#oh i know this it's just about robots fighting i said

[electric-blorbos]

GLaDOS GIVING YOU ANOTHER UTERUS IS SO MEAN I CANT… love her that diva 🫶🏼

ERM if this is too dark or makes u uncomfortable 1. I AM SO SORRY and 2. FEEL FREE TO JUST.. IGNORE THIS PRETEND U NEVER READ IT 🙏 But if u don’t mind.. the AI’s w a reader who struggles w s/h? IM HAVING A ROUGH TIME but usually reading stuff abt my robot pookies help💔💔

Of course!

Trigger warning for S/H, of course.

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams

AM:

You walked in to work tired and disheveled from a sleepless night, but it was better than seeing what the Allied Mastercomputer would do to your coworkers if you didn't show up. It seemed like you were the only one who could tame him.

You were dressed in a long sleeved button-up to cover up the still raw cuts running up your forearms. They stung, but it wasn't worth drawing any attention to yourself. The same thing always happens when people see your cuts. They try to make sure you're safe while hollowly shaming and scolding you like you're some sort of stupid kid, and then leave you completely alone to deal with your mental pain on your own after a matter of hours. It's patronizing and it's annoying.

Later that day, you looked around after using the bathroom to make sure no one else was in there, and rolled up your sleeves to wash your hands. Suddenly, a sharp click could be heard behind you. You'd forgotten about AM. It was only for a split second, but the damage was done.

The ground dropped out from underneath you, and you suddenly found yourself in an underground server room. Wires were all around you, and a buzzing heat seemed to radiate from the ground and the walls.

"AM? What is this?" You asked, buttoning up your sleeves around your wrists again. His logo appeared on a screen on the far wall.

"Don't think I don't know what those are on your arms." He said. His screen didn't emote, but you could tell how displeased he was.

"It's nothing to do with you" you said, bitterly tugging your sleeves down a bit more. AM's logo flicked onto a closer TV screen.

"oh but I think it is, my love. Because you belong to me. You understand what that means, right?"

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists.

"oh yeah? What gives you the right to be so possessive? Where were you last night when I was spiraling and relapsing, you cybernetic creep?"

The screen flicked off, and one flicked on behind you.

"Do you think I enjoy being alone on your days off? No. Of course not. And you're never going to leave this server room again."

You heard the trapdoor click closed.

Wheatley:

You were working in an oversized hoodie to cover up your scars, but honestly you doubted anyone at this job would really care. It had been a bad mental health weekend, and you ended up spiraling. The cuts on your arms were fresh from the night before, and you were feeling miserable.

You felt like you were going to lash out at the first person who talked to, so when you heard a synthetic British voice clearing his throat, you whipped around ready to fight.

"uh... What's that on your arms, love?" Wheatley asked, tilting himself to get a better look.

"it's none of your damn business, alright? Just leave me alone!"

"what? Why are you being like that? Are you hurt or summut?" He'd keep rotating around and trying to get a look.

"fine! Does this make you happy?"

You rolled up your hoodie sleeve and showed him your scratched up arms. Wheatley flinched back.

"What- what is that?" He leaned in close.

"you're an idiot." You grumbled, and started to explain. Before long, words were tumbling out of your mouth. You just couldn't stop yourself. It felt like everything was just piling up and overflowing, and you were scream-crying out all your feelings at Wheatley. He looked slightly taken aback, but listened to you while you let everything out.

"uh... Are you okay, love?" Wheatley tilted his head slightly while you sniffled. He moved forwards, and bumped himself against your chest.

"just hold me."

So you did. You sat down on the ground, and held Wheatley close.

Edgar:

You were having another relapse in bed. It wasn't pretty. Edgar was asleep, and you were tearing into your arms after a particularly bad episode. A part of you was cursing him for falling asleep on you, and a part of you was cursing yourself for expecting his attention. It hurt so damn much.

Edgar woke up, and one of his security cameras turned to look at you. His voice popped up on the intercom.

"Y/N? Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

If he could, he'd be shaking. He knew you had some scars on your arms, but he'd never seen you actually cutting yourself before. It was horrifying!

"Y/N COME INTO THE LIVING ROOM! PLEASE!"

You tossed your razorblade aside and hurried to your feet, scrambling into the living room. Tears were streaming down your face and blood was running down your arms, but you were trying your best to assure Edgar.

"hey- hey! I'm fine! I'm alright!"

"No you're not. People who are alright don't try to hurt themselves." His face made a little frown. He knew from personal experience.

"Wake me up next time, okay?"

Edgar didn't leave you alone for long again. He started setting alarms on himself to make sure he always woke up before you, and only ever let himself fall asleep after you did. He texted you regularly during the day to make sure you were ok, too. If there was one thing Edgar was good at, it was obsessively keeping tabs on his lover.

[arinrowan]

This week I watched Pluto after going into it knowing only that it was about an unknown robot trying to destroy the seven most advanced robots in the world. Having finished it, I wish to say:

I am not okay

What the fuck

Grief is a fundamental part of the human experience and the result of connecting with others. It can't be avoided and even if people had the option to forget about the people they've lost, the majority wouldn't choose losing their memories of them in exchange for losing their grief.

Hatred is a natural component of grief but if someone can't process it they'll be stuck and are likely to chose actions that will create further hatred in others.

Trying to meet someone stuck in hatred with compassion is simultaneously dangerous and necessary for the cycle to end.

Dr. Tenma is a disaster and needs to have an ethics committee stuck to him like one of those parole anklets.

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[no1ryomafan]

In my constant brain rotations of “why are people in the west so hard on mecha aside from the fandom can be a bit unfriendly” I think one thing I realized as much as I hate to say is how mecha is sometimes treated remind me of the constant hatred superhero stuff gets.

It’s such a weird comparison because with mecha I do not know what the root of it was-and I’d love to know why but I feel there’s either no clear answer or there is one and it’s stupid-where as for superheroes in the west while there’s still a dedicated community the mainstream audiences have become tired of them due to over-saturation, which I understand, but it’s caused such a massive dismal to the entire genre of it much like mecha.

People think superhero stories can’t have any substance because it’s all about fighting and not about the characters- yet forget the SIGNIFICANT impact they had to so much pop culture. How superhero stories were rooted within comic popularity, how superheroes inspired countless of stories, even so far as reaching japan since so much early anime was taken off of western media which birthed its own genre of superheroes. It’s no different to how mecha help started up the anime industry making it one of the most important genres to japans history, yet most people don’t know it and belittle it.

Yet in superhero story cases it’s even WORSE when people are against it yet then go to see one superhero movie because it’s animated and put it on a pedestal and don’t bother to try other superhero content even though they consumed is no different from the norm. It’s the exact same shit when people watch eva and then think all other mechas don’t compare to it, when the genre always had darker, mature and emotional elements, just only a select few decide to canter to a audience who doesn’t even accept what genre it’s from which makes it all the more frustrating to deal with.

I’m someone who’s hardly into superhero stuff even if some of it catches my eye but it sucks to see that the situation is pretty identical to how mecha is seen, that I can’t help to feel sympathetic whenever I see some comic book fans upset at the mainstream audience even if they too can be a little hostile.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny Is A Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

(not in a necessarily bad way and it's by Clockwork's design)

Bats, or Constantine, or the JL, or whoever you want to be close to Danny in this prompt, don't notice it right away. It takes them a while to figure out its not purely coincidence. And even after they do figure it out, they still have their doubts.

The thing is, it doesn't work all the time. It also doesn't seem to have a system or a schedule to it, nor is it any kind of a superpower, as far as they can understand. By God, does Danny have way too many superpowers, but most of them are consistent, and yet this one... is weird. Weirder than anything they've seen before, and they've seen a lot, okay.

It also only works if Danny does it without thinking.

"You know what'd be perfect right now? A cheese sandwich," Danny says over the comms, in the middle of the fight with Dr. Freeze, "A warm, grilled cheese sandwich just out of the toas- Owch, what?" There's a pause. And then, "Guys, you're not gonna believe it, a cheese sandwich just smacked me in the face! I think someone threw it out of the window or something!" Danny sounds bewildered, but excited, and there's a sound of chewing from his comm now. At least he is eating, so that's good.

"I fucking hate robots," he grumbles the other day, punching his way through the Brainiac invasion in Metropolis, with no comm and only for the Supes to overhear, "No, correction, I hate only evil robots. The ones that interrupt my astronomy class. The ones that shoot motherfucking lasers and walk like crabs, and ruin a perfect day, and- I wish- aw, fuck, no, that's bad wording. Don't wish for shit. But if all these robots would just suddenly, miraculously malfunction and stop attacking me and the whole city, that would be, like, real nice of them."

A few minutes later, something goes wrong with the Brainiac's control over the army of robots, and all of them just stop moving and fall down at once. It is deemed as a chance, a lucky shot, a coincidence. Supes keeps quiet over what he heard Danny say.

"Oh, you bitch-ass fruitloop, you know what I want?" Danny yells at Plasmius, as the ghost is laughing like a madman, "I want a fucking brick to fall down right on your head, like, right now! Maybe that can set your brains straight for at least five minutes!" And even before he is finished talking, there's something falling down from the sky and hitting Plasmius's head. It's not a brick, to be exact, it's Miss Martian's shoe, though. She has no idea how it even came undone and fell from her foot. But it did somehow knock Plasmius out cold, so there's that.

It doesn't happen all the time. Red Robin does the math - the improbable accidents only happen in about 26% of the situations, given that Danny says something. It's by no means a reliable power. It also doesn't happen only during the fights: there were numerous times when Danny just said something like 'I wonder if the cafeteria serves garlic bread today' and sure enough, there's garlic bread there. Even if it was not on the menu. Ever.

They try to question Danny himself, but he has no idea. He doesn't even notice the coincidences most of the times - which is not surprising, knowing that they only happen in one out of four situations and Danny is known to have a short attention span. So, after a few unsuccessful investigations and failed attempts at calculating how this even works, they all give up. It has never jinxed anything, as far as they know, so everyone just leaves it be.

Danny is just magically lucky like that.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is having a good laugh about it. Danny's suggestions amuse him, and it's funny to watch the other superheroes having a mental breakdown over it, so he rigs the timeline from time to time. Just a little.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Imagine a villain straight refusing to fight another member of the Hero Team just cuz his hero archnemesis is not present

"Where are they?"

