#no self preservation no braincells

[sylleblosscm]

Tonight we're thinking about that scene in Dawn where Luna's been effectively daemonified and Noct is trying to get through to her. She keeps trying to murder him and his only thought is "man, she's gonna hurt herself 🥺"

“Luna!” he shouted. “Can’t you see it’s me?!” He’d managed to grab the spear’s haft with one hand, gripping it tight. He needed to get the weapon away from her, before she got hurt. But a mere moment after he’d laid his hand on the weapon, the world inverted before his eyes and his back slammed against the ground. He groaned in a mix of pain and disbelief. Somehow, she’d been able to lift and throw Noctis down effortlessly, in a show of overwhelming strength. “Please . . . Luna, you have to snap out of it,” he pleaded, rising from the floor and approaching her again.

[lets-try-some-writing]

With your sparkling AU how is miko like with two dads bulkhead and wheeljack world they spoil her and teach her to be a wrecker?

Oh boy. Here I go destroying my request order again for the sake of the plot. Sorry all yall who are waiting on answers, the sparkling au comes first.

Wreckers Stick Together

Bulkhead and Wheeljack were momentarily disappointed in the frame that the relic had gifted Miko, but they swiftly came to adore it due to how energetic it made her. However after the whole relic debacle and the numerous incidents the sparklings managed to get into, the wrecker duo were hesitant to act rashly.

They took their time slowly worming their way into Optimus's good graces again. And then once the Prime seemed satisfied with their behavior, they at last asked to be given the roles of secondary caretakers for Miko. Thankfully for them, Optimus did not hesitate to grant their wish and even blessed their chosen role. Although looking at the Prime made it pretty obvious that his main reason for giving them the role was because he was exhausted. Still, it didn't deter Bulkhead and Wheeljack.

Miko was their little wrecker when she was human, and she was still one of them now that she was Cybertronian. As such they went full on parental/fun uncle mode with her, taking all the time they had available to play with her and teach her. But as Miko had several more serious caretakers, the wrecker duo didn't feel all that bad when they deviated from teaching more mature topics and instead spoiled the little flier rotten.

Every excuse to give her things was taken. It became habit for Miko to always have good things happen every time she went to hang out with Wheeljack or Bulkhead. Sometimes it was just an energon goodie, other times it was a fun toy, and in odd instances she was even gifted weaponry and items that probably shouldn't be in the servos of a sparkling a vorn and a half old. Bulkhead objected to these particular gifts and took up a slightly more maternal role for Miko to contrast Wheeljack who went full paternal when it came to his little wrecker.

Their shared role of secondary caretaker created a fun dynamic between the trio when they were together. Wheeljack was the one to suggest absurd ideas and Bulkhead was the one to shoot the dangerous ones down and make the others safer for Miko to engage in. At one point Wheeljack tied Miko to a string and left her to hang from the rafters in an experiment designed to see if it would get her to stop jumping off things. Bulkhead did not object to the logic behind the plan, and wanting to help ease the burden on Optimus, just put some mattresses underneath Miko in case she fell. Miko loved being strung up for approximately half an hour before she grew irritated and started to scream. And so not wanting Optimus to know, the wrecker duo tried to get her down before anyone else would notice... only for Wheeljack to pull a cable, rendering him unable to climb up to the rafters to get Miko down.

It didn't take long for Miko's shrill screams, Bulkhead's frantic pacing as he tried to find a way to get her down, and Wheeljack's groans of pain to summon the team to their location. The very first thing that occurred in light of the rest of the team seeing Miko hung from the rafters like a piñata was for both Ratchet and Ultra Magnus to smack the wreckers responsible. Arcee then clambered into the rafters and got Miko down just in time for both Starscream (who had turned up randomly) and Optimus to berate Bulkhead and Wheeljack who looked like kicked puppies all throughout.

Starscream: You absolute IMBECILES! What in Primus's name made you think THIS *gestures to the string and a crying Miko* Was a good idea?!

Wheeljack: ...It was for science...

Starscream: iT wAs FoR sCiEncE!

Bulkhead: We are sorry, we didn't mean for her to get stuck.

Optimus: *soothing Miko* I am sure you had good intentions, but from now on you will have someone watch you while my sparkling is in your care until further notice.

Safe to say Bulkhead became even more of a nanny in response and Ultra Magnus may or may not have spent the next few weeks glaring at the duo whenever Miko was with them just because. But Ultra Magnus has never stopped a determined set of wreckers from doing anything. And so soon enough they got Miko into even more trouble.

In an effort to teach Miko what it means to be a wrecker, Wheeljack in his infinite brilliance thought it would be a grand idea to take her out on patrol with him and Bulkhead. The more maternal wrecker was unaware of the fact that his partner had Miko in his internal carrying compartment until halfway through patrol, when Wheeljack looked around and just popped Miko out like it was no big deal. Bulkhead's first response was to die a little inside and then panic. After all the slag the team had gone through constantly losing the sparklings to one threat or another only to get them back meant that the team would likely be going nuts back at base. But despite Bulkhead's best attempts to explain how this was a very very bad idea, Wheeljack carried on and began talking to and directing Miko as he would a new recruit.

Bulkhead tried to be a diplomat, but it took an additional hour for him to get a response from base. And by that point Wheeljack had already gone through several firing drills with Miko and had her begin some basic training exercises all while he preached wrecker values. Miko didn't perform all that well, but she put in effort and showed great enthusiasm for the activity, much to Wheeljack's delight. Bulkhead got in on it eventually while he waited for the team to response, prepping targets for Miko to shoot and mother henning the situation as a whole.

Wheeljack: *pointing toward a rock with a smiley face drawn on it* See bitlet, that's the bad guy you gotta kill.

Miko: *waving her blaster* Kill!

Bulkhead: Easy on the blaster! She's going to shoot her own optic out!

Wheeljack: Now what you want to do is aim for the helm and blast him to bits. You'll know you did good if he goes kaboom!

Bulkhead: Jackie, stop! She's only a vorn and a half old!

