#ill get to them eventually and with love LOL

[vityaposting]

WRITING REQUEST HIII

what about reader going to viktor to get augmented for a non physical reason - like maybe mental illness or addiction or something (idk dealers choice) and viktor slowly getting to know them over time. eventually reader overcomes their problem, and viktor realises that he likes reader just the way they are - unaugmented or not.

don't feel obligated to do this lol just saw that your requests where open

HI!!!! i love this request so much i decided it needs to be a multi chapter thing (4 or 5 probably?) i got broken up with yesterday so i ATE this prompt up lol

how to heal a rusted heart - mh!viktor x gn!reader - part 1

wc: 2100

You approach Emberflit Alley with no small amount of trepidation. The house is smaller than you expected, shoddier on the outside; shutters hang from foggy, cracked windows, and ivy like claw-scratches makes its way up the worn brick walls. You know—as does every Zaunite you’ve ever met—that there is more to the Machine Herald’s residence than meets the eye. You don’t know exactly how—somewhere, some way, there is a massive laboratory tucked behind the house’s unassuming facade. Maybe a separate underground sector, or even a pocket dimension supplied by the Herald’s knowledge of thinning the barrier between tech and magic. All these speculations are, of course, rumors—you’ve never had a reason to solve the mystery yourself. Until today. Today, you’d snapped.

Your chest still burns with the fury of it all. Betrayal. And to think they’d claimed to love you. Sickly-sweet self-satisfaction rises like bile to the back of your throat, putting a little more power behind your knock on the door. You’d been right. Paranoia, your doctor had proclaimed years ago—a not-uncommon symptom of your particular ailment. Well, was it true paranoia if you were always proven right in the end?

It doesn’t matter. After tonight, you won’t care.

A thickly-accented voice cuts through the speaker above the knocker: “You may enter.”

Ominous. You push away your trepidation, another instinct you’d be free of sooner rather than later. The door is heavy steel—you have to use your shoulder to pry it open, but once you’ve managed its weight, it swings inward for you on well-oiled hinges.

You emerge into a wide space thick with the stenches of metal and oil, cast under an ambient glow in various shades of orange. Lights flicker at you from lanterns on the walls, from faint bulbs hung across the ceiling. A lab bench spans the entire length of the room, which seems impossibly large compared to the house’s outer facade. A pocket dimension it is, then. Maybe. You still can’t be sure. The equipment littered across the bench is foreign and complex-looking.

The whistle of steam and clicking of gears greets you before the Herald himself can.

He’s tinkering with something. Something sharp. He sets it down, turns on his stool, lowers his hood and pushes his goggles onto his forehead. You aren’t quite sure what you expected the Machine Herald to look like under his armor and mask. If he even takes them off at all. Whatever you expected, this isn’t it.

“Good evening,” he says levelly. His voice rumbles in his throat, his accent lending the greeting a soft, alluring quality. He tilts his head, an oddly innocent gesture, considering his reputation. “With what can I be of service?”

The words you’ve been rehearsing for hours lodge themself in your throat, and even a heavy swallow can’t force them out. The Herald is unblinking. Molten orange pupils burn into yours, piercing against his dark scleras. His face is pale and his features sharp—he’s beautiful, you note, not completely willingly—and his frame is thin and willowy beneath his cloak.

“Well?” he prompts, and shame floods you, reminding you why you decided to take measures this drastic in the first place. “Nobody comes this deep into the Lanes just to visit me. Not to say I mind the solitude.”

He doesn’t want you here.

You’re here for a service, scolds the rational side of your mind, a side which seems to grow more and more powerless with every passing week, with every friend you lose, with every burst of rage and every bridge you burn. A service he openly advertises. He allowed you to open the door. He could have… have death-rayed you.

“Mister… Machine Herald,” you begin, horrendously embarrassed at how your voice quavers. The air in the lab is muggy. You wrap your arms around your middle anyway. “I’ve heard of the… the services you provide, and I—”

“Viktor,” he interrupts. “Viktor will suffice.”