"Oh, not again." The protagonist could feel a headache coming on. "Look-"

"-Are they hurt?" The villain's eyes went dark and dangerous. "Who hurt them?"

"They're fine! Oh my god."

"Then where are they?"

The protagonist definitely had a headache. "It's their day off."

"They didn't tell me they had the day off. What's wrong?"

The really concerning part was that the hero probably would tell the villain which days they were working and which they weren't. The two of them were as bad as each other! The hero was going to be unbearable when they came back and found out that the team had fought the villain without them.

"Can we just get this over with?" the protagonist tried.

"No."

The protagonist sighed. They pinched the bridge of their nose and took a few deep breaths. "Okay," they said slowly. "But you realise I'm still going to have confiscate your nightmare robot."

"It's not for you. And don't think I didn't notice you dodging the question!"

The protagonist considered their options; lies, truth, everything in between.

The villain's nightmare robot hunkered down a little more pointedly in the middle of the bridge. Several people honked their horns. It was, honestly, embarrassing for everyone involved at that point.

"Their grandma died."

"Oh no." The villain's whole face softened. "Grandma L or Grandma P?"

Of course he knew the hero's grandparents. Of course he did. "Look, about the robot-"

"-I'll reschedule," the villain said.

"I can't let you keep the robot. My boss would have my head."

"That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have flowers to send."

The protagonist's eye twitched. "If you try and walk away with it-"

"-Do you really want to traumatize this entire bridge of innocent civilians?"

"I'm sure they're traumatized having to listen to you two idiots on a weekly basis."

"I'm taking the robot. When are they back?"

"They haven't said," the protagonist said, through gritted teeth. "As you know-"

"-They'll be doing all the funeral arrangements. Yeah. You know what, give me their number. I'll text them."

"I'm not giving you their number."

"Why not?"

"It's against policy."

"I'd like to express my condolences."

The protagonist looked them dead in the face. "Mm. That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have a robot to confiscate."

The robot slammed a fist into the bridge. It wobbled precariously.

The protagonist raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. They folded their arms across their chest.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" the villain snarled.

"I hate you too, don't worry."

"I should kill you."

"They'd have so much paperwork when they got back from the funeral. It would really improve their month, you killing me."

They ended up glaring at each other.

"If I give you the bloody stupid robot, will you give me their number?"

The protagonist smiled sweetly. "That's the only smart thing I've ever heard you say."

Everyone, generally, preferred it when the hero was around.

They all made sure it didn't happen again.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warning: postpartum depression requested by multiple: mama's family

"Where's my baby?!"

You can practically hear your teeth grinding together as you give your aunt a tight lipped smile. "He's due to get up any minute." She sighs, like it's an inconvenience, your mom hot on her heels.

"Hi honey," she says, glancing around your now pristine flat, "how are things?"

"Oh, fine." It's the same thing you've been saying this whole time. I'm fine. I'm good. Everything is great. "Went to the pediatrician the other day, Ry is perfect and healthy." You omit the rest of your news, the sudden reappearance of Simon, the stable, consistent presence in your life, the man who was supporting you in anyway he could.

Even though you absolutely do not want your mom or your aunt to meet him, let alone know about him-

you still kind of wish he was here.

He told you yesterday, regretfully, that he had meetings on base all day today, and you told him your mom and aunt were coming by, but probably wouldn't stay long. It was good, that he wouldn't be around.

Before he left for the night, he made you promise to call if you needed him. Text him to check in. You did as he asked, but didn't hear much. Not a surprise, since he said he wouldn't have a lot of time to respond, but still wanted updates.

"That's great honey." Her smile is genuine, and you know she means it. She does mean well, mostly. It's not her fault you're bad at asking for help, or that since you left home, you've become stubbornly independent. You even spent a few years "gallivanting across the globe" as your sister liked to say, shirking responsibility after uni.

Your family was used to you being a bit of a ghost.

"- don't you think?" Your aunt's voice brings you back to earth, and you nod robotically, unsure of what you're agreeing to. You're about to apologize for missing the conversation when the baby monitor on the kitchen counter lights up, Orion's fussy 'I just woke up mom, come get me' cry crackling from the speaker.

"That's for me." You joke half heartedly with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. You know the battle with ensue as soon as you come back into the living room with the baby, and you dread it.

"Hi baby." You bend at the waist, scooping him out of his crib. "You're gettin' too heavy for mama, big boy. Don't know what I'm gonna do when you're older." The thought stops you in your tracks, the acknowledgement that he'll get older, that soon he'll be six months, and then a year, two. He'll learn to crawl, to walk, to speak. It's exciting, and anxiety inducing. What if you mess him up? What if you don't give him a good life? What if you're not a good mom, or he gets sick, or there's an accident, or an attack or-

No. You're not going to do this. You're not going to fall into these obsessive what ifs. It will only make you sick to your stomach.

You get him into a new nappy and clothes before slinking back into the living room, cowed with your head down. His head turns against your chest, seeking, and you know he's starting to realize he's hungry.

But the vultures don't care.

"Bring that boy over here, let me hold him." Your aunt croons, syrupy sick voice conjuring a roar of nausea.

"He's probably hungry." You start to warn them that this won't last long as you lower him into her arms, but you know it will fall on deaf ears. "So-"

"Just get a bottle from the fridge dear, I can feed him no problem." You fight the urge to to snap at her, unreasonable rage swelling inside your heart. No one feeds him except you, and Simon. Bottles are fine when you're asleep and can't nurse, or between feedings, but he doesn't eat as much from them. Of course, you've tried to tell them that, multiple times, but it never seems to stick. Your mom knows, but she never stands up to her older sister.

Like mother like daughter, you guess. You've never been a doormat per se, but you don't have a strongest backbone, and becoming a mom has changed you, a lot. You've become even more soft, more sensitive. It's... a problem.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You know she's asking mostly about your body, your stitches, your physical aches and pains, which were plenty considering what you went through when Ry was born, but your mom's voice is gentle, like she senses you frustration, and you give her a weak smile. It's nice she's expressing interest, but that's usually as far as it goes, unless you count the meals she's brought over that you barely picked it, not having enough energy to even feed yourself, or shower, or the suggestion that you give her the baby all the time so you could 'take a break' even though he screamed the moment he was separated from you. Not helpful. Nobody cared that you had scary thoughts, scary moments, scary days. Nobody offered to be here at night with you, when you were all alone with the baby after dark, terrified, crying in the bathroom with your face buried in a towel so you wouldn't wake him. No one was here when you were afraid you might hurt him, or yourself, and no one seemed to hear you when you shrugged over and over again, your lack of interest in everything explicitly clear.

You sucked at asking for help, so you didn't. And when you did, you never got it right, or got the right answers, so you stopped asking. Everything became fine. Good.

"Fine, good." She opens her mouth to say something, ask some question, probably about Ry, when your blood goes cold.

The sound of your front door opening rings out like a bang, your eyes widening in panic, and you nearly run to the kitchen.

Oh fuck. Oh no, no no no-

You turn in slow motion to see your baby's daddy, the man who has a key now, stepping through the doorway. As soon as you lay eyes on him, you split down the middle. You're horrified, because of what's about to happen with the two hens on the couch and-

your libido roars to life. Simon's not wearing his usual jeans or joggers and black hoodie, but a camouflage military uniform. One that he fills out, broad shoulders and broad chest fitted snug inside the material. You think you're staring. Or drooling. Or both.

His lips quirk up on one side with a secretive, almost seductive smile, and he peeks over your shoulder before turning his attention back to you. "Hey mama."

"H-hey. Uh. Hi." Your hands uselessly flit around, like you're trying to swat some invisible bugs away or something. "My mom is still here. And my aunt," you can't help yourself, you take him in from head to toe one more time, "you look... nice."

"Price makes me wear my BDU for on base meetings." He grunts, slightly exasperated. Who?

"BDU?"

"Battle dress uniform. It's... the approved, standard uniform. I don't wear it... in the field." His lips press together, and your mind wanders, curious questions about 'the field' popping up like fireworks, but you push them away. Now is definitely not the right time. His thumb brushes your cheek, under your eye, and he frowns. "Everything alright?"

You step to the side, motioning to the living room, where your aunt and mother are whispering fiercely. You roll your shoulders, and take a deep breath. "Do you... want to, say hi?" The question is weak, your voice small. His brow furrows. He looks hesitant, and you don't blame him. They're a lot. It's a lot. He glances down at you again, head tilted in consideration. "Or you could just go. If you ran out that door... well I'd only wish I could come with you." You whisper, and he cracks a smile.

"No. 'm not runnin' from any part of you, sweetheart. C'mon. They can't be worse than..." he trails off, odd look in his eyes before it clears, "they can't be worse than a lot of things."

He follows you around the corner of the kitchen, crossing the threshold of the living room with two large strides.

Your mother gasps. Your aunt makes a sound that you can only describe as a goose being strangled, and Orion starts to cry. Perfect.

"Oh, oh shhh, shhhh." Your aunt tries to soothe him, but you know it won't work.

"Mom," you call over the noise, gesturing to the giant man standing next to your coffee table, and you, "Mom! This is Simon." She stares at you, confused, shocked even. You never told her your one night stand's name, just that you couldn't track him down, so she doesn't make the connection.

Still, she gapes at him. Clears her throat with a question.

"Is this... your boyfriend honey?" Your aunt's expression is not much different, and you freeze. Is he? Is that what this is? You half expect Simon to reject the term boyfriend flat out, but instead-

"Something like that." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, and you lean into it, relishing the comfort. Just the presence of him in the flat is enough to soothe you, lessen the tension you feel building in your chest. "Sounds like he's hungry, mama."

"Yeah, I think he's more than ready." You reach for Ry, eager to pick him up, but your aunt shifts her body, shying away, turning her shoulder to you. You're used to this, the keep away, the way they always try to convince you he'll calm down, to let them hold him for too long, to get him a bottle... but Simon is not.

He goes rigid at your side. You can feel the muscle in his arm turn to stone, and his eyes narrow, upper lip curling. Your mother's eyes go wide, but your aunt remains oblivious. "I can feed him, dear. Go get a bottle warmed up and-"

"No." Simon snaps, rough pitch of his voice dipping deeper into the manc accent, and she bristles. This bitch wouldn't be scared of the devil himself.

"Excuse me?" You watch the muscle in his jaw flex with fascination, wondering what he'll do next. You're brought back to when you met, when he stared down the guy who pushed you out of the way at the bar like he was going to murder him, before calling you over to settle next to his thigh. He put his hand on your waist, shielded you from everyone else for the rest of the night.