Miko: Kaboom!

Wheeljack: *proud as pit* That's right bitlet. Kaboom.

But as should be expected, the moment the team turned up, they were frantic. Optimus was nearly feral as he threw himself at the wreckers and snatched his sparkling away with a possessive snarl. Ratchet and Ultra Magnus immedietly beat both the wrecker's afts with wrenches and well placed hits to tender protofrom, leaving Bulkhead and Wheeljack twitching on the floor. They were dragged back to base and put in stasis cuffs as punishment for a day or so and then were denied sparklingsitting rights for nearly a month.

Of course this didn't stop Wheeljack from passing Miko candy underhandedly like contraband drugs or Bulkhead from giving her a good-recharge kiss quietly every night. And even once their ban wore off and they were denied rights to taking her anywhere, they still took time to play with her and teach her. Miko loved watching Wheeljack fight against pretend foes and she greatly enjoyed Bulkhead singing and dancing with her.

Miko was their little wrecker. And while neither may have been the best at handling sparklings, they loved her dearly and would gladly go to war in her defense.

[pendulumstarway]

Meet Blythe Denton, an Ancient Gear user set in the 5D's universe. He's a shady, sly man who relies on fear tactics and manipulation to survive in the slums.

Backstory stuff under cut!

Content warnings:

Motorcycle accident

Loss of limbs

Eye trauma

Attempted murder?

Not the most detailed or fleshed out, but for what I do have:

Blythe was born in Satellite, and ended up becoming one of its many orphaned children. Less because of his parents died, more because they abandoned him due to financial reasoning. Blythe ends up staying at an orphanage for a good portion of his life. Once he's a teenager, he starts dealing in shady business and makes some money by smuggling in high-demand high-priced items. It's a dog eat dog world out there, he has to do what he has to do.

Eventually Blythe got all buddy-buddy with a guy from Sector Security, ended up getting some really high-priced and rare items smuggled into Satellite. They were decently close friends, 'til his buddy went MIA for a week. Turns out his cop friend ratted him out due to pressure. He backstabbed Blythe and tried to be a coward and run off, not wanting to face the consequences. Absolutely infuriated, Blythe tracked down and chased his ex-friend on his motorcycle, ready to beat him down.

They duel and other sector security gang up on him. Blythe's d-wheel is slammed against a wall and spins out, sending him flying off violently. His arm gets mangled by his own machine and becomes unsalvageable. Blythes helmet is destroyed, and the impact breaks the right side of his face. He's transported to a hospital in Neo Domino, his arm is amputated, and he needs surgery and stitches in various places. Alongisde that, his left leg is rendered permanently injured from said accident, and Blythe lost his right eye.

After he's stable, Blythe's arrested and thrown into jail. He get his first marker, which is the tear-streak line under his right eye. [Not including the broken line marker.] His buddies have to gather up everything to pay his bail, and he's taken back to Satellite.

Wracked with anger and grief, Blythe dedicates himself to seeking revenge. With nothing but his mouth and his other working arm, he manages to build himself a working prosthetic, and then a fully functional cybernetic eye. Since his leg didn't need amputation, and therefore cannot be replaced by a cybernetic device, Blythe designs himself a sword-cane. It's a great way to defend himself, while also accommodating his chronic injury. He ends becoming part of a mafia/hitman situation, since that's the only other way he can think of making proper money- and acting out his revenge. He's got people to pay back and take care of anyways.

Until the reformation of Neo Domino and Satellite, Blythe takes the lives of anyone, really. Money's money, and he's making a decent living off of it. Once full access is open to Neo Domino, he's given his biggest job. Yusei Fudo.

This happens Pre-WRGP, before Bruno's arrival/addition. Assuming it's another team wanting the win, Blythe's initially hesitant, but with the sum offered he'd be able to move from Satellite and maybe even quit this gig altogether.

Unfortunately with the rest of Team 5D's present, Blythe's caught, and gets the snot beat out of him. He's given another chance to finish the job, and fails miserably once more. It's argued he did so on purpose, but nobody can be sure. In a twisted manner, he ends up becoming a contact of the teams. He's got connections in the shadows, and he proves to be useful.

Although, he does camp out to hide from authorities, and steal the teams snacks. Much to their dismay.

[lotusmonkey]

[thisblogtofur]

I had to.

@dmanix

Let this man end me.

[mushroom-for-art]

This is what I think of while I'm at work, multiverse brain stuff featuring the wonderful perfect holdable smoochable loveable surrender all my possessions to Fidget (And Ivy is mentioned and also all those things), belonging to @blues-sues, hope you enjoy my bullshit

Loopholes!!! I will finds them!!

"Welcome to the dreaded brain world, full of mystery, horror, romance and mostly just horrid angst and being rotated for 5 hours at a time, ha!" Matt threw his hands about posing in emphasis to his words before throwing his hands up and lightly slapping the other Mewtwo, an individual of dark purples, on the back which caused them to jolt slightly forward in surprise with casual disregard for personal space.

Fidget spun round in a panic, eyeing up the other Mewtwo, "you shouldn't touch me!" His voice filled with an awareness of his danger to others as his eyes frantically scanned over the red individual waiting for their state to rapidly deteriorate with purple and rot. Matt held his hands up in surrender casually floating back but still hanging close as his feet found the floor again.

"Sorry! Not the touchy type then? Shoulda known that was on me," with a hand he rubbed the back of his neck, "sorry again." Fidget watched his brows coming together in confusion.

"I…." he hesitated unsure what words he needed, "I'm, poisonous, how, are you fine?" Despite knowing better he leant his upper body closer to the red individual, "are you, immune?" He tried to not let the hope creep into his voice. Matt blinked at him with wide slightly vacantly stupid eyes.

"Huh, you are?" Matt looked at him and made a noise, "that, does explain the purple, but uh if you're poisonous then," he glanced at the hand which slapped Fidgets back before snorting, dumbfound, "OH! Yea!" He snorted again in laughter looking back at Fidget, grabbing his elbow he pulled off his arm and after a few seconds the psychic illusion dropped revealing a prosthetic, "not my real hand!" He grinned wrinkling his snout, "neithers the other it's just psychic energy." He chuckled again as Fidget stared at him bewildered.