You cough. His eyes narrow.

“Go on. You seek augmentation.”

“Of the… unconventional variety, I guess you could say. Less of a physical augmentation and more of a…”

“You are at war with your own mind,” he observes. “I can see it in your eyes. Come closer.”

And you do, because there’s something in the rumble of his voice—which is so close to a growl you feel weak in the knees—and the sharp glow of his eyes that draws you in like a moth to a lantern. He gestures to the second stool at his side. You wonder who it’s normally reserved for. Patients? Experimental subjects? A partner, perhaps—or has he always only worked alone?

“You’re tense. Relax.” He speaks with such calm authority that it’s impossible not to listen. “I will not touch you without explicit permission. If it’s only emotional suppression you seek, I may be able to offer a solution that does not require me to lay hands on you.”

You don’t know why this disappoints you.

He tilts his head as he gazes at you, one gloved hand fidgeting with a trinket on his workbench. “Tell me. In detail. What is it you want out of this? What causes you such pain?”

“Everything,” you say. It’s almost a whimper. He raises an eyebrow. Clearing the embarrassment from your throat, you try again. “Everything is… is so much. I’m scared. All the time. I can’t love anyone anymore, I… I’m afraid they’ll all leave me.” Oftentimes, they do, you neglect to add. This won’t concern Viktor. He has no reason to care. “And it can change on a coin. It’s like you said. It’s like being at war.” A war between your body and your brain, you’ve realized, would never be one worth fighting. This, however, seems to be the only way to put an end to things. You look at Viktor plaintively, hoping he isn’t judging. If the rumors are true, he removed his ability to judge long ago.

“Ah,” he said after a silence that seemed to stretch for eons. “I understand.”

“My doctor says it’s an… ailment.”

“That may be,” he says. “As such, you have a right to want to heal it. Procedures with the intent to alter emotions are harder and riskier than procedures focused on the physical. I am happy to give you what you ask for, but you must be aware of the potential consequences. Do you intend to eliminate all emotions, or… only their extremities?”

“Only the extremities.” Life will be much easier, you think, if you never have to love another person again. Amicable acquaintanceship, however, hurts nobody.

“Good,” he hums. “Complete removal is difficult. If I weren’t so stubborn I’d nearly say it was impossible.”

“How do you know?”

“I tried,” he says plainly.

“And you failed?” You don’t know what emboldens you to say it.

“I simply have not yet succeeded.”

You look at him, then, really look at him. And behind those beautiful eyes that glow with the light of a hundred fires, shine with the darkness of a hundred polluted Zaun nights, you almost swear you see your own loneliness staring back at you.

“It’s risky,” he continues. “In the case that something goes awry, do not say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course,” you whisper.

“May I take a closer look? I’d like to get a feel for the incision site.”

You nod a silent confirmation and bow your head, gripping the sides of the stool. He wheels himself closer. Lifts his hand. You hold your breath.

The Herald’s hands are gentle when they card through your hair, pushing a few strands away from your forehead. His demeanor now is a far cry from the terrifying villain you know him to be—the chaos-wreaking force of evil most of Zaun insists he is. You wonder, as your breathing calms, exactly how many of the tales are wild fantasy, because this soft touch is the realest thing you've felt in a long, long time.

“All I can promise you is that I will be careful,” he murmurs, tracing a line from the center of your forehead to the crown of your hair. “This particular procedure is immensely detail-oriented, even in comparison to the others I’ve performed. To dampen your emotions, I will be altering your limbic system, in the simplest of terms. However, if I am not meticulous, I risk damaging other functions, such as reasoning or memory.”

Truth be told, waking up without any memory of the hurt you’ve endured doesn’t sound too awful.

But, you realize as a shiver runs down your spine—you want to remember this.

