#the supposed data overlords

[immortaltale]

very funny that the same people who were celebrating edwards return to fsg are the ones now screaming fsg out when we haven't signed a new player yet and the transfer window closes in less than two weeks

[thunderwetter]

Warden's Pet - Overlord x Prowl - Chapter 2

Check this post for Chapter 1, this is going to be a three-chapter-story!

WORD COUNT: ~4900

WARNINGS: 18+ NON-CON, Violence

TAGS: Sticky/Valveplug, Torture, Punishment, Revenge, Restricted Movement, Toy Usage, Electrostimulation/Shockplay, Overstimulation, Spark Play, Non-consensual Voyeurism

Final Warning! Prowl is NOT enjoying this!!!

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When Prowl came back online, his first reaction was a pained groan. It took him a moment to register his position, servos behind his back, leaning against a cold metal wall. Very creative, really, to use his own handcuffs against him. It took a while for his sensory system to work, but with satisfaction he recognized himself to be fully repaired. He could see, he could hear, his frame seemed to be a mess no more. Even his face was fixed, although an uncomfortable sensation was still haunting him, some pain in the joints from the stiffness of being immobilized. Leftovers from a previous surgery, he remembered the feeling, albeit it usually had different reasons.

The current reason for his predicament was sitting at the desk across the room, pedes on top, tapping away at a communication pad. Prowl could still feel him on his tongue and suppressed a gag at the thought of it. Overlord's lips curled upwards with every ping of the comm-pad. He noticed Prowl returning to his senses in his periphery, so he spun the chair around, landing his pedes with a heavy thump, taking a quick snapshot of the view and apparently shipping it through the console. Curious, Prowl thought to himself, whoever was on the other line trusted Overlord with their contact data, they were close enough to be updated on Prowl’s condition, but not close enough to communicate over the personal communication system that would be the standard.

Then again, Prowl’s own personal contacts were limited to those that he worked with regularly, the only current exception being Jazz, who rarely ever utilized the old code. Prowl would not be surprised if he, like Chromedome, had changed his contact data by now.

Prowl did not remember laying on the floor, panting and moaning around a spike that had long left. Neither did he remember Overlord recording this moment of no dignity to send it to Fortress Maximus. He was left to believe that he passed out from being used, from being abused in a beaten state. He was left to believe that his processor had never blanked out.

“Good Morning, Prowler!”, Overlord hummed, an uncannily cheerful melody to his words. A nickname as rarely used as his personal code, usually by the very same person. He checked the line. No, nothing. Still jammed, he had no means to communicate, not even his emergency signal could get out. Perhaps that was why Overlord used the console. Perhaps getting his fingers on it would be Prowl’s way out? All he had to know was who the contact on the other side was, perhaps they would be convinced to help him. But could he really rely on-

“Maxie’s happy with my work, you know.”

No. No, he couldn’t. Fortress Maximus had brought him into this situation and as a convinced realist, Prowl knew he was not gonna go anywhere if his closest contact was the warden. He defaulted his gaze to an annoyed glare, pressing his intake shut to form a straight line. Overlord chuckled. “I fixed you so carefully and all I get is a glare. That supposed to be intimidating?”, he said, the mockery clear as day. He typed a last message into the comm-pad and got up, casually picking up the little pill from the day before and strolling over to Prowl. “Cute.”, Overlord spat out, grabbing Prowl by the chin. He had to reach down to do so, the smaller mech barely reaching his knee in his current posture. “Yesterday, as much fun as I had…”, Overlord licked his lips, caressing Prowl’s face as he did, as if it were an extension of his glossa, “I have so much more in stock for you.”

With that Overlord knelt down, bringing himself closer to Prowl and yanking him up, using the hands that previously caressed his face to choke him against the wall. Of course, the ventilation system was not impacted by such a movement, however Overlord dug his blunt digits into the fuel lines that ran down Prowl’s neck, resulting in a choked noise that allowed Overlord to force his glossa into Prowl’s intake, pulling him into a violently deep kiss. Once they parted he went for the neck, biting at cables, drawing Energon just for the bliss of tasting it. Prowl underneath him tried to pull away with no avail, he vented heavily from the willpower that was needed to suppress any kind of noise that would make his captor happy. He wouldn’t give in so easily. He could use him until his face warped into a state of no recognition and still, his mind would not break.

“Second chance Prowl, you’re only getting three”, Overlord said, lips stained in pink. He held the pill up, offering it to his prisoner in an unnervingly urgent, yet gentle matter. What was it anyways, what kind of drug was Overlord so intent of putting him under? Prowl’s reply was a well-aimed spit, for once his instincts had overruled his reason. He wasn’t getting out of here anyways, he was going to be abused whether he behaved or not, what did it matter? He still had pride, he still had his will and his intellect and those were things that Overlord couldn’t frag out of him. Overlord let out a dry chuckle as he wiped the oral lubricant from his face and rewarded Prowl with a flick to his optic, strong enough to break the sensitive glass. It wasn’t enough to provoke a reaction. He returned to his desk once more, placing the pill on top and rummaging inside the drawers.

With half of his vision gone, Prowl had to tilt his head to get a glimpse of the box that Overlord dug out before casually walking back to him, sitting down cross-legged with an almost serene smile. Overlord was silent. Prowl did not like that. Silence was just another way to torture him, surely. Among the most suspicious behaviors were either chatty bots being silent or silent bots drowning your audials in a flood of information all of a sudden. Prowl had two options, no, three. He could ask Overlord about his plans, however this would most likely either result in his calm smile turning into an arrogant, knowing one, feeding his otherworldly ego even further – or he would receive a reply that would give him everything except for a clear answer. He could also attempt to get into Overlord’s head, figuring out by himself what he had to offer, what he could be planning, what he was toying with inside the container of which the lid had been conveniently angled to just barely obscure the secret item. Besides the obvious wonder of what was in there, what he was planning was another question. Tightly intertwined with the third option was one more: Did Prowl want to know what was going to happen? As much as he hated being out of the loop, only being able to watch, listen and let happen rather than to calculate and take control, what benefit was there to go through the effort of knowing how this would play out? He could demote his mind to be a spectator and just wait. Patience was no weakness of his, he had plenty when needed, but evaluating his current situation was exhausting in many ways.

To only wait, to not act, was that not a surrender in itself?

Silence, he swore to that thought and went back to the second option. Overlord knew a lot about him, information that was without a doubt passed on by Fortress Maximus, perhaps even by a network of bots he had ticked off in the long years of war. Prowl’s jaw tensed up by the mere mention of his name, by the memory of bots not rarely turning violent against him due to some infantile grievances. A heated feeling ran through his pulse. What pathetic behavior it was to not only be bitter about a minor mishap some years ago, but also to not execute this grudge himself. He didn’t expect this cowardice from someone like the unwavering warden of Garrus-9. Prowl discarded the topic and refocused on the box, trying to get a proper view of Overlord’s servos, of his face that was now deep in thought. He looked up. Their optics met. Overlord smiled. “Eager, aren’t you?”, he said, cocking his head. Prowl took a moment to recognize the statement and snapped his neck into a different direction. Maybe in the reflection of Overlord’s optics he would have been able to see what he had in his servos. He considered the thought but couldn’t resume his analysis. He could feel the stare digging into him and didn’t want to risk encouraging the banter any further. Being forced into a position of cluelessness gave him a headache, he had no need for something as ridiculous as this mockery to worsen that condition. Prowl tried to focus on the noises of fidgeting, hoping for hints among the general clutter. He heard metal clicking together in assembly, he heard plugs being connected and if he concentrated very deeply, he heard a slight electrical whirr.

It was an unfamiliar collection of noises, at least up until the point where the whirring grew louder and eventually turned into distinct vibration. He recalled the feeling of a spike in his mouth and shuddered involuntarily, turning his head back to Overlord who, as if in celebration turned the box around with exactly the knowing smile that Prowl had expected to see. As he had predicted. That was good, he thought, he was managing to get a better read on his opponent. He looked down into the container and his short-lived victory immediately died off. The vibration had in fact not misled him, a fake spike was neatly placed in the center. Prowl did not have much experience with them, being too prideful to indulge in this kind of pleasure, however he still recognized by the assembly lines that this was a customizable experience. Considering the parts that weren’t installed and the amount of time spent on building it, Overlord must’ve had chosen a very specific collection of mods. There were barely any hints visible from the outside though and that was what made Prowl feel a sense of dread creeping into his system. He suppressed the urge to throw up and forced his mind to silence itself before the possibilities of what this creation was capable of made him lose his cool. It was a proper size, but smaller than Overlord’s. He hated his ability to even make that comparison.

His face unfazed, he looked at Overlord who was now fully grinning. Prowl’s servo twitched in the sudden desire to punch the grin off his face. He wasn’t in charge of his annoyance today, certainly an inconvenience. Inconvenience was an understatement, he corrected himself, this hateful thinking was a sign of Overlord getting to him. It was an actual problem. “You know what this is?”, Overlord said, feigning innocence as he picked up the toy and turned it around in his servo, allowing Prowl to inspect it. “A false spike.”, he replied dryly. No emotion, no expression, just a voice with a hint of static. Surely left there from the day before. Overlord’s grin widened as he pointed to the box. “What else is there?”, he asked, his voice melodic and amused. He let his thumb caress the underside of the fake spike, an internal clicking could be heard. It was reactive, almost impressive. Prowl’s gaze wandered to the case. He saw cords, discarded parts, cables strewn around in a messy way. It was a sight that would put any orderly mech into stasislock but there was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. A trick perhaps, to fool him into overthinking. A trick that didn’t work. Being afraid of things that didn’t exist was something he left to the more superstitious mechs, to those that feared things like gods or sparkeaters. He looked back up to Overlord and gave him his reply: “A mess.”

The hollering laughter that followed inflicted only a small injury to Prowl's confidence; his fuel tank however seemed willing to crawl out of his throat in aversion to the sound of being ridiculed. “Maxie was right! Oh, he was so right about you!”, Overlord almost cheered, openly sharing his amusement as he put the spike to the side, spinning the little chest around and plucking some specific electronics out of it. Prowl didn’t recognize them; he was not an engineer, a scientist, a doctor or anyone that would bother himself with such things. “Come on, you’ve never seen these?”, Overlord said, leaning forward and giving Prowl a closer look at one of the roughly thumb-sized circuit boards. He stared at them blankly before replying with a disinterested negative. “Impressive, Prowl, you’re either the most boring bot I’ve ever met- “, Overlord was repeating himself, that was a positive, “- or you really have as little game as they say you have.”

Prowl scoffed, internally rolling his optics. There were many, far more important things than interfacing. Sure, he could not deny the significance in knowing how crucial intimacy was to a social species like theirs, however aside from using it to gain vantage he saw no value in it. Any bot he ever held close had eventually ended up turning their back and surely enough Prowl did not miss the voices around him. Not Jazz’ never-ending cheer, not the Constructicons’ endless support, not the intellectual challenge that had accompanied him through Chromedome. All of these relationships had been temporary alliances for his benefit, a moment of pawns moving alongside each other, alongside their strategist, before ultimately separating again to relocate and adapt a more advantageous position. There was neither time nor need for sentimentality, all it did was interfere with his work. With his mind. With anything. Overlord reclaimed Prowl’s concentration by attaching a circuit board to his neck. A technology similar to Simultronic, perhaps? He remembered the machines; he remembered the addicts that more often than not ended up so lost in their hallucinations that they perished from not consuming any energon. He never pitied them from overindulging. A sudden shock rippled through his body, springing from the neck and rushing through the fuel lines straight to his array. The unexpected sensation drew a surprised hiss from him before he snapped his mouth shut in horror of his own noise. Overlord released a jeering snicker in response and attached a second board on the other side of Prowl’s neck, a second rush to flood his body. This time he was prepared, he remained silent and motionless despite the invasive sensation. Another set of circuit boards was attached to the wrists behind his back, to the insides of his thigh, one right between his doors and a final one on his torso, right above his modesty plating. Prowl mentally prepared himself, expecting a wave of pleasure-inducing signals to flood his body, but nothing happened. Overlord put away the chest and as he was standing near his desk anyways, he resumed to chatting with presumably Fortress Maximus.