"Aren't you, worried about handling that? It might have my poison on it still?" Fidget watched the prosthetic flop as Matt twisted it about making a sound.

"Oh yea..guess it could. I'll just stick it in the washing machine or something." He grinned again as Fidget blinked, 'washing machine???' he puzzled.

"That isn't going in the washing machine you numpty or the dishwasher it's not machine safe!" a different voice yelled from elsewhere aimed at Matt as Fidget glanced brows furrowed in deep confusion as Matt made a noise sticking his tongue out in the general direction of the voice though Fidget couldn't see anybody yet.

"Bugger, guess I gotta wash this by hand then, with a wet wipe or somethin'," with a casual shrug he went to reattach his arm only for a new individual of deep gray blues to grab the prosthetic at the connection port and steal it flying off with it casually.

"No you're not, I'll be needing that thank you," her voice was casual, cool and mocking as she shot off with the prosthetic as Matt stood looking baffled before promptly yelling, "HEY!" After the Mewtwo who has already disappeared. Fidget swallowed uncomfortably hoping to not know what they wanted with his poison.

Matt threw his remaining psychic hand in the air as what was left of his other arm raised in emphasis to join before both his shoulders dropped down with his psychic hand bumping his side, "unbelievable, can you believe that," Matt moved to point with his stub pausing and motioning with his psychic arm pointing after the other Mewtwo, "honest, leaving me armless like that." Fidget could only provide an awkward smile looking at Matt in pure confusion while occasionally glancing at the psychic false arm seeing it shimmer and sway with energy.

Fidget jumped a flinch ducking his head down and taking a step back at the giant Mewtwo that seemed to appear besides him, a towering 9 foot maybe more he wasn't sure, sporting darker colors than standard and a fluffed tail.

"What's all the commotion over here, some of us are busy, Matthew." The tall individual didn't regard Fidget watching Matt who cringed with his tongue out at the using of that name.

"Darkness stole my prosthetic which I kinda need to like do things and interact with my new buddy here," moving with casual abandon he wrapped his psychic arm around Fidgets shoulders without pulling him too close, his psychic energy was warm on Fidgets shoulders and felt wobbly ripples of overconfident aura warmed Fidget through the contact, "he's poisonous so kinda need like arm that's not gonna absorb poisons," Matt shrugged at the taller two followed by looking back at Fidget, "no offense." Matt offered a smile in apology as Fidget awkwardly shrugged since he wasn't wrong.

With an awkward vocalization of distress and confusion purple psychic energy lifted and moved Matt to the side, "and any less consideration with your mobility would've resulted in your friends shoulder into your chest plate and a hefty poisoning no doubt, your lack of spatial awareness is, something alright." The tall one casually swayed his hand to the side as he removed the weird warmth of Matts psychic from Fidgets shoulders as Fidget once more swallowed having not realized how close he was to potentially hurting his friend.

"And why don't you simply create a psychic barrier over yourself if you're so worried about poisoning?" The tall one finally regarded Fidget looking at him with a steely level gaze, "observe," the tall Mewtwo raised a hand and Fidget leant back.

"I - I wouldn't really! My poison is really really bad it'd be quite serious if-!" The hand touched his forehead and he froze, much like Matts psychic arm there was an odd sensation the touch was both cool and warm, he could sense a barrier of sorts preventing direct skin on skin, but unlike gloves and other protective measures it didn't feel rough or squeak as a thumb idly moved rubbing casually above his brow below his horns. The psychic energy was more stable and didn't wobble the same way Matts did and it almost assured Fidget with the level of confidence and strength behind it, the aura was cool but not freezing as the psychic energy faintly warmed like a cool gel that warmed with body temperature.

Blinking and slowly lifting his gaze upwards the tall one was glancing over at Matt still slightly levitating for psychic energy as though scruffed, "You see? A simple barrier is all you need."

"Ohhh…like a psychic condom for your fingers."

The hand moved from Fidgets forehead to accusingly point at Matt, "you unspeak that from existence right now you horrid wretched waste of breath and space." Fidget frowned at the loss of touch and the harsh tone of the taller two but noticed Matt simply beamed at him with his tail wagging behind him, clearly proud of himself for causing such a reaction.

The hand unconsciously returned to Fidgets forehead palm resting on the top of his head as he blinked and quietly allowed and enjoyed the sensation of touch.

"That's all well and good but not all of us are as gifted as you are Axel, some of us are a bit shit.," Matt shrugged within his scruff as the tall one Axel exhaled a deep sigh rubbing his temple with his spare hand.

"Yes I'm aware of how much my genes have deteriorated and what has unfortunately arisen from that." Fidget quietly wondered if he should even still be there but the gently touch on his head was still there and still nice but he had the self control and awareness not to shove into the touch less Axel pay attention to him again.

From the sky the prosthetic fell and hit Matt on the head causing him to wince with an oof before clumsily catching it with his psychic hand and gasping realizing the hand had hit his head.

"Stop panicking doofus I cleaned the poison and any residual poison off its sterile won't kill ya unless I beat you to death with it," the dark mewtwo from before glided past casually, "Hi Fidget, bye Fidget." he blinked awkwardly wondering how she knew his name as she passed. "having fun there grandpappy?" Her mouth turned into a taunting grin before she was once more gone flying off. Axel watched after her confused before realizing his hand was still situated on Fidgets head. He slowly lifted his touch with a faint huff like exhale turning his head away.

"As I demonstrated, no poisoning, but I suppose you'll just have to make do with your false parts." Axel turned, his feet leaving the ground as he floated away as Matt was dropped after reattaching his arm.

"Yea thanks for that! I'll remember your weird advice when I get powers, come back whenever you're ready to admit you actually want interaction with your own kind rather than denying it and thinking yourself better!" Matt hollered after the large mewtwo who either didn't hear or chose to ignore him.

