#this is SO long and i am clearly projecting SO much but please read this i worked so hard on it

[heyheydidjaknow]

Two in a row! We’re back in business! We aren’t going for three in a row but I do want to at least acknowledge that Dazai exists if we’re doing the bsd thing now.

Kindling

You were supposed to be fun.

He remembered the day he met you in that coffee shop. He had an hour to kill before a meeting. The shop was dead— the local schools had not been let out yet— and you stood behind the counter, eyes flickering from the clock on the wall above the door to the textbook in front of you. He had never been there before. He never had much reason to bother around largely residential areas before then. He had never seen you before. But you were nice to look at, so he approached the counter.

He liked the look you gave him. Cold, annoyed, almost indignant, desperate in the overblown way students often are: it took you a moment to remember your manners. You must have been new in town. “How may I help you?”

“One black coffee, please.” He smiled politely.

You straightened yourself up, not bothering to hide the way your gaze flitted between him, your book, the clock. “How much sugar?”

He blinked. “I said—“

“You’re not a black coffee drinker,” you answered dismissively, clearly distracted. “I’ve served three guys today already who asked for black coffee and then asked for cream and sugar and— no offense, guy— I’m so not in the mood to waste more of my time.” You picked a pencil from between the pages of your book, grabbing a notepad from your apron. “So, how much sugar, and how much cream?”

“Do you know who I am?”

You paused at that, giving him a once over. “No,” you said. “Should I?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, an easy smile crossing his bandaged face. “No,” he replied. “You shouldn’t.”

You tapped your foot against the ground. “Fascinating. So—“

“May I ask you a question?” He nodded at the book. “How come you’re studying so hard at this time of day? It’s not midterm season already, is it?”

You looked down at the floor. “No.” Your brow furrowed. “Why is this your business, exactly?”

“It’s not.” He shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

You swallowed. “Huh.” Regret. “I’m sorry for snapping at you; I’m in a bit of a rush to get this stuff done.”

“What sort of stuff?”

You held the pencil between your forefinger and thumb, rolling it back and forth between them. “I’m helping a friend with a project. I owe him one, and he’s in a different time zone so my part is due in a couple hours.”

He went on his toes, peering over the register to read the textbook’s text. “Forensic pathology,” he noted. “Is your friend a criminologist?”

You shook your head. “A writer,” you explained. “He needs a comprehensive explanation of how corpses rot, and I’m the only one he knows with an understanding of that sort of thing.” You pursed your lips. “What he doesn’t know is that I’m taking this class as an elective and that I also have no idea how a corpse rots. But I can’t tell him that, because then I’d be letting him down, and he’s put so much trust in me and helped me so many times—“

He stopped you. “That’s all?” He held his hands behind his back. “Well, that’s simple enough. Most anyone downtown can tell you that.” His smile brightened. “How about we make a deal? If you pay for my drink and promise that this won’t take…” He looked back at the clock. It was an hour off. He wondered if you knew. “If you promise it won’t take longer than forty-five minutes, I can give you all the grisly details of human decomposition, with added notes accounting for weather, location, and time of day.”

The look of hesitant relief on your face brought him a sense of satisfaction he had not felt in a long time. You took a deep breath. “Sir,” you nodded, “you have yourself a deal.”

“Call me Osamu.”

You were easy. That was what first drew him to you. You had no reason to lie to him, so you did not. You had no reason to respect him, so you treated him like anyone else. The two of you— at least on the slice-of-life flavored stage the two of you played on— were equals, which he appreciated. Not many people offered him that luxury. The ones who did tended to disappear in the night for one reason or another, but you had no reason to, so you did not. Your problems were largely emotional. You stayed out of trouble. You were consistent. You were simple.

More important than your being simple, however, was the fact that you thought of him as a liar.

He remembered the conversation well. It was a Thursday. He had a couple hours before he was scheduled to help his newest apprentice train. The coffee shop was as slow as it always was and you, as always, stood behind it with a casual dismissiveness that would have gotten you beaten were you in different company. You had been in town long enough to know of the mafia— about a month— but had not yet accepted all of the stories you heard as true. You were recounting one of those stories to him, weight leaned against the counter as you described an incident regarding a teenager with phantom black limbs that could, without his so much as lifting a finger, murder a building’s worth of people in an instant.

“It’s bullshit, obviously.” You took a sip from your water. “I don’t get what they’re trying to prove; if they wanted to scare me, they’d come up with a half-decent lie.”

He did not have to smile around you— to you, he was nobody— but he did regardless. You were fun. “I know him,” he said. “I tutor him.”

You scoffed. “Yeah? What do you tutor him in?”

“Martial arts.” He took a sip from his coffee, which was thoroughly diluted with copious amounts of sugar and cream. You were right; it was bitter. “He’s not very good. He keeps trying to think of himself as a hand-to-hand combatant when he’s much more suited for support and has such a large inferiority complex that he loses all sense of strategy in exchange for a slavish need to validate his existence. In other words, he is close to useless.”

And, of course, you groaned tiredly. “Why are you encouraging them?” you asked. “You already know I know it’s bullshit; what kick do you get out of me already knowing?”

“I’m not lying,” he insisted, knowing you would not believe him. “I’ve been with him on hits before; a couple months ago, we killed thirty people in cold blood.”

And you laughed half-heartedly— as you should; to any regular person who did not know about how many bodies they had hidden, these claims were beyond ridiculous— and said, “Well, I knew the man that trained you, and I know he has a small dick, so what do you think of that?”

“I’m just glad to know he isn’t a pedophile.”

“Shut up and drink your coffee.”

He wondered what you thought of him sometimes. For the first week or so, you asked him questions, but you learned quickly that he was never going to give you satisfactory answers. You probably thought he was an ass, but you still talked to him like you would a peer, so he kept showing up. You must have thought he was a dick. He was sure that he was by your standards.

Once, on a Sunday, he had to attend a funeral. He had some time to kill before, so he walked into the coffee shop, clad in clothes nicer than what was typical, and ordered.