“There is another option,” Viktor goes on. You’re forced to draw your attention away from his soft, prodding touches. “Implants in the form of pills. Those, however, I’ve not yet managed to make permanent. They’re finicky, and they don’t last long. You’d have to take them twice a day—one separate medication for each emotion you wish to suppress. I imagine it would all be a hassle. This, however… if you consent, I can perform the entire procedure in one process, and your desired results will be immediate.” He draws his hand back, lightly scratching your scalp—it’s enough to relax, but not enough to hurt. “You don’t have to decide today.”

“No, no. That’s alright. I’ll take the… the surgery.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Finality settles over you like a chilly breeze as he pulls away. You’ll finally be free. Free of heartbreak, of fury, of flaws. There’s something in his mechanical gaze that unnerves you and enthralls you simultaneously. Something human.

“Being that this is a complicated procedure,” he says, “I will have to schedule it in advance. I will reserve an entire day for you and I cannot free the time for a week. A week from today. Is that alright with you? I can give you the medication to temporarily curb your symptoms in the meantime, if you like. It’s experimental, but I am relatively sure of its safety.”

He looks so hopeful. You know the joy etched in the lines of his sharp face is nothing more than the joy of scientific innovation, but it’s endearing all the same. The Machine Herald of Zaun’s urban legends is a completely different person. You find it hard to believe that the cackling, murderous tyrant rumored to haunt the Lanes even shares a name with the man in front of you. There’s a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, and a few locks of hair sticking up haphazardly from beneath his goggles. You find yourself cracking a grin for the first time in days.

“No,” you say. Your chest feels lighter. Just a bit. Enough to be noticeable, enough to instill the certainty that trusting your life to the Herald is the right decision—malicious cackle, terrifying armor, death laser, and all. “No, I’ll be alright.”

He crosses his arms over his lap. “You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he says softly. “But the ache in your heart… someone put it there. I know the feeling. You are not the first to be driven away from loving altogether. I once thought I had a simple fix. I… do not know if it was the foolproof solution I thought it was. I will perform any procedure on you that you wish. But you should know this. Metal is perfection, yes, but love… love can rust the strongest steel.” He swallows, fiery eyes flickering. “I thought I’d warn you. However, I do my best for all my patients, and you are no exception.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. You’re grateful for the lab’s low lighting—it’s unlikely Viktor can see the blush crawling up your neck. “I—thank you.”

“Do you still want this? Even considering the risk?”

He looks at you so softly. He must look at everyone that softly, you realize, but the knowledge doesn’t make you feel any less warm. “Yeah.”

He gives you a businesslike nod, and you can see the Machine Herald’s persona sliding back into place. Cold. Unfeeling. For a moment, though, you saw the truth. “Thank you. I will see you one week from today—be here as early in the morning as you please. I’ll walk you out. Be safe out there. I can only complete the procedure if you return to me in one piece.”

What a gentleman, you think, but you say nothing. You accept with a small smile.

His hand brushes your shoulder as you reach for the handle of the door. Your whole body sparks, as if you’re a machine already.

“Goodbye,” he says. “And best of luck. I will pray that the next week treats you kindly.”

You almost want to hug him goodbye—out of thanks if nothing else. You hold yourself back. “I’ll see you then.”

The last thing you see before the door shuts behind you are his eyes. Two pinpricks of light in the darkness of the Lanes. Mechanical though they are, you realize they still crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

[userboxvariety]

*does a super massive love beam at you* YOUR USERBOXES ARE SO COOL!!!!!! How many requests do you have in your inbox rn???? I wanna request but I don’t wanna if there’s too many TvT

there r currently 31 requests in my inbox :DD !!