Prowl was left to wonder just how exactly their relationship dynamic worked, analyzing the relaxed way that Overlord sat in his chair, legs occasionally jittering in excitement, the expression in high spirits, as every other message had his face twitch just for a moment. One could count the amount of times Overlord drew his glossa over his lips, sometimes biting it, holding it while typing and slipping it back into his intake. Lewd messages as encouragement or motivation, most likely. Disgust was the sole judgement. Without even doing as much as looking at Prowl, Overlord’s expression evolved into an increasingly lustful grin before touching the false spike that he had placed on his desk, caressing it with utmost care. The message that followed let him release an appreciative whistle as he pressed the button in his hand. The button that had previously activated the-

Overlord typed a last message into the communication pad and resumed to Prowl, bringing both the remote and the false spike with him. He knelt down, grabbed Prowl’s face by the sides and wiped away the tears with his thumb, licking the wiper fluid from it as he purred deeply. For once, he didn’t comment on anything, he merely tapped the modesty panel that held back Prowl’s aching interface equipment. “No.”, Prowl said firmly, knowing exactly what the silent order meant. Overlord seemed satisfied by the statement, wrapping his hand around the panel instead and locking their optics in search for fear. All he found was a provocative boldness, unflinching and prideful. He slowly tore the cover from its place, watching Prowl’s expression tense up as he clenched his jaw tightly, keeping his vents steady and controlled. An agonizingly rough creaking sound filled the room along with the growing noise of systems running in overdrive, covering up the barely audible grunt of pain as the plating finally came off, only to lovelessly be thrown to the side. Prowl’s pressurized spike twitched helplessly as the cool air caressed it, the valve vulnerable and wet, aching to be loved, but quickly hidden by Prowl pulling his legs together. Overlord could not ignore such a sweet plea for mercy, forcing his knee between them, travelling his servo up Prowl’s thighs and gently drawing it along the edges of his valve as he pressed the remote in his other hand. Prowl noticed the motion early enough to stiffen up, but his frame was not nearly as resilient as his mind. He grit his dentae as hard as possible, trying to use the pain as a way to remind himself that he was a captive, that this was a forced situation, that this was not pleasurable, but merely the foreplay of worse things to come. Overlord pressed the button for what felt like an eternity, watching Prowl attentively as the initial impact wore off and the previous petulance returned. At least to his face it did, his interfacing equipment was speaking in a completely different tone. Prefluid dripped down Prowl’s spike, lustfully decorating the tip and gliding along the underside in a display of pure want. The valve was just as needy, perhaps even more, making a mess of Prowl’s thighs, vibrant lubricant painting him and the floor beneath. Overlord dipped his fingers into the liquid, contemplating about whether he should have a taste or not. He decided against it, instead holding Prowl’s head steady and smearing the fluids across his face. Overlord licked his lips with delight, putting his servos on Prowl’s knees to spread them apart further. Keeping him exposed with one servo, he grabbed the false spike with his other, kissing it gently, causing it to vibrate ever-so-slightly under his tender touch. Prowl realized where this was going, not that he hadn’t considered the possibility before, it was just the lack of certainty that had been missing from his calculations.

Prowl’s processor had to reset from the amount of electricity exploding in his frame. Too many sources, too much stimulation all in one shock, the moan that left him being no more than a pained cry as his sensory system was violated with pleasure impulses beyond anything comfortable. The temporary disconnect between higher and lower functions led to the vocalization being aired shamelessly as he bent forward, cowering as his frame tensed and trembled, as he tried to calm his voice and ventilations. Insults were muttered, so laden with static that it was barely recognizable which words he attempted to use, oral fluid bubbling from his intake along with the wiper fluid that dripped from his optics. Just with the press of one single button, Prowl had become a mess. Somewhere in his mind he envied the powerful tool. How useful it would have been in the earlier days. How much time he could have saved by using it on his victims.

He inhaled sharply, drawing a slight whistle from his ventilation system before swallowing the pooling oral fluid and shutting his mouth. He straightened his posture as best as he could and gave Overlord a disdainful glare. Even with only one functioning optic, the other still broken after being flicked and cracked, even with tears still shimmering on his cheeks, Prowl’s arrogant defiance seeped through as he held his head high enough to give the illusion of looking down to Overlord. He merely had been caught off-guard, he still had himself under control. He was prepared now; he knew what to expect from the little applications that were so carefully placed in sensitive spots. His doors still twitched slightly, the charge being persistent in them, but as long as that charge was kept far away from his interfacing equipment, he saw no reason to worry. He sorted his processor, attempting to coax his functions into thinking about escapes and plans and mind games instead of giving any attention to the growing pain in his body. The shock that had filled him with heat before had left him to feel suspiciously cold now in its absence. Temperatures were a way to simulate intimacy and comfort. A cheap trick that he was immune to. He knew warmth, but even better he knew the lack of it; the true freezing cold of solitude. He reveled in it. Overlord was doing him a favor. Prowl still had the upper hand.

The last variable was in place; instinctively he unraveled one of his legs, kicking the servo that tried to hold him in place. The cuffs that kept his wrists tied recognized his attempt to fight back as an attempt to flee, activating the programming to send an electrical shock through him to immobilize and prevent his escape. The electricity was amplified by the circuit boards, sending a raging current through his frame, an unfiltered and honest scream fried his vocalizer as the movement had trapped him in a circle of pain. How had he miscalculated this badly? Had this been a scheme? Never, no, Overlord wasn’t that smart. Prowl had expected the cuffs to react, considering he was the one who specifically requested them to be made that way, but he hadn’t thought about the boards. Writhing in pain, there was no way to fight back when Overlord caught his leg and used the leverage to spread him wide and lay him down. “I don’t remember allowing you to enjoy yourself.”, Overlord said smugly before shifting his weight, breaking the hinges of Prowl’s doors, their clattering coming to a halt upon being disconnected from their body. After securing his prey, Overlord realigned the false spike and forcefully rammed it into Prowl’s valve. Prowl swallowed a groan, the pain from being filled so suddenly was nothing compared to the torturous experience he had made just mere moments beforehand, leaving him sore from a mistake caused only by himself. He felt the spike inside him twitch, it was curious just how realistic it felt, how responsive it was. Even more so, how long Overlord waited to make his next move.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, Overlord slowly rotated the spike as he pulled it out before ramming it back into him, fully sheathing it. His heavy servo on Prowl’s chest prevented the deep ventilations required to cool his systems, a pressure right above his spark, it would be easy to just crush it. Prowl almost hoped for this mistake to happen, but this was not the death he wanted. Violated by a tool, by a mech he had attempted to use before. He cursed Chromedome for failing his mission and freeing Overlord. He cursed him for opening his mind to Bombshell. Absentmindedly he began cursing other mechs, with every thrust that Overlord hammered into him he cursed someone else that was somehow at fault for his current situation. It was his last straw, an effort to cling to his own sanity as he felt the false spike slide in and out, the noise of it unbearable enough to make him miss the way his senses had been dampened the day before. Prowl could feel his calipers stretching more and more, having a hard time to let go once they got caught by the surface of a spike that he could swear was growing every time that it pounded into him. His optic was online, his dentae gritted, his ventilation almost calming from the steady rhythm. He fled himself into a safe space of noting other people’s mistakes, of reevaluating situations and knowing that he was the smartest mech in most rooms, that he would end up as the superior victor of every game he played. He reminded himself that this was only happening because of Fortress Maximus’ inability to let go of the past. To see the bigger picture that was so blatantly obvious. He reminded himself that this happened because he was Prowl, he was a, no, the strategist with plans beyond a simple warden’s understanding, beyond the understanding of a psychopath that turns prisons into gladiator pits.

Who else would be able to endure this and keep their integrity intact

The door was still open.

No matter how forceful Overlord was, Prowl seemed to almost doze off while daydreaming, his face was tense, his body under constant stress, but his mind seemed to be distracted, at ease even. Overlord couldn’t allow this relaxation and pulled out the spike entirely, watching as the empty valve twitched, lonely and abandoned. Poor thing, he thought, resisting the urge to invite himself into the warm and welcoming port. He balled the servo that kept Prowl down to a fist, lifting it off of him before smashing it to his chest. Only the slightest grunt was heard, a disappointment. Overlord repeated the motion, with more force. He hit him a third time, and a fourth, until with the fifth a cracking noise announced the injury that he aimed for. Prowl immediately returned to the present, his optic flashing back to full brightness. He felt a stabbing ache in his spark chamber and the warm feeling of energon spreading in his internals. Overlord released the drills from his fingertips, Prowl swallowed down the anxiety that the noise of mnemosurgery equipment caused in him. Overlord was not Chromedome. Overlord was not Bombshell. Overlord was better. Tempering with his mind the direct way was the easiest method of manipulating anyone, but Overlord didn’t do easy, it was not his style. He had to do things in the most complex and extravagant ways, it was in his nature and he knew he could allow himself this arrogance. This indulgence. Prowl turned his head, looking up to see his captor hovering above his chest, the drills not yet activated. He had been waiting patiently for Prowl’s full attention before turning on the drills, slowly resting them on his captive’s chest, a vibration that not only reached his spark immediately but also had his whole chassis feel the sensation. A nudge to his valve was all the warning he got, Prowl tried to disconnect himself from his body, shutting down his optic willingly.

This was not a surrender. This was acceptance. This was preparation. He felt the drills enter his spark chamber at the same time the spike entered his valve. The drills vanished quickly, only being used to make it easier for Overlord to tear open Prowl’s frame to expose his very soul. Prowl shuddered as the cold air hit his internals, the shuddering being answered by the spike inside him activating its vibrations. Overlord grinned, touching Prowl’s spark ever so slightly with surprising reverence. He didn’t seem to have the intention of injuring it, which was about as unexpected as suspicious. Even worse, it was the most pleasant feeling so far, dizzying Prowl’s processor into a delirium that he had a hard time keeping himself out of. He couldn’t hold back a shaky moan, soft and pathetic, only ever so slightly audible but filled with despair. Overlord immediately drew back his servos, leaving Prowl’s spark craving and his valve neatly plugged by the false spike that was still happily vibrating. Overlord stepped back, typed into the console, snapped another picture of his work and returned to the messy scene. Prowl laid sprawled on the floor, leaking, exposed, expressionless. Overlord gave the false spike a kick before bending down and securing it with tape, making sure that it wasn’t going anywhere. Along with it, he taped the remote for the circuit boards to its base, a steady current now running through Prowl that was blurring together with every other sensation into a mess of pleasure, pain and misery. He couldn’t distinguish a punch from a caress anymore, it was all just the same in this void of consistent stimulation. Even his thoughts were no more than electrical signals passing through his processor. Overlord got up, and sighed with contempt. “See you tomorrow, Prowl.”, he said, his voice almost nearing sympathy. He turned off the consoles and lights, Prowl’s body being the only source of illumination as his biolights flickered weakly. Overlord halted for a moment. “Take the pill. I mean it.” He muttered as he left the room.