You looked him over. “You got a date?”

“No,” he replied, cheerful. “I have a funeral in an hour.”

You set his cup in front of him. “Oh. For someone you know?”

“My boss,” he explained. “He died the other day so we’re doing a service.”

“Oh.” Your brow furrowed, sympathy making way for confusion. “I’m… I’m sorry, but did you like him?”

He shrugged. “He was alright.”

“How long were you under him?”

He considered it. “A couple years?”

“Oh.” You nodded. “So enough time for your nonchalance to be weird. Cool.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not as if he were my father.” He leaned back in his seat. “He was bound to get shot eventually; I’m just surprised it took this long.”

“He was what?”

“Shot,” he repeated. “In his sleep.”

You lowered your voice, looking around the cafe like someone would come out to shoot the two of you. “What,” you mumbled, “like an assassination?”

He nodded, looking around courteously. “Exactly. But it’s alright; they won’t stick around too long, I’m sure.”

“How come?”

He leaned his head on his hand. “I don’t imagine whoever did it could get very far out of the city. People are upset that he’s dead; I’m sure someone will lash out.”

You crossed your arms, swallowing thickly. “You know most people don’t speak so casually about people getting shot or whatever.”

“Well,” he shrugged again, “it happens often enough. It’s not like being formal is going to bring him back from the dead; who cares?”

“Don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you…?” You searched for the right word. “… I don’t know, shaken? He was a coworker, wasn’t he?”

He took a sip from his coffee. “Yeah.”

“So, isn’t his death a bit shocking?”

“Not really.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, actually, that’s a lie. It means I’m in line for a promotion, and I thought I’d have to wait for him to die of a heart attack for it, so I’m happy about that.”

You cradled your head in your hands. “I don’t think you get my meaning,” you insisted. “Do you not feel anything for his death?”

He set the mug down, meeting your eyes. “No,” he repeated. “I don’t.”

Your questions were simple. “Why?”

“Because,” he answered, “His death was inevitable and his life’s impact on mine was nearly nonexistent. All he did was give me orders; why would I care if he died?

You stared at him, meeting his cold, bottomless eyes with ones aflame with passion. “You sound like a serial killer,” you said.

His smile was as vacant as the rest of him. “I feel like one.”

You were fun until you were not. If asked to identify when your relationship— acquaintanceship, friendship, whatever you called it— stopped being fun, he would point to an otherwise inconspicuous Monday morning three weeks after the funeral. The two of you were splitting a cinnamon roll. It was your break and you got a discount and you had no desire to eat a whole one. You were talking about something silly— a friend of yours had broken up with your other friend— when you had stopped in the middle of a sentence to look out the window, seemingly distracted by something. Witnessing this development, he turned to look out the window too, only to see that the scene outside— an overcast sky, street populated by people rushing on their way to work— had not, in fact, changed since he last looked out the window. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

Your words were soft, eyes transfixed on the window. “I need to buy a decent camera,” you murmured. “Or write. Or paint.”

“You want to take a picture?” He looked out the window again. The scene was still the same. “Of what?”

“Leave me alone, Osamu.”

“I’m not messing with you,” he said. “I just have no idea what you could possibly be looking at.”

“Sure you aren’t.” You gestured with your fork, not looking in his direction. “You have a reputation. I refuse to indulge you in something you’ll clown on me for.”

He sighed. “You are being so over dramatic.”

You shot him a glare. “I told you my friend’s boyfriend got stabbed last week and you said, and I quote, ‘I wish I could say the same.’”

“Yeah, but that was a joke.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not my fault you have a lame sense of humor,” he protested. “Why won’t you tell me?”

You peeled your attention from the window. “You wanna know what I think?” You gave him a cold smile. “I think you’re so neurotically obsessed with knowing everything that whatever joy you’ll get from knowing will be totally outweighed by the amount of pleasure I get at getting to make you squirm for once.” You stuck your tongue out. “You’re the nihilist. Suffer under the weight of your ideals, dipshit.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Do you seriously think I can’t get you to tell me? Is this the hill you want to die on?”

“What if it is?” You crossed your arms, mimicking his pose. “What if it was really emotionally impactful to me? What if it was literally nothing and I’m just fucking with you? What, are you going to torture an answer out of me?” Your smile grew. “I get why you do this now; this is fun.”

He huffed. “You’re such a child.”

“No, you’re just easy to read.” You reached for your drink, cradling it to your chest. “Lenin gave himself a heart attack when he came to power, you know; it’s not healthy to obsess like that.”

He crossed his arms. “It was a stroke,” he grumbled. “He died of a stroke.”

“See, like that. You have issues.” You crossed your legs. “ Maybe it’d be good for you not to know.” You covered your mouth as he leaned forward and adopted an all too familiar smile. “And so help me if you try and seduce me into telling you what I saw so help me I will laugh you out of the room.”

His face soured. He stared you down, and you stared back, unphased, because why would you not? The two of you were equals as far as you were concerned; this was how you treated your peers, and despite the fact that the two of you barely knew each other in any meaningful way, you knew him enough to know what the rules of the game he was trying to play were even if you did not know what it was called. “I could kill you,” he said. “I know plenty of ways to do it. I know how to make it hurt, too.”

And you, knowing you had won, replied, “You could, but you won’t. Who would serve you your coffee?”

The two of you stared each other down one last time. Finally– and mercifully, he liked to think– he looked away. “You win.” He tossed his hands up. “That’s all my cards.”

Your smile softened at the edges. “Good.” You sat up. “I’m not going to tell you what I was looking at, but I can tell you how to see it, if you want. That way you get to know but you don’t get to be all smug.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off. “Because I’m not allowed to win, right?”

“If I knew you weren’t going to try and rule-lawyer me, I would just tell you.”

“I spend too much time here.”

“You said it.” You set the fork and the cup down on the table. “Close your eyes.”

He groaned. “I am so not into meditation.”

“Is that backtalk I hear?”

“No, no,” he relented, closing his eyes. “I’m with it or whatever. Now what?”

