#like yes sure hes alive. but he IS a robot.

[itissadbutitsmy-life]

I Realized Somethinh

WHERES FOOTBALL.

[hoshifighting]

I can’t wait for the day you decide to give us staff woozi😭🫶 Like yes give me that man ⚰️⚰️⚰️

staff!woozi

WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.

staff!woozi who’s practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds don’t fry your brain mid-show. he’s always just there—like this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, you’re kinda finding it cute now. he doesn’t even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.

you’re halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signal—a quick point down—he’s already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like he’s got some big secret: “left one’s crackling again?”

you turn, one eyebrow up. “damn, woozi, you psychic now or what?”

he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. “you’re predictable,” he says, but there’s that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, which—yeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.

he’s fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear it’s like watching magic. “you keep playing with ‘em too much. one more yank, and i’m replacing it.”

“not my fault they suck,” you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.

“try it again..” he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. he’s already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, it’s jihoon. he’s on his perfectionist shit.

“testin’… one, two…” you go through it, all monotone, like you’re recitin’ a grocery list.

he glances up, hands fiddlin’ with some random connector piece, but he’s noddin’, brows all scrunched up like he’s concentratin’ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookin’ at you, he says, “speak up like you’re actually performin’—not just for me.”

staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.

“i am performin’,” you toss back, brows raised. “just, y’know, waitin’ for the tech crew to keep up.”

he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when he’s two seconds away from roastin’ you to death. “keep up? alright, superstar, let’s get your fancy ass mic workin’ then.”

staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, there’s no space to breathe—let alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.

“how can you even breathe in these? hold still.” he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.

“this is… really necessary?” you breathe out, tryin’ to keep your voice casual, even though your heart’s doin’ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.

he doesn’t even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippin’ over itself. “unless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot… yeah, this is necessary.”

his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. you’re caught somewhere between wantin’ to annoyingly roll your eyes or “hornyly” roll your eyes.

staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, you’ve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesn’t complain—just settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.

but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. “y’know, there are other seats.”

you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. he’s lookin’ all pompous, like he’s finally pieced together your little routine. “it’s just… comfortable,” you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelin’ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.

he chuckles, a sound that’s too close to teasing. “oh, so i’m a human pillow now?”

“pretty much,” you mutter, pretendin’ to yawn. “it’s just… efficient.”

next thing you know, you’re both out cold, side by side, and the crew’s gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the team’s trying not to laugh.

staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. you’re sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and there’s woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. you’ve seen him do this before—earbuds in, watchin’ his anime.

so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leanin’ over his shoulder, catchin’ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng

“you’re into this?” you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.

he pulls one earbud out, glancin’ at you like he’s deciding whether or not to share his “serious” interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and you’re nodding, totally faking that you get it, but he’s so damn into it, you can’t help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.

when you’re waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you don’t know half of what’s going on, but jihoon’s talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like it’s life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.

you don’t know how you ended up here, exactly— n woozi’s hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but you’re here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like he’s watching some masterpiece.

it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and you’d swear woozi’s eyes practically lit up when you said you’d “totally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.” it became your thing on tour—grabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.

but right now? you’re barely paying attention to the screen. woozi’s sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like he’s been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didn’t even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like he’s giving you a whole show without even trying.

“are you even watching?” he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.

“oh, yeah, totally!” you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. “i know… exactly… what’s going on here.” but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.

staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused it’s like he’s analyzing every frame. you’re beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so often—at first just a quick look to make sure you’re out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. you’d been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasn’t a surprise.

but then, he hears it—his name, whispered under your breath, soft like it’s the only thing on your mind even while you’re dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like you’re holding onto some sweet secret even he isn’t supposed to know.

and suddenly, he’s more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.

woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.

staff!woozi, who’s suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didn’t just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure things’ll be back to normal—you’ve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, he’s keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like he’s suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.

you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didn’t notice.

you huff. “yo, what’s your deal? i’m just trying to sleep, and you’re over here playing hard-to-get?”

he glances over, raising an eyebrow.

“don’t act like you’re too good for it.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you let me last night.”

“yeah, well, I’m not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.”

you nudge him with your elbow. “since when did you start caring about your neck, huh? you’re literally hunched over soundboards for a living.”

he shoots you a side-eye. “and maybe that’s why i need to protect it now.”

you snicker, leaning back, but there’s that stubborn pout on your face. “whatever, woozi. don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you didn’t sleep enough watching the show without me.”

you’re still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it — just a low mumble under his breath. “not my fault you were… moaning my name last night…”

your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. “excuse me?” you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.

he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and he’s already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.

you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream you’d had flooding back—heat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.

“so… you heard that?”

his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression he’s clinging to. “yeah, uh… kinda hard to miss...?”

you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you can’t resist sneaking a glance at him. he’s biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear there’s a faint smirk he’s trying to hide.

“god, woozi, you could’ve just… i dunno, woken me up or something!” you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.

“yeah, right,” he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. “like you’d want that.”

[tapakah0]

(I wouldn't be able to fully show all the emotions in a limited space on the canvas, so the other half… in the form of a sketchy animatic. Be sure to watch with sound)

pt. 4 | pt. 6 And now… let me say a few words… I started all this just to show the death of Raph. I didn't want to make his death sad or tragic, it should be grandiose, worthy of a real hero, worthy of an older brother. "Like a boss". You may be tired of seeing his self-sacrifice in any form, but all the options that I saw … yes, they are good, but they are not at all on the scale that Raph is capable of. They're having a world war, all the brothers have been thrashing these aliens like kids in the movie, and all I get is Raph pinned down by the rubble?? (I only like this version when he's already a robot, but I don't like it at all when he's alive, still powerfull (because, again, their ninpo most likely connected to their feelings, and Raph is the one who can use full out of it alongside with Mikey) Raph is terribly strong, if he were alive to the very end, I'm sure he would scare the krang on a par with Donnie, because, firstly, Mikey is not so scary for them because of the side effect of his ninpo, secondly, Leo lost his ninpo. So…even if briefly and rudely enough, but I wanted to show how strong the effect of Raph's death had on everyone, not just to forget about him later. (This character is very difficult for me myself, unfortunately, I can’t convey all the little things of his character and … ha ha, I can’t basically draw him correctly… mmm …) (Anyway... there will be some more parts and maybe one more episode... I'm not sure... and I'm still struggling to draw the way I like... unsuccessfully so far... khm) (Thanks to someone, my thoughts are now completely filled with the thought of finally getting back to Casey, so I can't think straight… I'm in Hell right now)

Song: Two Steps From Hell - Star Sky

[2tcs]

Day 3: reunions after a long time and rain

“Hay Bruce?” Duke asked as he walked out of the locker room. It was the end of his shift, thank god, so everyone was getting ready for the night shift.

“What's going on chum?”

“My cousin is coming to Gotham for a senior field trip thing next week to visit Gotham U and I was wondering if he and his friends can stay at the manor so they don’t have to pay for a hotel.”

“We’ll have to run a background check on them” “Already done!” Duke interrupted Bruce and jumped around him to get to the batcomputer to open up the files.

“Hmm. You really want your cousin to visit huh.” Bruce said as he scanned through the files.

“Ya. I haven’t seen him in ages and even though we text it’s not the same as an in-person visit. And Gotham isn’t safe for tourists so, manor.”

“Mhm, Duke?”

“Yes, Bruce?”

“Why are his and his friends' hometown labeled as unconfirmed?”

“Well, that may be one of the reasons I thought it would be a good idea for everyone to meet them? I know Tucker lives in Amity Park, Illinois. I’ve even visited him there when we were kids. But when I tried to look it up for the background check I couldn’t find it. It’s like it never existed. When I tried to ask him about it he kinda dodged my question and changed the subject. Like he was nervous about someone overhearing.”

“Alright. I’ll inform Tim about their hometown and see if he can find out what’s going on. Make sure you tell Alfried that we are having guests.”

“Thank you so much Bruce! I’ll go tell Alfried right now. Night!” Duke yelled as he ran to the elevator.

👻🦇👻🦇

“Tucker! Over here!” Duke yelled as Tucker and his friends got off the bus.

“Duke! It’s good to see you! How have you been?” Tucker said as he ran up to Duke and gave him a side hug while using his free hand to point. “This is Danny and Sam. Danny, Sam. This is my cousin Duke.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. Tucker’s told me a lot about you two.” Duke said as he accepted handshakes from Sam then Danny.

“It’s nice to meet you too Duke. Hopefully, Tucker has told you only the worst of things about us.” Sam joked.

“Of course. Hay, did you really switch out all the frogs in your freshman biology class with robot frogs?”

“Don’t remind me. Those things were so creepy. They talked to you as you cut them open.” Danny said with a disgusted face.

“It was more humane than dissecting living animals.” Sam defended herself.

“Wait. The frogs were alive? Tucker! Why was your school using living frogs instead of cadaver frogs?” Duke asked in shock.

“I got no clue man. Anyways, do we need to call a cab to get to your place? Cause I’m not walking in this downpour.” Tucker said while looking around.