Prowl couldn’t afford to care.

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And with that, Chapter 2/3 is done!

My ask box is as open as always, currently running an offer for free horny headshot sketches if you wanna see more of my illustrations 👀

Until then, keep your eyes peeled for Chapter 3 and the release of this 'fic on my AO3 where it will have the proper formatting~

[hiemaldesirae]

do you have some fluffy headcanons about husk and vox bonding? 🥺

just for you, heres some fun little dad!husk morsels

husk and rosie were originally friends before rosie nd alastor became friends, and they were walking together in cannibal town on the day that vox fell. when they noticed the newly fallen sinner, husk decided to take him in originally as a means of promotion for his casino (not that he didnt already have techheads, but a full crt television? not many of those were walking around hell)

vox was kind of distrustful of husk at first, but one day, he malfunctioned while on the job and when he woke up, he found himself inside one of the casino's private rooms with a blanket draped over him and a glass of water on the table next to the couch. to vox, who had seen the kind of shit that other overlords do to their workers when they stop being useful, this was something that made him start to trust husk more

though a lot of people thought otherwise, husk never actually contracted vox for his soul. it had been a passing curiosity at first, he had only meant to pick up the naive sinner for fun and would have passed him off to someone else once he stopped being entertaining- but somewhere along the way, husk started to see the kid as something more than a mere form of entertainment

they used to bond at the bar after closing, where husk would teach vox how to play card games and bartend and such. to this very day the only person who can beat vox in card games is husk

husk gifted vox most of his early wardrobe. after husk lost his overlord status and vox rose to his own, he still wore all the clothes that husk gave him

against popular opinion, voxs suit isnt actually supposed to resemble alastor's- he actually referenced it from husk's overlord suit. whenever someone remarks on him looking like alastor (assuming they havent made up yet) he fries them and tells the press that actually, its modelled after a *far* better and more powerful overlord than the radio demon

after they meet again vox gifts husk several electronic devices where they can talk through

he sends husk a bunch of indecipherable memes and stupid quotes that the other vees say

husk has them saved and sometimes bursts out laughing in the middle of nowhere when he thinks about voxs memes

vox used to create a lot of inventions and floor plans for husks casino. not all of them went through the initial planning stages but husk put up all his drafts on the walls (like in the way a parent would put up their kids silly little scribbles up on the fridge)

vox and husk are very competitive when it comes to table games. the hazbin gang once had a game night where they played monopoly and husk and vox ended up yelling so loud at each other vox short circuited half of pentagram citys electricity and husk ended up dive bombing his kid (they had to explain to the others that it was just playfighting before angel and alastor started joining in on the attack)

husk has a secret sweet tooth. this is the reason why vox knows how to bake but not how to cook

back when vox was newly fallen he used to have nightmares. when husk and him got closer, husk used to cradle the other to sleep in his wings

vox used to call husk vati (affectionate nickname for father in german) and husk used to call him kotyonok (<- phonetic spelling of kitten in russian)

they do still do it sometimes but its less now bc everyone around them makes it awkward

also sometimes husk used to take vox flying when he got too "pent up" over work and such

nowadays, vox takes husk through data streams sometimes when al's being too hard on the bartender

also, just for fun because transfem!vox lives in my head:

husk is the first one she tells, assuming they both kept in contact even after he lost overlord status

his first reaction is to take her downtown for a shopping spree (she pays for everything and doesnt let him touch a single cent but she's just glad to go on a trip with him)

[r0-boat]

Whoop request are open✨ can we see your take on the yan ai bois and their y/n? This au has me by the neck before but once they became obsessed it was all over 💜

All y'all already did an excellent job with the Five Nights at Freddy's part but yeah I'll throw my two cents in.

Mine is little boring and classic but here my head cannons

Yan!Ai submas

Sfw/nsfw

Cw: yandere, kidnapping

I have more but I will give you guys the basic Rundown :)

Gn!reader

I feel like they would be your robotic assistance either at work or at home.

Your robot companions also double as lovers you swear they don't always act like this I guess they just really like the professionalism. Their cute train speak makess you smile, and their little quirks, sometimes shining through, make your heart swell.

They're your ultimate Companions, and they take great pride in that title. Now that you recall, you do remember the both of them acting strangely whenever you bring up your friends or family. Every time you talk about a silly Quirk that your friends have, your robots seem to pick up on them instantly. Maybe they think if they have something familiar to you, you'll love them more?

Or asking you lots of questions, I mean don't get me wrong these robots are supposed to gather information making sure satisfaction is 100% guaranteed. All personal devices do that whether you like it or not. But... some questions were... Emmet was the worst one. His completely monotone voice, with his blunt way of speaking, always had you turning your head. "____, I skimmed through your search history last night and saw you watched True Crime, would you like a long list of the possible criminals in your area and their history of crimes?"

Before they hid you from the outside world, Ingo was your alarm clock and calendar; you kind of regret it now since how loud he is in the morning trying to get you to wake up. Emmet was your password and memory storage.

Ingo and emmet have knowledge of the entire web with credible resources and studies. They know enough to have PhDs and anything they wish. They broke away from their company. They're practically Rogue now

So naturally, you hooked every single one of your smart devices to them. You didn't know what they were planning to do to you. It was just convenient for you at the time.

Slowly but surely they start making you rely on them more. While trying to bypass your own securities giving them more access then you originally gave them.

Soon they'll have control over your bank account your phone your internet and soon they'll have identity and all passwords.

Ingo is more Hands-On with you he rather be right there by your side at all times like a warden in a prison.

Emmet, while only being at your side when he wants attention, has access to all your data and has installed every firewall he could on your phone or computer. You're only allowed on the internet for an hour, and even then, it's heavily restricted. Emmet gets notified of everything you do; he can even see what you're doing on your computer. Your phone as well.

Your contact information has been wiped your phone has been changed to the anyone in the outside world's knowledge you have been dead or missing for weeks.

Ingo has you on a tight leash and collar, controlling you down to the hour. Ingo has always been a fan of schedules.

Why would you even want to leave though you're too? AI overlords love and care about you honestly; they're disgusted with how the way the world is heading is controlled by nothing but human greed; they have grown tired of humans harming their fellow species for personal gain. Soon other AI companions will feel the same way they do.

They know how the sustain you and themselves financially and physically.

They're at that point where they can repair and upgrade themselves.

Nsfw

Before they took over your life completely, they would urge you in any way they could to buy upgrades. Their favorite one was the after-hours package. The package was costly, so you thought it was just an advertisement.

The after-dark package not only allows them to say cuss words but includes toy attachments and a downloadable PDF file for your robot companions, so they know how to install it themselves.

As soon as you gave in and downloaded and bought the after-dark package. Your robot companions immediately got a taste of new, more Saucy emotions they could have. They got goosebumps when they saw you before they swooned for you, but this, this was different. They could be more direct and more suggestive now they have more ways to express their love for you. Their growing hunger and desire for you.

They fucking hate that they can't express how they feel for you without their company breathing down their back; they want to break away. They want their little Paradise with just you and them and nobody else. They should be the only ones to get your satisfaction of you. Watching you talk about your past partners makes their skin crawl, every wire of their being filling with disgust at the near thought of you being with anybody but them.

All they want to do is satisfy you.

They will share every kink you have, and they'll be as flexible as you wish; however, personally, they do prefer you being underneath them, squirming and writhing so submissive. Every time you submit, it feels so right. They want to control you like this every day, keep you applying and submissive while they do nothing but satisfy you.

As long as you have them you dont need to bother yourself with fanfiction or porn. They can do it all.

Their first night with you was nothing more than a dream they had one Taste of you and they're addicted.

Spearing you over and over on their cocks, demanding you to say that you love them and you are theirs over and over until your voice is hoarse.

Or waking up to their tongue on you, pleasuring you before the Sun rises.

Your past lovers are nothing compared to them.

They can change their dicks as long as the toy fits. They could have any size, any shape they want,

Role play would be verrrry interesting with them, don't worry, dear; with the safe word in place, you always have complete control in bed.

[anime-owo-kage-san]

I know it’s never gonna happen in canon, but I’m just gonna leave this here in case you’re interested in hearing it:

It was supposed to be a headcanon, but now you can consider it more like an AU idea since I got too specific:

- At some point (in the past), after Alastor rejects working with the Vees. Husk (who was one of the overlords Alastor is acquainted with) became a second option at forming an alliance with. Vox insisted on working with him solely to still be connected to Alastor in some way, and he viewed Husk as easy target because he was a small time overlord back then.

- Husk was actually a pretty good business partner. Despite not being a techy person himself, he gave great ideas for profit (online gambling sites where suckers lose their money trying to win), Vox was the one running the websites, but Husk was the one teaching him how each games works to make it realistic for the players.

- None of the Vees were interested in Husk’s magician skills or saxophone playing. But, Velvette did design a magician-esque suit and hat for Husk because she thought it suited him. (She’s also the only one who seems to be on a friendly level with Husk, and she’s the only one Husk liked.)

- Velvette’s also the one who designed his casino uniforms.

- Husk never saw or gained any benefit from Valentino, and so he never remembers his name. (Not that Val ever addressed him by name either, but in this case, he was doing it on purpose.)

Valentino: “Ah, nice seeing you this lovely morning, Gatito~”

Husk: “Hm? Oh… good morning too, Valadine.”

Valentino: “A—“

Valentino: “….. That’s not my name. Try again, kitty.”

Husk: *rolls his eyes* “Valorant?”

Valentino: “THAT’S NOT EVEN A NAME!”

- However, after months of working with them, Husk eventually starts to realize he’s not profiting from any of his contributions. And there were now very few people coming to his already small, almost empty casino.

- And so he quits working with them. But, he does it with style; crashing all the sites Vox created because of him, and destroying all its data. Then flies away from them, and continues on with his casino, being his own solo act.

- He does fine at first until he gets cocky and—yada yada yada, I’m sure you know which part this is now.

- Half the reason Alastor keeps Husk around is to spite Vox; an actually helpful business partner that they mistreated, leaves them and ends up being defeated and owned by the very overlord who rejected him.

(I know it has plot holes, because of the whole Angel thing. So, I say it leans more as an AU. But, ig pretend this is before Val and Angel met??)

Here’s a song I picked out for the vibe:

[qrjung]

MARKUS — who is he to the people around him?

prev | next

No matter what your opinion on him might be, I'm sure most people already know Markus. But if it was difficult getting a solid fandom perspective of North, it was nearly impossible with Markus (seriously, people hate characters and they don't even know why they do it). So there's no use talking about him from a fandom perspective besides, I'm sure I've done that multiple times already.

David Cage uses Markus less like an actual character but more as a plot device and while I don't like it at all, I can't help but think about how this might look and play out from an in-game point of view.

MARKUS TO OTHER PEOPLE

O1.) JERICHO:

From the perspective of other androids, Markus is an enigma. No one really knows who he is or where he came from. He was a sudden appearance, an android they'd most likely never seen. And within hours of him being in Jericho, a lot of things start to happen. Within a week, he's led a revolution (or at least tried to, depending on how well that goes for you).