[rippedlovelines]

the merits of the twinyards learning to show their love for each other in slow stilted actions r a lot. for me. to me. little things. aaron buying andrew his favorite sweets because he remembers his picky eating tendencies; andrew throwing a blanket over aaron passed out in the living room after pulling an all-nighter. opening up more during their sessions w bee, angry accusations n cold statements melting into talking abt hurts n what shaped them growing up which becomes even conversation n learning abt each other more ( to bee’s not so small delight.)

the glares n perpetual scowls aaron once wore in andrew presence turn into smth more knowing n relaxed. he thinks one day he’ll be able to forgive andrew for tilda’s death; knowing the reasons behind it now, how andrew did it for his sake. (when he tells andrew that he thought he was going to die, during the days he was locked in that bathroom, his voice is raw. andrew’s face shutters. then, he says in what is possibly the closest thing to regret aaron has ever heard from andrew, “If I could make what you experienced during that time less painful, I would.” n really what’s done is done n there’s no going back, but aaron needed some sort of closure, smth, anything ! so he turns away n tries not to shake from all the emotions of what he’s feeling. andrew sits there n waits for him to return to normal.) andrew begins to make eye contact w aaron, he stops looking thru him—choosing to acknowledge his existence, instead. he sees how aaron is making an effort, clumsily attempting to prove that he isn’t letting andrew go, in spite of everything. (“ I’m not going anywhere. I hate you, but I’m still not going anywhere.” aaron says defiantly during one session where andrew said smth abt aaron going on his merry way after graduation. it shocks andrew. he stills suddenly n it’s v hard for him to look away from aaron’s blazing eyes. “Do what you like.” andrew replies stiffly. it’s acceptance n permission wrapped up in one.)

they learn how to mend the fragments of their broken past so they can both move forward. aaron releasing his resentment of andrew slowly but surely. andrew allowing himself to think of aaron as more than someone who will disappear one day, someone permanent in his life. they talk to each other !!! they meet up to do things—in complete silence sometimes, with small comments here n there in other times. after graduation, andrew goes to play on the east coast while aaron does med school elsewhere. it’s a big change. it’s difficult, often times. aaron will look next to himself with words on the tip of his tongue, then realize andrew is not around. andrew will look behind him as he traverses the streets of nyc, hand outstretched as tho to hold onto smth, a shirt perhaps, forgetting that aaron is not there.

But!!!

the two of them call each other once a year,month, week— the occurrences gradually becoming more n more frequent. 3 years pass by. andrew is in town for a game. afterwards, he meets up w aaron for a drink. it’s quiet. not uncomfortable. they take each other in n note how separation n time away has made the other different. aaron is in a good mood , hair shaved close down, face full, n nothing like the raggedy n hollowed boy andrew met years ago. aaron in turn observes how andrew’s eyes r half-lidded w smth one would call happiness if it were anyone else, but it’s js content for andrew; his arms tattooed beneath his armbands, n a looseness to his shoulders that aaron could not have ever believed andrew to posses once upon a time. after some small talk n a small congratulations from aaron for andrew’s team win, andrew slips a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket n shoves it at aaron, face blank. it’s a new team contract. it’s in the same city as aaron’s med school :) aaron decidedly does not smile, but sources say his lips quirked up a bit. they order cheesecake. everything is fine. they r brothers. they walk out together.

[littlelightfish]

This half-foot. Dandan.

Looks preety similar to this lady here (I'll put them together so you see):

Half-lidded eyes, black hair&eyes, small eyebrows, curly hair... Dandan's skin is lighter probably because of low sun exposure (dungeon), and he has tons of freckles because he preety.

This two are clearly relatives if not siblings.

Flertom is a mirror image of the lady up there. She got Chil's eyes. She even has almost the same haircut (a bit longer). She's clearly the mother. We've solved Chilchuck's wife mystery.

But this wasn't what I was going to say.

This implies that Wife and Dandan both knew Chilchuck since their childhood. Because there's no way that Chil was just friend of the sister. They're both close to the same age, and I'll say Dandan is a Younger sibiling (she gives big sis vibes, and he gives young bro vibes). So either she introduced him to her brother or he introduced him to his sister and they became best friends as kids.

Could you imagine how their relationship was after Chil's Wife left him?