Wandering back over to Fidgets side his prosthetic hand pat his shoulder, "sorry about all that, crazy family crazy situations and stuff, happens all the time here." Fidget nodded memorizing how the prosthetic fingers articulated and felt against his skin, cooler now that he took note of it and not as defined as usual mewtwo hands missing the ball like finger ends, but the way they wrapped around his shoulder and offered a light squeeze was unusually pleasant and welcome.

"Yes it's quite strange here… but.. I guess I might enjoy it. Especially if I find my sister." Fidget nodded to himself, while enjoying the attention he missed Ivy and hoped she was okay.

"Well, let's go look yea? She'll be here somewhere, probably being rotated." Matt grinned walking ahead before stopping and offering out his hand, with a moment of cautious hesitation Fidget sighed and took the hand to go with.

"She isn't actually being rotated is she?" He asked as he floated along keeping steady pace with Matts walking, not at all reassured by his shrug.

"Dunno! Maybe? We'll see!" Fidget raised a confused brow but floated along, not minding how the fingers squeezed his hand feeling them growing warm with contact.

[moonndust]

what am i doing with my life

[guinevereslancelot]

not me forgetting i switched shifts with a coworker and showing up an hour early for work ✌️😌

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seongji Yuk x Reader: Treats

G/N. Meeting Seongji for the first time.

"Your teeth are gonna fall out."

The monster of the mountain looks at you, face blank though eyes amused, tanghulu hanging from his mouth.

You've seen him enough times to know there's not much monstrous about him, apart from his overwhelming sweet tooth.

Rumours of this monster were grossly exaggerated.

Maybe you should have had more self preservation than to wander the mountainside when such tales persist. Yet when you found out the monster was a mere man, a mere boy close to your age, who seemed to have a penchant for sugary, syrup covered fruit-

You realised the only thing to fear was cavities and tooth decay.

Still. It helps to have someone with such a reputation on your side, you decide, as you toss over a pack of fruit gummies.

A hand shoots out and swiftly catches it.

(Six. You swore you saw six fingers on that hand.)

"Thought you might like these," you shrug as he gives you an odd look, "See ya!"

.

.

After the fifth pack of candies you threw at him, the guilt sets in.

You make your way through now familiar half hidden paths, searching for the monster.

He's there. Sitting in front of his giant wok, surrounded by freshly made tanghulu. Scents of sugar and caramel fill the air.

"You're here again," The words are spoken so quietly you almost missed them. His voice is softer than you expected.

"I bought you more things," you hold out a small plastic bag. He gives you the same look each time. 

"Open it," you encourage, shoving it more forcefully in his direction.

With little trust - which is somewhat unfair, you think, considering all the treats he has received from you - he takes the bag.

(Six. You know you saw six fingers on that hand.)

He opens it, peers in, face clouded with caution. Then-

Eyebrows shooting into his hairline, eyes widening almost comically, mouth forming an 'o'-

The tension breaks and he chuckles.

"It's one thing if all the tanghulu you eat rots your teeth, that's your own fault," You rub the back of your head self-consciously as he pulls out more fruit candies, as well as a new toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash one after the other. "But if it's because of me then..."

"You're strange," he says, staring at you like you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out.

His words have no bite.

.

.

"Seongji Yuk," he eventually provides his name with reluctance. In exchange, you provide the rest of the banchan and rice to accompany his homemade kimchi.

(Your single braincell stopped functioning the first time you realised he does in fact eat something besides sugar.

It's endearing, this supposed 'monster' making his own tanghulu, making his own kimchi.

You kept comparing his recipe with your own before eventually he asked you to leave out of exasperation.)

"Well Seongji, your kimchi needs more saeujeot," It's not bad, it's just missing something.

"You don't have to eat it," he grumbles, swallowing down an extra big mouthful.

.

.

"So..."  You stall, elongating the word, letting it drift into the night. You don't really know Seongji well, hell you don't know him at all. Maybe it would be intrusive to ask.

You hear a rustling beside you. "So what?"

"So… you live on this mountain?"

"I do."

"Huh." You gaze out at the stars. It's a pretty peaceful existence, or it would be if not for Cheonliang. "On your own?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever get lonely?"

A beat. Then - "No."

Oh.

You turn to him and see his face blank but eyes amused. Messy hair and high cheekbones highlighted by the fire.

"Well I can visit you if I get lonely then."

There's a huff of laughter. Seongji knows he can't stop you anyway. He turns back toward the vast inky sky. Takes in the scattered stars. Feels the heat from the flames, a heat that settles into his cheeks.

A smile dances on his lips when he tells you "Okay."

[bluegiragi]

okay, first of all, absolutely goddamn feral about you, your art, writing, ideas and aus i am chewing on the bars of my cage and foaming at the mouth and screeching incoherent and rolling around on the floor and- ough... anyway

i do have a very self indulgent question, particularly about Monster AU Ghost and Price, but also extending towards the rest of 141 with their involvement

at one point you mentioned that wraiths were rare, and ghost would likely feel pity towards another one

what would happen if they did come across another wraith? especially someone fairly fresh, maybe even young, younger than any of them. is there anything anyone could do to help them? would they help? price seems to know how to handle ghost well enough, and seems like hes been around since ghost's transformation, but how would ghost himself handle seeing someone else go through something like what he did? if he had to, what advice would he give them that he never got?

just been rotting in my brain 😭 ily gira and i hope youre taking care of yourself, thank you so much for the work you put in and share with us 🥺💕

this!! is!! such a good question, anon!!!! I think there's a lot of sides to that kind of situation, especially if it’s a younger person since I hc Ghost as having a massive soft spot for kids.

lots of writing under the cut!!! my braincells were FEASTING.

I think if it was just Ghost and the newly-born wraith, he'd try to mercy-kill it. The circumstances that lead to the creation of a wraith are truly harrowing, and while Simon understands the desire for revenge that burns at the core of every freshly made wraith, he also believes their plight is a kind of torture. In his mind, it would be kind to put one out of their misery. He wouldn't take any pleasure in it - I think overall, it would be a miserable affair for all parties involved.