“Hold on right there Mr Foley. You all need to sign these forms so we can get ahold of you in case of an emergency.” Mr Lancer said as he walked up to the group with several papers. “And I would also like to speak to your guardian before my students leave so I know they are in safe hands.”

“Ahem. I’m afraid Master Wayne is occupied with work right now but I am his butler, Alfred Pennyworth and I am in charge of taking care of all the needs of the Wayne family and their guests. If need be here is the main phone number for the manor as well as the address. Is there anything else I can do to ensure you of your students’ safety?” Alfred said as he seemingly appeared out of thin air and handed Mr Lancer a business card with the aforementioned information written on the back.

“Thank you for this Mr Pennyworth. My name is Lenard Lancer. As the vice principal of Casper High School, I have a duty to the students of our school. So I will still need these three to fill out these forms before they leave.”

“Of course Mr Lancer. I fully understand. Now if you all would please finish with the paperwork, we can load into the car and get out of this dreadful weather.” Alfred said watching as Danny, Sam, and Tucker traded off on using each other's backs to fill out the forms and hand them back to Mr Lancer.

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: optimus has a dream about you

cw: obsessed!optimus, angst, fluff (only at the beginning), implied robot-fucking/valveplug, mentioned pregnancy, optimus is depressed

word count: 810

The mission took longer than he expected. Retaking the energon mine from the Decepticons stretched on for what felt like an eternity, as the enemy kept calling in reinforcements. For every fallen Vehicon, two more would appear, alive and ready. The battle dragged on too long, completely draining the Autobots’ energy and morale. But they succeeded. For the first time in many months, they claimed victory, securing a steady supply of energon.

Optimus was the first to cross the ground bridge, praying to Primus that you were still in the base. Once inside, he transformed gracefully, though in haste, and headed toward the platform. The tension left him instantly when he saw you on the couch with a book in hand. He made a mental note to ask you about it later.

Despite his exhaustion, he managed a smile, mirroring your animated expression. Getting close enough to the platform, he leaned down and pressed the gentlest, most tender kiss on your head, pouring all his immense love for you into that single act. You giggled as his warm breath lightly tousled your hair, and Optimus listened to your laughter as if it were the most beautiful melody, composed just for him. Feeling playful, he blew gently once more so you’d grace him with your laughter again.

The other team members paid no mind to the sweet scene, fully accustomed to your little exchanges of affection.

"Hello, my dearest," he murmured, still close to you. He didn’t want to leave your side. Ever.

"Hello, love. Mission accomplished?"

"Yes, we managed to secure the mine. We have supplies for the next few months."

"That’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you."

Now it was your turn to shower him with affection. You planted kisses on his warm metal face, making sure not to miss a single spot, so Optimus knew just how much you loved him. Such a simple gesture was enough to make the leader of the Autobots weak in the knees, looking as though he’d ascended to heaven. But thankfully, he didn’t have to ascend anywhere — his heaven was right there, wherever you were. He had never been so happy, so blissfully content. After all those years of brutal war, spilled energon, and lost comrades, he had finally found his piece of heaven.

"Optimus?"

He blinked a few times. He was no longer in the base. Before him stretched a vast panorama of mountains, forests, valleys, and lakes, with no beginning or end. He’d passed similar landscapes many times on patrol, admiring the beauty of this planet. Each time, they left him speechless.

"Optimus?"

He looked down to where the voice was coming from, and a smile appeared automatically when he saw you. You looked concerned, likely because of his momentary distraction; to comfort him, you were gently stroking the metal on his shoulder… When had he managed to mass-displace? He had no idea, and it didn’t matter as long as you were so close, touching him, focusing all your attention on him.

He wanted to hold you and never let go so much.

"You were gone for a long time. I was worried."

Looking at you as if you were the eighth wonder of the world, Optimus gently stroked your cheek, handling you like fine porcelain. You smiled at his gesture, snuggling closer into his metal servo. He was always so tender with you, so gentle, a contrast to his true, raw strength. He took care to never harm you, to always make you feel safe.

Especially during the pregnancy.

His caring optics instinctively shifted to your slightly rounded belly, widening in surprise. He looked startled, and he was. Shocked that your biologies were compatible enough to create an offspring together.

But he had known about it for a few months now…

Slowly, he moved his trembling hand to your belly, caressing the curve. A smile appeared on his slightly parted lips. Could it be that his life had finally come together? No more war, no more being a Prime? Could he finally be free?

"This is a dream, isn’t it?" he whispered, looking into your eyes.

But you were no longer there.

Optimus woke up tense and anxious. Of course, it had only been a dream. His life couldn’t be so perfect, so flawless. He clutched his face as the scenes from the dream played over in his processor, now tormenting him in the real world. You haunted him even in his dreams, offering no respite even in his most private realm. But, unfortunately for him, there was only one antidote for this condition.

With a heavy spark, he got up from his berth and left his quarters. He automatically headed toward the main section of the base, clinging desperately to the faint, naive hope that he’d find you there and maybe, just maybe you would spare him a glance.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓵 𝓝°5 ~ 𝓗𝓾𝓼𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

Oh, to be young and in love, in the most romantic era of the notorious 1950s, with one very magical man who never fail to make you swoon with every suave look who offers.

It isn't very often that Husker reminisces his past life - He knows, if he does, he will remember all of the good times, when his heart was gold and trembling with pure emotion - After all, if he recalls the time he was alive, and very much in love, his frozen heart will just shatter to dust once again, with the same infinite anguish he felt once everything was ripped away from his grasp.

A pain so intolerable, that runs so deep - A pain that no amount of alcohol can mend.

He never truly knows whether he wants to remain asleep forever, so that he will never have to face reality again, or if that would be a nightmare, tormenting him for the remaining abyss of eternity...

Or, perhaps he should stay awake, so that memories will stop toppling him over, beginning with a most beautiful reverie, yet always ending with the same night terror he must face every time.

If this is his way of paying for his irredeemable sins, then he is well aware he deserves it, and even more - Yet every smell reminds him of that sweet Chanel N°5 that she used to wear. Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of the gracious dances he would share with her. Every song he hears, he recalls that angelic voice of hers, and every time he lays abed and stares up at the ceiling, her seraphic visage flashes before him.

"You are drinking again." Angel slumped in one of the stools by the bar, noticing his best friend looking in a far worse state than usual. "Rough day?"

"Rough life." Husk rasped, chugging down a whole bottle of strong spirits.

"Wanna talk about it?" he tried, in vain, to appear sympathetic - The feline demon was far too gone into his own darkness to even think about slurring away his never-ending sorrows.

"I wanna die, that's what I want." he growled, slamming away the bottle into the nearest wall. "Just like this fucking bottle. That's what I fuckin' wanna do - I wanna die, damn it!"

Angel's eyes widened greatly - Yes, life in hell surely was crazy, and especially for demons like the two of them, who sold their souls away because of their own failures, both in life, and now, in hell - But what in the world could it have caused him to get so hopeless that he was unable to fight back the tears glistening in those tortured eyes?

Even someone like him couldn't dare to make light of the situation, or try and crack a joke, let alone taunt or flirt with him. He felt... Pity, for the poor bartender who always listens to others' woes, yet dares naught speak out his own problems.

"Listen... Husk, ergh... I'm not the best at comforting, okay? But... If I can help, you can tell me... And, if not, then... I'll still be here. And maybe try to keep the others away from you. How's that?" Husk didn't quite seem to compute what his friend said, though he robotically nodded his head, as if remote controlled.

Angel remained in that stool for a few hours, watching the winged demon drink bottle after bottle after bottle, yet his sorrows only washed over him tenfold with each shattered glass against a different wall. He wonders what is going through Husk's mind, what he's ruining himself over with each sigh o grip on his fur.

Who would have thought that, of all things possible, Husker's greatest lament was...

"I fucking hate red. Why the fuck are my wings red? Of all the fucking colours in hell, they just had to be red, yeah?" he stammered angrily, pulling at his feathers. "Y'know what? They can't change colour. Tried dyeing 'em, but nothin'. Got so much fuckin' red on me - I wonder if it's Hell's way of punishin' me forever for my fucking sins."

He hates red...? What an odd statement - He truly seems to have a personal vendetta against that colour - But why? It's just a colour, after all, it can do no wrong. "Why... Do you hate red so much...? Angeldust dared to ask.

At first, he was met with a low growl, hostile, yet inoffensive at its core. Then, he heard a most disturbing answer. "That was the colour of my wife's dress when I last went home." Angel's brain shut down completely. To think someone was trusting him with such a vulnerable piece of himself, the very core of their hopelessness, their weakness; In a way, he felt flattered that Husk trusted him so much, yet in another way... He couldn't help but feel borderless pity for his friend. He wishes such a fate to no one... Well, maybe to Valentino.

Angel forced himself to smile softly, placing his hand gingerly over his own, taking away the alcohol from his hand. "What was her name?" Husk looked up with shock, a little startled, right into his dual coloured eyes - He hasn't ever spoken her name out loud, it almost felt like a blasphemy against her purity. Yet... Maybe... "Y/N." he dared whisper.

"Y/N." Angel repeated after him. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady." Husk nodded his head.