He knows he has to say something, but he doesn't want to end his relationships. At the end he takes his sister's side. He distances a bit from Chilchuck, calling him an "aquitance" rather than a friend. It isn't that he hates him, is just that it's complicated. And they both know it. They're in good terms tho, they just aren't best friends anymore and they don't talk about it. Their worry is the guild, not their personal stuff.

That's why Dandan introduces Chilchuck to Laios. If they were in bad terms, he would've suggested any other half-foot. They both priorize the guild and general safety of their own race. That's why Dandan suggests Chil instead of a less experienced hafling. He cares about the union and respects Chil's time and experience in dungeons. They're on good terms, at least good enough. Summing up, I get the feeling Dandan doesn't particularly likes Chil after what happened with his sister, but he respects him at least.

[paint-it-dead]

-"Start Here" by Caitlyn Siehl

[beelittle]

Coloured the marinette sketches

[locksox]

forgot these in the big jon post oops lol

[buwheal]

OOTD faggin it up in the grocers cause I ran out of bengal spice teaa 💥💥💥

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

it's not sinking in that today might be the last day in my house and town for many months to come

[shadfinite]

ok but the thing is shadow and infinite isnt a "healthy" or "good" relationship at first. it takes them years to be good for each other. they shouldn't have been together! they should have broken up years ago! but they didn't and they are working through it and eventually things work out. EVENTUALLY Infinite stops enabling Shadow's self destructive behavior and EVENTUALLY Shadow stops tolerating the admittedly unacceptible way Infinite treats him.

See, Infinite doesn't know what it's like to be with someone who doesn't want to hurt him even a little. Every relationship he's ever been in has been a really unhealthy and dangerous power dynamic (he's been the weak one and the strong one before). It takes him YEARS DECADES maybe even CENTURIES to realize Shadow is NOT LIKE THAT. Shadow didn't even really want to specifically hurt Infinite when they first encountered each other in the Mystic Ruins. He was just doing a job. It takes Infinite such a long time to understand that. He's so obsessed with Shadow but he has this one conflicting core understanding with Shadow that he simply cannot wrap his head around. He needs to stay in control so that "when Shadow tries to fuck him over he has a way to regain the upper hand."

Shadow thinks he's lesser than everyone, even Infinite. Even though Infinite literally started a war and wanted to destroy everything just because he was bored. If Infinite wants all the power over him, Shadow is okay with that because surely he deserves it for being such a miserable creature. When Infinite calls him names and treats him poorly he just lets it happen because Infinite is the first person he's met in a long time who will treat him in a way he understands. To Shadow, this is unfortunately what true love looks like. Being attacked is familiar, and Shadow knows that when people are kind to him he doesn't know how to deal with it. He thinks Infinite is giving him a form of stability that he can't live without.

What's confusing for both of them is that they do have moments of tenderness, and they do have inexplicable boundaries that they never cross with each other. They've never discussed their limits, but there are things they would never do to each other because it'd be too much.

They have moments of vulnerability, where they are just sitting beside each other and Infinite is telling Shadow how beautiful he is. And Shadow believes it because he's pretty sure that Infinite wouldn't waste his time being nice if he didn't mean it. Shadow introduced Infinite to a part of himself he didn't know existed, a part of himself that doesn't want to have to try to hard to reach for the top. But that vulnerability is terrifying at first and neither of them want to acknowledge it. It just happens and then its back to business as usual again. They don't talk about it.

They will do things to each other that cause conflict or anger, enable each other's worst habits, but they won't try to change each other's identities. That's the hard limit. They might have an argument where they harp on each other's bad behavior, but it's just talk. They'd never do anything to each other that would actively contribute to a crisis because one thing they both understand on a fundamental level is that changing the answers to core questions like "What is my purpose?" or "What do I believe is right?" is mind breaking. They never force each other to do things that challenge the status quo or threaten to shake their already deteriorating stability.