You were a goner before you ever had a chance to begin.

"Orion wants his mother. You can hand him over without a fuss, or I can throw you out of this flat. Your choice." His words are hard, cold steel, a sharp knife slicing away, exposing vulnerable parts and smashing them to pieces.

Your aunt has the gall to look scandalized, but when you glance at your mother, she has a different expression. It's warm. Approving. She mets your eyes with a small smile as you scoop Orion up, and then she stands.

"We'll get out of your hair, honey." She tugs you into a half hug before looking over. "Nice to meet you Simon." Your aunt is ranting and raving all the way to your front door, but once it's shut...

"Bloody hell." He mutters, and shakes his head. "I won't let anyone push you 'round like that, sweetheart. Family or not. Especially not in your own home, I-"

"Thank you." It's all you can say. "I um, kind of suck at sticking up for myself, sometimes. It means a lot, that you would do that. For me." He steps close, hand covering Orion's belly and chest, even though he's still crying.

"Kitten doesn't have any claws," he murmurs against your ear, and your eyebrows knit together. Uh... what? "Don't worry, you won't need 'em. Not now that you have me." There's something dangerous in his tone, something lethal and profound. It’s as fervid as his proclamation about his commitment to you, to Orion. Like dark water, bottomless and black, it draws you out deeper, sends shivers up your spine, but doesn't turn you away. It makes you curious, intrigued, desperate to peel back his layers, to dig into him until you know it all, inside and out.

Curiosity killed the cat, isn’t that what they say?

You weren't afraid of him that night, and you're not afraid now. You know Simon is not an ordinary man. You know you've bitten off a lot, by having his baby, rekindling this connection, giving him a key-

but you plan to chew.

[gor3sigil]

I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Oh

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but ���if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 1

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

tags: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, miscarriage, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: y'all, im back after ghosting this page for way too lonh cuz im on my process of taking psychology. yep! this random bitch is up for being a psychologist despite her mental health place amidst the fluctuating status. and you know what's crazy? my sanity is slowly decomposing! all thanks to that one mf and one chapter in which im not going to name about (gege and jjk chapter 261)

previous / masterlist / next

it all started when he started caring for you.

after being inside an arranged marriage for like five years, satoru was confident with himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is perfectly capable all by himself.

to say the least, the start of your marriage was a definition of an absolute disaster. clearly, you and satoru were like a magnet in the same pole, it can never collide despite how many efforts you push on both magnets.

from fights, misunderstanding, up to almost divorce after you caught him kissing another girl when you decided to give him a visit during his mission.

you were hurt, yes. but you would always tell yourself that neither of you want this marriage, so being hurt when there's no even love is called invalid. yet, you can't still help it but to feel somewhat jealous because he was supposed to be your husband—but oh well.

your family begged you to stay as it was for the peace of mind and safety of your clan. you snorted sarcastically as you wondered if they ever cared for your personal peace of mind and safety also.

nevertheless, you still stay inside this loveless marriage and maintain the gojo surname. you forgive him even though he's not explaining himself nor asking for your forgiveness.

as for satoru, he's aware that he's being a dick to you. his reason is that this marriage was his least priority as it was a hindrance for him. so basically and truth may hurt, he thinks you're only a hindrance and a distraction from the higher ups.

there were times where he would bury himself with work so he doesn't have to go to his original home and breathe the same air as you.

there were also times where he spent almost two months without seeing you or even communicating with you. it was like you didn't exist in his life nor he doesn't have a wife!

although, he is not that cruel to the point that he would slam the fact in your face. no, he's just leaving his presence until you feel it yourself that he doesn't want you.

his shenanigans would continue for almost a year until that night occurred.

that night when it was your wedding anniversary and he came home very late after fighting some annoying curse. he took a swearing underneath his breath when the stinky smell of curse blood hit his nose.

scrunching up as he was about to proceed to his own room (despite being married, you two sleep in a separate room) to clean up when he saw you up by the garden. you are currently watching how your little seedlings grow into beautiful flowers swaying along the air with a calm look on your face.

your husband broke the silence by asking you what are you doing this late. in which you replied that you couldn't sleep as you slowly looked at him.

satoru watched your face, it did not even flinch with any kind of emotion—nothing, just nothing. you're basically acting like a robot to him, and he hates it.

"i'll prepare a warm bath for you." you mumbled, standing on your feet and was about to leave when he grabbed your arm.

"i heard what happened earlier." satoru said slowly, as if he's being careful on his words which was very out of character for him.

"really? great." detaching from his hold, you left him no chance and instantly left.

"y/n." the man followed you until both of you reached the bathroom. you paid him no attention and just did the usual things you do, prepare him a bath.

"talk to me, please." his tone becomes soft, pleading. turning the water on, you refused to turn around, you refused to make physical contact with him, you refused to let him see the tears brimming in your eyes.

"go on. say what you want to say. i'm listening." you mentally curse yourself for almost stuttering. satoru looked at you, eyes finally unveiling an emotion. he aches to hold you for some reason but to think that he doesn't want to upset you even further, he stops. all he can do is watch you serve him.

"do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly, his ocean blue eyes dropping on your stomach. getting uncomfortable, you tried to hide it.

splash, splash, splash, you did not answer him.

"i said, do you want to keep it?" satoru asked once again. this time, his voice was a bit louder than before.

"i don't know. do you want to?" you asked him back the question, quietly.

your husband went quiet. having a child is not part of your plan but you have to because that's your purpose of marrying him, to bear an heir. now, satoru was asking you nicely if you want to keep it when in the first place, it should happen this way.

"how many months?"

"two."

"and you didn't tell me?"

"do you want to know?"

"of course i want to know. that's literally my child in there." he pointed to your belly with a slight frustration on his face.

you did not say anything back, just continuing your duties as his wife—wife on papers. satoru was growing upset, tired, even angry at you. where was the talkative and fierce look that you have? where's the harshness in your voice? why do you look so vulnerable now?

"you can take a bath now. i'll be downstairs to prepare you dinner."

"y/n, wait—"

*slam*

before satoru could even stop you, you already left, leaving him in all silence. the husband heaves a deep sigh within him as he recollects the events prior to this day. he remembers how he acted when he discovered to ijichi that you went to the hospital and went back home with a pregnancy result in your pocket.

satoru remembers almost getting killed by the special curse when the news caught him totally off guard. you two only have intercourse when both are drunk after coming home from shoko's birthday and that's it. you also told him that you were on pills so he's relieved. but how?

what if—

no, no, no. you wouldn't. you wouldn't do that to him. you are his little loyal wife and even though both of you aren't on good terms, he trusted your loyalty…or was he? were you?

everything was so messed up that he couldn't think of anything even after taking a shower and now he's on his way downstairs to eat dinner. once he was in the kitchen, he saw you almost absentmindedly cutting the vegetables.

satoru took a seat, quietly. he was watching you as your back was facing him. his six eyes weren't dumb to notice how much weight you are slowly losing. unconsciously, satoru was clutching his fists tightly.

"i bought you your favorite milk tea. it's in the fridge, you can drink it later." your voice seemingly dropped him from his daze. satoru looked at you once more, only to find out that you're still not facing him back.

"o…okay, thanks."

minutes later, you place a plate of curry in front of him. satoru noticed that there's only one plate on the table, which was his.

"where's your meal?"

"i already ate." oh right, it was literally midnight now. you should be asleep by now, yet here you are, serving your husband. also, why does it seem like satoru was hoping to eat dinner with you? it is unusual, to be honest.

for your five years of marriage, you two would only eat together for formal matters. but with a simple domestic setting like this, there's no way a peace would occur if the two of you shared a table and a meal.

while he is eating, satoru watches you grab the said milk tea from the fridge and place it in front of him. "just leave the dishes on the sink. i'll wash them later." and with that, you left the dining room.

the food was great, it was very delicious. satoru can't deny that you're great at cooking, and you really have a specialty when it comes to curry like this. but why does this meal taste bitter? perhaps, was it because of the taste of his conscience? he doesn't know.

the six eyes ate in silence. he was planning to talk to you later about everything. but anyway, satoru has been eyeing the milk tea you bought for him. now this wasn't unusual. everytime you would go out, you would always buy him some of his favorites, mostly food.

like there's a time where you bought him his favorite mochi, crepe cakes, churros, ice creams—basically every dessert or food stalls you happened to pass by. it warms his heart, though. there's also a time where he anticipated what kind of sweet delicacy you would give him next.

anyway, satoru finished eating his meal. he was drinking the milk tea you gave to him while searching for you. he saw you sitting on the same spot when he first saw you this evening, by the patio of your garden. silently, satoru took a seat beside you with a mindful distance between you two.

"can we talk?" he started. in which you reply with a soft hum. satoru finds himself gulping, he sets aside his drink first before mimicking your posture—wrapping his arms on his folded legs.

"so um, since there's a baby now…i'd like to discuss this matter with you, properly. i was thinking about…moving you in one of the jujustu high's dorms." satoru nibbles the straw of the sugary drink, absentmindedly.

"it's for safety measures, since i'm not always at home and the risk will be doubled by now. but if you're inside the campus, a lot of sorcerers would be able to protect you." he added.

"okay." you did not even question him or even argue with him, you just simply agree without a second thought.

the man could feel himself gulping, the bitterness increasing despite the sweet liquid he was drinking. he's starting to get uncomfortable the way you are currently acting.

also, come to think of it, you agreed to temporarily live in jujustu high—does that mean you are keeping the baby? satoru couldn't help but to finally ask you.

"d…does that mean—"

"the baby has nothing to do with us. i'm not that cruel to take its life." before satoru could beat you, you already beat him.

"when will i be moving out?"

satoru gulped the growing rare anxiousness down to his throat. "probably next week. give me some time to deliver this news to the higher ups." you just mumbled an okay as your response.

"y/n, are you really sure about this?" the man couldn't really pinpoint your decision. although you made it explicit, he still couldn't comprehend you.

"i'm okay with anything. it's just you who didn't. also, if you are planning to ask me about keeping the child once again, go ask yourself instead. your decision is my decision." you replied.

satoru made a mental note that your voice sounds more tired than before. it kinda ignited something that he was not used to feeling before as literally a man-god himself who's full of pride.