If Price or any of the others were around, I think they’d try to convince him to take them under his wing so to speak. But while Ghost currently operates decently with his support system, he’s extremely lucky and should be considered the exception to the trend. Price was instrumental in his recovery - years of working under him solidified Price in his subconscious as an authority figure he could trust. When Ghost lost control, he could still rely on instinct - even with his mind fracturing, Price never changed. But not everyone has this kind of person immediately available to them, and it was crucial that Price got to him as soon as he did. What Ghost is now is not what a wraith commonly looks like. Price dragged him back from a brink.

New wraiths are sort of like rabid dogs, with no sense of self preservation. They’d approach every confrontation with the kind of frenzy you’d see in someone fighting for their life. They’d also be basically impossible to immobilize - you’ve seen how Simon goes wispy at times, imagine trying to handcuff a cloud of smoke. If it came down to a situation where any of the 141 were in danger, Ghost wouldn’t hold back. He’d put the other wraith down.

But if Ghost met another wraith who’d survived that first explosion of fury and managed to calm down, AND the 141 were with him, I think he’d try to help. They bring out the best in him.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Kuai Liang: what’s your type?

Bi-Han watching you from afar as you and Tomas utilise your one braincell in getting a kitten off of the window ledge: a reckless idiot with no self preservation skills.

[pianokantzart]

Mario just spent most of the last scene getting his ass handed to him and only narrowly won the fight because he got ahold of a really good powerup. But the moment DK starts egging him on Mario hands off the ice pack and goes in for round two, fists raised and not a powerup in sight. One braincell. Zero self preservation skills. I love him.

[tenchikotheartist]

Frick it, we ball

KISMET HEADCANNONS for some future fan stuff I wanna make... Goes with this post kinda

Under a cut because it's LONG (the fixation has been REAL)

Gen

They band was formed shortly after the events of Trolls 1. It's the only way they make sense in my mind's timeline.

Branch was trying to get more involved with Troll village without relying on Poppy to connect him with people. He formed his own group of friends, and they became Kismet after realizing how much they enjoyed harmonizing/performing together.

These guys give me frat boy energy for some reason. They just collectively become more chaotic when they're around each other. Yes, even Branch. He and Hype play hot potato with the braincell because otherwise, nothing would get done in this group.

As they got to know one another, teasing one another became their primary love language. Lots of jabs and quips will fly among them when they're together, but they each know it's all in good fun.

Branch

Branch kept his involvement in the band a secret because, well...y'know. He has complicated history with being in a boyband, so he wanted to explore his feelings about Kismet without being bombarded with input from people outside the group.

He's fond of his friends and genuinely enjoys being a part of the band though! He just wants to be sure he's a part of this boy band because he's happy being with them and not because he's trying to recapture something he'd lost 20 years ago.

At first, the others were (understandably) hurt by Branch's desire to keep his place in the band a secret, but after he explained his reasons, they were willing to support him.

They were absolutely thrilled when he finally becomes open about the band though!

During the secrecy period, when he performs in Pop Village, he hides his identity behind a disguise that somehow works (Branch, every time it works: "wtf????"), and he goes by a stage name.

Hype

Officially the group leader, but he's more of a mediator than anything. He relies on the rest of the group to give their input for any big band decisions, but he coordinates band meetings, schedules gigs, and works out compromises if there's any group conflicts.

He and Branch had been childhood friends before The Incident(s) estranged them. Back in the Troll Tree, they'd been neighbors whose parents (Branch's grandma; Hype's mom) set up on frequent playdates, so they'd been really close.

They reconnected after the events of movie 1, Hype introduced Branch to Trickee and later Boom. Trickee brought in Ablaze and the rest was history.

Hype is a social butterly but he's otherwise one of the more calm personalities in the group. He feeds off of other people's energy and is a bit of a people-pleaser. Luckily, he's pretty good at finding the right crowd to run with, otherwise he'd probably land in so much trouble.

Boom

Hype's cousin, and a big party person! Before the band took off, he DJ'd at a party venue in Pop Village. That same place was also where Kismet got their first gig!

He loves loud music and flashy parties where he can shine on the dance floor and make memories people he may only know for a night.

Peak ADHD Energy™. He's a chatterbox. He has no volume control. He tunnel visions so hard, he becomes that B99 headphones meme. The man has cool guy syndrome, no doubt about it!

For the creation of the Band earliest albums, Boom took charge as the producer. He loves messing with music, mixing and remixing sounds on his free time and experimenting with the genre.

Trickee

A thrill-seeking menace to society. He's adventurous and loves taking huge risks for the adrenaline rush. He's the type of guy who would go down a waterfall in a barrel or ski down a dangerous mountain just to see if he survives it.

Everyone in the band is in agreement about protecting Trickee from his own shenanigans. They are 70% of his self-preservation senses.

He also loves a party scene and can often be found with Boom leading the charge towards any good time.

You know that sense of dread before performing in front of a crowd? The way your belly flips and your heart races and you're sure you're shaking hard enough for everyone to see? Trickee lives for that shit when he's in the band. The jitters can get to him, for sure, but afterwards, the man is LIVING from coming out alive on the other side, and he's sharing that thrill with everyone else in the band!

Ablaze

A Rock Troll who has lived among the Pop Trolls since he was a teenager. He stumbled across them while looking for a place to belong, and despite what he was raised to believe about Pop Trolls, he came to love their warmth and friendliness. So he moved in and let everyone assume he was just an odd-looking Pop Troll.

He an Trickee are housemates (podmates?)--not for romantic reasons but because they're longtime friends. When Trickee moved out of his family's home, Ablaze invited him over, and they liked the living arrangement enough to keep it permanent.

At first, Ablaze isn't open about his identity as a Rock Troll, but as he grew closer with the other members of Kismet, he came out to them. By the events of Trolls 2, he's open about being a Rock Troll.