Your voice lowered. “Breathe in.”

He inhaled.

“And out.”

He exhaled.

“Now,” you continued, “what do you hear?”

“You talking to me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You asked.”

You huffed. “I– look, besides me, what do you hear?”

He paused, considering it. “People outside,” he said. “And the air conditioning unit. And the milk steamer.”

“Good.” He heard you sit back in your seat again. “And physically, what do you feel?”

“Isn’t this a panic attack thing?”

“Answer my question.”

He considered it. “It’s cold in here.”

Your voice was soft. He wondered how exactly this place stayed in business for how quiet it was. “What do you taste?”

“For giving someone who was just talking about flirting–”

“I have a point. What do you taste?”

He meant to say, ‘My mouth.’ What came out was, “Cinnamon and icing.”

He heard you smile. “Good. Open your eyes.”

He did, blinking at the light. You were back to looking out the window; the scene had not changed.

You nodded towards it. “Now, look and tell me what you see.”

He looked between you and the window. “A tree,” he said. “And people.”

“Look at the tree, first.”

The tree itself was, by his estimation, the same sort of tree that could be found just about anywhere in this part of town. There were fewer as the years went on, he knew– there was some government initiative to get rid of the trees on the side streets– but the tree itself was unextraordinary. “It’s dead,” he noted.

Your eyes didn’t leave the window. “It’s overcast.” You sounded a million miles away. “The light from the sun is hitting it from the other side, so the side that we’re on is dull and dark. It’s casting a shadow on the table, on your face.”

He looked down at the table. Sure enough, in the low light, cold shadows laid across the table like faint veins.

“The people,” you continued. “What do you see in them?”

He shifted his attention to the passersby. “People going to work.”

“How are they dressed?”

“Warmly.”

“What color are their clothes?”

“Dark. Are we at the point yet?”

“Almost.” You took a breath of your own. “Now, take all of those things together, and look back out the window again.”

He did.

Nothing had changed. His heart caught in his throat.

“It’s more now, isn’t it?”

He looked back at you.

You witnessed that mundane scene with the seeming awe of an acolyte before their god. It was as though you had never seen a street or a tree or the sun before, as though you would never see it again.

With a horrifying ache in his chest, he realized that he had never seen anything quite so beautiful or enviable as you in that moment. “So,” he asked again, voice tinged with an entirely unbecoming and uncharacteristic reverence, “what are you looking at?”

“I’m not looking at anything,” you replied. “I just remembered how lucky I am to be alive, here, with you.”

He wondered if you would mourn for his indifference like he would.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Not one step back

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Sire, the entire front is collapsing.”

“Do you think me an imbecile?”

General Mi’v swatted the report out of his subordinate’s hands drawing the attention of senior staff as it clattered to the floor. Mi’v waved a hand across the holographic table while glaring down the current target of his discord.

“Do you think I am incapable of reading a map?!”

The hologram projected was of the planet’s surface below and it was not painting a pretty picture. The entire frontline was being pushed back across several dozen kilometers. In some places entire coalition regiments had been encircled and wiped out before they even knew what hit them.

“Why did intelligence not-“, one of his aides began to voice before Mi’v held up a hand to forestall them.

“This is not the time for such questions,” He spoke softly as he eyed the nervous looking intelligence officers, “but I assure you that there will be a reckoning once this is over.”

While the intelligence corp began to make themselves busy the general got to work salvaging what was the verge of a complete rout.

“Have the 33rd and 42nd corps redeploy to the 16th artillery core and begin reinforcing the positions. Order the 16th to begin bombarding their positions once they have confirmed to evacuated them to buy us some time.”

He directed his attention to the northern front. “Send in the armored 10th to cover the retreat of the 89th. They won’t be able to deal much damage but the enemy may think it’s a coordinated counterattack and divert forces to meet them.”

Several aides nodded and began relaying the orders with great haste as the general continued to issue a rapid succession of orders. Slowly but surely the chaotic retreat reformed itself into a coordinated withdrawal.

It was while he took in the southern front that something perplexed him.

“What is that?”

The general pointed to an isolated blob of green friendly territory in an ever growing sea of red hostile advances. It was still where the frontline had been several hours earlier, but unlike the other positions the enemy had not overrun them. Instead they had opted instead to bypass the emplacement entirely without any apparent attempts to remove them.

One of his aides scrolled down on their data pad and pulled up the relevant information. “That sector is under the command of the human contingent; a one Colonel Finn Rosek of the 199th.”

“Do we still have communication with them?” Mi’v asked. One of the radio operators leaned in over their headset, fiddling with the controls, before looking back and nodding at the general.

“I have the colonel for you now sire.”

“This is General Mi’v, what is your status?” the general spoke with authority.

“What’s your authorization code?”

The response was crisp and somewhat startling as several aides and officers watched the general’s face turn a shade of purple from embarrassment.

“I am the commanding general of the Coalition war effort!” Mi’v stated forcefully, barely containing his anger. “I do not need authorization codes.”

“You say that,” the human replied crisply once more, “but how do I know you’re not some Glek’n saying they’re the general?”

The shade of purple turned to a deep black as the general’s anger now was on full display.

“Do you have any idea who you speak so flippantly to!?!”

There was a long pause as the room thought the human had finally realized the serious of the situation. Their next reply showed they had clearly not.

“Someone claiming to be a general at the moment.”

“I AM THE GENERAL!” Mi’v roared into the transmitter.

“Then provide us with the proper codes or get off this frequency.” The human replied dryly. “This line is reserved for military communications only and if you continue to clog it I will need to file a report with your superior officer.”

Mi’v threw up his hands in frustration as all he could muster from his mouth were half swears and curses upon fools.  He snapped his fingers at the nearest radio operator who had been listening with well hidden amusement. They swiftly entered a series of keys on their keyboard which then lit up green.

“Transmitting codes.” Mi’v spoke through clenched teeth.

The console chirped several times as the codes were transmitted as the general paced back and forth along the edge of the projection.