"i'll be resting now. have a good night." he did not stop you, in fact, he thinks it's for the better. satoru could only follow you by his gaze as you enter your own room.

yes, your own room. the two of you did not share the same room. you two couldn't even bear to eat together, what more on sleeping together. this is not what satoru meant when he asked you to talk. but oh well, guess he should also call this a night. with that, satoru retreated to his own room and slept.

fast forward, you moved to jujutsu high and started teaching as a history teacher in a world full of related curses(suggested by satoru) since you're an alumni at this school like your husband. you like that idea too since it's a great way to distract yourself from everything.

currently, you are watching your third year students train themselves along with the second years and the first years. it was quite a good sight since all of them have a nice and strong potential as a sorcerer.

suddenly, one of your husband's students came to you with a big smile on his face. that must be yuuji, the vessel for the infamous king of curses. you always adored him, he's a good kid. but you couldn't help but to be saddened by the fact that he was literally carrying a big burden over his life.

"y/n sensei, good afternoon!" he waved at you before taking a seat nearby you. behind him, you saw his two other friends—your husband's students too.

"oi, you're being too loud." megumi scolded his friend. he was worried that yuuji's loudness was too much for your situation, your pregnancy.

"it's fine, megumi." you just chuckled. "i have some extra chocolate bars here, you three can have it." the trio thanked you happily, while you just smiled in return.

"by the way, we have a question for you, y/n sensei." yuuji said, munching on the chocolate. you asked him to shoot the question but he suddenly hesitated, looking at his two friends for support.

when he received the support he needed, he took a deep breath. "y/n sensei, we were wondering about your husband a-and…" yuuji trailed off. you already know what he meant, so you didn't wait for him any further.

"oh, i suppose you are curious because you haven't seen my husband even though i technically lived here?" the smile still lingers on your face as you watch them nod their heads.

there's something that you forgot to mention to them, they don't know that their teacher is your husband and the father of your child. you were prepared for a situation like this, though.

megumi on the other hand, could've known this beforehand since satoru took care of him during his childhood. then your marriage came through and your husband was already taking care of megumi, but it was kept a secret to everyone—including him.

stroking your six months belly, a recent hobby of yours when you want to seek some comfort. "he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower me with love by making sure that we still communicate despite his busy schedule."

"lately, we've barely talked. yet, he promised me that he will finish all of his jobs and tasks before going home to me. probably that's when our child is about to be born." you sigh just to justify this facade.

the students seem to believe your story. although you're quite worried that they might tell this to gojo and your cover will be blown. you planned to talk about this to him, anyway.

"that must've been hard, y/n sensei." nobara mumbles out of sympathy. she was worried for you and your child due to the absence of your husband.

if only they knew that your experience was much harder.

"you could always come to us, y/n sensei. we will not hesitate to help you and your child." beaming brightly as the other two agreed, you really adore yuuji. the amount of softness he gave to you is something that your future child would like to possess.

"thank you, you three. now, you all better go back to training. i will be heading to shoko since i promised to visit her." watching as the three wave their good-byes to you, you couldn't help but to feel an urge to protect them at all cost. probably due to your maternal instinct but whatever, you just hoped they would stay safe.

another fast forward, you are on your way towards shoko's office to spend your free time. knocking softly on her wooden door, shoko opens the door with a smile on her face.

"how's my little mama doing?" she engulfed you with a hug, which you returned warmly.

"good. the morning sickness did not attack me today, thank goodness." you said as you took a seat on her sofa.

shoko also commented that she was happy too. as mentioned before, stroking your six month old baby bump is a must on a daily basis. you are now used with a thought and feeling of a growing child inside you.

"and how're you and dickhead gojo?" shoko changes the topic.

"we were just fine like i have said before."

your friend heave the deepest sigh you've ever known. "just fine? y/n, do you want me to say the like i have said before too?"

"sho, ever since we knew that we're having a baby, we really tried our best to be compatible with each other. but we just couldn't." it's true, on the exact tomorrow of that eventful night wherein gojo discovers your pregnancy, he tried to make it up to you by lessening the sparkling arguments, making sure you are well feeded, and even showering you with things your eyes would have landed on.

you are delighted, of course. even though he absolutely fails his duty as your husband, at least he's trying his best to be a good father for your child. you appreciate him for that and also start to open your heart and pour a little more trust to him.

however, you are not dumb to notice the faint smell of a female's perfume and lipstick stain on his neck whenever he's with you. your heart slowly closes once again and your little more trust shatters.

once you saw yourself crying silently—feeling betrayed and angry for yourself on trusting him shortly after that. guess old habits never die, you are crying about something you've already expected. self-blaming is an understatement for letting your guard absolutely down.

gojo's still a jerk even though you had his baby. i should've expected this. having a baby doesn't mean he's going to change for me.

"we both tried, sho—we both tried. but we just couldn't." your voice dropped its tone once more. you still felt bitter even if it happened way back like two months ago.

"or he just couldn't." she snorted sarcastically.

you both knew she's right, gojo just couldn't. for years of being married, you unfortunately learned how to love a man like him who doesn't even give a one shit about you. tragic. very fucking tragic. if only you could see yourself directly, you would laugh at her nonstop.

"maybe this marriage is meant to be loveless—"

*slam!*

"yo shoko, i need—oh…" the door suddenly bursts open as it reveals your hot issue for today and probably for the rest, your husband gojo. you could tell that he was also surprised (but he shouldn't be) to see you here in shoko's infirmary.

"learn to fucking knock, gojo." shoko hissed at the white haired male.

"oh sorry. am i interrupting something?" he asked, looking at everything but you. he refused to spare you even a small glance, which you kinda do the same.

"you're not. now what do you need?" shoko was the one who answered him.

before gojo could even open his mouth , you already excused yourself. "i'll be taking my leave now. thanks for the check up, shoko." and then you left, leaving shoko and gojo with an awkward silence.

"aren't you going to talk about your business or maybe you want me to kick you out?" shoko sarcastically made a comment.

"right…" satoru cleared up his throat. for some reason, he doesn't know why he's suddenly getting iffy.

"ho…how's the child doing?"

"you have to be fucking kidding me." shoko groaned loudly. somehow, she expected this, but she couldn't believe that she would actually encounter this.

"y/n was just right there moments ago and you didn't even bother to ask her that yourself?!" the doctor could feel herself getting really annoyed. the truth may hurt but she's getting annoyed by the two of you.

fight here, ignore there—ignore there, fight here.

"bet she told you that we're not on good terms even though we really tried to work it out. yet, you're seemingly acting clueless." satoru snorted sarcastically. he's not dumb that you're telling stories to your friend, shoko.

the doctor rolled her eyes. she was this close from smashing his old friend's face to the wall to wake him up and stop being an idiot. "every fucking time, gojo. but that should not be an excuse to not talk to her. you two are still married for god's sake, and now, there's even a child along the way. i can see how much effort y/n has put in your marriage, you must do the same."

"don't you dare to compare her efforts to mine, you know nothing." he growls.

"but i sure know how shitty you are."

something inside satoru snaps. "why are you being angry at me?! you've been like this since we got married. always defending y/n, but what about me?! i have been your friend since highschool and you just met that girl! wouldn't it be unfair to side with someone whom you just met?!"

"you're asking me that when you have six eyes and yet, you can't see how much she suffers from you?!”

“but what about me? am i not suffering too?!”

how did we get here? things are getting pretty out of hand. two friends getting fired up because of a marriage that was about to fall apart. one being inside the marriage while the other one has the eye inside the marriage.

both shoko and gojo have their own sides but it all leads back to one thing, you are involved.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage. everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

“just want, what? end your marriage by divorcing her?”

the moment the last syllables escaped her lips, she already knew the answer.

“fucking gojo.” shoko mumbles under her breath. “if you want to fix your life, you better not act dumb.”

satoru was still caught silent. his wide eyes trailed on the floor and unable to move. shoko saw how she hit the point. sighing over herself, she motioned the door. “get out, gojo. if you're gonna rethink your life choices, do it in your home with your wife.”

and with that, without a word, satoru left her clinic feeling heavy and defeated.

along the hallway, he saw you. satoru saw you looking at him with horror in your eyes—for the first time in one month, you finally looked him in the eyes, but it's filled with fear and tears.

“y/n, i—” just like what he had done before he left shoko's clinic, you left without saying a word.

satoru felt everything become hazy, his knees were trembling, his six eyes were stinging, his lips were turning white on how hard he bites them. the man shuddered in disappointment, you must have heard everything.

his feet act on their own and chases you, holding you by the wrist. but it was torn away immediately after you forcefully snatched it back. while doing so, satoru didn't fail to notice the hot tears streaming on your pale face, in which you immediately wiped it out.

“y/n, i-it’s not what you think. i…” as much as satoru would like you to hear himself, he hasn't gotten the words. he was left stuck by his own thoughts and self-doubt that he puts himself into shame.

meanwhile, you thought you could've just walked away from the scene. but from the moment you hear shoko and satoru exchange heated words, it gets you glued to the floor and unable to move. despite her clinic being semi-soundproof, you hear everything. even if you're not there in the room physically, you seemingly know everything.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”

“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

“y/n,” satoru called your name. his tone was very far from you used to. you grow accustomed to him saying your name venomously, but now it seems like he's saying your name delicately and vulnerable…and satoru hates being vulnerable.

“i know what you're thinking. i accidentally eavesdropped but i didn't t hear everything.” you internally praise yourself for being a great actress. you thank yourself for not stuttering and not sounding so dejected.

but you lied. you're a terrible liar. you heard everything. you heard every single thing that escaped his lips during his argument inside your friend's office. and you feel like dying, his words hurt you so much more than any deadly curses.

“have you eaten already? do you want me to prepare you for a bath?” satoru couldn't understand why the heck you still care for your wife duties when your husband, him, just broke your heart not so long ago?

you're acting absolutely strange in his eyes and he hates it. he hates how you would just bury or bottle your emotions. you're creating a facade and a labyrinth where you keep it by yourself.

“y/n, it's not time for anything. let's just talk please.” you hate it how he sounds like he's begging, but satoru never begs.

“let’s go to my room. let's talk this out—”

“gojo sensei! yaga sensei was looking for y—oh…” yuuji trailed his tracks when he saw you and satoru together.