Ablaze's personality sits somewhere in the realm of both chaotic and laid back. On the outside, he's usually pretty chill, but if Boom or Trickee have trouble afoot, Ablaze is usually there egging them on in the background, much to Branch's dismay.

He becomes extremely energetic when he's performing. The more exciting the song, the more vibrant he becomes! The energy is one of the reasons he loves pop music so much, but he can also get hyped from performing rock music. He gets kinda intense though lmao.

The first time the rest of Kismet sees him jamming to rock, they're like "OH. He's definitely a rock troll O_O" They support their rock-n-roll brethren 🤟😔

He has a special interest in fire, particularly fireworks. Back in Pop Village, he even made a business of it, making small rockets, sparklers, and other celebratory items for all your Pop party needs.

Anyway that's all the headcannon stuff I'll share for now. Hope y'all liked reading xD I'm really hoping my attention span will stick around long enough for me to share more in the future, because this fixation has been A Time™/pos

[h3ytheredemons]

“What makes Daniel fascinating?”

Daniel has zero self-preservation instincts but an immense will to live. He’s got a single braincell but it’s running at nuclear RPMs at all times. When he grows up, the only difference is that he’s developed a sub-program to run spite and sarcasm at inhuman speed. He was essentially designed in a lab to annoy immortals in the precise way to verbally torment them, but not incur death.

[moralesmilesanhour]

okay okay, i have had this one thought in my head about a platonic gender-neutral (or male/masc-leaning) reader fic. this is for either miles (more so 42 than 1610 bc i can imagine his face of exasperation). imagine just being his dumbass friend, like yeah your smart enough to be in visions, but goddamn!! you leave your braincells in your school locker once the final bell rings. your self preservation instincts are questionable at best and the only reason you're not dead yet bc you're proving that quote "you can't kill stupid" as a true fact. at least you bring homemade food over everytime you visit his home and his mom likes you, so you're not completely hopeless in life. (i've had this rotating in my brain for days and still haven't written it myself) -☁

a/n: I went the masc route with this one with a sprinkle of gender envy if u squint

You thought doing homework on a rooftop would be a nice change of scenery.

Dangling off of the rooftop? Not so much.

A tiny group of pigeons had been hanging out near the edge, and you had the idea to try and feed them with the bag of sunflower seeds you'd brought with you. Carefully, you step forward toward the flock, until some unknown force of nature causes you to trip over your own feet and sends you careening over the edge.

Somehow, you manage to grab hold of the railing of the fire escape just below, but your palms are sweaty. You heave as you use all of your upper body strength to hold yourself up while desperately trying not to look down.

It's not enough.

Just as you lose your grip, a strong arm catches you. It's covered in purple leather, ending in a familiar clawed hand.

"Again?" Asks an amused modulated voice as wind rushes past your ears.

"You make it sound like a daily occurrence."

You feel a jolt as the masked figure swings and lands in front of an alleyway before putting you down. As you adjust your crooked glasses, the mask whirs and splits in two before receding, revealing the smirking, deep brown face of your friend, Miles.

"What happened this time?"

His voice is low and nearly too soft to hear, a stark contrast to the tinny high pitch of your own. No amount of lowering your larynx or whispering could ever get it like that. Part of you wishes you could steal it sometimes, or borrow his voice modulator, at least.

If only.

"Tripped," you answer, rubbing your upper arm as a side effect of the claws' tight grip. "Dunno how you always manage to catch me."

"Easy," Miles explains as he unzips his black duffel bag. "I see that ratty ass gray hoodie you always got on and swing right over."

With a whir and a clank, he removes the claw on his right hand, then his left, tossing them into the bag.

"How does carryin' those around like that not damage them?" you blurt out suddenly. Miles snorts.

"You gonna fix 'em for me, genius?"

"No."

"Thought so."

Finally, he removed the grappling hook strapped to his back and tied his jacket around his waist.

You say his catchphrase before he does: "Let's bounce!"

This earns you a burst of laughter from Miles as you make your way out of the alley.

"What, I say it wrong?"

"No, it's just..." he catches his breath and claps you on the shoulder as he passes by. "You make it sound so friendly."

"Whatever, man."

-

"Yo, pay attention, dude!"

You feel Miles' hand yank you backwards by your hoodie as a car horn blares past you. Once you look up from your phone, your eyes widen.

"Oh, shit."

The car had barely missed you.

The streetlight across from you finally turned white, and the two of you crossed. Miles keeps glancing back at you until the short journey to the opposite sidewalk is completed.

He stops, crossing his arms. "How many times are you gonna almost-die today? Lemme know so I can adjust my schedule."

"Until someone finally finishes the job," you joke before remembering something. "Ah fuck, I hope the brownies survived."

You swing your book bag off of your shoulder and kneel to open it, revealing a small Tupperware container filled with home-made brownies stacked on top of your textbooks. Thankfully, there is only a bit of chocolate smudged on the sides; the pastries themselves remain (mostly) intact.

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You know taking the textbooks home is optional, right?"

Zipping your bag closed, you reply with a shrug,"I like re-writing my notes. I need to access the source material."

"I need to access the source material," Miles mimics you in a nasally voice before strolling past you. "If I were a worse person, I'd shove yo' ass in a locker."

You laugh, breaking into a jog to catch up to him with your 'source material' weighing you down.

"Just for that, I'm telling your mom the brownies are just for her-shit!"

A piece of cracked and lifted cement trips you up and scuffs your sneakers. Your hands shoot out to break your fall, planting themselves onto the ground. Your glasses aren't so lucky.

"Aw, man, I just got these!" You frowned as you dusted off your khaki shorts with one hand, holding your glasses in the other.

One of the frames now has a crack right down the middle.

"That's tough, buddy," Miles remarks.

He had spun around as soon as he heard you yell in case of another near-death experience, but was now trying desperately to hold back laughter that escaped through his nose as he walked backwards towards his destination.

"It's not funny!"

"It's a little funny. You're like a Looney Tunes character."

You laugh, "If an anvil falls on my head, it's your fault."