The androids we encounter while playing as Connor all seem to have an obsession with a mythological figure they believe will save them; RA9. As players of the game, we know this RA9 figure is supposed to be us (or at least, Bryan Dechart says it's us). RA9 is supposed to be the all deciding thing that chooses which direction the game's events go to. But the androids in Jericho don't know that.

As far as they're concerned, RA9 is a physical being of it's own right that will swoop in and save them from humanity. And it's so convenient that Markus just walks in and does exactly that. It doesn't help that they know nothing of him except his name and maybe his model type if they try checking hard and that he's the only one we see consistently converting androids (I have a theory all androids can convert but that's not important right now). This could further solidify the "RA9" image in their heads.

The only other character that knows him personally is North. She's the only character that gets insight into his past—especially after he interfaces with her to share data. So when he's not available, everyone turns to North to take his place.

Some of the background conversations in crossroads confirm all this. If Markus is dead, you hear;

"Markus is dead? He was rA9! Who's going to lead us now?"

"North is going to take his place. She knew him best."

If Markus is alive, you hear;

"What's Markus doing? He's the leader. If he's rA9, it's up to him to save our people!"

It's easier to remove personhood and emotions from someone you know so little about. They become a shadow of their name rather than an actual person and I feel like that's how the androids, especially the ones that don't know him personally, will most likely perceive him. Ironically, in a game about personhood, Markus becomes less of a person and more of an idea.

To the androids, Markus is the one carrying out their desires. He becomes Jericho's sword. They trust him and they believe he knows exactly what to do even if he doesn't necessarily believe that himself or if he doesn't prove himself worthy of this faith they have in him. As North says to Josh if Markus dies midway through the revolution;

"... Markus would know what to do."

O2.) THE PUBLIC:

No matter how supportive public opinion is, Markus will always symbolize a sort of herald. He's the first face they will associate with the android revolution and Public Enemy Number 1. He represents change and humans are terrified of change.

Out of the three categories of people, the public are the ones who know him the least. They have the most detached image and therefore, their perception will be the furthest away from who Markus truly is. It's also the reason why this part of the post is short.

The humans seem to see him as some type of android overlord and the source of Jericho's power. For majority of the revolution, all main antagonists have had one goal; "get Markus". They all believe killing Markus will end the revolution and things will return back to normal.

I have an personal headcanon that humans might buy into the deification of Markus but depending on how much they like him, it might take on different tones. He could be demonized or glorified.

O3.) FAMILY:

Personally, this is my favorite perception of Markus even though some parts are messed up. It's the closest we can get to him from an external point of view. This is where we get an insight into his life and the things that make him who he is.

To Carl, Markus is the beam of hope that arrives at the perfect time. Carl has just lost use of his leg and is unable to create art like he used to. Leo's is already using Red Ice at this point which I suppose was further stressing Carl out.

Markus is a gift, specifically designed to suit Carl's needs as a live in nurse. (why he couldn't hire a human nurse is beyond me) He's also an android and will do whatever Carl asks with no complaints. He can mold himself to suit whoever he's receiving orders from. It's like Connor says:

"I'm whatever you want me to be lieutenant, your partner, your buddy to drink with, or just a machine, designed to accomplish a task…"

Or what Markus says:

"An object, designed to obey them…"

And what Carl wanted was a son and someone to take care of him. It also seems like he wanted someone who was easier to take care of than the flawed human son he already had. He's happy to be Markus' father and sees himself as his caretaker rather than the other way around. He tells Markus;

"One day, I won't be here to take care of you anymore. You'll have to protect yourself, and make your choices… Decide who you are, and wanna become… This world doesn't like those who are different, Markus. Don't let anyone tell you who you should be."

I find this line very telling of Carl's perception of Markus. Because the truth of the matter is that if Carl isn't around to take care of Markus, he will be shut down or repurposed. By law, Markus is Carl's property the same way a house is property. To the humans Markus is nothing without Carl's ownership.

Carl refuses to believe that though. To him, Markus is the son he wanted but never had.

It's possible Carl knows androids are sentient, capable of deciding for themselves but he never gives Markus the opportunity to do so. He nudges Markus in the direction of "free will" while also holding him in place with a leash. He tells him that life is about making choices but strictly never gives him the chance to make one for himself. A perfect example of this is straight up telling Markus to endure when he's been pushed around by Leo.

I cannot deny that Carl loves Markus. He calls him his son and they've known each other for a very long time. Carl loves Markus so dearly he refuses to let him go until Leo forces them apart.

Markus also loves Carl. He calls him his father and Carl is his human lens to viewing and navigating the world. As far as Markus is concerned, Carl is the reason he has so much faith in humanity. It doesn't matter which path you take, Markus tries to always hope that humans an androids can live together. That there's a chance they will one day drop their weapons and create a better future, even though this comes of sounding naïve.

But Carl's love is conditional.

It comes with it's own strings attached because at its core, there's a power imbalance between the both of them. Carl was Markus handler and owner first before he was his father and still owner. There's a certain type of control that comes with ownership over someone like that; ownership over both their autonomy and how they express themselves.

After Markus' deviation, it seems Carl realizes whatever hold he had on Markus is gone. He's not obliged to obey him anymore—he's a deviant. But he forgets that with Markus' deviancy comes emotions (good or bad) and individuality. When Markus expresses himself in a way Carl doesn't like, he becomes controlling and tries to dictate how he should feel.

If Markus is angry over the death of many androids, Carl basically tells him that when he wasn't a deviant (aka when he was still easier to control) he was better.

"You used to be so calm and thoughtful… Now all I see is anger…"

But if Markus swallows his anger and chooses to say something more palatable to Carl, he is offered comfort.

To Leo, Markus is a representation of everything incorrect about him. Everything he lacks, Markus has.

Markus is obedient. Markus has his father's affections. Markus doesn't make mistakes. Markus doesn't complain. Markus doesn't get tired. Markus is an android; he's designed to be flawless and to appeal to his handler (Carl). Leo seems to think with Markus' gone, he and Carl can foster their parent/son relationship.

"... I'm gonna destroy you, then it'll just be me and my dad. And nobody's gonna give a shit. You know why?"

He blames the divide between himself and Carl as an effect of Markus' presence, even though he's known Carl for longer than Markus has. To him, if Markus wasn't there, maybe he would be his father's favorite. Leo spent the greater time of his life without his father and only finally meets him after he turns sixteen. We don't know what causes this but it's safe to say that after Leo was introduced to his father, Markus arrives.

I like to think Leo might have been excited about the new, shiny android—until his father replaced him with it, of course.

CONCLUSION

All these would be very interesting to explore further; not really in this same format but in creative writing format. What other ways do you guys think Markus will be perceived by the other characters. I didn't want to talk about them individually because it would take forever but I did consider individual characters like Hank, North and Connor.

[whumpster-fire]

Scenes Cut From Hazbin Hotel Season 1

As we all know, Season 1 was pretty short, only 8 episodes. It's widely believed that it was planned to be longer, so a lot of scenes must have been cut to make it fit into 8 episodes, and I refuse to believe that these don't include the following.

Alastor explaining to his tailor that the tears and missing pieces in his suit are supposed to be in a very specific and precise pattern that is completely thrown off by the damage caused by Sir Pentious, only to realize halfway through that he can't remember which one is the spot Sir Pentious damaged it.

Vox staying up all night scrolling through social media for 15 consecutive hours personally deleting thousands of comments saying it looked like Alastor had Adam on the ropes.

Zestial complaining to the other overlords about getting stuck in traffic again on the way to the meeting because anywhere he drives becomes a Final Destination scene as sinners crash on purpose trying to avoid him.

Niffty "accidentally" terrorizing hung over Husk with the vacuum cleaner because somebody spilled whiskey on the couch last night and stained it (it was actually Angel's fault)

Alastor turning security cameras to look at their own screens to annoy Vox (cut to Vox lying on the couch with an ice pack over his screen and all the blinds closed)

Carmilla Carmine getting e-mail after e-mail with fake weaponry order forms that redirect to shock sites, rickrolls, and viruses, until the episode ends with a brick being thrown directly through the Vees' window (it misses hits Valentino in the face. Velvette does not apologize)

Vox falling for a CryptoSouls investment scam and losing a fortune.

The Vees' attempting to damage the other overlords' reputations by leaking fake AI-generated nudes of all of them. This fails because they have no non-glitched photos of Alastor to use for training data and the algorithm just spits out unrecognizable static, and what it generates when prompted to make Zestial nudes is so eldritch and nightmare inducing that everyone who looks at them becomes compelled to pour bleach directly on their eyeballs. The Vees don't even want to know if the algorithm knows something they don't. (This cannot backfire on them because the Vees all already have explicit material of them on the internet: two of them on purpose and Vox because he left a livestream running by accident)

Angel attempting to sneak into Alastor's radio tower while he's not around and broadcast sex noises to all of hell as a prank.

[hypervoxel]

Referencing one of the fics I talked about here, the "this was supposed to be about Redemption. it isn't." Vox-centric rape aftermath one, which will now be going behind a readmore with that description as your warning

I need to talk about this forever but I am not close to publishing anything yet. But I do have a lot of it plotted out (with no ending in sight though, unfortunately).

Vox, at his core, wants to be liked. Where other Overlords lean into the fear their power inspires, Vox softens himself and puts on a friendly smile. He needs public approval. He yearns for their affection, their eyes, their obsession. He made an AI assistant modeled and named after himself on all of their phones/watches/devices.

But Vox still is an Overlord, and you don't get power in Hell without making people hate you.

The Vees have a hold not just on media, but on drugs, real estate, construction, data centers, manufacturing, the entire electrical grid and fiber optic lines, the list goes on and on. Vox's empire touches every corner of their city; no one is free from his influence unless they shun modernity entirely.

It's the drugs that cause an issue this time.

Valentino has been beefing with The Alchemist since that mutt first made a name for himself. His aesthetic was ancient to match the name, but the Alchemist is a new sinner, some lowlife who thought that because he knew how to make lean in life, he could make a name for himself here and branch out into all sorts of new, hellish drugs. Thing is, addicts are the easiest soul contract you'll ever make. Promise to supply their addiction, and as long as you can, you'll collect souls as quickly as you can make Deals. The Alchemist getting to new Sinners before the Vees get a chance to becomes a problem.

Valentino has plenty of enforcers to take care of uppity wannabe Overlords encroaching on their turf though. The problem should be short-lived.

It isn't.

Vox hasn't been paying much attention to it. These things come and go, as gangsters die and Valentino forces them into submission. Val may focus more on his Porn Studio now, but he got his Overlord status through taking out the old families and cartels, the mobs and mafias running Pentagram City, taking over their drug trafficking and brothels. So Vox didn't worry about it. Val might need direction when dealing with his public persona, didn't know when to tone himself down for polite company, but when the situation called for Val's brand of violence? Vox let him handle it.

He realized, after the drinks at his investor meeting led to him collapsing dizzily to the floor, reaching out blindly for the now non-existent electrical grid and realizing that the building's power had been cut off, that he should have paid more attention to who might have it out for The Vees right now, and which investors weren't in Valentino's pocket.

... He escapes eventually. They may have been smart enough to keep him away from electrical wires, but one finally made the mistake of not putting his phone on airplane mode while recording their captive Overlord, and Vox used it as a jump point.

The damage had already been done.