But this boundary is also part of the problem. They, for a long time, don't let each other grow and absolutely get worse! They break each other down, but they keep making excuses for why they should stay together. People who constantly fight with each other should not be together!

And when I say "together" I don't really mean together. Their relationship is a situationship at best, but Infinite still refers to Shadow as his boyfriend. Shadow insists they aren't even friends, but doesn't really passionately refute when Infinite says they are together. He just deflects. Of course he wants to be Infinite's partner, but that commitment is terrifying and he doesn't get how Infinite can be ready to commit like that even though it's been YEARS. It feels so impermanent because Shadow's perception of time is based on his immortality. That's one thing Infinite doesn't have (doesn't really think he has).

Two things jade them: time and people.

Shadow and Infinite won't challenge each other's core values, but time and people will. For Shadow, this comes in the form of his admittedly slightly larger support system: people like Rouge Amy and Big especially, but also Sonic to some degree. Infinite stagnates. His only support system is Shadow, really. He also has, like, Big and Sonic and Wave, but he isn't ever vulnerable with them in the way Shadow is with his. Shadow starts to grow, Infinite doesn't.

Infinite is definitely the worse off in this relationship. Shadow always knew that. They both knew it when they got together. Shadow has a savior complex. He thought he could fix it.

It in fact gets worse. Infinite is just bound to break that unspoken boundary they set, and Shadow has to put his foot down. Only then do they break all of their walls down and talk about those unacknowledgable moments. Only then do they get better. They can't work out unless they start to see each other as equals, but it's a really slow process for them to explore what that looks like or how its possible.

[cerealmonster15]

Hello!! :D if you’re still taking art reqs for the drawing meme maybe 1A or 2A for Autumn Oak/Linda Stampler please?

THANK YOU!!! :] 

YES this is how i know i've made it as a dndads fanartist - the rite of passage of receiving the autumn/linda request jsklfjdsl MILESTONE ACHIEVED!!!

i had to kinda fumble around my brain a bit to come up w/some designs so maybe theyll change!! who knows!!!

[send a pose prompt!]

[caimitos]

saw a post about projecting your ethnicity onto a character and started missing vespa ilkay. so so bad

[merioux]

im gonna be honest nobody in the ostc fucking likes me asides from my friends since a little something happened and it somewhat crapped down my "reputation" i guess. i need to come over that aand accept that if it wasnt over my designs and art id be given a weird look 24/7. lol. someone tried ruining my chances of being a guest artist of something just because we dont like eachother and someone else ripped off my oc because we dont like eachother people want me gone ahhhhhhhh i wish i could completely migrate to the lisa fandom but im a bit too young for that rn, atleast in my own opinion. i dont want to risk it taking a toll on my mental health considering lisa is one hell of a game LOL. i love this game but id prefer waiting that im a bit older to make it the "only" thing idk how to put it in words??? im bad at explainig aghhhhhh; i genuinely cant believe the community of a game so life ruining has been way nicer to me than a community of trading fucking objects with limbs like pokemon cards. idont really care anymore but its sad ppl dont really like me alot, however im glad ppl like my lisa stuff though i feel happier focusig on that and my friends an drawing . ah

funny cat video

[k1rameki]

17 hours this took. 17 DAMNED HOURS OF MY LIFE but its so worth it tbh

[depresseddepot]

I'm trying to find ways to slowly ease my way into taking walks (debilitating social anxiety) so I was going to download pokemon go again but my phone is too old :(

[snobgoblin]

may i see the ponies (or an artist’s rendition if u don’t wanna give photos) ? I miss my ponies but I think I had to get rid of them a few years ago :(

x oh noooo 😭😭😭 yeah ofc you can see them

I mostly have g1 but I do have g3 Strawberry Swirl and Fluttershy, and the others are all g1 I've got Snuzzle, Minty, Creamsicle, Spunky, Tropicle Sea Breeze, and Glow, and the babies are Yo-Yo, Baby Cotton Candy, and Milkweed 💕