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday!!!! I love your blog so much, this is my first time making it to the asks!

Dealer’s choice!!

He waits two weeks and five days, which is seventeen days longer than he thinks is necessary.

However, it’s how long it takes for the Cuban couple to be discharged. He’s not sure if this is the time to indulge in symmetry or ritual when it’s never done him much good before, but he supposes he’s trying something new.

Cuddy is still furious at him over firing Chase. Wilson isn’t much better, oscillating between pity and disappointment, which is just obnoxious. The new guitar is at least a decent distraction. The downside is he has to actually spend most of his days in the clinic to avoid taking another case, which he doesn’t want to do just yet.

Symmetry and ritual and all that.

The day after the couple is gone, he sleeps in then drives his bike in the opposite direction of the hospital.

He has to hit his cane on the door for over a minute before it flies open and Chase is standing there, hair sleep mussed and mouth pulled into a scowl. “What do you want, House?”

It’s too soon to smile, so he doesn’t. “Is Cameron here? I assume she is, otherwise I’ll have to come back later which would be a huge pain. Why do you live downtown? The traffic is awful.”

“If you’re looking for Cameron, go to her apartment,” Chase says, moving to shut the door in his face.

They grow up so fast.

He shoves his cane in the door because he’s not willing to risk his foot and Chase glares at it like he’s seriously considering trying to snap it with the door anyway. “I didn’t say I was looking for Cameron. I asked if she was here. How much have you been drinking? You can’t be losing braincells that quickly.”

Chase’s expression turns considering, which almost makes him smile again.

The door is flung wide open and Cameron is standing there, hair greasy and wearing one of Chase’s button ups over a pair of leggings and glaring at him like he’s something on the bottom of her shoe. “Go away, House. You’ve done enough.”

“Good,” he says. “Have you eaten yet?”

Cameron’s eyes narrow. Chase asks, “Why?”

“There’s a half decent restaurant about a mile from here. We could get breakfast,” he says, still refusing to smile, but now it’s out of self preservation. If they slam the door in his face, he can play it off as a joke. Or he can start stalking them.

Playing it off as a joke is the safe option. The socially acceptable one.

But he’d foregone the safe option when he’d fired Chase.

“I’m not coming back,” Cameron says firmly, lifting her chin in challenge.

“I don’t want you to come back,” he says. It’s true in the way she means, at least. “So, breakfast? It’s the most important meal of the day.”

“It’s noon,” she says coldly.

“Lunch, then,” he amends. “My treat, considering you’re both unemployed. A bit careless of you, to leave one job without having another lined up, but such are the mistakes of youth.”

Maybe other people can get things and people and relationship with honey rather than vinegar. His personal experience has leaned more towards catching each one by the wings and shoving it in the jar himself. His metaphorical jar has airholes, so he doesn’t get what everyone is always so upset about.

Cameron is still glaring but Chase has relaxed. Cameron may have wanted to understand him, had tried to study him and make sense of him, but Chase had always been better at it. A life of a shit father and being a huge kiss ass has given him selectively useful skills. Chase says, “Brunch. I want pancakes.”

“Chase!” Cameron shouts at the same time as House says, “Cool.”

“I’ll drive,” he says, nudging Cameron out the door even as he leans further into the apartment to grab his keys. “You would have made a stronger argument if you’d brought the corvette instead of your bike.”

“Well,” he says, finally letting a smile tug across his face. Cameron stares. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to agree for the wrong reasons.”

~

Cameron thinks she has to be asleep. This can’t be real.

But they’re sitting in a booth in an old school diner that still smells faintly of cigarette smoke, which gives her some indication of how long it’s been in business, and House is stretched out in the opposite seat, leaning his back against the wall and with his legs crossed in front of him.

“Aren’t you going to look at the menu?” she asks as Chase flips through the multiple pages, House looks at the ceiling, and she looks at him.

“Nope,” he answers.

“Are you going to tell us what we’re doing here?” she presses.

He turns to look at her, eyebrow raised. “We’re getting brunch.”

There’s nothing heavy at the table, but she could probably do some damage with the fork. It’s not like he can run very far.

The waitress comes back, settling coffees in front of all of them. Chase orders chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, and eggs. House gets the steak omelet, which the sign they’d passed on the way in had proclaimed was this week’s special. She still hasn’t looked at the menu so she says, “You order for me.”

House rolls his eyes. “The little lady will have one slice of the stuffed French toast, scrambled egg whites, and the fruit cup. No grapes.”

She wouldn’t have ordered the stuffed French toast for herself, but she does want it. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to read into that.

The waitress says, “Aw, introducing the new boyfriend to your father? That’s so sweet.”

Chase freezes while Cameron feels her mouth drop open and she tries to say something but finds she can only get out a strangled, “Ah.”

“Kids sure do grow up fast,” House says, his disconcertingly normal smile of before having stretched into a much more familiar smarmy grin. He at least waits for the waitress to leave before asking, “Tell me, Cameron, have you ever gotten urge to call me daddy?”

“Oh my god,” she breathes, “why would she-”

“You both look like children outside of suits and lab coats,” he says. “Or maybe I just look especially old today. Or maybe she clocked our ages perfectly and just thought I had you young.”

“Please stop talking,” she says. The French toast suddenly doesn’t sound so appetizing.

He shrugs, stirring sugar into his coffee before lifting the mug up to take a sip.

The red mug. That she’s definitely seen before.

“Is that – your mugs in the office,” she says.

“I steal one every time I’m here. Don’t worry, I tip well.” He taps his fingers along the side. “If you want to be helpful, steal yours for me too. Wilson always refuses because he’s a wimp. He got caught once and she didn’t even care.”

This has to be a dream. House has brought them to a place that he goes frequently, with Wilson, and has revealed a personal detail about himself. It may just be where he gets his favorite mugs for the office but it’s more than he’s ever offered up willingly before.

“What do you want?” she asks.

He takes another long sip of his coffee, once again staring straight ahead. She thinks the real reason he’s stretched out like that isn’t because of his leg or comfort but so his default position is looking away from them. “There’s an open position in surgery under Thomas. He’s an insufferable ass, but luckily you have experience in that area.”