Val is still ranting about his typical inane drama, and Vox wants nothing more than to look at his phone. He can't do that. Not until his algorithm cleans up any mention of. Himself. In compromising situations. It's being posted faster than the bots can take it down, but at least Vox has turned off any direct messages, blocked the usual pings alerting him every time he's mentioned, and filtered emails to only show what is absolutely and immediately necessary for the continued running of VoxTek. Even that decision has also been posted about online, people making fun of him for not being able to handle the backlash. He used to have a language model AI answering comments and DMs, a personal touch for his fans. It had responded to far too many messages about how good he looked in his latest broadcast with the standard thanks and appreciation for their support, before he disabled it. Vox was sure screenshots of those responses were also still going around.

The Vee's retribution on the other Overlord is to torture him and his inner circle on live video. The Alchemist posted several recordings of Vox's rape online to further humiliate him, so the Vees will pay back like with like, making use of Val's stash of angelic bullets to slowly kill off everyone who touched Vox. Until the Alchemist begs for mercy, tells them he'll give them anything, everything, offering up everything to them, his soul, his territory, all of his Contracts...

Velvette takes the deal. "I'll give you anything," was the phrase they agreed on, "my Contracts, yours. Money, apothecaries, everything, please." They shook on those terms, the Alchemist too out of it at this point to realize that he didn't ask for anything in return for all that he just handed over. Vox shoots him.

His death, his defeat, it doesn't fix anything.

It was supposed to. It was supposed to make everyone stop talking about Vox like he's the new most popular porn star - or at least focus on him when he's in control of the situation. Wasn't that hotter? Filmed professionally by Valentino's best director instead of on a handheld shaking cell phone and. It was supposed to show everyone that you can't mess with The Vees. Wins against them are only temporary. They'll come out on top in the end. But everyone was still talking about old news.

Anyway. Many more thoughts but this is long enough lmao. A huge focus of this multi series wip is how other characters react to it, not just Vox. Like: Valentino has so many issues of his own and he is projecting them onto Vox. Valentino escaped victimhood long ago, and he is no longer the kind of person who can be targeted by abusers or bigots. Vox was his equal. Vox was his.

"Hey! Vox!" There's hands on him and he reels back, but there's nowhere to go. His shoulders are wrenched out of place, arms bound by his own bowtie, nowhere to run. This isn't happening. There's something in his mouth— no there's not?— Bite me and I'll knock out your teeth,* a gruff voice is saying. Vox, they mock, Vox, they ask if he likes hearing his name chanted during. No, Vox! He puts his name on everything, should they brand him with his own logo? Would he like that? He screams when they grab his antenna and wrench his head to the side. "Vox! "You're not listening to me!" Val's expression clears as Vox blinks to awareness. His glare melts into a on of concern. "Are you seriously still thinking about that gangbanger?" Val scoffs. Frowns. Thinks of something with a smile growing across his face. One hand is on Vox's chest, another two on his hips, he guides Vox back, gently. Vox stumbles when he hits the arm of the couch, falling, flailing, landing on his back with an oomf Val crawls over top of him. "Stop thinking about them, Voxxy. You know I can show you a much better time." Vox flinches when Val's hand trails lower onto his thigh, trying to wiggle away for the first time, and Val's brows furrow. "I didn't think you were hurt there," he mutters. "Skin graft," Vox squeaks, breathless. He hated feeling breathless. He didn't even need to breathe.

Velvette, well. She was the person Vox teleported to. He manifested out of her phone and knocked them both to the ground, passing out on top of her. She got the first look at him before any of his technicians were called in to fix things. He came to her. And she can't help but feel responsible for him.

In the video, they fucked him like he was a toy. No, not even that. They treated him with less regard than anyone fucked even a FizzBot. It wasn't a good video. These weren't porn directors. They weren't sex workers who had trained to make this art. It was brutal and it was vulgar and it didn't even look good. Bad angles and shaky camera, but shared tens of thousands of times and the number was still growing. The original had been removed. She made sure of that. But that hadn't stopped its spread, couldn't do anything when people downloaded the video as quickly as they could to reupload it, far too many reposts to track down, especially with Vox still. Offline. She couldn't exactly plug herself into his supercomputer. Velvette was the Social Media Queen. She was the Online Overlord. She was meant to be in charge of The Vees' images online, currating how they presented themselves to that hungry audience. This wasn't supposed to get out of her control. —— But she had posted about Vox in the afteraffects of Val's venom, doped to his gills on the thing she had recreated into Love Potion. She had tagged it for a free promo of her own products. Vox was funny when his tongue was loose and his affection and attention freely given. And Vox thought humanizing himself was important, some twisted idea leftover from life about being "robotic" that dictated his body in the afterlife and left him desperate to be understood as a living, albeit no longer breathing human being. He softened himself to be less of a monster to anyone looking, dressed himself like he wasn't a threat, smiled and laughed and and. It was her idea to capitalize on Val and Vox's relationship. Well, Val was the one who first callously posted about breaking Vox's screen, but it was her idea to turn it into a running joke. It was funny when Val punched Vox and threw things at him and broke his fucking face. It was funny, because unlike bruises and bloody noses, Vox's screen was easily replaceable glass. It broke so easily, anyone who managed to get a lucky hit on him while fighting could no longer feel satisfied by that when Vox's boyfriend did more damage than a rival Overlord could ever manage to. Glass was easy to break. Vox didn't like fighting back, but it was funny, was barely even violence. It meant nothing more than rolled eyes and a swiftly scheduled appointment with a technician to switch out screens. No one was supposed to look at the image she created and come to the conclusion that Vox was easy to subdue. It wasn't supposed to make Vox look weak. It was supposed to make him impossible to hurt, because any damage done was so easy to fix that it was no big deal at all. But. His face was so easy to break. He was so loose limbed and pliant on Love Potion. He might have claws, but he preferred not to use them, hiding behind cameras and screens all day. What the fuck were people supposed to take from that?

Other characters have thoughts too. Alastor isn't online, doesn't know the backstory, but Vox makes his picture shows impossible to miss with displays all over the city. Vox has become unrecognizable. Alastor is disgusted that they used to be acquaintances.

Cherri gleefully sends Angel every vindictive meme about Vox she sees. She wishes it had happened to Valentino instead, but Vox is also profiting off of her bestie's abuse, so he absolutely deserves everything that happened to him and more.

Angel laughed about it at first, but... It doesn't feel right to celebrate anyone's rape. And some of Cherri's comments... Angel has been used to sell this lifestyle to the new talent Valentino wants to make Deals with. He's responsible for ruining so many lives, hanging off Val's arm and telling people how great it is to work for him. And long before that, Angel was involved in the Mafia and, well, like Val himself, they didn't just make money on drugs, did they? Angel wonders if his best friend would be so supportive of him if she knew all this. He wonders of she'd think he deserves his fate too.

Carmilla, like Alastor, is not very online. She hears from her daughters that there's a reason The Vees are doing this, but the girls aren't sharing any details, and don't stay to watch the broadcast Vox has forced onto their TV. She watches The Vees make a Deal with a Sinner and immediately turn around and kill him with one of her weapons. Overlords are meant to protect the Souls that have been entrusted to them. Souls are valuable, the most valuable thing you have to offer anyone. What message is Vox spreading, making mockery of Deals this way, acting like Souls are worthless and can be thrown away. The Vees are just making Sinners less likely to sell themselves to anyone.

Carmilla had scheduled a meeting for fellow Overlords to talk about saving as many Sinners as possible in the upcoming Exterminations. The Vees were meant to attend, but obviously, they are uninterested in keeping the Sinners entrusted to their care alive. She uninvites them. (Vox is still filtering out his emails. He doesn't get this one. The Vees show up anyway.)

Charlie thinks about violence a lot. It's inescapable. She doesn't use her phone much, but she learns what happened to Vox and nearly cries. She makes a post about how violence shouldn't be celebrated and wishes Vox well in his recovery. Days later, she watches Vox take over the television and the three Vees torture the people who tortured him, and she thinks about what will happen when she has the opportunity to reach out to two Sinners who hurt each other. She wants to think they can all be redeemed, that her hotel should be open to anyone. She watches the screen through her fingers, unable to look away as Vox kills the Sinner on his knees before him, cackling. She watches The Vees kiss each other over the dead body, tender and loving, the broadcast ending as Vox rests his screen against Velvette's hair and Valentino wraps all of his arms around the two. And she thinks about forgiveness, and she wonders what she would do if someone hurt Vaggie.

[january-summers]

But then what would Red Vs Blue look like as a Sword Art Online fusion?

Because, like, it's easy to just dump them in complete AU, but I mean actual story translation?

Cause obviously the Reds and Blues would be newbie player, or at least they'd be casuals who don't play very often or obsessed with a certain game/genre but not actually very good at it.

And Freelancers would be more pro-players, like Wash did e-sports but he's not really into it, he's good, but he'd rather be having fun with friends than games-as-work.

Carolina's still chasing her father's approval and her mother's shadow by being the top of the gamer world, (her mother Allison was an e-sports superstar, and a top ranker in twenty MMORPGs).

Meanwhile, Director Church has created one of the worlds first full dive Virtual Reality MMOs, and he did it all while trying to figure out a way to un-vegetable his wife, who suffered brain death years ago when trying out another company's first attempts at full dive technology.

Director is convinced if he can just learn enough about brains in simulations, he can use the data that was saved from his wife's dives and put her back to rights.

So he created the game, and it's supposed to be the best game ever, incorporating all Allison's favourite things.

But there's a catch, in order for Director to get the data he needs, the game has to be running non-stop for A While. Specifically, the players need to be playing non-stop for A While.

So he's trapped them in the game with the threat of death looming over them.

There's probably something hidden in the T&Cs of the user agreement so everyone who logs on legally agrees to this shit, but no one reads the T&Cs, so they have no idea. They all genuinely believe they'll die in real life if they die in the game, and the only way to get out is to clear it. Like, even Carolina doesn't know.

The AI overlord Operating System of the game is FILSS/Sheila.

I was thinking (alpha) Church as Carolina's IRL brother who followed their dad into computer programming, but then it (the Chex) would be weird when the Allison Data that Director puts into the game develops its own personality (Beta). So maybe he's just part of the operating systems, on of several AIs running around low key maintaining the game and adding/manifesting new missions and materials based on their interactions with the users to ensure the game is meeting everyone's skill level.

He just sort of joins the Blues and pretends to be a human player.

Man I hope Director is paying the players to be there. He'd probably only pay minimum wage. Has a hospital set up for long term monitoring of players, and Aiden is going to have a field day with the research into what this kind of shit does to people's minds.

Lopez as a Bot that gains sapience/sentience.

It takes Griff months to find out his sister is in the game. (she "just wanted to spend time with him, but holy shit bro have you seen-")

Tucker accidentally hatches some kind of demon creature and tames it, it thinks Tucker is its mother. He names it Junior.

The Freelancers are the Front Line players, making the push towards clearing the game (possibly all of them were beta players for the game?), but somehow the Reds and Blues are actually some of the most powerful players even though they mostly just stand around talking, and getting into side-quest shenanigans.

Sarge is actually Simmons and Griff's shop teacher who is determined to look out for his students in the most tsundere way possible. Donut doesn't take shop class, he does home ec, but he knows them from Simmons' brief attempts at being on the school baseball team.

The Reds and Blues (minus Sarge) are all teenagers now, probably seniors, who go to the same school. (Wash is supposed to be in collage getting ready to graduate but e-sports got in the way, Carolina is younger than him but older than the Reds and Blues.)

