkjghd. i'm going to spend the remainder of today resting, but i should be ok enough to write starting tomorrow

[mintypsii]

i wonder how zeff would've reacted to sanji's bounty poster changing to "only alive" and then later to sanji "vinsmoke" (well known former conquerors/royalty of the north blue)

whether sanji's told zeff about germa or not, zeff would be stressed OUT

[demonwebs-a]

good morning vhaal does such a good job at playing it off as nbd i don't think most people realize how really terrified he is lolth on a deep cellular level

[ninkaku]

they didn’t need to go this hard in the stage play i fear like the director said “take five” and these two heard “ruin lives”

“you big into exploring the effect that oda’s limitless friendship had on dazai and how it shaped him as a person?”

[jizzlords]

ozzie's 18"0. not counting demon form. 👉👈 so.

[brianmaysclog]

NO I am NOT thinking of mid 40s single dad Toji whose in desperate need of a babysitter and he ends up falling for them

[ccaptain]

H:SR Kaeya has to find little joys in an otherwise melancholic life, and his main method to do that is singing.

Kaeya sings often: he sings quietly to soothe himself in situations of extreme stress, almost unconsciously. He sings while cooking breakfast, lunch or dinner, he sings while doing the dishes, he sings little trying tunes while working. He sings while doing long walks. He sings when he's sad, and sings to other people, too. He'd be happy to sing if asked, a little flustered if anything- he has that nice voice of his.

Mostly, he hums- it's rare that he uses words, but when he does, some songs are recognizable in English- some are in other languages scattered across galaxies, and some other are tuneless melodies of civilizations and planets long gone that only he remembers amd keeps alive with his voice and memory. Nothing, not even melodies, die with him.

[hey-heigo]

i should probably add tags to thpff to establish that everyone's fucked up. like yes there will be soft moments and gentle moments but also they are being severely twisted by their circumstance so there's no possible way they can still be 'normal'...even by canon standards. a normal 'healthy' relationship is a long way off

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

Snap. (may change later :)

-This is just a quick scene, an experiment with our dear Leo and his dear son. If you're curious about this Oc, I made an earlier post about him a while ago. This may be changed later, I tried drawing it and then I was writing so.. Im still working on how to have Leo as a character, so if its off base lemme know ;) I know your not a Leo gal but.. @redsrooftopprincess just wanna share..I will stop tagging you if it annoys you :V your writing is just awesome so-

(I hardly write scenes, so if this feels rushed. SOrry. Also angst. No fluff on this one Ya'll.)

-

Mucha was staring down hard at the flooring of the dojo, his tired muscles now shaking and aching. His father’s massive form looming over him. Leonardo was seated of course, his steely eyes closed in deep concentration, one who didn't know the mutant would think he was deep in meditation. Curved into a perfect form for the clearing of the mind, Mucha knew the older mutant very well however. He saw the taunt balled muscle of his Master’s shoulders. The hard line of his face, deep breathes too deep to be calm. More acquainted with trying to be. Trying to stitch together his worn thin threaded patience. Mucha knew look intimately, and his mind would not calm. A torrent of nerves rattled and washed his brain as he held his own seated position. Dirt and scratches littering his hide stinging sharply, with every twitch of his overworked flesh. His gaze had flickered to his father’s face after being sat down. He had grown too anxious to stare at the older turtle’s prized teapot. It had long grown cold. His father’s cup was still full, untouched through the night. “You're supposed to have your eyes closed,” A solitary brilliant blue eye opened, Mucha almost choked. “Or will you be breaking those simple rules too?”  Leonardo’s voice cut deeper than his twin blades ever could, any bit of composure that Mucha had was flayed away. “D..dad I'm sorry-” Leo’s fists clenched, brow bunching. “Do not ‘sorry’ me Mucha! You,” A deep breath through his nose, " broke the only rule I gave you.” Mucha bit his tongue to suppress his choked noise of guilt. “A rule I made you swear to, if you were going to take your cousin’s on patrols. What was it again Mucha?” Leonardo tilted his head, anger coating his words in a lowly growl. The young turtle whimpered softly, guilt clogging his throat. “Dad let me- Say. It.” With a shaky breath, Mucha forced out, “Never stay out past four, but Dad-” Leo interrupted him, “The only one, and you broke it! To what? Take a peak at a human?” Mucha opened his beak to argue, that the pretty redhead was more than just a ‘human’. His father blocked the response. “Oh no, I'm sorry, to chase after a human girl endangering your cousins,” Leo’s voice grew angrier with every syllable. “ Almost getting Maddie KILLED.” Mucha winced hard, Madonna's crumpled form flitting across his mind. “Over a crush?!” Leo was losing his temper, now frustration surfacing in a boil. Leonardo’s young son bowed his head, face and eyes burning. If he could just understand. Leo took a deep breath rubbing his temples, while something akin to anger began to overwhelm Mucha’s earlier guilt. His brow furrowing in memory of the girl’s soft crying. His promise to protect her. “Fathe-” “No stop, I don't want your excuses.” While Leonardo’s anger began to temper and harden. Mucha curled his beak into a scowl.

 “Nothing will change the fact you left the lair”, 

To save

“To go and see,”

 My friend

“a human you had no business interacting with! If she had seen you-..” Something flashed across Leo’s face, something that cracked that anger. Slowly his lead gaze narrowed on the new wounds his son had gained. Mucha’s scowl deepened, Leo’s face hardened. “Don't act like such a child, just because you got caught.” Leo leaned back, his breaths evening. “Pouting will just add to your punishment.” Mucha opened his beak once more, gaze pleading. “Nope, you're in trouble kid. No getting out of it.” “Dad-” Urgent and eyes glassy he tried again. “Enough, I won't hear it. You're not weaselling out of this.” Leo stood easily rolling his shoulders, face showing disappointment in his child’s seeming protests. Mucha felt the tears agonise his eyes at the expression, he hated that look. He just wanted to explain. But his Father had no care for it. That hurt. Rage snapped in his throat as Leo smirked. Condescendingly. “Not fun being a punk huh?” The jerk's smile dropped. “Maybe you’ll think about it next time, before you drag your cousins on some venture. Right at dawn may I add.” There was coldness glinting in the mutant’s eyes, Mucha felt the hurt filled frustration run over. It coated his heart, drowning his guilt at disobeying. The pain of disappointing the most important person in his life. Of Dad not listening, never listening. He felt an angry sob tear from his throat. Leo stiffened. Tears overflowed and Leo sighed softly. “Mucha-OH FUCK YOU!” Leo blanched. Mucha strained to stand, the sixteen year old’s legs trembling from jumping and climbing for hours on end.  Three fingered fist clenched and breathing heavy Mucha began, and demanded his Father’s attention this time…