She’d asked the question but he’s obviously talking to Chase. He swallows and she can feel him tense along her side. She hates this. “You want me to apply?”

“There’s a senior research position in immunology at St. Sebastian’s. They’re doing a lot of cool stuff,” he continues, not answering Chase but now speaking to her. “I’d go for that one. However, Williams is looking to retire, which means his position is open. It sounds like an utter bore to me, but you’d probably like it.”

“Williams, the emergency room department head?” she demands incredulously.

“Keep in mind I’m only bringing it up because I’d prefer you both stay at Princeton. It’s a shit job,” he answers. “The research one is way better.”

“You want me to apply for the surgeon position?” Chase repeats.

“Don’t be stupid,” House says and Chase’s grinds his teeth together. “I want you to accept the surgeon position. Thomas will offer it to you outright in about,” he checks his watch, “eight days.”

Cameron has never found House to make sense, but this is taking it to a new level. “If you’re feeling guilty about firing Chase–”

“I’m not feeling guilty,” he interrupts. “When have you ever known me to feel guilty for doing the right thing?”

“Doing the right thing makes you miserable,” she retorts.

He smiles again, small enough that she thinks it might be genuine. “Only sometimes. This will probably make me miserable too, though. I hate hiring people. They’re all so stupid. A benefit to you two sticking around the hospital is that I can go and bug you when your replacements’ idiocy threatens to kill someone.”

“Or your stubbornness,” she says.

“Tomayto, tomahto,” he replies. “There are also a couple open positions in Chicago that you’d like, but that makes me intention to leech off you significantly harder.”

Chase sits up a little straighter. “Why would you tell us about jobs that you don’t want us to take?”

“You’re not my employees anymore. I can’t make you do the smart thing. You’re free to be idiots, if that’s what you want,” he says.

Cameron doesn’t want to press on this particular bruise, but she’s missing something. “Why did you fire Chase?”

She’d asked that before but this time she thinks she might get a real answer out of him.

“So you’d make a choice,” he says, then nods to Chase, “You’re welcome.”

Chase blinks several times. “What?”

He groans, “Are you going to make me spell it out?” Neither of them say anything and he sighs. “Chase loves me too much to ever leave me so of course I had to fire him. Plus it pushed you to make a choice – me or him. If you’d never had to pick, even if you started dating Chase, he’d always feel like your second choice. Because he would be. But now he knows he’s your first. So, again, you’re welcome.”

She’s actually speechless so she’s relieved when Chase asks, “Why would you care about that? Why do you care at all? Even if you do care, why do this? You hate change.”

“True,” he acknowledges. “Which is why I didn’t do anything when your contracts ran out. But Foreman quit. Change was happening whether I liked it or not so there’s no reason to prolong the process. Better to get all the change out at once so I can get back to a life of no changes.”

“Why isn’t Foreman here?” Cameron challenges. “Why did you come get us and not him?”

That makes him go silent again, but she and Chase have years of experience waiting him out. He’s still looking at them, but he’s not seeing them, his eyes going unfocused like he’s thinking through a case. “Wood ducks, unlike the majority of their genus, make nests in trees.”

She’d always been convinced that one day House’s stupid metaphors would make sense to her. Mostly they just give her a headache.

“They also have a habit of flinging themselves out of the nest with very little concern for the consequences of those actions. That’s because the mother duck builds the nest high enough to keep it from predators but low enough that they’ll be unharmed by the impact of the nice cushy ground, so this propensity for leaping first and looking never wasn’t bred out of them by evolution. Of course, humans mess that up, and now lots of places have hard concrete instead of soft ground. So now the duck’s ability to survive is based on their ability to fly.”

“So you’re seeing if we can fly?” Chase asks tentatively.

House sighs, taking another sip of his coffee and giving them a faux disappointed look that she’s surprised doesn’t prick her as much as it used to. “You landed on soft ground. It doesn’t matter if you can fly or not.”

“Concrete is accidentally killing a patient who wouldn’t have died otherwise,” she says, sitting up straight. “You kicked us out of the nest because we’d be fine. But you think Foreman is heading for concrete and you don’t know if he’s going to be able to fly or not.”

“Less killing the patient, more the lack of self confidence and self awareness,” he says, “but yeah, close enough.”

“What if he falls?” Chase asks.

House shrugs. “Then, if he lives, back into the nest he goes.”

“And if he flies?” she challenges.

He takes another sip of coffee, but it doesn’t quite hide the smile on his face. “Then we invite him to brunch.”

~

“Are you going to take it?” Cameron asks, resting on top of his chest and digging her chin into his sternum.

It’s not the most comfortable position on his end, but he’s not going to tell her that. “I haven’t been offered it yet.”

She gives him a look and he sighs, which only serves to shove her chin even further into him.

He’s going to take it.

It’s a good job, a great job even, and he’ll be able to really develop his skills as a surgeon. But he’s self aware enough to know that biggest draw is that House wants him to take it. That House didn’t just get sick of him and decide that he was worthless and fine to throw away.

He was trying to help, in the worst, most assholish way possible.

“Do you think we can actually be friends?” he asks instead of answering.

Cameron frowns. “He did pay for brunch.”

“He also told you that you were getting the next one since you’d quit instead of being fired,” he reminds her.

Her frown deepens. “He’s friends with Wilson.”

“I don’t think I can handle being Wilson,” he says honestly. He likes House. He really likes the idea of being friends with House. But the only friend House has is sort of insane and has to put up with even more crap than they did as his employees – and he isn’t even getting paid for it.

But it’s different, too. Wilson still gets called an idiot if he’s being an idiot and House will be insane and annoying and all of that, but he can be nice too, when it’s Wilson. He makes an effort for Wilson.

Sort of like he’d made an effort with them, today.

“So we won’t be Wilson,” she says. “We’ll be Chase and Cameron and he’ll be House and maybe that can be something different than it was before.”

Maybe.