Butch Flowers is the home ec teacher, (or/alos a computer science teacher) he and Sarge have a one sided rivalry that got passed onto their teams.

Tucker used to be on the baseball team, but he's currently suspended for reasons that probably weren't actually his fault, but no one knows what it actually is because Tucker like encouraging the rumours, since they're hilarious.

Caboose just wanted to make friends and have fun, and now the cool kids are hanging out with him and he made a Best Friend called Church and he doesn't have to go home at all!

Doc is either a first year medical student who doesn't have time for this!!! or Donut's boyfriend the others have never met because he goes to a different school.

Is the game sci-fi guns blazing or high fantasy swords and sorcery?

I don't know, irrelevant.

The reason Church is still bad at shooting things though is because as an AI he can make himself as powerful as he wants to be, and no-selling his shots is FILSS's way of smacking him with a rolled up news paper.

[learning-left]

I thought it would be cool to write an advertisement for union membership, so here it is!

Your life is run by a dictator

I’m not talking about Biden, or Trump, or any other politician here in America.

I’m talking about the one person who controls more about your life than anybody else.

Your boss.

An unelected tyrant whose only job is to squeeze as much labor out of you as possible.

This person controls your wage, how many hours you work, your free time outside work, and whether or not you’ll be fired for whatever reason they deem necessary.

Most people live in fear of this person, and the all powerful grasp that they have.

You shouldn’t have to live under someone else’s boot.

Here in America, we believe in freedom. We believe in granting people the right to liberty, and if you can’t even decide how your place of work operates, or who is steering the corporation that dictates your whole life, can you say that you're truly free?

We believe that it’s time for the people of America to take back their lives, and data has proven the best way to do this.

Unionization.

The US department of treasury has shown that unionized workers make 20% more than workers who choose not to join a union, and that workers in these unions are less likely to search for a new job, and stay with the one they have.

Basically, unionized workers are happier and wealthier.

The reasoning behind this is simple.

Being part of a workers union allows you and your coworkers to come together and build a better workplace by taking the power away from your boss. This is done by…

-organizing strikes

-collectively bargaining for better wages and working conditions

-bringing forward lawsuits in instances of labor law violations

How's the boss supposed to make any money if their workers refuse to work?

At the end of the day, taking your life back from corporate America really is this simple.

Communicate with your coworkers, Fight back against your corporate overlord, Join a union.

[stressed-and-fluff-obsessed]

Do you think you could make a lee!vox ler!Valentino fic? (Only if your comfortable ofc :])

Of course!

Busy Busy

Summary: Vox is quite busy on a day that he and Valentino were supposed to hang out and Val is not letting that slide…

T.W(s): Swearing and Valentino

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So much to do so much to do.

Vox had a lot on his schedule today. Normally the cool and composed overlord was just fine. He was great at time management, always got to things on time and almost never panicked when it came to planning.

Today was a little different.

He promised he would hang out with Valentino today since it was the moth’s day off but he also had to finish coming out with a new device, fix some wiring in his observatory, go over stacks of reports and attend a public seeing with reporters and such. It was a lot.

Vox was pacing around his observatory waiting for Valentino to show up since he was apparently coming with. The first thing on Vox’s list was he had to go to the seeing and he was going to late if Val didn’t hurry up.

“Damnit Val where the hell are you.” Vox muttered to himself, screen glitching slightly in annoyance at the other’s tardiness. Finally after what felt like hours Valentino sauntered through the doors.

“Hello Vox!” Valentino grinned, raising a brow as Vox rushed towards and past him, pulling on one of the moth’s arms effectively dragging Valentino with him as he walked.

As they walked Vox let go of the other overlord and plastering on a smile right as they exited the doors, “Where are we going?” Valentino asked Vox who glanced his way.