"She was a Princess." he muttered, his sight blurry with tears.

"A Princess? Really? Nobility and all that?" much to his surprise, Husker chuckled.

"Nah, not quite." he rasped. "At heart, she was. Her family was very rich, so she was pampered up. Huge manor, servants, a personal maid, luxury brands, jewellery and perfumes, indulging in any studies and hobbies she liked..."

"How'd you two meet? I don't suppose you were a Prince or something, were you?" Angel tried to joke friendly, encouraging his friend to open up.

"Ha. Far from it." in his hand, a few dices appeared, and he idly played around with them. "I was an ugly dead beat from a working class broken family. Hardly worthy of her attention." he gritted his teeth bitterly. "Got around to finding work at a young age - Gambling, magic, sax player - If I had money to live, anything worked."

"Did you meet at one of your gigs?" Husk nodded his head affirmatively.

"No clue what she saw in me, Angel. She could do so much better." for a split second, he had a dry smirk on his face, before it disappeared again. "I asked her once, what the hell did she see in me - And she said... I played her favourite song. Silly, innit?"

He didn't receive a mocking laugh, much to his surprise - Instead, Angel cooed. He never imagined the jaded demon before him could be so romantic! "What did you play?" Instead of answering, Husk turned around to his bar, and took out another bottle, yet this time, he hummed a familiar tune as he was doing his bartending for two glasses. "Oh, now I get it - You always hum that song when no one's around! I thought you were just bored out of your mind." he let out an amused exhale. "Fly me to the moon... Refined tastes, alright."

"The stars in the sky never sparkles as brightly as those in her eyes when she looked at me." no wonder he never accepted any flirting from anyone - How could anyone match the love he had for Y/N? "If I were a decent man, I'd have told her not to waste her precious time and love on me. Instead, I was a selfish fuck. I stole years of her life... And in the end, I even stole her life. All because I wasn't even half the fucking man I pretended to be."

The conversation soon turned significantly sour. "I was the man - I was supposed to provide for her. Afford all that fucking expensive Chanel N°5, and the Dior dresses, the Chantelle lingerie, and the damn Cartier and Tiffany's jewellery." even someone more modern like Angel knew all those luxury brands, and was even more impressed and shocked that they could so easily afford such high-end items. "I brought her flowers every day and I took her out on brunches every morning, on dates every afternoon, and to soirees every fucking evening. She loved dancing at parties... But I suppose she preferred the moonlight over the chandeliers."

"You must have overworked yourself a bunch to afford all these things. I'm sure she appreciated it." Angel tried to comfort him, earning a nod of agreement.

"She told me she didn't need any gift, except for my presence. Genuine woman, that one. But how could I, in good conscience, go to her parents and ask for her hand in marriage, when I couldn't even afford a half-decent house with a room for each of her hobbies, a drawer for each month outfit, another for her shoes and three more for her bags, jewels and perfumes; and a large flower garden and a fucking rose gazebo and a swan pond with ten different breeds of pedigree dogs." Angel cringed a little, realising the tremendous gap between their living conditions. "I lost myself on the way to greatness. She was making me so euphoric that I just wanted to see her excited every moment of her life. I didn't need to eat or drink, I just needed to see her smile, and I could work again a few more days without rest."

"But then... You collapsed from overworking?" Husker shook his head.

"Worse. I fooled her parents completely, and we planned our wedding." he replied bitterly.

"How is that a bad thing? Isn't the wedding day the happiest day in a couple's life?" Husk sighed, from the deepest part of his soul.

"It was." he said. "I got greedy. I went to loan sharks, took a shit ton of money to make that wedding the most grand event the country saw in a while. Then went on a month-old honey moon around the world." he cursed in a few different languages that Angel couldn't understand, but was sure were some highly offensive and crude words that he would never utter around Y/N. "I don't need to say more, do I?"

Yeah, he needn't continue speaking the descent into madness, alright. Angeldust didn't want to hear that his friend's love story ended up in his soulmate getting murderer by the loan sharks, only for him to end up killing them, and then himself, out of pure rage and sorrow. He didn't want to hear that an innocent woman like Y/N never knew that her husband was broke and took loans, just to try and mimic the lavish lifestyle she grew up with and deserved. He didn't want to hear the broken shriek of anguish, or the streaming river of tears that befell as Husker saw her dead, on the floor, her pearly pink dress dyed a deep crimson from her own blood, and getting even more stained with each strong embrace he held around her shattered body, just like a precious porcelain doll fallen off the shelf.

They only just recently became something akin to 'best friends' from both sides... Yet Angel couldn't bare to hear the tragic end of the story, and he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he felt, having to live his afterlife as a Sinner, for as long as he has, without the woman he loves by his side.

"It's better this way, I guess. At least she finally got rid of me. Wherever she is, she must be living far better, than with a lying fuck like me who couldn't keep it together." the spider demon frowned, watching his friend slump on the bar counter.

"I don't think that's the case." he spoke vehemently. "I don't believe there is any person, of any kind, treasuring her as much as you did." Husk's ears perked up immediately, twitching lightly. "At least on an emotional way, I'd say, you and Y/N were lucky. There's so many people who never experience the love you had, let alone get to meet and marry their soulmate."

"What the fuck would you know?!" he growled, throwing a bottle at his head, only for the demon to dodge.

"... I wish I had fallen in love too, you know?" Husk gritted his teeth, realising the sensitive wound that he unwillingly stabbed open - But it wasn't his foult - He is hurt! He is in pain! "As a human, as a demon... I was like you, sort of. I was so shit at managing my life, that I ended up falling prey to my vices... I needed more and more, and I couldn't resist. I had no ration or logic. I gave in to my so-called 'friend group' and got addicted to drugs... Couldn't get rid of that addiction even after death... And I clinged on the only demon who could give me what I wanted... And now, I can't escape Val, even if I wanted to turn my life around and live the life that I never could." Angel had a wry smile on his face. "Do you really think a drug addict or the most famous porn star of hell would be able to meet his soulmate, without destroying their life in the process also?"

The two remained silent, only hanging their head and sighing. No matter how happy life can be for some... It will never have a chance of turning around for them. It just couldn't be. They are in hell, after all. Even Charlie won't be able to save them and bring them on the path of redemption, no matter how insanely enthusiastic and cheerful she can be... They were still sure to drown.

Somehow, this few hours of vulnerability brought Husk and Angel closer, and although they won't be speaking about it again, it was clear to the residents of the Hazbin Hotel that the two were as close as two demons can get, without the inclusion of vice or extortion.

Things were going well enough for them, even with the new addition of Sir Pentious, the villain turned... Something? It was still not too bad around the hotel. Though unsure of whatever Charlie's plan was, to fight against the purge from the Angels, they were still there to sort-of support whatever dream the Princess of the Pride Circle has.

That is, until the Hotel opened its doors to a brand new resident, a gorgeous demoness dressed elegantly in a dress of pearly pink, adorned with high quality jewellery, and with her long hair done stylishly, and smelling like a fresh day of Spring. She walked in guided by the Radio Demon, of all people, and she was smiling so demurely, completely unafraid of the fiend next to her, yet still reserved and soft.

"No way, is that Chanel N°5?! How'd you get it in here?!" Angel squealed, fangirling over the flowery perfume - But then, it clicked for him. Didn't Husker mention his wife loving this scent the most?

"Oh, you noticed! I am so happy that there are more sensible people - Erh - Demons with refined tastes!" the girl unfolded her laced fan and giggled behind it demurely.

Although she looked even more regal than even the Princess of Hell herself, as they stood next to each other, there was one particular detail that made the new-comer stand out from any other netizen.

With her hands clasped together over her chest, a bright white gold ring, with a most brilliant zircon was shining brighter than even the moon herself.

Whilst the other demons gathered around the seraphic beauty, wanting to have her attention, and even going as far as to have Alastor speak out about this new lady, Husker's breath stopped completely; His brain was going into overdrive, and his heart, he wanted to rip out of his chest.

That ring... That ring, he knew all to well - After all, he bought it himself, when he proposed to Y/N. That voice, the fashion, the mannerism... Even with altered looks, she looked the same. Even in hell, she looked the same. Even with demonic eyes, she looked the same.

She was the most beautiful woman in the universe.

"Y/N, this is Husker, our bartender." Charlie's face was split open by her overly-cheerful grin. "Husk, won't you introduce yourself to Y/N?"

"I'm not a fucking child. I don't need to introduce myself." the man hissed aggressively. "This is fucking stupid, I'm out." without even realising, he shattered the glass in his grasp, before stomping away into his room.

How could that be? Was this a nightmare? Surely, this must be some impersonator demon or something - There's no way an innocent being like Y/N could possibly have ended up in Hell, with a bunch of Sinners, of all thing. Was this his fault also? Did he bring her down with him to hell? Was he never going to be forgiven for all of the shit he's done in his previous life? Did Alastor bring her to the Hotel, so that he could blackmail him even more? Was his empty soul worth so little, in the end?