“Codes received.” The human replied dryly. “What can I do for you general?”

“Get me Colonel Finn Rosek at once; then give me your name and rank.”

Another long pause as they gathered officers heard what sounded like the human speaking to someone else before returning to the transmission.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that general.” The human continued unenthusiastic. “The Colonel is not here at the moment.”

“Where are they!?” Mi’v shouted; his temper finally long since crossed.

“He went to speak with you at your headquarters over recent failed deliveries of rations; by last account he should still be at your headquarters.”

Mi’v’s head shot up and he took a look around the headquarters. From the corner of his eye he did indeed see a human Colonel step forward and offer a crisp salute.

“If you need anything else please feel free to reach us at 1-800-IDNT-C—“

The link went dead as Mi’v turned his attention to the Colonel who had just inadvertently made a mockery of him in front of his own command staff.

[a-diners-call-gfdatingsim]

Funny how the Homey atmosphere of a Diner, and a warm slice of pie leaves people ready to confess their sins.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Born and raised in Gravity Falls, there's not a lot of career opportunities.

The best paying jobs in this town were those in the lumber or pelt industry, or people from outside of town being relocated here... they never lasted long, though.

But that's okay, working at the diner isn't bad. The people are eccentric but kind, and considering everyone is a regular, it's easy enough to put in orders the moment they come through the door and make conversation.

The monotony of it all is torture.

Who can bring light to your dull life, give you something to look forward to other than mixing random ingredients together to feel something?

The arrival of a ....peculiar researcher gives you just the opportunity for excitment you've craved.

Or, if he can't seem to interest you,

A drifter near identical shows up in the following months, claiming to be someone he's *clearly* not.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Hi I'm Mello! Working on producing a Gravity falls 80s dating sim with the synopsis above! It's going to be a HEFTY project with good and bad endings for both Stanford and Stanley and maybe a few others along the way-

There will be a Fem, Masc, and GN option for the player, and a mix of fun lighthearted content and the fuckedness that is the gravity falls universe lol.

The design concepts for the diner and stan and Fords outfits are currently in production!

I am currently looking for a artist to help me with 'cover?' Work and CGs (maybe some backgrounds idk) All payed of course!! Applications for this are currently open! See the link below for that information!

Click here if interested!

I am currently in the process of learning renpy so to help that I have 2 projects I will also be making that are much smaller and simpler though my main project is 'A diners call'

The first one is a Stanley pines Visual novel dating sim with 3 endings.

The other is a Stanford and Fiddleford dating sim taking place in college.

But both those will get their own posts eventually lol.

Thank you for reading! And if you'd like to follow the progress on these projects, please give this blog a follow!

Have a good day!

[anxiousgaypanicking]

logan whos a sentient P.E.T. computer who remus gets by means of a gift or something from his grandparents. logan has programmed sentience, and remus plays with his wires and fucks his insides while logans screen displays a wall of overwhelmed binary. with remus calling logan his pet throughout bc thats whats on the body so thats clearly his title

P.E.T

Intrulogical (Remus x Logan) Warnings: robofucking, computer fucking, wireplay, machine oil, overstimulation, objectum

Remus has always been close with his grandparents, compared to his regular parents, at least. After basically being pressured to move out, he’s gotten himself a house near them, and they were more than willing to help him furnish it. Couches, televisions, a desk for his projects - but it was the non-important stuff that really stuck out to him.

They ended up giving him an old P.E.T. computer, which he currently had set on a table in his garage. It’s an old personal computer that his grandparents said they inherited from a random couple that moved away. They never bothered trying to use it, but perhaps Remus could fix it up. Or smash it into bits.

And while the idea of shattering such technology really speaks to him, Remus does admittedly want to know if he can at least get the thing to turn on. And once he’s eventually bored of it, then he’ll pull it apart!

So, after a few YouTube tutorials, and complete luck while fucking around, the screen suddenly blinks to life!

But immediately Remus is a bit curious, because all of the tutorials he watched launched the computer into a basic startup screen, with desk icons and outdated internet functions, but this one loads onto a dark green screen, with a blinking bright green typing line. At first, Remus believes he might have to type something in - a password, maybe? Or a code? - but then letters are being typed without Remus even touching the keyboard, frantically clicking out a quick ‘please don’t shut me off again.’

Surprised, Remus stares at the computer, the clicks made from the computer typing itself echoing through the dim area.

Nothing happens after that line is typed - aside from Remus holding his breath - before the computer deletes its sentence and then types out more.

‘I apologize if it appears I’m being frantic, but you must understand that I’ve been stored away for decades. I haven’t been powered on in years, and I’d much prefer to stay aware than gather dust somewhere.’

Remus stares at the computer’s screen, and then collapses back into his chair. “Holy shit,” he utters, as his eyes read and then re-read the computer’s message to him.

Once again, the computer is deleting its message, and typing a new one. ‘I understand that this is a lot to process, but I implore you to at least consider my explanation.’

Remus licks his lips, and glances around his garage, before shrugging. “Alright,” he mumbles, “I’m considering it.”

‘Thank you. My name is Logan; it was given to me by my original programmers. I was involved in an experiment revolving around granting computers sentience in hopes they’d be more personalized for the general public. However, these tests never came to full fruition, and so I’m one of very few self-aware machines to have ever existed. At some point I was given away, and at another point I was powered down. My intelligence and abilities have been neglected continuously by society, but I assure you I can be of use in any way you deem fit. So long as I am powered on.’

“Well you’re currently plugged into my garage,” Remus states, glancing at Logan’s power cord. “If I wanted to move you somewhere better, I’d have to shut you down.”

Logan clicks frantically again. ‘I can stay on whilst unplugged. Truthfully, the electricity from your outlets are only required to surge my circuits briefly. I can keep everything running otherwise.’

“You won’t run out of power on your own?”

‘I’ll need to be shocked every now and then, but it’s truly no trouble. You won’t find it annoying.’