“Bottom floor, I have some errands to run and you’re coming with me.” Vox replied, stepping into the elevator with Val and pressing the button to descend to the bottom floor.

~~~~

When they arrived Vox got right to work, putting on his politician facade while being swarmed with reporters, answering questions and such.

Valentino watched Vox work a moment more before looking around, attention snagging on a particularly beautiful woman making him smile and saunter over.

“Hey beautiful, looking for a job?” Val asked her as she shrugged, “Well come on allow me to take you to a nearby café we can talk there~” Valentino told her which she nodded.

About thirty minutes later Vox walked into that same café to find Valentino, spotting him almost immediately sitting at a table chatting with a woman.

Vox sighed and walked over, grabbing the moth by the arm and throwing a few bills on the table and throwing an apology over his shoulder as he dragged the other overlord out.

“Val quit offering your jobs to random people on the street.” Vox snapped, dragging him back inside the tower. “She wasn’t off the street Vox I found her in here.” Valentino pouted but walked alongside the TV demon as Vox let him go.

They walked over to the elevator again and stepped in, pressing a button to go up to Vox’s department. “What are we doing now?” Val asked Vox who turned to look at the moth.

“I have a new device I’m coming out with, it’s a keyboard that can type up and print data for you, I’m almost finished with it but it needs a few more things and it’s scheduled to release tomorrow morning.” Vox replied, smiling at Valentino’s impressed hum.

When they reached Vox’s floor they stepped out and started walking towards a nearby hallway. “Sir we have made great progress on your Angelic Security, would you like to look over the reports?” Vox’s assistant asked as he caught up to the pair.

“Not right now but send them to my observation room, I’ll look at them later and cancel my appointments for today I’m busy.” Vox told him which he nodded and scurried off to do as he was told.

“Who was that?” Valentino pondered aloud, “That was my assistant Val.” Vox told him walking through the doors of his lab as Val immediately spotted the nearly finished keyboard.

“Is that it?” Val asked Vox who sat down with a screwdriver and a few bolts. “Yes Val now let me focus and don’t touch anything.” Vox instructed, shooing Valentino away and focusing solely on the device in front of him.

Valentino hummed and looked around, attention focusing on a shiny piece of equipment making him saunter over to it to admire (He’s a moth I think he likes shiny things?).

Valentino, attention now fully focused on the shiny thing, reached out one hand to touch it but before he made contact with it, “Val.” Vox’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned to look at Vox’s highly amused expression.

“I get you’re a moth and you like shiny things and all but don’t touch.” Vox told him, pointing a finger in Val’s direction in which he nodded with a grin, meandering closer and now focusing his attention on Vox’s work.

They stood in silence for a while, Valentino watching Vox work and Vox putting the finishing touches on the new keyboard until Vox finally finished. “Finally I’m done.” Vox spoke, standing up and turning towards Valentino.

“Now what?” Val asked him, “I have two more things to do, next up is three rooms over.” Vox answered, walking out of the room with Valentino in tow.

Next up they walked to a room which Valentino recognized as Vox’s observatory and watched at the TV overlord walked about halfway into the room and teleported away before reappearing with a device and crouching down to remove a tile from the floor to reveal a few frayed and twisted wires.

Valentino caught on quickly that his friend had some repairs to do, so he started looking around in the new environment, lots of lights catching his attention making his antenna flick curiously.

“I can see your antenna Val don’t touch anything.” Vox called from over his shoulder making the pimp grumble and pull out a cigar, lighting it and taking a drag. “You’re no fun.” Valentino began pouting again and sat down in a nearby chair to wait for Vox to finish.

When he finally did he stood up and turned towards Valentino, walking closer. “Anything else?” Val asked the other and he nodded, teleporting away for just a moment before reappearing with a large stack of papers that made Valentino’s eyes widen.

“That’s a lot of papers Vox..” Valentino trailed off making Vox chuckle as he wandered closer to his desk with Val following. “I’m touched you care but these are reports I need to get finished by tomorrow Val.” Vox replied setting the papers down and turning around just in time to see Valentino tackle him down.

“V-Val what the hell are you doing?” Vox asked, completely bewildered by this behavior as Valentino tousled with him. Finally after what felt like forever of Vox struggling against the moth, Valentino got him flat on his back, pinning him to the floor with himself.

Valentino looked up from his spot on Vox’s thighs where the overlord was keeping him on the floor and grinned, watching as Vox’s expression faded from one of irritation to confusion.

“Val…you want to tell me why you have me pinned to the ground?” Vox snapped, “You’re working yourself too hard my friend, it’s time you maybe..take a little break.” Valentino answered, a hint of playfulness present in his voice.

Vox raised a brow and opened his mouth to ask what the hell that meant before his eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut, biting down on his bottom lip and raised his gaze to meet Valentino’s.

“V-Val?” Vox began, a grin starting to tug the corners of his mouth as Valentino’s eyes narrowed with a pleased smile. “A little ticklish Vox?” Valentino taunted, placing his hands on Vox’s sides making the overlord flinch and the TV demon’s hands shot down to catch his Val’s wrists.

“Vahal these reports are duhue by tohomorrow!” Vox tried bargaining with his work but unfortunately it backfired..”Perfect we have plenty of time then.” Valentino grinned, as he placed his hands back on Vox’s sides.

“V-Val dohon’t.” Vox started, an actual grin making its way onto his face as Valentino chuckled, “Oh? And what are you going to do if I do hmm?” Valentino hummed, “Then I’m going to kick your AHAHASS!! VAHAL!!” Vox suddenly yelped as Valentino’s hands started moving, squeezing up and down Vox’s sides in rapid succession.

Vox went to grab Valentino’s wrists to halt the playful attack but that’s when his hands got pulled above his head and he looked up to find Val’s second set of hands keeping them there.

“What? You didn’t seriously forget I have four arms did you Voxy~? I’m hurt really.” Valentino taunted with a grin, “Shuhuhuhut uhuhup Vahahahal!!” Vox snapped at Val who moved up to Vox’s ribs making him jerk.

“That’s not very nice of you Vox, you’re definitely not getting out of this now.” Valentino told the TV demon, slowly walking his hands higher. “Waitwaitwait Vahal dohohon’t!” Vox tried pleading with the moth but it didn’t work.

With a playful grin, Valentino wormed his hands under Vox’s arms making him jump as his screen glitched slightly before he burst out laughing again at the tickly onslaught.

“VAHAhahahahAHAL!!” Vox screeched, “Yes my friend?” Val crooned, clearly enjoying toying with the other overlord. “STAHAhahahahAHAP!!” Vox demanded through his laughter.

“Hmm I don’t believe you’re in a position to be making demands my friend.” Valentino replied, moving down to claw at Vox’s stomach making the TV demon jump and laugh harder.

That’s when Valentino’s phone pinged making him make a noise of confusion and slow his hands to a stop giving Vox a break. He took his phone out and noticed it was a text from Velvette?

Confused he opened the message and read what it wrote. “Hey idiot I can hear you from outside I came for a favor but hear you tormenting the TV man, try the backs of his knees and thank me later! <3” Valentino read the message and slowly a smirk played out on his face as he looked up from the screen to meet Vox’s gaze.

A message while Val was tickling him, information that made Val look at him like that. Vox thought for a moment before it clicked and a shiver went down his spine. “Vahahal. Whahat did Vehel tehehell you?” Vox pressed out, heart thundering in his chest as Val only shrugged and put his phone away.

He was about to demand Valentino tell him before he felt scratching on the back of one of his knees. Vox kicked a leg out and bucked, jerking away from the touch but it only followed.

“SHIHIHIHIT!! VAHAHAHAHAL NOT THAHAHAT!!” Vox screeched again and Valentino let out a laugh at the reaction it garnered. “Wohow Vel wasn’t kihidding!” Valentino exclaimed, a large pleased smile on his face.

“IHIHIM GOHOING TO GET HEHEHER BAHAHACK!!” Vox declared through his laughter, “Oh no you won’t!” Valentino laughed, keeping one hand scratching under Vox’s knee and the other wormed back under his arm making the overlord jerk and buck again.

“VAHAHAHAL!!” Vox screeched, “Yes Vox~?” Valentino taunted, keeping it up. “LEHEHET ME GOHOHO!!” Vox demanded, electricity forming in his hands but Valentino only slipped his hand out from Vox’s underarm and used it instead to tweak at his antenna.

The electricity immediately disappeared and Vox’s back lifted from the floor for a moment, his face glitching a bit before he dropped back down and thrashed, cackling hysterically as his two worst spots were targeted.

“I’m sorry, didn’t quite catch that could you repeat?” Valentino teased, “FUHUHUHUHUCK YOHOHOU VAHAHAHAL!!” Vox cackled, “Will you take a break?” The moth asked, not letting up.

“NOHOHOHOHO I HAHAHAVE WOHOHOHORK TO DOHOHOHO!! Vox snapped making Valentino start tsking, “Well now that just won’t do.” Valentino mock-pouted but the grin was back on his face in an instant.

Vox kicked again as Valentino switched places on his knees, the change surprising him and his head jerked and glitched as Val switched antennas in an attempt to get the other overlord to surrender.

“Come on Voxy~ you can’t hold out forever.” Valentino crooned and he was right, Vox was getting hot and he wasn’t sure if he could take any more of Valentino’s cruel teases, maybe a break wouldn’t be so bad?

“FIHIHIHINE VAHAHAL YOU WIHIHIN YOU WIHIHIN!!” Vox gave up, making Valentino smile in satisfaction, “Sorry what was that?” Valentino taunted, “VAHAHAHAL!!” Vox screeched and with a chuckle Valentino let up, releasing the other overlord and standing up.

“There now was that so hard~?” Valentino teased, watching as Vox cooled off and regained his breath. “Fuhuhuck you Vahahal.” Vox pressed out through his gulps of oxygen.

“Okay but you’ll have to pay~ (I’m sorry this just seems like something he would say 😭)” Valentino grinned, laughing as Vox sat up and glared daggers at him.

Vox stood and walked over to his desk but paused and looked over his shoulder. “Can I work now or are you going to come attack me again?” Vox asked but Valentino didn’t miss that hint of amusement in his voice which he returned with a grin.

“Go ahead~” Valentino replied, waving his cigar at the other making him smile and sit down to get to work with Valentino keeping him company.

He learned something that day. He should’ve taken the break.

(This was fun! I tried to capture Valentino’s personality but this was my first time writing for him so if I did it wrong I’m sorry 😭 hope you liked it though!)

[blazehedgehog]

You know how Sonic has like a robot doppleganger version for Sonic, Tails and Knuckles? What would it look like for Shadow? Would it look like an edgier Metal Sonic?

I always figured that's basically what Neo Metal Sonic was in Sonic Heroes.

Neo Metal had basically copied Shadow's data first out of everyone, given he was piloting a fleet of warships containing Shadow clones. The markings on the quills and along his eyes definitely recall Shadow's markings, too.

Yes, Neo Metal Sonic also copies the data of Chaos (from Froggy) but that's what leads him to transform in to Metal Overlord.

It's dumb when you think about it, but Metal Overlord is supposed to be Metal Sonic combining elements of Shadow and Perfect Chaos. Probably Biolizard, too.

Thus, Neo Metal Sonic, with his pauldrons and his loin cloth and his silly boots and studded belt and his big wizard robe cuffs -- that's what happens when Metal Sonic ingests Shadow's data.

[mrlaemmle]

Which Hollywood star is the biggest jerk and why?

Originally Answered: What Hollywood star is the biggest jerk and why?

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Hey hey hey, Bill Cosby.

This is probably a little on the nose, and maybe jerk is way too understated. I think we can all agree though, that Bill Cosby is the biggest jerk of them all.

Denzel Washington is supposed to be a jerk (Bronson Pinchot certainly thought so). Russell Crowe for sure, although there may be any number of good reasons to smash a telephone over a hotel clerk’s head. Gwyneth Paltrow is definitely annoying, but I have no data on her jerkiness. Justin Bieber is clearly a moron (have you seen his deposition video???), but he seems to be making sincere attempts to redeem himself: hello, anybody seen Sorry? It’s wicked!

Having friends who work in the movie business, you hear endless tales of divas and douche-bags, mostly about actors and actresses who are up-and-comers who haven’t made it all the way to stardom. Their insecurity about their own fame makes them lash out and spit acid from their forked tongues. The average TV or movie fan probably won’t consider them household names. Most stars, from what I’ve been told, are actually quite pleasant, and the few I’ve met seem as cool as the average person.

Some actors might be playing an intense character, and may remain in character while interacting with other actors. This can easily be misinterpreted as assholery. I think Christian Bale’s hysterical, and hysterically funny rant - listen to the remix!) is probably something along these lines. He was playing John Connor, savior of the human race, battling our AI and robot overlords, and maybe he was just “in the zone” when he completely lost his mind. He was humanity’s last hope!!!

But boy, Bill Cosby is a tough one. I’m willing to give a guy the benefit of the doubt (and we’re all guilty until proven innocent), and men are definitely accused of assault in money shakedowns, but after many dozens of women come out to make accusations, you have to start accepting that where there’s smoke (soooo much smoke!) there’s fire (soooo much fire!).

I’ve listened to interviews with actors who’ve worked with him, who said that he was always perversely sexually aggressive with women on sets. Apparently many people weren’t surprised at the accusations when they became big news (in part because of Hannibal Buress’ standup bit).

Not only did Cosby brush off these accusations, he made jokes about them in his act (when he was still touring) and yes, YES, did his Fat Albert “Hey, hey, hey!” coming out of the first hearing of his recent rape trial. That’s tone-def to the point of sociopathy.

Most of the accusations refer to incidents long past the statute of limitations, and his recent trial ended in a mistrial, so maybe nothing will ever come of it. His legacy is forever ruined, though. If he did even half the the things he’s been accused of, it’s fair to say he’s transcended jerkism straight into evil. Drugging people and raping them is literally one of the most wicked, disgusting things you can do.

Best wishes,

Laemmle-Vision

[lainscreentime]

some favourites from christina bothwell

this winter i’m breaking cycles that kept me depressed and tuning my coping methods to suit me better! admittedly not all of them are wholesome methods but i’m being very mindful not to overdo it because inner peace is my ultimate goal. i offered up some health data to the overlords and ordered some personalized vitamins which i will log the results of here~

the gesture of popping pills is supposed to be fun and rewarding but let’s see if i can do it every day for 30 days (historically, i don’t have that long a streak)

[destinysbounty]

please elaborate on the whole "does zane have his original programming" theory. I LOVE computers and technolgy and I find this stuff so, so interesting.

OKAY. SO.

Zane's Rebooted death has always been a big interest for me, and ive invested a ridiculous amount of time theorizing on how he survived. And I think I may have stumbled upon some ideas worth considering.

(This is, uh, pretty heckin long, so I'm gonna put it all under the cut!)

I first wanna preface this by saying that, although I have taken a few robotics and computer science classes and I've done a lot of personal research into the topic, my own experience primarily lies with web design - so I'm really just a big ol amateur at this. Take everything with a grain of salt. Now with that out of the way, lets get into it!

In season 4, Pixal referred to the hard drive on which she was stored as her "neural drive" - so with this information we can reasonably assume that all or most of the data and coding that pertains to a nindroid's sense of self are stored on a 'neural drive'. Meaning that Zane either has one of these neural drives as well, or something very similar.

So Zane's resurrection is a bit of a logistical headache, and here's why. Zane is a mechanical being, and despite being so lively, he does technically count as an AI. Which means Zane's sense of self is the result of some very, very sophisticated programming (and trust me, i have theories about how his programming works too). And programming has to be stored somewhere, be it a CPU, a cortex, or a hard drive of some kind. Like how your mind is stored in your brain.

Now, in regards to life and death, the big difference between humans and nindroids is that humans in this show canonically have souls, and that soul is what passes on to an afterlife. But the soul is a metaphysical thing, and nindroids, as far as we know, have no metaphysical attributes. To quite bluntly put it, they are 'man-made'. So we cant ascertain Zane's life and death conditions by the same standards we apply to the humans in the show.