He was so afraid - Will Y/N be angry once she realises who he is? He couldn't blame her, obviously, he's earned her scorn... Yet why is his heart hurting so bad? He wishes so badly to jump on her and wrap her in his arms and wrings, and never again let her go. Ah, but he looks like a stupid flying cat... He looks ridiculous. There's no way...

...

Perhaps... She should stay with Al...

He has the influence, the money, the fashion sense, the looks, the freedom and privilege, the elegance...

Alastor has everything, and embodies everything that he could never be.

In life, he was selfish, and he didn't let go of her. Perhaps, the only way to apologise and make up for his sins was to let her be cherished by a man capable of doing what he never could.

As he lay awake on the bed, curled up and cursing his whole existence, wanting to sob until his body was all dried up and shriek until his throat was bleeding raw; he wanted to claw his face to velvety ribbons and drown his lungs with all of his blood... As he was succumbing to his self-hatred and spiraling down into the depths of despair, Y/N decided to end the day with some delicious pastries and an aromatic cup of tea in the garden, with her friend, Alastor.

Y/N was idly playing with her ring, looking at the inscription inside of it. 'Y/N ♡ Husker'. How absolutely adorable, she thought, a beautiful smile gracing her features. "He looks... Different. Are you sure it is the same person, Alastor?" her voice showed nervousness.

"Y/N, Y/N, would I lie to you?" he grinned, as always, sipping from his tea. "You should hear him purr. He truly resembles a little kitten."

Y/N looked up into he friend's eyes, a look of intense surprise and borderline intrigue taking over. "Are you being truthful? He... Purrs?" she gasped, quickly slipping her ring back on her finger.

"Yes, my darling. Unconsciously, someone strokes his fur, he gets so very adorable~." Alastor hums, watching the lady before him being so romantically melancholic over a life long gone. "What did you think about today's meeting?"

Y/N sighed, looking up into the sky. "I feel guilty for enjoying the moment I ripped Velvette apart, yet I feel no remorse for killing her. Such an uncouth and vulgar person has no right to behave with such disrespect towards me." Alastor's grin widened significantly. "And... I cannot wait for the next purge. I want to burn Heaven to cinders. Those hypocrites have grown far too arrogant for their own good, and I believe they need to be taught a harsh lesson."

"I see we are on the same wavelength as always, my dear." the demon sipped from his tea. "I am quite glad those arrogant hypocrites turned you away, for such a silly thing like - Vanity - They say. Beautiful women should be allowed to feel that-a-way, not ostracised for being such jewels for one's eyes." ever the charmer with poison dripping from his tongue. "Before I turn in for the evening, I have a gift for you - For friendship's sake." Y/N rose a suspicious eyebrow, watching as he took out a carefully folded picture from his blazer's pocket, and handing it to her. "I am going for a new fitting with Rosie tomorrow, should you wish to join us for a lovely day of self-care." the girl smiled, nodding her head at him in appreciation. "Have a pleasant evening."

Y/N muttered her pleasantries, and waited for Alastor to leave her sight, before unfolding the picture and bursting to tears. She cradled the precious memory to her heart, and sobbed for as long as her heart needed.

What have they done so wrong to deserve this? They were so happy while alive, so what went wrong? Was her opulent life, the reason for their downfall? Did her beloved think she wouldn't love him, if he couldn't match her family's wealth? Were all soulmates made to be torn apart while at their most blissful?

Still, she was grateful that she wasn't accepted into Heaven, for she would have had a most awful afterlife, as opposed to the many Overlord friends she made since she's been sent to Hell after her gruesome death, and the many favours she received from the Lords and Royals who went to Earth to retrieve items of importance for her.

Drying her tears, Y/N walked back inside the hotel, ready to turn in for the night, only to stop in her tracks as soon as she heard a soft sob, followed by a few very familiar curses in a variety of languages that she knew all too well. Her heart clenched as she stepped cautiously towards the foreign room, eavesdropping for any other sound, only to be met with more muffled cries.

Biting her lip, the demoness knocked on the door, only to be cursed harshly and told to fuck off. Y/N gulped, feeling taken aback by being talked in such a way - Though she immediately composed herself, reminding herself that he, too, is hurting, most likely far more than she is.

She excused herself before opening the door and entering. "What fucking part of 'FUCK OFF' don't you FUCKING UNDERSTA---" Husk was livid, getting in a sitting position as he growled with incredible hostility at the one who dared barge in his bedroom so rudely, only to remain speechless as he realised it was the demoness herself, standing with a sympathetic smile on her face. She also seemed to have been crying prior to this. "Oh. It is you." he cleared his throat, getting back on the bed, unable to face her.

"I have missed you dearly." her voice was so soft, so beautiful, so endearing... "I... Cannot believe that I am seeing you again. It seems to me that, no matter how far apart, our souls will forever traverse oceans of time and space, just to embrace each other once more."

She could hear him sniffling, his nails digging deep into the blanket. "You have always been so romantic and poetic." he grumbled, hiding his face in the pillow. "You shouldn't be here."

"You will have to be more specific, my love." she hummed, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "Here - In Hell? Or here - In your room? Either way, I would say, I am right where I need to be."

"I don't understand." as if burning with frustration, Husk shot up, looking with self-hatred at the girl. "You did nothing wrong your entire life. You were nothing but a living sunshine. A fucking flower in human form. What the fuck did those angels not agree with, that they cast you to this shit hole?"

"There was a time when you would beat up any man who would curse in my presence." Y/N's adorable giggle made the demon's face flush red. "I am sorry that you are suffering so much, at my expense. I could never repay you for everything you have done for me, while we were alive."

"What the hell are you apologising for anyway? I got you killed, not the other way around - And even if it were that way, it'd've been a blessing in disguise, getting rid of a dead beat worthless fuck like me." he huffed, looking away. "You always were too good for me." the demon had so much to say, so many regrets to yell, so much love to spill... Alas, he remained quiet. "You seemed happy with Al. I wish I could be that, while we were alive." his voice went to soft, it was barely audible. "You should... Stay with him."

"Yes, I am happy being friends with Alastor. He was the one who introduced me to Rosie and Carmilla and Zestial, and I cherish them all dearly, as my like-minded friends." Y/N spoke calmly, reaching her hand to cup her lover's soft cheek. "He also was the one to tell me of your misdemeanours. How you succumbed to your vices; to gambling and alcohol, to the the point that you lost your soul in a deal with him. How pitiful." he was so confused as to where she was trying to get with her words, yet in spite of the anticipation for blames and reproaches, he couldn't help but lean into her warm and gentle touch. "He is the one who helped me become an Overlord, and I took your place. And it is Alastor, and some other friends of mine, who helped retrieve some objects I thought long lost."

"... You still smell like Chanel N°5." his comment made the girl giggle again.

"One of my friends had his little imps go to the human world and rob an entire Chanel store, to bring me all Chanel N°5 perfume bottles." how incredulous, Husk thought, staring at the girl flabbergast, speaking of a clear crime, committed in her name. And then, he started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of her statement.

"Angel would kill to have a whole room of Chanel N°5." he said, his eyes softening as he put his hand over hers. "Y/N... Knowing that you are doing fine... That you aren't suffering... Or anything that I put you through... It makes me... Content."

"My darling." Y/N called out. "Do you remember the day of our wedding?"

"Of course I do. What's that question?"

With a cheeky grin, she took out the picture from her purse, handing it to her beloved. "Alastor was able to find this. His connections truly are amazing." Husk's eyes were wet with falling tears, and his lips were trembling. "I forgot I had pink roses braided in my hair. I was so busy looking at my handsome husband, that everything around me vanished." Husk's sobbing got even louder. "I wanted to frame this picture first, but I couldn't resist showing it to you first."

"Get out, Y/N! Get out!" his voice was broken and raw, so pained that even her heart shattered. "I am not the man you fell in love with. Why do you think my name is 'Husk'? I am just that - A husk of the man I never was. I am not worth anything. I don't amount to anything. I just gamble money I don't have and drink booze until I pass out. I don't deserve a second chance, and I certainly don't deserve you. I never did. I got you killed, damn it!"

"You think too much, you fool." Y/N cupped his face, bringing him into a gentle kiss - A kiss so loving that it numbed his pain, and hightened his senses, that got his heart pumping again and his lungs screaming for air. "I fell in love with you for good reason, and I intend to remain by your side, loving you." she smiled, wiping his tears with her thumb. "You can try as much as you wish to drive me away, but it will not work. You may succeed in convincing yourself that you are a lesser man, but you cannot do that with me. I know the man before me, and I know I will never leave you."

"Y/N..." the man sniffled, burying his face in her bosom, holding so tightly onto her petite body that he almost feared breaking her.

"There was once a time when you would only call me 'Sweety'." her honeyed giggle sounded so teasing, yet it didn't embarrass him. It served only to make him chuckle.

"There was also a time when I would only call you 'Chanel', if you recall." it almost felt as though they were both alive, and during their honey moon, without a single care in the world, and living a most carefree life.

"That does bring back some very amusing memories." Husk hummed in agreement, feeling melancholic, despite the intense joy surging through his body. Perhaps it was due to the unfamiliarity of this positive feeling, that he felt exhausted, or maybe from his excessive crying and whining. Regardless, he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in his wife's arms, and never leave this blasted room ever again.