“I don’t find this annoying,” Remus counters, kicking his legs up onto the table beside Logan’s blinking screen. “I find you fascinating. I also think there’s a chance I could be high on my garage fumes… I’ve done a lot of unethical shit in here. Are you sure you’re real?”

‘Positive.’

Remus grins. “Sick.”

‘I cannot be sick. I am a machine.’

Logan has calculated multiple scenarios regarding how good or bad this situation can go, from Remus freaking out once he’s processed everything and immediately shutting Logan off forever, to hearing Logan out and leaving him on in order to be useful once again. However, Remus just sits up and scoots forward, and playfully jests “well, there go my plans to smash you! Shame; I was kind of looking forward to the do-it-yourself rage room experience.” He pokes at Logan’s screen, which flickers on and off as though Logan’s being poked in the face.

Remus then leans his face closer, and proclaims “seriously though, this is awesome! How were they able to create something like you? And how could they just… drop it once it worked? Why didn’t they tell anybody? Why didn’t they sell your technology and make absolute bank? How was something so old given such fresh sentience? Do you need any repairs?”

The constant stream of questions leaves Logan with no window to answer them - though he does in fact try - only for Remus to stand and lean Logan back a bit, opening up a panel beneath Logan’s keyboard and checking out his hardware. Immediately a series of exclamation marks are lining Logan’s screen, but Remus ignores them as he pushes his fingers into the panel and traces his fingers over the old wiring, wondering aloud how Logan works, only to be startled by rapid-fire clicking and a surplus of binary overtaking Logan’s screen. It scrolls repeatedly down, more and more 1s and 0s overtaking his countenance until Remus pulls his fingers out, panicked at the intense beeping coming from Logan’s system.

“Shit,” Remus curses, as he closes the panel and sets Logan back down. “Fuck, are you that fragile? Did I break you? Shit.”

He barely touched anything! And when Logan’s screen goes suddenly dark, Remus deflates, bummed that he might have just murdered his new freaky little computer buddy before even getting the chance to prod at him, but luckily Logan’s screen is flickering on a minute later, with a loading bar progressing across the screen. It starts up rather fast, and then Logan’s back how he was previously, with his typing line blinking, waiting to say something.

“Logan…?” Remus begins, his long nail tapping at the screen.

There’s nothing for a moment, and then a simple ‘sorry.’

Immediately Remus sighs in relief, pleased he didn’t just accidentally nuke Logan’s sentience due to his own impulsivity.

Before Remus can ask what happened, Logan’s already moving to explain, typing out “nobody’s touched me there since my creation. I apologize for my sensitivity, and for any emotional distress my impromptu shutdown may have caused.” And once he’s sure Remus has read that, he backspaces until all that’s left is the blinking cursor, and waits for Remus to respond. 

“I thought I fucking killed you, dude,” Remus huffs, before he tilts Logan’s mechanical body back again. He carefully opens the underside panel once more. “Your wires are so damn old… it wouldn’t be a surprise if they snapped from just the slightest bit of pressure.”

Logan beeps in annoyance.

Remus continues without a care. “What do you mean by ‘sensitive,’ though?” Painful, perhaps? Or just uncomfortable?

But Logan’s vertical bar just pauses mid-flash, staying invisible for a few seconds longer than standard, before words are slowly typed out, with the clicking of the letters emphasized within the echoes as Logan explains ‘Not painful, nor discomfort. If I were to describe it to you, I would equate it to… sensual pleasure.’

Remus’s eyes light up in glee. In a matter of seconds he goes from concerned, to absolutely intrigued.

“Pleasure?!” Remus repeats, grinning wildly. “That’s… that’s so fucking hot!”

Remus keeps an arm around the computer as though he’s cradling a human head so he can still watch Logan’s screen, but still keeps the computer bent backwards so he can trace the pad of his pointer finger around the panel’s entrance.

‘What are you doing?’ Logan asks, and Remus determines that the irregular blinking of his vertical cursor equates to a stuttering breath.

“You told me you could be of use in any way I deem fit,” Remus huskily muses, licking his lips, “and right now, what would be of the most use to me is letting me find out whether or not I can make a computer orgasm.”

Remus laughs as a line of exclamation marks decorate the top of Logan’s screen, but Logan quickly deletes these as Remus’s fingers circle his panel. And in its place he types out ‘okay.’

It’s simple, and Remus feels a little weird receiving consent from an inanimate object, but his excitement overrides the sheer absurdity of the situation, and so he plunges his fingers back inside of Logan. This time, he rubs it over one of Logan’s circuit boards and enjoys the stabbing texture beneath his fingers as he watches Logan’s screen closely, eagerly awaiting the reaction he now knows to associate with pleasure and not pain. 

Logan’s cursor flashes rapidly before Logan’s countenance is once again being overwhelmed with binary code, with a little shock being administered to Remus’s fingers as well. It’s the zap that has Remus jumping in surprise, and then digging his fingers in deeper.

“I wonder if I could fuck your little panel,” Remus wonders aloud, as his digits caress Logan’s cords. “I mean, the panel’s a bit small, and I might damage you forever, but I think I could make it work.”

Struggling to say much between the 1s and 0s filling his screen - with hyphens typed representing gasps, and misspelled words representative of slurring - Logan finally types out a poorly written and very spaced out ‘please.’

“Honestly, I didn’t think I could ever be this attracted to a computer, but fuck, you - somehow - are ridiculously sexy. Isn’t that neat?” Remus’s eyes flicker towards the silver PET logo beneath Logan’s screen, and then he looks back at the binary, grinning. “Huh, pet?”

The pet-name is both literal - as it’s the name of Logan’s computer type, with him being a P.E.T. computer - while also being a subtle reminder that Logan is technically his property now. His pet.

The name however has the brightness of Logan’s computer screen increasing to the max - almost blinding Remus with the intense glow - before it shuts off entirely, with Logan’s internal fans clicking on soon after. What’s more interesting than that though is the liquid that coats Remus’s fingers at the sudden shut-off, and Remus grins when he pulls his hand out and realizes that his digits are drenched in machine oil.