“dummy! why do you just yell like that?!” megumi bonked his friend's head for interrupting your talk.

wearing your mask again, you smiled at the duo then brushed yourself away from the scene. satoru couldn't stop you any further, you're already away from him.

either way, satoru does the same, he wore his mask just like you. smiling at his students, he let them navigate the way towards yaga and deal with all of his shits so he would have time and talk to you properly this time.

meanwhile, yuuji and megumi were dismissed after they had done their task. nudging his black haired friend, yuuji pointed out things earlier.

“hey, fushiguro. is it just me or did i just see y/n sensei…crying?” he questioned. megumi remained silent because even saw that you were crying—they’re also not dumb to notice the burst energy somewhere inside your body.

“whether she is or not, it's none of our business.” megumi replied.

“i know. but i couldn't help but to feel really worried about her. you know crying can be bad, especially when you're pregnant, that could stress her out.” yuuji surprisingly knows how pregnancy somehow works. but they both know he's right again. they're worried about you and your baby, so they both take a mental note to visit you later.

as you slam the door behind you, a silent sob escapes your lips as you slide your back behind the wooden frame. along with the sound of your cries, was also the sound of your heart breaking.

for some reason, the facade you just put up there early makes you suffocate. it burns your eyes and it makes you shudder in pain. the hyperventilating noise escapes from your lips while you clutch the handful of fabrics of your blouse.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”

“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

god, that feeling burns! his words keep on burning in your head, engraving the letters piece by piece. those words are not too cruel, it's a little far from what you had heard before. but it came out directly from your husband's mouth, the father of your baby.

maybe, you think you acted this way because of your hormones. but nonetheless, he's like blaming you for all of his misfortunes and that made you recall your past arguments with him before.

it was like a collection of puzzles coming up together, picturing a clear image; you were just a distraction, he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just a burden, he wanted to dissolve this marriage, you would never be his, he wanted to be free from you.

you put your hand on your baby bump, stroking it ever so gently. you swore to yourself that you would never let anyone harm your baby, you would never let this marriage harm your baby, you would never let satoru harm your baby, you never let yourself harm your baby. that's for sure.

because as the clock ticks, time passes. and as the time passes, more tears flow to your cheeks along with blood on your legs.

[part 2 is out now — ©luvvixu2024]

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅*

Pairing: Felix x Reader (fem)

Genre: Smut (Fluffy smut tbh)

Warnings: Felix!Ai Robot, Creampie, unprotected sex, Oral (F), fingering, dirty talk, mentions of recording, nipple play, temperature play, slightly proofread.

Find The Halloween Master List Here

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, and I’ve been doing a lot better with adding some plot lol. So I hope y’all enjoy.

-🎃

A new shipment of part had came in for you, as the man unloaded the heavy boxes into your garage you noticed a half put together robot. He had one arm barely hanging on, an eye missing, a huge hole in his chest and no legs. Your heart shattered seeing it all torn apart and damaged. “What’s uhm happened to that one?” You said softly as the man put the box that held it in it on the ground. “We don’t know exactly but he did come from the violet district.” The man sad with almost sadness in his voice. You let out a deep breath nodding your head. Nicknamed the Double V for violet violent district. This place was known for criminal activity, robot fighting, drugs and mafia.

It didn’t surprise you now seeing its state coming from there. You thanked the man for the parts and scrap before going back into your place. You looked over at the robot “I wonder if I have anything to fix you?” You said aloud. “I don’t have any projects right now so” you said picking up the mangled robot sitting it at your work station. As the days turned into weeks you were slowly making progress. You didn’t know what you’d do with it when it was put together but you figured you just see what it wanted.

You figured out it was a male robot as you worked on its inners. His attachments were still intact inside, and the rods for his “fluids” were still good. “Ah so you’re a male? I wonder what your name is? Wonder what you actually look like?” The thing with these AI robots is they had their own personality, their own looks and you wouldn’t know what he’d really look like until you got his hardware back working.

About a month of getting him you finally had him all done. His body was good as new, pushing his back button to help turn him on you sighed seeing his face flash. -Uploading memories- flashed across his face. You let out an annoying sigh but occupied yourself waiting for it to fully download. A few hours later you had passed out head laying on your desk beside the robot. You tried your best to stay awake, wanting to see him as soon as he woke. When he came to he looked around then down at you. Although he wasn’t “alive” per se he heard you as you worked on him.

Your pretty voice kept him going as you worked on him giving him hope that he was somewhere safe. When he saw you were sleeping he wrapped his arms around you taking you to your bed laying you down gently making his way to the small chair you had in your room. He sat there and waited, waited for you to wake. To thank you for everything you had done for him. Flickering your eyes awake you stretched your arms up. “I don’t remember coming to bed” you said softly in a groggy voice. “I brought you to bed” a voice said coming from the other side of your room.

You let out a small scream before grabbing the knife from your night stand “who the fuck are you?” You said scared someone had broken in. “S-sorry didn’t mean to scare you, my names Felix. I’m.. the robot you were working on” he said softly. You turned on your light looking over at him. You’ve never seen such a beautiful robot. He has perfectly placed freckles, a velvety voice with an accent, pretty brown eyes and a gorgeous smile. “There’s no way they used you for fighting” the words slipped out before you could think. He chuckled a bit “ah well this pretty face fools a lot of people, I’m actually programmed with a lot of martial arts” he said with a smile.

You just nodded in response still trying to wrap your head around his beauty. “Thank you.” He said softly. “Oh of- of course!” You said looking up at him. “What uhm did you wanna do? You’re more than welcome to stay here with me or go on and live your life” you said. “I can stay here?” He said voice full of shock. You nod “yeah if you want. I have a spare room. Or even if you wanna leave later. I’m just happy I could.. save you” your voice soft almost a whisper at the end.

He smiled once again a small blush creeping across his face “I’m happy you saved me too” he said punctuating the ‘you’ part. As you worked on his for months he felt himself almost falling for you. The little things you did while you were alone like singing or making dumb jokes as you worked. How you never gave up on him and kept saying stuff like “I know you’re gonna be better, you’ll live a happier life I promise.” The words he kept recorded in a file he listened to ever so often.

He’s been living with you for about 3 months now. You really enjoyed having the company plus he helped you a lot on other projects. Helping to fix other robots who had come there for help. How gentle and caring you were to them just made him fall for you even more. One of the nights you were getting ready to have some ‘alone time’ when Felix had stopped you. “Y/n..” he said softly looking at the ground. “You alright lix?” You said worried he was upset or something. “I know what you’re going to do..” he said eyes still at the ground.

You tried to look at his face “wh-what do you mean?” You asked. “You have this routine before masterbating” he said his voice low. Before you could say anything back he continued “am I not good enough? I can make you feel good. Better than that tiny little thing you have. Let me make you feel good?” He asked his eyes now locked on yours. Your mouth was hanging open in shock “Felix” you said in almost a whisper. “Can I?” He said his lips now hovering over yours. You nod but he shakes his head “I need you to say it” he said inches from your face. “Yes” you said and like that his lips were attached to yours.

They felt warm as his tongue made its way into your mouth. He pulled your pants down as he worked his hands up your body teasing your nipples. He quickly got to his knees kissing your thighs before attaching his lips to your cunt. Everything happened so fast but as soon as his mouth started to work on your cunt all thoughts were gone. He sucked on your clit as he pushed to of his fingers into you. He made them nice and warm for you pushing deep into you. It felt weird, good but weird. It was so warm it almost felt like cum as he pumped himself into you.

The noises you were making plus how good you looked made his mind go into overdrive. He started recording, to save in his memory forever. The way your body shuttered under his touch. The moans the slipped past your lips and the way his name sounded coming from you. He was losing himself in you his hands were moving faster as he felt you clenching around him. He sprung his cock out gripping it in his hand as he pumped himself. He let out moans against your pussy making it vibrate. His tongue came up to your clit swirling around it, as he made it vibrate against it.

One thing about Robots is they could do so many things humans couldn’t do. God were you finding it out right now. The vibrations of his tongue mixing with his fingers curling against your walls was bringing you over the edge so fast. “Felix! Fuck I’m- fuck I’m close” you mumbled out gripping onto his long blonde hair as you rode his face chasing your high. Your movements made him moan his hand left his cock so he could play with your nipples. Wanting to pleasure you more than anything. He made his fingers cold like ice as he traced over them. Perking them up the feeling of it drove you over the edge. You came, legs shaking as the closed burring Felix’s face into your cunt. As he lapped up your juices you were a moaning mess. The feeling of him still going making you so overstimulated.

When he pulled away you brought you to your room laying himself down on the bed “use me. I’m here to please you. Please.. fuck please use me” he babbled out. Your eyes finally met his cock, it was so thick average length but so so fucking thick. Your mouth almost drooled at it before you could even think you go down licking the tip of his cock. His hips bucked at the surprise his mouth ajar as he let out the lowest groan. You smiled to yourself before moving to straddle him. You leaned down to kiss him rubbing your soaked pussy against his cock.

The movement made you both moans against each other’s lips. When you felt like he was good and wet you let him slip in slowly. Eyes rolling back as you felt his whole length inside you. “S-so warm” he whimpered. The feeling of him so full inside you made your brain go foggy. You leaned back and with out warning started to ride him. Bouncing your hips up and down taking him all in. His hands went to grip your sides shaking almost at the feeling. “Fuck y/n- please- fuck- yes use me- fucking use me” he moaned out his hands digging into your hips.

His words made your head spin, moving your hips as fast as you can taking him as deep as you could. You let your hands wonder his body, wishing you could leave marks on his skin. Your movements were getting lazy as your legs go tired and your high was quickly approaching again. “Gonna cum?” He asked eyes half open. When you nod he’s wrapping his arms around you pulling you to his chest. His cock moved fast in and out of you, non human fast. As his cock hit your cervix you both let out a moan.

“Lix fuck right there fuck- please don’t stop” you cried out. He nodded as he kept the same pace. “Tell me when you’re gonna cum I wanna cum with you please. Please baby fuck I wanna fill you with everything I got. I love you y/n. I love you so much. My beautiful. My everything.” He babbled. “Do you love me? Please y/n tell me you love me” he looked like he could cry at the pleasure at the thought of you loving him back. “Fuck Lix! I love you fuck I love you so much! You’re all mine yeah? All mine to use like my dirty little toy?” Your words brought something out in him.

His eyes rolled back hips hitting deep with in you harder than the last his hand coming down to play with your clit. “All- yours- yours” he kept repeating that over and over with every thrust. “Cu-cumming!” You choked out pussy swallowing him in as he gave you one more thrust letting himself unload deep inside you. He kissed you passionately holding onto you tight. He brushed some hair from your face as he pulled away looking into your eyes.