"Can you promise me something?" the man asked. "I am selfish still - Even more so as a demon. I am nothing but filth. I didn't deserve you then, and I deserve you even less now. Still... Now that you're here... I can't let you go again. So..."

Though he found himself eating his words, Y/N only smiled, laying down on the bed and taking him down with her, nestling him comfortably into her loving embrace. "Alastor said you purr like a kitten. I would love to hear that, tonight." she hummed, hearing his annoyed snarl. "And every night going forward, for as long as we may live in this afterlife we have." Husk's body became stiff, frozen with shock. "That is what you wanted me to promise, isn't it? That I will never leave you." he didn't respond. "It is within our wedding vows, silly. There is no way I would walk away, after I have just found my soulmate."

"... Even though I look like... This? And I am irredeemably addicted to gambling and drinking, even more so than before... And I have lost my soul to the Radio Demon? I am stuck doing his bidding for eternity... And..." Y/N only hugged him closer.

"No matter what, in sickness and in death, you and I will still be soulbound." his small body was softly trembling with emotion. "I've got you, my darling. Worry not about anything. I have got you." she remained silent for a little while. "But, Husk..." her voice sounded so distant, so... Melancholic. "Do you... Still like me? The way you did before?"

Startled by her words, Husker jolted up, looking at the pitiful visage of his lover. "What... What do you mean...?"

"My skin is pure white, with no colour, except for my make up. My eyes are black where they should be white, and the worst carmine red, where they should be embodying the aspect of nature. Even my hair looks to be an abnormal colour, and no matter how much I try to dye it, it will not retain its original shade." she gulped, looking away from him. "Any shred of normalcy that I have... Is so tiresome, so much work to keep up, the princessy facade that I used to have, that I used to love... That you used to love..." she sighed softly. "Yet even that completely dissolves as soon as I transform in the monstrous form that I fight so hard to keep veiled from the world."

"Y/N." he caressed her soft face, only to notice small particles of powder latching onto his fur. "I'm a fucking furry mammal with wings. I look like a children's plush toy or somethin'. Meanwhile, you look as doll-like as always, and you're afraid I wouldn't like you anymore? How silly." he sighed, leaning to place a kiss on her forehead. For a few seconds, he stopped to ponder over a rather bold move, and in a split second, he retrieved a wooden box from under his bed. "This is my secret. Nobody has to know about this." he spoke, a rosy tint on his cheeks. "Open it."

Carefully, the girl did as instructed, revealing the content of the box. A bunch of letters were preserved there, all of them neatly placed and handwritten with black ink. "Husk..." Y/N felt the air in her lungs dissipating, as she realised all those letters were recreating the exchange of love words from their time alive. "H-How...?"

"I have all our letters memorised." he chuckled lightly. "I... Needed some way of keeping you close... Of remembering you. I am shit at drawing, but I have a good enough memory... So this was the only way of preserving what we had."

"It's been so long... And yet, you... You still remember... All of it? There must be tens, if not, hundreds of them... How...?" the girl was flabbergast, yet melting completely.

"I read them every night before sleep, when alive, and I read them every night now also." those precious teardrop diamonds caressing her cheeks falling down so gracefully.

𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈; 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒; 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝐼 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

His usual raspy voice sounded so romantic as he recited the love poem he wrote to her. A voice that he only reserved for her. A voice that only she would ever know.

𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓁𝓁; 𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒽𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁. 𝐼'𝓂 𝒶 𝒻𝑜𝑜𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈; 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈; 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒; 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁.

A love so pure and true, bottomless and without boundaries; Husker himself forgot just how endless his emotions could run. He thought himself jaded and cold, having lost his own heart, the second he lost her... Yet now... Perhaps it wasn't as bad as he first thought. Perhaps... Even someone like himself deserves some kind of redemption.

𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝑒. 𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒.

Without her, he wasn't whole. Without her, he is not himself. Without her, he is empty. Without her, his whole life falls apart. Without her, he is nothing but a worthless deadbeat.

𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒢𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓁𝓁. 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁.

But now, he is not alone anymore - Well, perhaps he never was to begin with, considering he still had Angel and Charlie, to some extent, yet nothing can compare to sweet Y/N's existence by his side. Nothing can heal his aching soul, or revert the damage he did to himself throughout life and afterlife, the way her love for him did.

♡ ~𝓘 ��𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼~♡

[revelboo]

BEGGING ON ALL FOURS FOR MORE STARSCREAM AND HIS LITTLE HUMAN shield PET

Everything is Alright Pt 2

Starscream x reader

• At some point you fell asleep wrapped in your weird smelling blanket that’s doing blessedly little against the chill in the huge room. By some miracle, your sleep is dreamless and not full of murderous robots. It’s cut short when you wake up to having a giant, alien fistful of junk food dumped on you. Including soda cans and those hurt.

• Starscream watches you fight free of the little nest you’ve made, while swearing nonstop. Up until you look up and spot him watching. Venting softly in amusement as your shoulders hunch and you drop your wide eyes to what he’s brought you, he waits. If he’s going to keep you as a bargaining chip to thwart the Autobots, you’ll need to be fed.

• Junk food. Your captor just dumped a handful of junk food on you- beef jerky, chips, soda, and candy. That has to be a good sign, right? Why bother feeding you if he’s just going to squish you? You just wish he hadn’t dropped it all on top of you. And you aren’t going to think too closely on where this stuff has come from. It’s not like he can just walk into a store and buy it. You’re snapped out of thoughts of sirens and explosions when you realize those fearsome red eyes are scrutinizing you and when you offer up a quiet and very uncertain ‘thank you?’ Big, scary robot freezes. Those wings on his back flick up then back down. Is… he surprised you thanked him?

• While he’s not exactly accustomed to being appreciated, Starscream recovers quickly enough. Of course, you’re thanking him. Your pitiful human life depends on him now. Which is a bit worrying now that he’s actually thinking about it. But how hard can humans be to care for?

• You’re positive that the thank you did take him off guard, a useful fact you file away for later. If it keeps you alive, then you will absolutely fawn over your captor, because you suspect he not only enjoys the attention, he craves it. And that smug, preening smirk paired with those little wing flutters? For a kidnapping killer robot, he’s kind of adorable. Not that you will ever admit that, because you definitely don’t have a death wish.

• Reaching into the empty cube he’s left the human in so it can’t get under ped, he’s only mildly annoyed that it scoots back as if to avoid his hand. Cocooned in that old cleaning cloth as it is, it doesn’t get far before he catches it and lifts it free. Tiny, soft hands clutch at his servos and he can feel its frantic heartbeat as he carries it to set on his desk.

• Heart hammering against your ribs, you swallow down the panic as he places you on a desk before taking a seat and reaching for a huge tablet. You’re not sure what to make of your new found freedom, but you really wish you’d grabbed a handful of snacks before you’d been snatched. You’re hungry.

• Scrolling through reports, Starscream keeps an optic on his new- what, pet? Yes. A pet. Letting out a long drawn vent, he works and tracks you as you stand up still wrapped in your cleaning cloth and dragging it along as you cautiously move around his desk. It only takes a low growl under his breath to discourage you from getting near the edge.

• Your head snaps around to your captor. Yep, he’s watching you. While you’d only wanted to see how high up you were, that apparently isn’t allowed. You retreat closer to him, watching indecipherable alien glyphs scroll on his tablet.

• “Can you believe those idiots? I told them that mine was unstable,” he mutters to himself, refocusing on his work. What he doesn’t expect is for you to wander closer, little face tipped up toward him.

• “They should have listened to you,” you say because agreeing with him has worked so far. And there it is, he freezes and those wings flick slightly. Red eyes dart toward you and away. Then back. He really does crave validation, doesn’t he? And it’s so easy.

Previous Next

[our-hextech-dream]

i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

[kacievvbbbb]

Seven Warlords of the Sea

*edit: because I like an idiot forgot Akainu didn't actually want the warlord program destroyed 😭

the real reason that Akainu *should have* voted for the destruction of the Warlord program is, besides them being filthy pirates, they were also just fucking embarrassing.

Like pathetically, how did we let this happen, embarrassing In the amount of time we have known them, between the 12 total Shichibukai;

4 of them got their asses beat by the same dude (1 of them before he even became a warlord)

2 of them went on to openly work for/ with said dude

1 of them literally fell in love with and actively sabotages efforts to apprehend this same dude

At two separate points they have actively tried to recruit (and succeeded once) the sons of two of their biggest ops.

Not to mention how 1 of them also got their ass beat by said dude's brother and then they would lose 3 more on the same day over the war for the life of said brother who was the same son they tried to recruit

2 of the Warlords would then go on to harbor/ mentor a member of this dude's crew and the dude himself! Arguably when he was the most wanted criminal alive. While the member that should have been the most robotically compliant protected the dude's pirate ship with his life.

They got played four different times on a world stage by 4 different members and 3 of said times all involved THIS SAME DUDE!

2 of the times involving the take over of a country that was then foiled by said dude while the marines did nothing.