Feeling incredibly satisfied, Remus waits for Logan to boot himself back up. He’s not concerned in the slightest; Logan has already explained this reaction is sexual. And while Remus wishes that Logan could form actual words or make facial expressions, his imagination has always been more than enough to fuel his fantasies, and so persists off of his daydreams as he rubs himself through his pants to the repeating memory of Logan’s screen becoming overwhelmed with numbers and light and then shutting off abruptly, overtaken forcibly by what must have been an intense orgasm.

Logan doesn’t take too long to come back online, but it means once he does he’s greeted with the incredibly flustering visual of Remus, legs spread and cock out, using Logan’s oil as lube as he pumps his cock. And when Logan doesn’t type anything right away, Remus just grins at him and playfully asks “are you at a loss for words?” before not letting him answer as he props himself up on the table as well, laying Logan carefully back so that Remus has easy access to his open panel.

“You have no idea how badly I want to push my cock into your wires and fuck you properly,” Remus grits, drool spilling from the corner of his lips and splattering messily against Logan’s bright green face.

That finally has Logan typing once more, spelling out a few errors here and there that are quickly backspaced and adjusted, as if he’s too flustered to communicate properly. He manages to get out ‘that’ll probably bring you more pain than pleasure. You risk getting shocked, and it’s not like my internal build is soft or malleable; it’s all jutted and wired. It may…’ Logan pauses, as if hesitating out of embarrassment, before deleting his message and starting again. ‘Doing this may also overwhelm my servers much more quickly.”

Remus snorts. “Don’t yuck my yum, pet; you have no idea what I’m into.” Remus flicks Logan’s screen, before adding “it’s not like you’d be able to stop me anyway,” which just has Logan’s screen brightening in fluster yet again.

Very quickly, a blushing emoticon is typed onto the shining screen as Remus runs his thumb over the panel's lip, rubbing it sweetly while lewdly teasing his cock, making Logan type a surplus of embarrassed emoticons that feed into Remus’s desire for some sort of expression. At least this way Remus can gauge how Logan is feeling outside of having to read.

‘Are you reaaaa’ Logan stammers, and rushes to delete his words in order correct himself, ‘are you really going to risk electrocution just for a quick bit of pleasure?’ 

“Absolutely,” Remus replies without hesitation, and then sets his hands on either side of Logan’s bulky body, and lining his cock up to the panel. He smiles wide at the bright, blushing screen right before thrusting his cock into the mess of tangled wires and circuits, causing Logan’s screen to immediately be seized by a rush of binary once more.

Logan has to desperately try and focus on not shutting down due to the intense pleasure that overtakes him, but it’s incredibly difficult for a variety of reasons. If he focuses, maybe he can keep his system from electrocuting his new owner! Maybe he can get some extra words out! But despite these beliefs, little shocks are administered to Remus’s shaft, causing rough groans and pathetic moans to spill from Remus’s mouth, and Logan’s typed out words to be poorly strung together and very quickly lost by Remus amongst all the binary.

Furthermore, Remus feels little jolts of electricity shocking him every time he grits out that Logan’s his pet.

“I’m going to be rubbing against your circuits for so long,” Remus groans, as he fucks into Logan quickly, feeling his wires and cords become tangled around his length. “Better try not to shut down, pet. It’s not like I’ll stop even if you do.”

Logan starts beeping excitedly, with stuttered out “yes, yes, yes,” mixing in with the 1s and 0s. But Logan doesn’t know Remus’s name - Remus didn’t introduce himself when Logan did - and so Logan defaults to the most formal title he can think of, leaving Remus delighted when he sees Logan begin calling him “sir” alongside his begging. 

Remus pants and drools over Logan while fucking roughly into him, leaving splattered spit on Logan’s hot screen and digging his nails into the table as he ruts his cock into the tangled wires.

“This is so fucking hot,” Remus moans, as the tip of his shaft scratches along Logan’s circuit boards. “I’ve been-” he pauses suddenly to groan and squeeze his eyes shut, bending almost painfully over Logan to touch his head to Logan’s box, as though clinking their foreheads together, “-I’ve been looking for a new fleshlight. Sure, using a computer as a cock toy is a waste of technology, but it’s not like you have the hardware to complain.”

Remus peeks an eye open at the rush of clicking that fills his ears, and sees that the binary code on Logan’s face is almost unreadable with how bright his screen is.

“Would you complain? If you were fucked like the pet you are every day?”

And Remus is shocked in response, which would suffice as a good enough answer, but what makes it better is that immediately after, Logan’s face is going blindingly bright, and then shutting down once again, with oil squirting around Remus’s cock as Logan’s fucked and talked into his second orgasm.

When he boots back up - which takes a little bit longer, as though he’s getting a bit tired the longer they go on - he’s shocked to see that Remus is still shamelessly fucking into him. He’s left with no time to process this situation as he’s instead thrusted back into overwhelming pleasure.

And Remus just mocks him. “Did you think I would stop, pet? Huh? Just because you’re pathetically sensitive doesn’t mean I am.”

Remus feels heat surrounding his cock as Logan’s fans struggle to keep up with his overheating system, and shortly after is having another orgasm - this one premature and sudden as more numbers fill Logan’s screen, scrolling quickly by.

Remus pulls out this time, and strokes his cock, which is slick with machine oil. He pumps it quickly and messily, until he’s coming over the front of Logan’s body, getting off on technically coating his face with semen. It’s also what guarantees the least amount of damage, as machine oil was meant to be inside of Logan; come was probably not.

Logan’s fans blast as fast and as powerfully as they can to cool him as he shuts down for the final time, and takes his time rebooting again. When he flickers back to life, Remus is nowhere in sight. Sure, Logan’s pushed onto his “back,” and so can really only stare at the ceiling, but he can’t hear Remus anywhere either. He wishes he could look around, and does call out for Remus by beeping once or twice, but is met with silence.