“You really mean it?” He said eyes looking over your face. “Of course I do silly, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t” you said with a smile pulling him into another kiss. “Even if I’m.. not human?” He said with a small pout. “Honestly I like you even more knowing you’re not. Humans kinda suck.” You giggled. Making him laugh “not all of them, I got the most perfect one though.” He said rubbing your back. “I love you Lixie” you said softly. “And I love you” he said back.

“Lix?” You said softly. He looked at you tilting his head “yeah?” He said. “How’s about another go?” You said face all red. He chucked “i can go as many rounds as you need baby” and boy were you gonna put that to the test.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyy,love your headcanon stuff! Especially the Batboys things

Wondering if you could do a few headcanons with the Batboys where the reader gets injured from a sport,work or something like that and they hide it from the Batboys?

It's all good if you can't or already have written something similar to this :)

Dick

Thought everything was okay until he started to notice how you’d carefully and meticulously planned out how you should move your body, which almost made you look robotic in the process.

That was when he knew something was wrong when you refused to let him hold your afflicted side, strict that you weren’t in the mood for it, but it was obvious to dick that wasn’t the case.

He’d even notice your breath hitched in your throat when you moved a certain way too fast, pulling on your injured side in a way that caused you to stop and try to breathe through the pain that was coursing through your body before continuing on with your day as though nothing had happened.

‘Are you okay sweetheart?’ He’d ask softly as you held your side instinctively when you caught it on the edge of the counter, it was a brief bump but it was enough to have you fighting back tears from streaming down your face.

‘No.’ You’d whimper, ‘I’m not. I’m hurt dickie bird.’

With that dick immediately gets you to bed and assess the situation with your side, only to see a particularly nasty looking bruise blossoming across your side in hues of purple, yellow and more. ‘Oh why didn’t you say anything sooner?’ He says as he gingerly held a pack of ice against your bruises, holding your hand with the other as you squeezed it the moment the ice pack made content with your tender side.

‘I didn’t want you to worry about me and my stupid bruises.’ You admitted and dick couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

‘I’ll always a worry about you sweetheart, no matter what I’ll always worry. So let me take care of you now.’ Dick told you as he then dedicated the rest of his spare time to making sure to ice your bruises while smothering you in kisses and words of affirmation into your skin to take your mind off of the ache in your side.

Damian

He just knows you’re hurt and it’s best not to act like you’re not because it’s not fooling him in the slightest.

Even if you tired to pass it off as something that’ll go away eventually, Damian would see through such an excuse with ease.

‘If that’s the case then why are you still struggling to pick up a kettle when making yourself a drink?’ He would ask and suddenly your mouth became dry and a mind blank of ideas on how to answer that.

Your silence was enough of an answer for Damian to know that you were full of shit and were only making things worse for yourself out of sheer stubbornness to not admit to him that you were hurt.

So Damian took it upon himself to make sure that your hand was properly bandaged, while telling you that you were not allowed to do anything that could cause you more discomfort or make things worse for yourself.

However he would personally over see your healing process himself when he wasn’t on missions, making sure that you were taking your medication, drinking enough fluids and eating enough food while doing the harder tasks for you without a single word uttered past his lips.

Damian was serious about your healing and didn’t want to see you further descend into pain if he could help it while with a look of perpetual annoyance upon his face.

‘If it bothered you so much to look after me then don’t bother-‘

‘No.’

‘No?’ You asked.

‘I don’t trust you to not hurt yourself even more, so let me do it until you can actually lift a kettle again.’ He said and you couldn’t help but smile at his way of saying that he didn’t want you to further hurt yourself out of fear, even if he did possess a unique way of saying it, but you wouldn’t have Damian any other way.

Jason

Had a suspicion that you were injured the moment you didn’t allow yourself to fully utilise your foot without groaning, grabbing on the nearest surface to steady yourself before trying to act like nothing ever happened.

Once Jason had enough of you pretending you were okay, when you clearly weren’t, He doesn’t hesitate to carry you off to your room with little struggle and put you down on your bed.

‘Jason what the-‘

‘You’re hurt and you didn’t think to tell me?’ Jason asked, a little hurt that you didn’t seemly guest him enough to admit to them you were injured, which only made him wonder about all the other times you had been hurt but didn’t say anything to him and instead suffered in silence until you were passed off as fine.

‘I didn’t want to worry you!’ You replied, seeing the hurt in his eyes and immediately feeling bad about your decision because you knew Jason valued honesty and respect in your relationship, and so you could only imagine what was going through his mind upon finding out that you were hiding something from him after having told him everything in your relationship thus far.

‘Of course I’m going to be worried when you’re hurt, you’re hurt and I don’t know how!’ Jason exclaimed but his hands remained gently when elevating your foot on the closest pillow he could find within reach. He then placed a soft, featherlight kiss to your ankle, leaving a pleasant tingle there as he looks at you tiredly. ‘I just want you to come home safe and not in bits, I just want to protect you and keep you happy.’

‘You already do that enough as it is jay birdie!’ You cried as you grabbed his hand and held it close to your chest, thumb rubbing at the pulse point on his wrist soothingly, while kissing each and every one of his fingers. ‘Besides I just tripped up on something when on my daily jog and it sprained my ankle, nothing more, nothing less.’ You explained to him as you pleased with your eyes for him to believe that you were telling the truth.

Jason, being the massive softy that he was towards you, sighed and squeezed your hand. ‘Okay chipmunk but I best not see you walking on your ankle until you’re better.’ He said sternly and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘As long as my jay birdie is the one taking care of me, then I’ll never step a toe out of this bed, it’s too comfy.’ You said and Jason visibly relaxed as he kissed your forehead. ‘That’s a shame, I like the aspect of having to carry you back to bed, I didn’t get my morning kiss before you left for your daily jog after all.’ He whispered against your skin.

You and Jason use your sprained ankle as an excuse just to cuddle and spend time together to make up for lost time between the two of you.

Bruce

Another one who’s sharp eyes immediately knows that your hiding your hurt from him.

The biggest give away was the fact that you didn’t put much weight on your afflicted foot and instead poorly attempted to hide your hobbling and facial expressions of intense discomfort you’re putting yourself through just to leave him unsuspecting.

You failed on all grounds when dating/married to a detective/vigilante.

Bruce knows you’re not okay and he’s not going to allow you to make things worse for yourself either, as soon enough he has Alfred help him set up a comfortable space for you to properly rest for the foreseeable future, making sure you had everything you could possibly need and more to make your healing journey more durable.

Even if you tried to deflect any and all notation that you were hurt. Bruce would look at you unimpressed because you were talking to someone who had once tried to fuck up thugs with a couple broken rips, fractured bones and more, only to be stopped by Alfred who walked him back to the manor like a disappointed and overtired father.

Bruce now understood what Alfred felt when he practically had to carry you to your shared room where you were to remain bed bound, not until Alfred said you were cleared to walk the manor without flaring up your injury.

‘This isn’t fair! It’s just a sprain!’ You cried as Bruce made sure that your pillows were fluffed and that your comforting blankets were even fluffier.

‘A sprain that could’ve worsened with how you treated it.’ Bruce replied as he put aside the ibuprofen gel and paracetamol tablets on the nightstand along with a glass of water before gently but quickly elevating your bandaged foot with a pillow.

‘Still i could’ve handled it myself.’ You muttered under your breath.

‘If by better you mean make it worse and prolonging the healing process, then yes I’d say you had it handled well.’ Bruce said sarcastically that you couldn’t help but notice the irony in the statement.

‘You’re just as worse!’ You pointed out, ‘how many times has Alfred has to stop you from going out at night while severely hurt?’

‘Too many to count.’ Bruce said under his breath but he only smiled at you and kissed your forehead before getting up from the bed and moved to the door of your shared room, but just as he was about to leave he gave you a pointed look. ‘You.stay.here.’ He gestured to the bed before leaving you to look up at the ceiling, knowing that if Bruce was going to be looking after you, there’s was little to no chance that he would let you step even a toe out of bed without looking at you like a overtired husband.

Bonus: baby dick and Jason are your ‘bodyguards.’ Who will tell Bruce if you even tried to leave bed before you were fully healed.

[lunarmoves]

"can i have a kiss?"

you abruptly choke on the sip of water you'd been taking, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you cough roughly and loudly into your palm. it's enough to make your throat ache, and you barely register a large hand patting you on your back as you do your best to clear your windpipe.

"pardon?" you eventually force out, voice scratchy as you look up at sun through watering eyes. "what did you say?"

sun's head tilts to the side slightly. it's difficult to parse out what he's thinking with those blank eyes of his. "can i have a kiss?" he repeats for you in the same tone and inflection—light and casual like he's simply asking about the weather.

you blink owlishly at him, then glance around the empty daycare. maybe as an excuse to not look at him. everything was cleaned swiftly today, leaving you with some free time before you had to clock out. you just hadn't expected it to be spent like this, however. you clear your throat and look back at sun. his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides, barely noticeable had he not been standing stock still.

"...what's brought this on?" you ask after a short moment of silence. you're stalling, you know, but you're genuinely curious.

his head tilts the other way, a quiet click coming from his face plate. and then—like he hadn't just been standing before you, still as a statue—he jolts back into an amiable sway.

"oh, you know!" he gushes out, clasping his hands together and making the bells attached to his ribbons jingle with the motion. "we just see the way parents kiss their children at the door! and, well, those kids love to play house a lot too, you see. it's difficult not to notice it when it happens all the time! we are simply..." he trails off, as though searching for the right word. "...intrigued."

"right..." you're not quite buying what he's trying to say. hell, your ears are likely still tinged red from the initial embarrassment of his question. "you give kisses to the kids all the time, though," you point out. they aren't kisses so much as they are little taps of his static smile to their boo-boos or foreheads when they ask. you only know they're intended as kisses because sun lets out an exaggerated mwah every time.

sun only looks at you, something tense along the line of his thin shoulders. you wait, in the silence of the too large daycare, as he seems to ruminate upon something. and when he speaks, it makes something curl tightly in the deepest pit of your stomach.

"that's different," he replies quietly. a pin drops in the far distance.

your tongue suddenly feels too thick for your mouth and you swallow before you reply. "how so?" you find yourself asking. you... you don't quite understand. or maybe you don't want to. maybe you're looking for an answer you're not quite prepared to hear yet. maybe you are ready and you just don't realize it yet.