They've had to imprison 2 of them and brainwash a 3rd

They've had to shop for replacements 7 whole times just in the span of 3 years

At no point have all seven members attended a meeting. Hell Hancock has attended not a one.

During the months before their disbandment there weren't even 7 of them! there were only 5

They are pretty sure 1 of them is fucking an emperor, 1 of them was working for an emperor, 1 of them might be (it is unconfirmed) the illegitimate son of a now dead emperor and another is protected by The actual fucking Dark King.

They literally had to fire Moria for being a fucking embarrassment

And one of them is a fucking clown

that would go on to recruit 2 other former warlords to create a guild that encourages the hunting of marines for sport and rise to the ranks of emperor.

Of course Akainu hates their fucking guts. They are quite literally the stupidest group of people he has ever had to work with in his life and they seem to bring out new levels of previously unreached stupidity in the marines! Just a cesspool of failure and incompetency trying to call itself a program.

95% of the reason Sengoku retired was to get away from these fucking idiots. He was drowing in the sea of paperwork Mihawk alone was causing not to mention the rest of their dumbasses and Akainu isn't about that life.

And that brings me to reason number 184 of why Akainu *should have* voted yes on disbanding the warlords

dealing with the fucking paper work storm and international incident that hit Sengoku's desk everytime Mihawk decided that needing to be fucked outweighed being subjected to an idiot. Nah Akainu needed them gone like yesterday.

[dykevanny]

VANWEEK DAY 6: EVERYONE LIVES/NO-ONE DIES

Aka, arcade gig, an au where everyone is significantly more okay :] rant under cut + more art

@vanweek2024

essentially, all of the glamrocks are okay, including bonnie, tape girl and vanessa are both alive and work at the starcade and west arcade respectfully. Can love truly blossom in the shared prize counter..?

The au focuses on vanessa and her coworkers along with the glamrocks and their various child companions, but a note- vanessa is still possessed, just less so. The reason why things are so much more okay is that William just has far less control over her and is stuck in a springbonnie plushie she wears like a backpack. They get along better because they spend less time fighting over, you know. Child murder. He’s still up to shit but just digitally- surely the recent glitches aren’t his fault, right?

Also, Gregory’s mom is alive!! And so is David, he’s here as a mechanic, mostly working with his childhood companion, a robot called Tiger Rock his father made a while ago. Yes this is one of the few times I’m including the mimic in anything. Yes it is a side character.

So, essentially a nice silly cute au where nothin g bad ever happens<333

Yet

[withered-tears]

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that the autobots aren't human.

Well, not in the literal sense. Of course they aren't human. They are giant alien robots that turn into cars, for goodness sake.

But they talk like humans. They walk like humans. Even the way they think sometimes feels extremely human-like.

So sometimes, yes, it is easy to forget they are not human.

This had the unfortunate side effect of, unintentionally, see more than one situation through a human filter, so to speak.

Such as, for example, their durability.

Because when Bulkead ran through the groundbridge carrying Bee's body, with Arcee running next to him carrying Bee's head, every human present in the base froze.

Jack's eyes were wide open, face growing pale.

Miko, in contrast, was looking almost green. Hands clasping her mouth, either to stop herself from sobbing or puking. Tears were streaming down her face.

June, although horrified, was focusing solely on keeping Raf in place.

Raf was the worst. As soon as he saw Bee, he started screaming.

June was doing her best to try and comfort the kid while keeping him from running to his friend's body. Hugging him against her chest to keep him from looking at the horrible visage.

Agent Fowler was grim, fists and teeth clenched. When Cliffjumper died, he was the one who dealt with the horrible bureaucracy of asking the bots about proper protocol. About post-mortem condecoration, about burial rites, about tradition and wishes.

Now, at least he knew the proper way to proceed, which boils down to let the bots do as they please with their dead and keep any nosy superior out of their business.

Then Ratchet spoke.

"Finally. Bulkhead, drop him in a berth, and bring me the second crate of spares. Arcee, bring the head here. I want to start running diagnostics before- Bulkhead! The second crate! I'll have to repair most ports on Bumblebee's neck, f not replace them outright."

June was the first human to speak.

"What do you mean 'repair' his ports?"

Bumblebee's head had been cut off. Surely there's no repairing that, right?

Ratchet rolled his optics (once again, such human-like gestures) at the question, barely paying any mind to the humans as he worked on Bumblebee's head.

"What, you expected me to just shove his head in place and wrape tape around it? Sorry to disappoint, but reattaching a head is a bit more complicated than-"

"Bee's alive?"

Raf's voice was awful. Voice cracking and filled with such fragile, fragile hope.

Ratchet's eyes widened (so human-like) in surprise before his entire demeanor changed.

He carefully and gently picked up Raf to bring him closer to his workstation.

"Of course he's alive. Here, look. Although his neck was severely damaged, his processors, his brain module, are unscathed. The sudden lost of power caused them to crash, which is why I'm running diagnostics through his software."

Raf, small, young, terrified, and brilliant Raf, was quickly putting the information together.

"So it's like, it's like a computer that got unplugged without being properly turned off first?"

It was obvious Ratchet was not happy being compared to such inferior, human technology. But he held any complaints to himself.

"Yeah, something like that, kid. As I said, I have to check every port in his neck to make sure they won't overload his processors once I reconnect them. Not to mention, all vital components on a cybertronian body not only receive power from the spark and energon processing, but they also store a small portion of it. Like an internal battery. Bumblebee's brain could be kept powered off for years without any side effects, other than some minor lag once reactivated. Not that his repairs will take nearly that long. I'll have Bumblebee back online in a couple of days, a week at most."

Raf was sniffing, wiping his face with his sleeves. "Can, can I help?" His voice was still scratchy.

Ratchet huffed, trying really hard to sound annoyed.

"Why not. Might as well have a second pair of optics double-checking the code. Maybe you'll even learn something."

Yeah, the Autobots were not human.

But they sure acted human-like often enough.

[thicctails]

curious about Bill's relationships with the twins in gbc

Bill is the twins' very reluctant, pissy, shithead older brother. At first, his ass is NOT conversing with them, because he's butthurt and jealous that he has to share his parents now that he knows they're alive, and he certainly doesn't consider them family (more like bothersome strays his parents picked up), but he's also smart enough to not hurt/torment them.

Eventually, though, Dipper and Mabel start to claw back his walls and nestle their way into his heart-equivalent organ, like the preteen parasites they are.

Individual twin stuff below!

Dipper: 🌲❔⭐

He likes picking on Dipper more, because the kid is easy to rile up, what with his anxiety and embarassing crush on Wendy. Bill looks at Dipper and sees a smaller, sweatier Sixer, complete with his own (and in Bill's opinion, better) abnormality.

However, where Ford was selfish and willing to give Bill everything and anything for answers, soaking up praise like a sponge, Dipper is far less susceptible to Bill's bullshit, and will actually give him sass. Bill gave Stan a nightmare once early on, and Dipper got so mad that he pulled out Bill's full, legal name and cursed him out in Euclydiean. He's seen Scalene's drawings of Bill as a baby in his comically large shoes, and thus is not at all afraid of him.

Bill, a creature that lives in the NIGHTMARE REALM, is wholly unused to this. It's weird and different, but it's not... Bad. As they get closer, Bill finds that Dipper is more than just the awkward potential puppet that he initially thought he was. He's got a good moral compass, yes, but it wavers now and then, and Pinetree is more than willing to do mean, vindictive things with Bill if someone crosses his family.

While Mabel got her Unicorn adventure with Bill as her first big bonding moment, Dipper's comes when he gets knocked unconscious during his encounter with Gideon's robot. Bill appears to Dipper and offers to wake him up and help him save Mabel, if Dipper is willing to let him possess his body. Now, Bill knows he's desperate, and could have easily added the condition that he gets to keep Dipper's body, or simply just not held up his end of the deal, but he doesn't. When Dipper awakes, he's bruised and sore, and his knuckles are covered in drying blood, but he is himself, and Mabel is safe, grinning at him as she grapples them down to the ground.

After that, Bill starts to casually hang around a lot more, usually by possessing Gompers or one of Mabel's stuffed animals. When Dipper starts to dress up again, Bill makes him a set of star earrings. Now, they are made out of teeth, but it's dragon teeth this time!

Mabel: 🌠💓💥

Bill bonds with Mabel much faster, because it's easier for him to relate to her! Mabel is flashy, chaotic, and unapologetic, and Bill loves that! Usually, humans are very predictable and have boring Dreamscapes, but not Mabel. She changes gears faster than a Mantis shrimp punches, and her antics are way more amusing than anything Ford did.

He 100% enables her crazy plans. She wants to set off fireworks for Waddle and Gompers' wedding? Stan keeps the good stuff under his bed. She's making Dipper a special jug of Mabel Juice? Here kid, have some Smile Dip Ultra! (See you in the astral plane, Pinetree!) Cops are trying to send you to Washington for uncovering a government secret? RUN THEM OVER WITH A CAR!

...okay she doesn't listen on that last one, but you get the idea.

His absolute favorite moment with her was watching her punch Celestabellebethabelle's snout until it looked like a gnome threw up on it. He, at that time, was busy suffocating a Satyr with his plushie Unicorn form, but he was sure to give her plenty of praise.