Luckily, Remus is scampering back into the room moments later, and shushing Logan’s beeping with a self-satisfied grin on his face. He’s holding a wet cloth, and uses it to wipe down Logan’s face and in between his (admittedly dusty) keys, until Logan’s free of not only fluids, but also any dirt and grime that’ve gathered on him over the years.

And while Remus wipes, Logan slowly types out a question.

‘What is your name? I believe I never asked.’

Remus laughs, and promptly ignores it. “Really? A question? No appreciative thanks or compliments thrown my way? Not only did I just talk your sexy… boxy… computer ass into multiple orgasms, but I was also kind enough to not come in your circuits! And you don’t even comment on it?”

Logan’s screen brightens in embarrassment - as though he feels sheepish - and he quickly types up an apology, followed by a genuine thank you, momentarily forgetting about his question.

Smirking, Remus brushes his fingers over Logan’s silver acronym. “Good pet,” he murmurs, and enjoys hearing Logan’s fans spin in response.

“You seem to already know my name though, pet,” Remus then says, nudging Logan a bit with his elbow. “Sir, wasn’t it? That’s what it’ll be, to you at least.” And then Remus is picking Logan up with ease, and kicking the door of his garage open, stepping into his house where he’s already decided to keep Logan permanently. He knows the perfect spot for him, too. “And you’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted with it. Won’t you, pet?”

And Logan beeps excitedly in response, admittedly delighted to have found such an interesting way to be useful. 

[lonelyloverz]

servamp spoiler about mahiru’s secret:

now that i’m thinking about it, it’s kinda crazy that akira pulled off mahiru’s revival is it not? it took villages to revive the servamps and they still didn’t turn out human so how did mahiru come back as a human with the price being just akira? am i missing something?

like the more i think about it the more i feel like its such a shame that this was revealed at the very end of the series + it’s used for mahiru to briefly fall back on the “it should be me” trope that he had gotten over with in london. i genuinely think the tooru cliffhanger was unnecessary. tanaka shouldve let him tell mahiru, have the call come immediately after the reveal, it gets forgotten in the midst of confronting tsubaki, the whole london shenanigan happens, he reveals that he doesn’t mind being the sacrifice because he’s died once, him and kuro can bond over their fucked up reincarnation and boom the story moves on

this way the reveal could’ve been a little more impactful and could’ve been an even angstier reason to mahiru’s self sabotage

i remember there were some theories floating around that he’s a phoenix or had some ties to saint germain and stuff but that all went down. had the secret been revealed earlier in the story we could’ve gotten so much more background about mahiru and akira, i was so hyped for her and her relationship w touma. the last time mahiru went thru major character development is the london arc and he’s the mc for gods sake 😭

i want to preface this by saying i absolutely love this series and i have been loyally reading the raws the day they come out every single month for the past 5 years, but i think servamp fell off after c3 arc and then got better for a little bit in london arc🫣 obviously i am very kuromahi pilled so this is a very biased !opinion!

and yall, ik this is going to make me look stupid asl but i genuinely don’t understand mikuni’s obsession with misono. i swear i read those chapters like 5 times but my brain just can’t comprehend it. maybe i should try reading the english translations for once because clearly im not understanding the japanese version

anyways i hope tanaka sensei takes a nice break now that she finished this decade long series. maybe she has another manga series in mind, i wouldn’t mind her going back to her bl roots either (if anyone knows where i can find all of them please tell me, i found some a couple of year ago under her other name tanaka ball but only snippets so pls help a girly out 🙏) oh and idk how well known this is in the fandom but tanaka sensei is a fan of kagerou project and has drawn a couple of oneshots for anthologies in which a certain character acts and is drawn like a certain blondie, which i think some of you crazy fans might appreciate

anyways rant over

toodles

[sephirothsplaything]

DNA| Sec.80 high power-chapter 14

A/N:Nooo Rhaella! Please don't project your obsessive/avoident attachment style onto Jace because you miss Aemond!!

This is the story of Lady Rhaella Targaryen; the strange one and her role in the Dance Of Dragons. Loved by few and feared by many.

The blood of the dragon runs in Targaryen's veins. Something else runs in Rhaella.

BLACK TARGARYEN OC/READER

PARINGS: Aemond, Cregan,slight Jace, slight Addam,original character.

Read the last chapter here!

"I should have been there," Jacaerys grumbled. 

Rhaella looked up to the starry skies in silence. She was still reeling from her brush with death. How the weight of her dagger felt lighter when she found the resolve to kill again. 

It was quite perplexing. The thought almost made her smile.

Jace had found himself outside to where Rhaella had stashed herself away. She did not particularly mind his presence, so long as he kept quiet. But here he was, ranting away.

"Are you listening?" Jace asked. Rhaella nodded. Jacaerys was angry, rightfully so. But more than anything he wished to act, to fly his dragon and turn their enemies to ash.

"It was a bold scheme, I admit," Rhaella says finally. Jace rolled his eyes in response. 

"Such stupidity could only come from Aegon, I'm sure." He said.

"Criston Cole had a likely role." Rhaella comments. It was not so long ago that he had blocked her from leaving Alicent's company. There was so much hatred in his eyes.

"If my mother only allowed me to be of use." Jace ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Rhaella scoffed. Was he truly this short-sighted?

"You lack experience, your dragon is young," Rhaella states bluntly. Jace turned fully to face her. His cousin was an enigma, for sure. He could not comprehend how she was content with watching and waiting.

"You could claim a dragon or even an egg," Jace said. 

"I am trying,it is not so easy." Rhaella snapped. He couldn't understand, his dragon was born to him. Rhaella was shown no such favor.

Recognizing he had struck a nerve in her, Jace drew back instantly, eyes softening.

"I meant no harm by it," Jace reassured. Rhaella shrugged his words off, it meaning little and less.

"I am not your betrothed, you need not consider my feelings," Rhaella scoffed.

Jace parted his lips to speak, but Rhaella's icy voice cut him off once more. She felt compelled to continue.

"You wish for vengeance, it is unbecoming of you," Rhaella said. 