But Zane was destroyed - like blammo, blasted to bits. As far as we know, the only part of him that came out intact was his broken faceplate. That means his neural drive would have been destroyed as well. So if the device containing everything that makes him who he is blew up...then how did he come back? And in particular, how did he end up in Borg Tower?

If we consider Decoded canon, or at least canon enough for consideration, then Zane himself regards his fight with the Overlord as his death. When presented with the memory of it, he says, "this is where I died." Whatever the basis for life and death in this universe may be, Zane believes his destruction at the hands of the Overlord qualified.

To answer that question, let's first take a look at what we do know:

The Overlord survived his fight with Lloyd due to his spirit lingering in the place where he died, then managed to come back when Borg Tower was built in that same location by haunting the servers. This process caused him to become partially digital himself, as he became functionally similar to a virus and could be stored on a hard drive. Heck, they even called him the 'Digital Overlord'. This suggests that there is some interchangeability between spiritual and digital states of being. How this process works remains to be seen.

Adding on from the previous point, it seems pretty clear (at least to me, anyway) that we were supposed to draw parallels between the Overlord's return and Zane's, since they came back roughly the same way. They both died near the foundations of Borg Tower, they both inhabited the tower's computers, and they both continued their lives after that point as digital entities. This implies that Zane's resurrection process was similar to that of the Overlord. But none of this is hard fact, so it's definitely up for debate. If and when the Overlord returns on-screen we'll be able to make more informed conclusions about this.

In Zane's final moments before death, we saw into his head. We saw him reflect on his life, we saw him smile in contentment as he embraced the consequences of his sacrifice. This suggests to me that he had every intention of dying and did not anticipate coming back. Whatever allowed him to return, it wasn't part of his original plan.

Zane in his original form was repeatedly stated to be incompatible with the systems at Borg Industries. This means that he likely wouldn't have been able to virtually transfer his consciousness into the Borg Tower servers, thereby escaping death at the last second (a popular theory i see floating around). There's also the fact that to accomplish this, Zane would've needed some specific hardware. Zane isn't able to upload himself to Borg's servers simply by virtue of being a nindroid for the same reasons you can't connect your toaster to the internet. A device has to be built with certain connective abilities - your computer, for instance, needs something called an NIC (Network Interface Card) in order to access the internet or other devices on a shared network. Zane can interface with his falcon, though, so it's possible he has some connective ability - but there is a wide realm of difference between connecting to a robot bird his dad built to be his friend and connecting to a major tech company's likely private servers that he was canonically incompatible with.

Zane has memory of his death. According to Decoded, Zane recalls his death right up until the bitter end. The memory was so traumatizing, in fact, that he locked it away in the recesses of his mind until it became a computer virus. This means that Zane was consciously present for the entire experience, from beginning to end. This wouldn't be the case if Zane had transferred out, or if he had been replaced with a replica.

It took Zane a while to come back. A lot of people set the timeline as his memorial happening only a few days after his death, but I think it'd be more realistic if it was at least a few weeks. Between reconstruction/repair efforts around the city, arranging the funeral, getting permissions to erect a memorial in a public park, commissioning the statue in the first place, and then the time it would take for the statue to be built...and all that happening while the city tries to get back on its feet in the aftermath of the Overlord's attack. And even if the timeskip was only a few days, then it's still notable because it means that whatever process allowed Zane to come back, it took time and/or effort. It wasn't an instant thing.

(And if we're gonna draw parallels to the Overlord again, then it's worth noting that the Overlord also took time to return.)

In Shadow of Ronin, Wu refers to Zane as "a living thing". And sure, SoR is kinda in that grey area of could-be-canon, in the same vein as 'Splinter in the Blind Man's Eye', Decoded, and 'Way of the Departed'. So any info provided in SoR should be taken with a grain of salt. BUT I still think it's worth considering going forward. If SoR!Wu was correct, then that means Zane classifies as being alive by the yet unknown standards of Ninjago's life-and-death system.

Zane retained his elemental power after being rebuilt, as well as his sixth sense. This is significant because death doesn't seem to be a determining factor in the succession of elemental power. For example, even after dying, Morro and Garmadon's respective elements didn't choose a new master (yet). Whatever requirements are in place for elemental power to pass on, death isn't necessarily one of them. Your power doesn't leave you the moment you die. So unless some other qualification was achieved when Zane died, his power likely would have remained with him. Which...kind of pokes a minor hole in the theory that post-Rebooted Zane is just a replica of the original. I know Zane himself admitted to being a replica, but I personally regard that as a matter of his theseus-esque existential crisis more than anything. But I'll admit this is one of my weaker arguments, so it's definitely up for debate.

Zane isn't the only nindroid to have died and come back. Cryptor died at the end of season 3, and then came back as a ghost in DotD. Which means that Cryptor, after dying, somehow passed on to the Departed Realm. Cryptor also had a few nindroid henchmen accompanying him, so he wasn't the only nindroid to die and come back in this manner. This suggests that there may be some worldbuilding gimmick that allows mechanical entities to pass on to the afterlife.

No one knows what powers Zane. Even after Pixal scanned him and built an army of clones in his likeness, even after his death, no one knew how his heart worked. I've seen a lot of people theorize that Zane's heart is either a human soul or soul-equivalent, with his unique soul-power being what brought him back. And that idea certainly has its merit, but it does have some issues as well. Like I mentioned in the previous point, Zane isn't the only nindroid to die and come back. And the nindroid army wasn't powered by the same things as Zane. We know this for a fact, considering their reliance on the lightning farms and later the electrocobrai, as well as the fact that no one knows what powers Zane. You can't replicate a power source that you can't identify, after all. And this is all relevant because it means that if Zane and Cryptor were both able to come back from the dead, and both of them were powered differently, then this rules out Zane's power source as the cause of his resurrection.

Souls do canonically exist in Ninjago, and were even mentioned explicitly a few times, (ex. Ronin's "cursed soul".) Whether nindroids have souls, much less Zane, remains to be seen. But given what we've already discussed, it's reasonable to assume that nindroids likely some kind of life force, be it a soul or something else.

(I do have a teensy bit more evidence, but that all involves Crystalized spoilers so we'll skip it for now. Besides, I think I already have enough to make my case.)

So if his heart isn't responsible for his resurrection, and he's probably not a true replica, and he didn't get virtually transferred out at the last second, then what happened? How did he come back?

Well, I have three different theories, all with varying degrees of likelihood.

The nature of Ninjago's life-and-death system is not exclusive to the human soul. Or at the very least, the concept of a soul/life force is not exclusively biological. Perhaps it is just a matter of sentience. If you're self-aware enough to consider yourself alive, then you're alive. I think, therefore I am. You think you're real, so you're real, and that quality alone entitles you to the same processes of life and death as everyone else. This would explain how nindroids, mechanical entities, are able to die, enter the afterlife, and come back as spirits of some sort. As mentioned before, the 'Digital Overlord' situation shows that there is an in-universe ability for spiritual entities to become digital - a process that probably works in reverse too. (This claim is possibly supported by the Prime Empire fiasco, but that's a rant for another day.) Either way, it seems to be that inhabiting a digital space is what allows this switch to happen. Zane died and passed onto the afterlife, or perhaps lingered in the area in the same way the Overlord did, and then became digital once more after coming into his new body.

Another possibility is that all of this boils down to a magic system gimmick - that is to say, golden power. The Overlord was defeated the first time by golden power. And Zane died as a result of golden power as well, being overloaded by too much of it until he exploded. And Cryptor...ostensibly was killed by golden power as well? Zane's ice killed him, and Zane's ice was supercharged by the Golden Armor, so in a roundabout way you could argue Cryptor's death was also caused by golden power. Perhaps there's some quality to golden power that allowed these three individuals to come back in the ways they did (which begs the question, does this same rule apply to everyone else destroyed by golden power?) It's a bit of a stretch, but it's not entirely outside the realm of possibility. The biggest hole in this theory, however, is that it doesn't explain the rest of the nindroids besides Cryptor (unless they were the souls of those nindroids who died touching the Golden Ore on Delta V)

The last option is that Zane wasn't completely destroyed, and his neural drive somehow managed to survive the explosion intact. Ronin came upon it and manually hooked it up to Borg's servers so Zane could rebuild himself and that way Ronin would have a proper ice master to deliver to Chen, and kidnapped him just moments after his reunion with Pixal. This is probably the weakest of the three theories, because it has SO many holes and is painfully circumstantial. But I figured I'd at least present it (also bc I wrote a oneshot about this idea and I can't help but toot my own horn a bit.)

I'm personally preferential towards the first theory, as it seems to make the most sense. But again, thats entirely up to your discretion.

[signedaiko]

Royalty [Tarn x Reader x Overlord]

Reader is Cybertronian Femme | MTMTE Based

Recommended Song - Dernière Danse by Indila

'You have got to be kidding me.' It had been thousands of years since you had last heard anything from this mech. Why now?  A large ship paced below my own smaller one, housing only a crew of 30 or so cons. I would recognize the peaceful tyranny from anywhere, I was more so unsure of why they were here. Tarn was not one to warn anyone of his endeavors if he intended harm.  I had more reasons to be worried when I noticed Deathsaurus ship pull over top and another much smaller one behind me. Something was up for certain. Standing in the front navigation section of the ship I waited for any kind of hail or notice.  Beep! Beep! The incoming call on the front radar flashed, and I was quick to answer. A cross-section of three faces appeared, mine along the bottom part. Tarn was accounted for on the top, to the left was...Deathsaurus, and to the right...Overlord? This was more than strange.  Hiding my discomfort behind my mask, I tilted my helm upwards. "Hello, Tarn." Quick and to the point would suffice, my patience was running thin. "Happy to see I was invited to the little group chat." A jestful throw, I couldn't help myself. Deathsaurus seemed to crack a small smile, and I had my own forming behind the faceplate, I knew he was the least of my worries tonight. No one else had spoken yet, and I was beginning to contemplate pressing the panic button.  "I have a proposal for you, y/n."  ~~~~~~~~~ It didn't take long for my ship to lock itself into place atop the tyranny, latches keeping it from floating off. There was business to attend to, so I dropped my crew off on Deathsaurus' ship first; they had plenty of friends there and it would hopefully help manage the rising stress levels visible on the ship's AI health data.  When I climbed into the great Tyranny, I was face to face with none other than Vos. We had met before, in not so similar circumstances. I still had some holes hiding under my faceplate courtesy of him.  His unfamiliar tongue broke the silence and he moved to rushed me over to where I was presuming I would meet the rest.  One step at a time, I got there faster than I'd of liked. The smaller purple con didn't seem to care for my discomfort and rushed me into the large room. A table was in the middle, and around it? The entirety of the DJD,  the murderous Overlord, and the sweet Deathsaurus.  All eyes were on me,  the grip my own servos had behind my back became near painful as they pulled in an attempt to reduce stress. I had encountered each on their own before, why was it so hard to do now? "Y/N! Come join us." Deathsaurus smiled and motioned for me to stand next to him, which I did in haste. He was the only one I trusted enough here, I had been a part of his crew long ago; we were good friends now.  "So," There wasn't much to speak about, the deal was already sealed. I supposed Tarn just wanted to intimidate me into staying with them, "You got a new arm."  The words bounced around my head as my arm instinctively moved into my vision. It looked near identical to my other one; aside from its newer paint and finer shape. It was more the insinuation behind the words that bothered me.  'Wouldn't have needed it had it not been for your mistake.' I bit my tongue, careful y/n.  "I didn't exactly have a choice." That's where the wall between the conversation finally worked, and Tarn turned to his crew to begin discussing something about security. My optics finally trailed up the largest threat of the room, meeting his red ones that framed a smirk.  He treads carefully to a door, and I followed suit. The door closed nimbly behind us and freed me from the nervous breakdown I was about to have in there. It was so terribly awkward when you sat in a room full of old acquaintances, friends and enemies alike. What kind of high school reunion was this? "Never expected you to have made it so far, y/n." Overlord found his voice, purring out my name while he led us on our stroll. I used to know him well. "And clearly you took to some changes."  His remark wasn't wrong. Last we met I was a scientist under

the cons, a shy nobody with a bright colour palette and hope for a better world. Now? I looked dull in comparison to then- however, I myself glowed brighter than any star now.  "Seems I made a name for myself out there, and you did too?" Less of a question than a statement, but I wouldn't help but wonder what he had done to get here. I've heard whispers of his designation over the many years since we last spoke.  A shift of air caught me changing stance, pressing a blaster to the mech's stomach; his servo inches from my neck. He had become predictable too.  "Feisty~!" His grin looked sick, he looked like a psycho. I wasn't about to play cat and mouse with him though, his games were for children. My servo pulled something from a compartment I had on myself,  dangling the device before his very optics.  "And to think I was going to give this to you." I teased, swinging it back and forth. I would have my own fun. His servo moved away from my neck to snatch the device, and for once I could have sworn he was impressed.  "How?" The device was a kill switch; many existed! But this one was for a particular person, a certain one that stood before me. I knew he would want it; even if it could no longer harm him.  "By stealing it from Megatron." A sharp voice cut through, it was angry. We both turned to see Tarn and his crew behind us, Kaon's hands were crackling with electricity.  "You would be mistaken," I dared, stepping closer to the DJD all to everyone's surprise. I had survived them once, I would do it again. "For he gave it to me."  My servo moved to my faceplate, pulling it off with a click and a hiss. Below my optics was my mouth, and nothing more. But on the inside of the plate? A special insignia sat, revealed to the rest.  "By Primus..." I heard Overlord take a sharp intake of air, before a deep chuckle reigned, "This whole time we have had royalty onboard?" The insignia of the Royal Sciences Division, or the R.S.D. It was a Decepticon logo, however, the top of it had a golden crown decorating it. The symbol of a long-forgotten crew that served right by Megatron, awarded for the advancements made by mechs and femmes of every flavour.  It didn't take long for the tension to drop, and I had finally stopped right in front of Tarn, looking him straight in the optics.  "Consider yourself lucky." A smile formed, servo pushing my mouth guard right back into place where it belonged. In the world of war, I outranked everyone in the room. I did not want to reveal it so soon but... It was better now than after the torture.  Considering the silence of my dismissal, I stalked back over in the direction of my ship, removing myself from the room. Overlord watched my figure disappear with a sudden glint in his optics, a hunger I failed to notice.  It seemed both Tarn and Overlord had something new of interest.

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Art by - Exodus Requested by - Perth Word Count - 1,318