He was surprised at the warm, fuzzy feeling that bloomed when she grinned at him, rainbow blood splattered on her cheek. Hmm. Had he eaten something recently and not chewed it enough? Maybe he was getting sick or something equally stupid. Surely he was not experiencing... Emotions. Ew.

Mabel bedazzles his bowtie for him. She is the only being aside from his parents who have touched his accessories and lived.

[mobbu-min]

☆ bragging rights ☆

(ft the first years)

a/n I couldn't find the request where they wanted the first years, but here it is! Ortho is strictly platonic!

tw cursing

want more? eat up bestie! ☆,☆

Ace + Grim <3

⋆ Grim’s like, ‘No. Please, Great Sevens, no…’ He wants anyone but him. Grim wouldn’t mind if it was one of the Leech Brothers, or hell even, that weird ass bowl cut kid that tried to light everything on fire. Just anyone but Ace! He can’t! Just imagining Ace’s cocky ass grin sends Grim into a fit of rage. Really considers all his life decisions.

⋆ Ehm, can you please speak a little louder? Ace didn’t hear that. Ace squeals like a high school girl who just got asked to prom. Considers this his greatest accomplishment tbh. You’re the hottest thing since sliced bread and Ace is the super cool, incredibly good looking super mage. Like it’s a no brainer. A match made in heaven. Of course you’re going to be bragging about him. Who wouldn’t? (please, never stop. Ace literally cried tears of joy)

Deuce + Grim <3

⋆ Honestly, Grim’s okay with this one. Sure Deuce is a little airheaded, but Grim likes him a lot more than Ace! (that’s a lie, he loves both of them equally, just too stubborn to admit it) And he knows that Deuce will treat you right. Though, Grim doesn't know much more arguing he can take from the flustered idiot one and jealous idiot two. 

⋆ So so happy. He calls his mom immediately after, (i mean, he’s been calling his mom about you since the day you met) Deuce has really tried to be better, to be the type of guy that you wouldn’t hesitate to call yours and knowing that he made it makes him want to explode (in a good way ofc) He wants to cry, jump up and down, take you by your waist and give you a big ol’ smooch. There’s so many things he wants to do, so many things he wants to make you feel, because Deuce is so in love it’s embarrassing really. (Ace gags while also mourning the fact that it’s not him, jealous bastard)

Jack + Grim <3

⋆ Grim is a little on the fence about this one. Jacks a great guy, don’t get him wrong, but Grim doesn’t want to spend his mornings, afternoons and nights working out. Well, on second thought, the image of Grim sporting a rocking six pack kinda gets him to rethink….No, no…he does not want to give up his tuna! Jack will have to pry his box of tuna from his cold dead paws before he lets that happen. 

⋆ His tail does a little waggy once he hears you bragging. Like how can he not? He already talks about you a whole bunch. I mean if you count him always going ‘C’mon, even the prefect could do better!’ or ‘you might be even more airheaded then the Prefect…” then yeah, Jack’s doing a lot of bragging. He’s loyal by heart, but also emotionally constipated, so you’re going to have to look for the hidden meanings behind his brash words. Because it’s there! You just have to look hard and be patient!

⋆ Or you can just look behind your wolfy friend and stare at that ass- I mean, that tail! Yeah, tail! Because it’s betraying how he feels. So thank you tail! (and thank that ass, because it’s thiccc!)

Epel + Grim <3

⋆ Grim is honestly okay with this one. Epel and him are on good terms. So it doesn’t bother him all that much. Really there's nothing else to say other than, Grim is just happy that you’re happy.

⋆ YEEHAW BITCHES!!!!!HE WINS!!!!! Epel is alive and dying at the same time. He’s calling his meemaw, peepaw and all that jazz, because guess what? He’s not bitchless anymore! Yes! Take that Vil, you pompous jerk! And you too Rook, you frenchie! And most importantly, fuck you Ace! He beat you and now you look like a fool! HAHDHHAHA

⋆ Okay, but after Epel gets over his high, he’s face down on his apple plushies practically crying because he’s so happy. 

Ortho + Grim <3

⋆ Second son? SECOND SON? NAH! GRIM’S IS YOUR ONLY SON! He literally gets so offended that you're talking about Ortho more than him. Every little ounce of affection or praise directed towards you little robotic buddy is greeted with an irritated huff and eye roll from Grim. Like did you forget that Grim’s been with you since forever? Grim truly see’s Ortho as a rival/threat, because unlike the other boys who you continuously thrist over, you’re so sweet and kind to Ortho and treat him like he was your kid/brother. It really gets Grim’s gears going. He just wants you to know that he is not above fighting a child, robotic or not, he’s going down.

⋆ Oh, Ortho’s over the moon. The person he sees as a second sibling loves him so much! It makes him so happy. Literally, he thinks he’s dreaming (can he dream?). And omg, this just fuels Ortho to get Idia to confess to you, so you’re all like an actual family. You and Idia can be the parents and Ortho and Grim can be your kids! Ortho has already taken to treating Grim like a little brother, constantly patting his head and giving him treats (which does soothes Grim’s dislike to him by a lot, at this point you think Grim likes Ortho more than you) Ortho does ask if you four could all take a christmas photo together (or whatever the equivalent to christmas is in their world) and he sends it to every one of his friends with really fancy blue and pink glitter gel pen font that says ‘From the Shrouds!’. Sure he knows you aren’t actually a family yet, but he’s sure he can do a little convincing and bam! The wedding is bound to happen! 

Please just do as he says! Let this boy be happy T0T

Sebek + Grim <3

⋆ There’s dead silence from Grim. Like you do realize that you have no insurance right? How the heck are you supposed to pay for hearing aids for the both of you? He doesn’t get it. What’s the appeal? Did you hit your head that hard? Grim’s judging and he’s judging hard. But overall, Grim surprisingly feels bad. All he can think of is that one lyric you scream out every now then by that Rana le Del, um… What was it again? The Other Woman~ and that’s you. He just shakes his head because he knows you can do better. 

⋆ Sebek is a blushing mess. He’s on two ends of the spectrum, one being incredibly smug and two, wanting to scream the ears off anyone in the ten mile radius of him. There is no inbetween because he’s not a chill guy. When Sebek wants something he puts 110 percent into it. And that's what he does for you. You know what name becomes a frequent occurrence in his vocabulary? Yeah, it’s your name. There’s not a sentence that he says that does include you and Malleus in it. Yeah, he is making and joining every club that there is about you and yes, that is a shrine dedicated to you right next to his Malleus shrine. And no, you cannot stop him. 

[hopeymchope]

The Weird Story of Mahjong Ronpa

NOTE: I already announced that the Riichi City "Majong Ronpa" crossover with Danganronpa went live this past Monday, so here's that original post. Importantly, it also contains some of the story setup information!

I don't know what I expected when I learned that the latest Danganronpa collaboration contains a storyline, but it definitely WASN'T what we got.

Pretty early on, Kyoko manages to suss out that they've actually traveled to another goddamn world. Which Naegi accepts pretty readily! And I can't fault her logic, of course, but this still seems like a pretty huge leap for a crossover between two games that DON'T contain any such far-out fantasy/sci-fi elements. (I acknowledge that DR's later installments would introduce entire virtual worlds and robots... but still?)

If anyone playing Riichi City wasn't already familiar with the first Danganronpa game? This little in-game story sure doesn't shy away from spoiling who the mastermind is. But okay; I guess she's something of an icon by now, particularly among fans of Japanese media (i.e. weebs), so that's probably not THAT big a deal. Still surprising to me, though!

I mentioned this in that aforementioned earlier post, but it's pretty wild that (A) Naegi and Kirigiri clearly have already experienced the events of DR1 — they eventually even recall the mastermind reveal at the end. Yet somehow (B) Junko and Celestia are here, alive. I guess you could argue that maybe they were pulled from the other reality BEFORE Junko died, but... Celes?

Earlier this year, I played Blue Archive for a short while JUST to experience the "A Certain Scientific Railgun" crossover event. (And if you're wondering... why yes, I did only learn how to play Mahjong in order to experience Mahjong Ronpa. :P) I've been through some crossover event stories in Magia Record, too. All those crossovers left me with certain expectations as to how these things go: The visiting characters inevitably have to return to their own time/place/reality at the end, often having their memories of the crossover wiped in the process. NOT SO FOR MAHJONG RONPA!

Check it:

The story/locked-room event ends with Junko fucking ninja-vanishing into a puff of smoke, which sure seems to bode VERY poorly for this world's future.

Celestia apparently goes off to become a powerful new player in the mahjong-obsessed reality of Riichi City.

Ultimately, Naegi is triumphant in the locked-room Mahjong challenge/mystery. He and Kirigri walk down Riichi Street together as he prepares to take his victory prize in the mahjong tournament — a unique "Mahjong Codex" guide/manual that contains special advice/techniques regarding the game — and expose its contents to everyone in this new world.

So they just... live here now???

Hey, at least it's a semi-happy result for this weird incarnation of Naegi, Kirgiri, and Ludenberg/Yasuhiro. Consider it an "alternate ending" for the characters, if you like.