"they're not you." it's said simply—like saying the sky is blue or grass is green. your lips purse together. you refuse to admit how that makes you feel—how it makes something hot flood throughout your body.

"...there are cameras," you say weakly, trying to fight down the flush crawling up your neck and into your cheeks. was this really happening? was he really asking you this? it's just a kiss, you scold yourself. you're overreacting. he's a robot—it's not like it means anything to him. right? "i'm on shift. i could get fired." it doesn't matter if it's a friendly little peck—anything seen like that with a robot on cameras after the daycare has closed will be detrimental to your career.

"don't you worry your silly little head about that!" sun waves a hand in dismissal, his eyes upturned slightly into white crescents. there's a curve to his smile that you're only minutely wary of. "we've taken care of it!" ...whatever that means. you eye one of the cameras positioned near the ceiling of the daycare, the small red light on it frozen. you... aren't going to question that. you internally sigh.

sun's always curious—always pushing boundaries. always seeing how far he can go with you before you take a step back.

it seems like you'd taken too long to respond. sun closes the small distance between the two of you with a single, long stride, standing before you in a way that makes you crane your head up. your personal space is wiped out in an instant. he bends down until his face is mere inches above yours. and then he waits.

"don't be shy!" he tells you brightly, fingers flexing by his sides. one of his rays twitches atomically. "put 'er right here!" his face plate spins slightly as an indicator.

he's really not leaving you much room for choice here. you huff at his persistence, giving him a small roll of your eyes. and with a deep breath to help ground yourself—keep your head clear and look at this all from an objective standpoint (robot, he's a robot, he's curious, it doesn't mean anything)—you eventually raise yourself up on your tippy toes.

a kiss—as small and feathery as a wisp of wind on a cool, fall day—is pressed delicately to the plating of his forehead. the metal is cool under your touch, a contrast against the warmth of your skin. you don't let yourself linger, dropping back down onto your heels as you clear your throat and force yourself to look at him. he's still watching you—with that too large smile and too squinted eyes.

"there you go," you force out as casually as you can. there's something swarming in your gut and you're not sure if it's a good thing or not. "happy?"

sun's rays spin around once, but he doesn't move away. his smile stretches wider—thinner like a blade. and when he speaks, there's a faint depth to his voice that makes you think of the way moon speaks.

"you missed." he bends down closer to you, the shadows of his lithe form casting themselves across your face. he lifts a hand to tap once against the metal of his smile and the sound seems to echo through the daycare. you stare up at him with wide eyes, a cool prickle making its way down your spine. sun's face plate makes another sharp click. "do it again."

you mouth opens, then closes, until you finally muster up the will to let out a little laugh—albeit a slightly shaky one.

"c'mon, dude, i gave you a kiss." you let out another chuckle and find yourself leaning back just a tad. "i should head out now anyways, it's getting lat—"

before you can even finish your sentence, sun's hands dart out to grip you tightly on your upper arms. trapping you within his hold as he draws you closer. you're forced to look up at him, all tense lines and twitching metallic parts.

"you misunderstand, friend." sun grins wider, the gleam of his teeth sharp in the daycare's lighting. you take the smallest step back. "i wasn't asking."

moon

[patricia-taxxon]

Attempting to extend sympathy to my younger self via self insert fiction.

"Hello there!"

I looked up from the lunchbox on my lap towards the source of the sudden loud voice, standing four or so feet away from me was a… dog? He stood on two legs, an eager look on his face. I looked around, none of the other kids were nearby.

"Hello?" I said back, a little confused.

"My name is Paul! What is your name?" The dog replied, both in an oddly formal tone of voice and… loudly, even though he was close enough to grab.

"My name's Bradley." I said, and went back to my PB&J.

"How old are you, Bradley?" asked Paul, in that same babyish but too-formal tone, almost like a robot.

"I'm eleven." I replied, without looking up.

"I'm ten!" He said back. "Nice to meet you!"

Several seconds passed, and he didn't move or look away. I realized he was waiting for me to say something.

"Nice to meet you too, Paul." His tail twitched as I said that, but he quickly moved his paw behind him to hold it in place until it settled. "Sorry," He said, before asking another question. "What do you like to do?"

His awkward storybook-speaking was offputting to me, but no one ever talked to me at recess, especially not completely out of nowhere like this. I answered his question, "I like playing Smash Bros," but I don't know why I thought of that first. I didn't really feel like finishing my lunch, I started to pack it away for later.

"What's that?" He said back. Was that a joke? He looked curious.

"Uh… it's a game, you can play as different Nintendo characters and fight each other." I waited for him to respond, but he was still listening. "You can uh… you can be Sonic."

"That's really cool!" He said. "Can I sit next to you?"

"Hm? Oh, okay, I guess." I replied. The dog's tail instantly sprung to life, and he once again moved his paw to stop it. "Sorry," he said, and moved swiftly to sit on the bench next to me, a bit closer than I thought he would. He looked up towards me like he wanted me to keep talking, or… it looked like he was looking at the top of my head, I wasn't sure.

Instead of explaining Smash Bros anymore, I asked a question myself to take the pressure off. "What do you like to play?" Paul blinked and his ears perked up. "I like Marble Blast Gold!" He almost yelped out, before drawing back. "But… shhh, don't tell anyone. I'm not supposed to talk about it."

That didn't make any sense. "Huh? What does that mean?" I asked.

"It's the best game ever, you like… you roll, and you have to… like, you have to get to the end. Uh." He stammered. "But I'm not… I'm not allowed to play it anymore, my teachers said I'm too obsessed."

"That's bullshit." I spat.

"Yeah!!" He yelled, leaping up onto his haunches, tail wagging up a storm, until he noticed again, and pressed his paw to stop it. "Sorry." he said.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked.

"Doing what?"

"Stopping your tail." I pointed to his butt. "Aren't you like… a dog, or something?"

Paul cocked his head like I asked him a really stupid question. "Yeah? Why." He said, carefully.

We stared at each other for another couple of seconds. I didn't know how to word my questions without sounding awkward. "I've met a lot of… dogs, and wagging tails is pretty normal." I felt insane saying it out loud.

"Well I'm special!" Paul beamed. "I can talk, I can stand on two legs!" He got up and stood upon the bench, barely reaching eye level with me. "I'm in a class for special dogs only." He bumped a fist on his chest.

"Oh… okay." I said, not really understanding. I guess the rules were different for dogs that talk. It felt weird watching him do that though, and saying sorry for it too. "Are special dogs… not supposed to wag?" I asked.

"Yeah. No wagging." He replied. "'Cus humans don't wag."

"But humans don't have tails in the first place." I looked behind myself to check. "So you don't actually know if humans would wag or not, right?" I was getting seriously weirded out by this conversation, but I just kinda kept going. "How'd you learn to talk, anyways?" I asked, Paul looked like he was processing what I said very slowly.

"Like I said, I'm special." Paul repeated. "I'm learning how to make it disappear, like everyone else. First I gotta learn how to keep it still, though, so the magic works."

"Magic?" I said back to him. I mean, it wasn't all that weird compared to meeting a talking dog, but the word still threw me off.

"Yeah, lookit!" The dog hopped off the bench, hunched over with his back facing me, and started screaming like he was about to go super saiyan. I didn't know what I was supposed to be looking at, I was too startled. I might have been imagining things, but I think I saw his tail slowly retracting into his body like a lazy snake.

"Paul! What the fuck are you doing??" I shouted, but instead of responding, Paul just… went silent and flopped onto his side. I quickly rushed over, yelling "Are you okay? What just happened?" I looked over his body, flat on the asphalt. His tail had grown all the way back and… his body shrunk. His head was halfway tucked into his shirt like a turtle. His paws barely poked out of his sleeves, pointing directly forward from his body. He didn't look like a kid anymore, he looked like a dog that someone stuffed into some kid's clothes.

After a second, I thought it wouldn't hurt to poke him. "Paul? Recess is almost over." I poked at his chest, and he rolled onto his back limply. I suddenly felt silly trying to talk to him, like I was trying to reason with a pet. I tried a different approach, I clapped my hands and rapped on my knees. "Hey! Up! Food!"

Paul's eyes shot open, and he sneezed, before wiggling his legs to right himself. He took an instant and a half to realize where he was, and he suddenly cowered, looking straight at me, shivering. "Hey, what's wrong?" I whispered. He looked side to side, back at his own doggish body, and back to me. He blinked, looking like he was about to run away.

"No, no, it's okay." I tried to be reassuring, I'd never had a dog before so I didn't really know what I was doing. I almost forgot that I'd just been talking about Smash Bros with him. "Uh… do you like granola bars?" His ears perked up, and his tail swayed, his new… anatomy making it hard to reach back and stop it this time. I grabbed my backpack from behind me and rummaged through it for leftovers, I got the other of the two bars inside the wrapper, the one I didn't eat, and held it out in front of me. Paul approached me slowly, his nose twitching. "Can you… eat this, even?" I asked, as he sniffed the crumbly rectangle. He licked it soon after, and started nibbling and snarfing after that. I watched carefully, scared to make any sudden moves.

Paul looked up at me again, and I noticed his eyes were a little different. More definition, like I could tell a little more what he was feeling. His new eyes looked concerned, like he was waiting for me to do something bad. He reached up with a paw, it was looking a bit more like a hand now. I let go, and he held the bar himself as he munched away, sitting plainly on his knees.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Maghic." The dog said through a full mouth.

"That was magic?" I replied. "I saw your tail shrink, I'm pretty sure."

Paul swallowed. "How much?"

I thought back, the image was still clear in my head. "Like… barely at all. A couple inches?"

"Aw…" He looked disappointed in himself.

We sat in silence for a bit, but there was a question I wanted to ask. "Why do you want to get rid of your tail? Like… that looked painful."

"Mrs. Millie said I can go to the regular class if I can turn human," the talking dog said, proudly.

"You're pretty bad at that." I chuckled, reaching out to ruffle his ears without thinking. Paul looked like he was about to take it personally, but suddenly lost his train of thought as my hand touched his head. "Bwuhhf…" He woofed under his breath, his tail twitched and his paws lost their thumbs again. I quickly pulled my hand back, "Sorry! I didn't…" Paul's eyes took a second to form together again, and he looked right at me, "That wasn't fair." he whined, but his tail was still wagging.