[thewertsearch]

GA: Either Im Sleeping Or Im Dead Which Is It […] AA: you are unconscious now and will likely wake up as your new self very soon […] AA: you are undergoing a metamorphosis which you have been groomed for since you were very young

By who, though? Doc Scratch? Grubmom? The Alternian government, even?

And was Kanaya turned into a vampire, or was she born with the potential to become one? Metamorphosis seems to imply the former, but it's still very unclear.

AA: much like i was for my various personal iterations including this one GA: You Mean GA: Being A Ghost And Then A Frog And Then A Robot And Then A Fairy AA: yes!

Aradia likens this transformation to her own adventures as a ghost, robot and fairy, but all of those changes have mechanisms that we understand, whereas Kanaya's is a mystery. If it's anything like Aradia's ghost form, maybe necromancy was involved?

And, again - who's the culprit? If this was something that was imposed on Kanaya externally, rather than an inherent trait, then Scratch feels like the most likely meddler. If so, her vampirism was designed to benefit him - but what could his angle be?

What effect has Kanaya's vampirism even had, so far? What has she caused to happen, that wouldn't otherwise have happened?

All she's really done is bisect Eridan... whilst sparing the Veil's real problem, Gamzee. Well, he is the Most Important Character In Homestuck, so Scratch can probably make use of him.

But... I really don't like that line of thinking. It implies that Kanaya spared Gamzee at Scratch's bequest, knowingly or unknowingly, and the thought of Kanaya serving Scratch is too terrible to contemplate. Let's put it aside for now.

TA: 0k s0 i'm supp0sed t0 act 0ut what i did bef0re, when i br0ught her these shitty d0ll parts, is that's what's g0ing 0n here? GA: Yeah Im Still Not Sure Aradia Are We Supposed To Be Role Playing

And you didn’t even wait for Nepeta.

Actually, that's a good point - where is Nepeta? Is she sitting in some other bubble, berating Equius over how he died?

TA: thith ith kinb 0f thtupib. AA: youre stupid and you sound stupid! TA: h0py thith, i b0 th0unb thtupib. TA: why the fuckth ith by b0uth fthull 0f all thethe theeth subbenly?

Ah, hang on - Nepeta's not actually dead yet.

Sollux's tooth issues are congruent with page 3429, immediately before Equius is commanded to Seek The Highb100d. Plus, Kanaya's still down, and she was up and about by Seek. The Meowrails yet live - and Eridan's still alive, too, but I doubt his ghost would show his sorry face regardless.

It’s funny how the Furthest Ring, a space which is supposed to be temporally untethered, is correlated so closely with the sequence of events on the Veil.

[muzzlemouths]

Part 1 of a oneshot based on @juicyyyboxxx's Valentine's Day art because it's lived in my head for months. so if this breaks your heart you have them to blame 💕

WC: 1400

The rejection is familiar. It bites like teeth on flesh, a deep and aching bruise, unseen, it offers no catharsis without the bitter taste of crimson beneath. Circuits sting and spark under plates of cold metal and a heart that tick tick ticks to a pre-programmed pulse. Alive by electric veins, each breath is painfully artificial. That's why they always leave, isn't it?

How silly it is to think this time might be different. Yes, silly, that’s what they always tell him. What a silly robot, with silly little feelings he himself doesn’t understand and a silly heart that goes 01100010 01100101 01100001 01110100 (beat) 01100010 01100101 01100001 01110100 (beat) 01100010 01100101 01100001 01110100 (beat).

He is exhausted by its rhythm. Disheartened each time a scraped knee leaks oil and not blood. It didn’t use to be this way, of course. This dysphoria of sorts is recent — a development which stems from not one rejection, not two, but a number that can’t be contained when counting on both hands. He is made to watch, not to keep. The children come and go. Their parents, too. His coworkers find him endearing, charming, amusing, silly silly silly silly silly.

But not worth staying for.

He tries writing letters, assuming (hoping) that it is his voice or maybe his face which scares them away. Maybe he can’t find the right words, and his hesitance is too ugly to bear. Maybe it’s a matter of not saying the right things, or not saying enough of them. Writing it down will fix this, he thinks, and so he gets to work.

The first letter isn’t good. No, no, it isn’t good at all. He tries it again. This one isn’t much better. That’s okay! He has plenty of paper, see, and all the time in the world to get this right.

Time swims through scribbled ink, his hours punctuated with each shake of his head and the crunching of paper, forced into a ball and tossed over the shoulder to be discarded at a later time. It’s terribly messy and goes against his very coding, but then again, so does this beating heart of his. So do these feelings.

It’s a bug, he thinks. A sickness. There must be something wrong with him, surely. He can’t think of another reason for this madness. There are butterflies where his wires ought to be, a warmth in his chest that no amount of fans can reckon with. He feels so strongly about this. About you. And this time, the letter is perfect.

It has to be.

If it results in that familiar sting once more, well, he doesn’t think he will have the strength to try again.

He spots your orange sneakers from across the room and makes towards them like a bee, high on hope, catching you by your name just as you reach the exit doors. Your heel turns to question him, and your smile is thin. Polite. You want to clock out and be home, already.

The paper in Sun’s hands is folded neatly, basic printer white. The adhesive of a red heart sticker keeps the letter in place. His fingers tap-tap-tap against it for one anxious minute before he works up the courage to hand it over.

“Seeing as it’s Valentine’s Day, a-and everything,” he sputters, “I thought– well, why don’t you just give it a look?”

For all the opinions Moon had to share over the hours that the letter was being written, he is decidedly quiet now, of all times, when his voice and companionship is arguably needed most. There is a shared stillness to the room that is perfect as much as it is daunting as the letter is extended.

His gears tense like a held breath when you raise an eyebrow in his direction. You take it with the patience one might expect from any other retail worker; which is to say, too much. Your breezy attitude has him fidgeting with twice the enthusiasm, and the reasoning behind his restlessness is lost on you.

A confession lies between folded paper, unbeknownst to you, ready to be heard if you will humor him and listen. Your eyes return to the letter with an inquisitive hum.

Taking little care in preserving it, you break his heart.

Sun watches on with quiet resolve as the sticker is ripped in two, and the paper unfolded. He dares not move or utter a word as your eyes look over the small poem written in crayola purple. Short and sweet, with the intention of making his feelings for you known without it becoming too cheesy, he thinks it gets the job done well enough. His best letter yet! This assumption is further bolstered when your mouth upturns into a lopsided smile, but he can’t quite read your face.

Then comes the laughter.

Short, curt, a quick exhale through your nostrils more than anything else, as though he’s just told a joke that you found particularly–

“Oh, Sun…”

The letter is returned to him with that same humoring expression on your face, and it is here where he realizes that the look in your eyes isn’t returned affection at all. It’s pity.

“This is very sweet,” you insist, nudging the paper forward a second time when he doesn’t immediately take it back, “but it’s not like that between us, right? I mean, we’re friends, but…you didn’t seriously think this would work out, did you?” Another laugh, and this one stings. “Don’t be silly.”

There is an echo of understanding between his code. Your words don’t offer him the kindness of sinking in slow, rather, they cascade through his audio processors like a slap to the face, one after the other.

There it is again. Silly, silly, silly. Yes, indeed, how silly it was of him to think he could ever be anything more than a hunk of metal in human clothes, pretending to be something he’s not. At the end of it all, it’s not his face, or his voice, or the words he is too scared to say. It’s him. Silly, silly him.

And he is not something that can be fixed with crayon words and sticker hearts.

“…Sun?”

“Of course!” He abruptly straightens with a vocal tick of metal on metal, swiping the letter from your hands as if it burned you. “Of course I wasn’t being serious,” he continues, “it was a joke — a joke! You know me, silly ol’ Sunny. Just thought I’d give you a laugh before you went home for the night, is all!”

Printer paper white folds neatly over shaking hands. You might have questioned it were you not in so much of a hurry to get home, but as it stands you have more important things to get to, and a subtle tremor isn’t too out of the ordinary for the animatronic, anyway. Old wires, if you had to guess. The company really ought to get that fixed.

“Good one,” you say, a third and final laugh spilling between your grimace. “Well, I should get out of here. Thanks for helping out today.” Your eyes flicker towards the exit, then back, again, to where he waits like a statue, unmoving and with that same ever-constant expression staring back. “See you tomorrow?”

Something clicks and buffers in his voicebox as he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, a thousand responses readying themselves between the silence, questions he’s never dared to ask. How is any of this fair? Is it in vain, all these hours and days and years spent toiling with words that go no where, and feelings he isn’t allowed to have? To run his circuits ragged chasing after a heart he can’t keep? Am I better off alone, he wonders.

“See you tomorrow!” He says instead.

You can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt rising in your chest as the door clicks shut behind you. He sounded so genuine, you might have actually believed it if he were in any way built to host those kinds of emotions. You assume that he’s just mimicking them, instead. Putting on a show like he used to do before the daycare became his new objective. And yet, the idea of an animatronic truly feeling anything in the way of love makes you smile just a little as you head for the parking lot.

“…What a silly robot.”