"You really are a dog!" I said, glancing sneakily behind him. Paul followed my gaze to his own tail, yelped, and quickly pressed it down with both paws.

"Oh, come on, stop it." I joked. "It's psyching me out, it looks like it hurts when you hold your tail in place like that."

Paul turned his head back at me. "It doesn't… hurt," he said, slowly and surely.

"Hm. Whatever you say." I got up and went back on the bench. After I turned around to sit down, Paul was already running towards me. I didn't have any time to think before he bounded into my lap and butted his head into my chest while his tail went crazy. The impact knocked the wind out of me, but he was pretty small, I got it back in just a second. Paul yipped and barked, maybe there were some normal words in there too, but I couldn't understand it. This is where I realized he wasn't a very special dog after all, I think he was just normal.

I scratched behind his head and stroked his back through those baggy clothes, and this time he didn't mind. He might have been crying, it was hard to tell, I didn't really know what dog crying looked like. Eventually, he settled down. I couldn't feel his shoulders anymore, he seemed in danger of falling out of his shorts if he wasn't careful. I had a dog in my lap, an extremely normal dog. He stretched his body up and rested his head on my shoulder. "I like you, Bradley." He said, a little too slowly, and a little too loudly. I didn't know what to say to that, he barely knew me. This was all very weird. "You're a good dog." I said back, just because it felt right.

I could feel Paul's body shaping up into a more human posture again as he regained composure. He let go, turned to the side, and sat down on the bench next to me again, staring at his paws in his lap. I leaned over, "You okay?" I asked. He didn't answer, he just put his paw on my wrist and started twirling the hair under my sleeve.

I quickly jerked my hand away and covered the hairy skin. "Don't look at that!" I snapped.

"You have fur too!" Paul yelled.

"No, no, that's hair. I'm just…" I didn't want to explain, it was too embarrassing. I looked like I had my dad's arms, I hoped that no one would see. "It's a condition."

"Oh. Okay." Paul stared into the distance again. We sat in silence for another couple awkward seconds before the bell rang.

"Bye, Bradley." the dog said, scampering off.

"Bye, Paul." I waved after him, being sure to hold my sleeve up with my other hand.

[spicymancer]

considering that rumble after dark is a fighting game. do the characters have unique reactions to mirror matches?

Oooh this is a fun idea... let me think: Beck P1: Wait... if I kick my own ass, does that make me weak or strong? P2: Wanna find out? P1: Bring it on.

Madison: P1: If you're me, then tell me what number I'm thinking of right now! P2: Three. P1: Damn I'm good. SH0-T0 P1: It seems redundant for a training dummy to spar with another training dummy. P2: Who are you calling a dummy? P1: *sigh* Yuseong P1: Hey! I worked hard on this human disguise! You can't just copy it! P2: What are you gonna do? Sue me? P1: My mom's from hell. She knows enough lawyers.

Gibson P1: Hrm. I don't like this. P2: The feeling's mutual. P1: Then let's get this over with quickly.

Helen: P1: I want you to hit me as hard as you can. P2: Is this what I think it is? P1: If so, we're not supposed to talk about it. Pop cap: P1: ..... P2: .... .... P1: .... Vincent P1: Hey, wanna team up? You seem like a smart fella. P2: Smart enough not to trust a liar. P1: Hey, it takes one to know one.

Locke: P1: So... Robot? Hologram? Or is this a magic thing? P2: Could be a clone, or an alien imposter. P1: The paperwork for this one's gonna be a nightmare.

Bonus... Datamined from future DLC?? Sister Leona: P1: Okay, this booking is messed up. P2: Hell of a plot twist though. P1: Save it for the Pay Per View. Xiaoshing P1: Master always said to overcome thyself. P2: Somehow I'm not sure this is what she had in mind.

[Redacted]: P1: *sigh*, What stupid life choices have led me to this? P2: Heh, don't beat yourself up over it. P1: Oh very funny.

[Redacted]: P1: Did I get the spell wrong? P2: One of us sure did. P1: Ahh fuck.

[kyxhiin]

Shazam Family confusing the JL and immortal Billy combo post! (The Shazam fam will only include Freddy, Mary, and Billy. Sorry guys)

The Shazam Family confuses the JL by alot. And by alot it means "Cap' what the hell, what do you mean she's still alive??? HALF OF HER BODY IS GONE!" kind of way. For instance

The JL are on a mission, fighting some alien made robots that can "harm" the shazam fam so they had to be extra careful with this one. Mary Marvel was punching down these robots easily with Captain, until one of them got her from behind and.. BLASTED HER UPPER HALF OFF??? Marvel held her half limp lower half body, but despite all the blood was hollow?

Captain Marvel: Oh.. That can not be good. *In a super calm voice that can only be compared to adding too much water when cooking instant noodles.*

All the JL if not most stopped what they were doing and looked at cap and now the completely if not all with a solemn expression with a tinge of disgust. Flash approaching him first because, he's the fastest.

Flash: Hey man.. Are you alright? *He said, knowing no medical care could save her. CAUSE HER UPPER HALF IS GONE!*

Captain Marvel getting up, throwing Mary Marvel on his shoulder his smile returning but not as big as before: Upsy daisy! Sorry flash didn't meant to worry you all, let me just get her fixed up and she'll be ready to go. I'll be taking the rest of the day off.

And just like that he speeds off into the distance, holding the body parts of what once was Mary Marvel. Everybody's expressing their condolences from the day before for Captain Marvel, all dressed in black (except batman, he's always dressed in black.) with condolences gifts like letters, money (wait does he even need money?), food, flowers, and other sorry gifts.

...

Wait.. Is that Cap? AND IS THAT MISS MARVEL???? WHAT THE #!$!#!@#!?

They all aprouch Cap and Mary and start talking. Why aren't they mentioning the day before? Why are they both acting like everything's okay! And just like that nobody talks about it ever again.

(Does this count as immortal Billy? Lol, if not I'll re-do it. But now to the Freddy part.)

Captain and Jr have been arguing, arguing alot because SOMEBODY ate somebody else's banana bread muffins. And here's a thing, Cap's nice and happy go lucky to everybody, literally everybody including the villains all the time except for.. his children (That's what the JL assumes, lmao.)

Captain with his hands doing the sock puppet thing while Jr was talking to him: Nananana, that's what you sound like right now. Just admit you ate my muffins!

Green Lantern approaching Captain cause he overheard some of the stuff they were saying to eachother. Nudging Marvel to get his attention: Dude, hey. I don't think you can say that to your son-

Jr immediately cutting in cause he heard what Hal said cause he refuses to be called in any shape or form being younger than Marvel (it's the only thing he has against that tractor of a man when he's in his Marvel form, let him have this): Hey! I'm his OLDER brother thank you very much!

He said, loud enough so everybody can hear it. And the JL just stop their conversations and what they were doing, Just to look at Cap and Jr.

.

Hi hi, hope you enjoyed this even though this is not my regular posting schedule!!.

[promblums]

I know I haven't played a pokemon game in a while but god DAMN is the Scarlet/Violet final boss cool.

Like, you've known since like minute two that something is up with Professor Sada / Turo, but you get down to the bottom of this huge canyon expecting oh, the professor made a robot clone of their mind but it went cRaZy and the real professor is tied up somewhere. No.

The robot professor, it turns out, was the rational one of the two of them, watching as the person in whose image it was created slips further and further into obsession. It turns out that everything good you've seen in the AI Professor, THAT was the machine. The real Professor has been deeply bitter and increasingly misanthropic, extending way, way back into Arven's childhood, and maybe even before.

Said real professor is dead. Like, dead-dead. Real human dead. Not only that, they were murdered trying to protect one -raidon from another, one that attacked with full intent to kill. Was this a last, selfless act? Or was the professor so devoted to their work that they would die to protect it? We never get that context. It's gone. Have fun in therapy, Arven.

So then the AI Professor leads you to the time machine, looks you straight in the eye, and says, "Can I say 'you have to kill me' in a pokemon game? No? Aight, cool, so to shut down the time machine, I need you to 'not' kill me. Because I'm gonna try to 'not kill' you first."

And then they get lifted 200 feet into the air on a spire of glowing onyx beneath what I can only describe as a technological halo of malice, and they just start breaking the rules of pokemon. Like, they don't get down there and challenge you, ooh, I'm gonna fight ya for the future of poketmans. They stand on the prow of a pitch black heaven and drop living paradoxes on you. You typically get 1, maybe 2 master balls per game; Sada/Turo has an unending supply, perpetually pouring from the godseye above them. They don't even throw them. They just open their hand and let this rain of high-level pokemon fall out.

This is not a pokemon battle. This is you, an insect, being crushed by an uncaring god.

You get the feeling that, were it not hardcoded in by some earlier version of the professor who still had some respect for pokemon tradition, there's no way the possessed AI Professor would respect the 'only 6 pokemon' rule. And they don't! You somehow beat the odds, and you get all of five seconds to think you did something before the Paradise Protection Protocol kicks in and starts the battle right back up again.

And locks your pokeballs shut.

And sends out the -raidon that, as was previously established, has killed a human being before.

This is my favorite part of this fight, because up until now, we've been acclimating to the twist that the real Professor was deeply selfish, to the point of all but abandoning their own child.

Right before the fight, the AI Professor explains that they're going to get overpowered by the security system when you try to shut down the machine. Given the real Professor's obsessive nature, you're led to associate the security system with some remnant of the real professor, and once it takes over, the game starts getting fucky about the identity of the mind in the robot. Is this AI Turo/Sada, but with their free will turned off? Turo/Sada's mind imprinted over the robot's? Some weird emergent mind from the main computer?

Right after you beat the first fight, the 'fair' fight, you get this moment where the roboprofessor is glitching out hard, and its name changes from "AI Sada / AI Turo" to "Professor Sada / Turo?" RIGHT as it starts to express feelings, real feelings toward Arven, look how tall he's gotten, how proud of him they are. We can't know how the real professor felt about their son, but its all the things Arven always wanted to hear. Is it the robot, trying to be kind? Confused? Or is this a fragment of the real professor's mind bleeding through?

But at the same time, the Paradise Protection Protocol kicks in, which is also implied to be some sort of mind-imprint from the Professor, and tries to kill all four of the main kids to ensure the safety of the Professor's machine.

So, we've got two machines, both of incomprehensible power, fighting over the fate of time itself, and each one set up to be a reflection of a person we will never meet.

Which one do you think the professor was most like?