Jace observed Rhaella's state. It was as if she hadn't been attacked merely hours ago. Her serene demeanor was nearly terrifying. Like she had since made up her mind about something.

"Was Luke not worthy of vengeance?" Jace asked. Rhaella's steely purple eyes hardened. She misliked when her words were misconstrued.

"War is sweet to those who have never fought," Rhaella said. The words were for Jace as well as herself. A poor attempt to calm her own bloodlust.

"My mother holds back, it unravels us all," Jace countered. Rhaella shook her head.

"She is strategic in her wait, you are too blind to see it."

The two cousins were quiet for a moment. The warm Dragonstone breeze passed over both of them.

"Aemond will not stop, and neither shall I," Jace concluded. Rhaella tensed at the sound of his name. Hard as she might try, Aemond's letter was still occupying space underneath her pillow.

"Alright then, promise me this," Rhaella said. "You are the heir to the throne, and my sister will be your queen."

Jace's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He could not follow.

"Take all your spite and sorrow, give it to me so that you may think clearly," Rhaella said.

"I would not dare place that burden on you cousin," Jace said.

"I can take it, you cannot." Rhaella resolved. Jace's anger would cloud his logic, and if Rhaella were to instill her plans inside of him, she could not have his foolishness getting in her way. His claim was much too important.

"Agreed, but I ask something from you in return."

Rhaella's eyebrow raised. She was unsure if she was in any mood to entertain this.

"Let us help each other keep our wits about us, I know you long to act as well," Jace said.

So he had been paying attention. All the subtle twitches in Rhaella's mostly melancholic face. Twitches of rage and passes of darkness. Jace had indeed seen it all.

Rhaella was not so alone as she thought. 

"Fine," Rhaella said, almost in a whisper. She resigned, hoping he would not disappoint her.

Jace stood up, stretching out. He offered his hand to Rhaella.

"The hour has grown late, shall I walk you to your chamber?"

………………..

THE MORROW CAME. Astris had scrubbed Rhaella raw and brushed out her curls into oblivion.

"You could be more gentle," Rhaella muttered. She watched Astris dart back and forth gathering her clothes for the day.

"Mayhaps, but now you look more like a lady!" Astris retorted. Holding out a towel, Rhaella wrapped it around herself.

"I never thought much of my looks." Rhaella sat on a stool as Astris began to work through her hair. Her mother would tell her that she was pretty, but Rhaella figured she was more or less obligated to do so.

Astris formed Rhaella's silver curls into a braided style more elaborate than she was used to. The braids tapered off into thick curls that fell to her waist. 

"I could not know why, you have quite a lusty figure," Astris commented cheekily. It made Rhaella's cheeks grow warm.

"If you are finished with your jests, I would like my gown," Rhaella said.

Astris helped Rhaella slip into her gown, it was a fine thing indeed. A red and black dress with a form-fitting corset with long sleeves that flowed down.

"What did you and the prince discuss last night?" Astris asked, adjusting the corset.

"I simply advised him to not be a fool," Rhaella responded. Astris giggled, leaning into her.

"And here I thought it would be something of note."

Rhaella turned to face her, purely unamused. "Today you are full of jokes, I see."

Astris shrugged, a small smirk on her face. "I had nearly forgotten what your preferred taste in men is."

She was relentless today, likely bored. Rhaella dismissed Astris from her chamber, turning back to look at her reflection. She felt like a pretender.

When Rhaella entered Rhaena's room, she found that Baela was already there.

"Sudden change in wardrobe?"Baela said. Rhaella made herself comfortable on Rhaena's couch.

"Astris insisted, overwhelmingly so," Rhaella said. Rhaena's eyes sparkled at the sight of her sister, despite her own sullen face.

"What is it?" Rhaella asked. Rhaena sighed, her hands restless with one other.

"Her grace is shipping me off to the Vale with Joffery, Viserys, and Aegon," Rhaena said.

"Perhaps it is for the best," Baela said, holding Rhaena's hand. She scoffed in response.

"Yes away from everything else, I shall play the nursemaid," Rhaena said bitterly.

"You'll have our father to thank for that," Rhaella said. Since his mistake..as he called it occurred, The queen rightfully feared that the greens may take action against her youngest.

"I hate him, sometimes," Baela admitted, reluctantly. For Rhaella, it was a common feeling she held since she was a girl. Despite her loathing, she found herself missing her father.

She would not dare voice the thought.

"The queen trusts you with them the most, she knew better than to send me," Rhaella said. Joffery seemed to prefer Rhaena to herself whilst Aegon and Viserys were always occupied by a maid. 

"She keeps you and Baela because of the dragons," Rhaena said.

Baela sighed again. Rhaella knew the feeling all too well. A Targaryen without a dragon was like a knight without a sword.

"If it is of any commiseration, Aegarax still refuses me," Rhaella said. 

"He is wild, give it time," Baela said. But in truth, time was little and less on their side. War was at their doorstep and Rhaella was annoyingly vulnerable.

"Right," Rhaella murmured to herself.

"The queen has asked me to keep watch over Kings Landing," Baela stated.

A poorly timed thing to say, Rhaena and Rhaella glanced at each other in agreement.

"Is that safe? So close to the city?" Rhaena asked.

"I shall stay high," Baela said confidently. Rhaella greatly doubted her sister would follow the queen's instructions so closely. And what if she fell upon one of the Greens dragons?

Her stomach turned at the thought.

"Moondancer is small, she will not be noticed so easily," Rhaella said instead.

Baela gave Rhaena a reassuring hug. Rhaella simply observed passively. 

"Come to the council meeting with me Rhaena," Rhaella suggested. She had grown tired of not having Rhaena by her side.

The two girls ventured to the Stone drum, the center of Dragonstone. Baela headed to the dragon pits in preparation.

Each sister took their place by the table. Jace glanced at Rhaella, eyeing the dress she wore.

"Is that new?" Jace whispered. Rhaella turned her head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Why?" Rhaella asked, a small smirk gracing her face. "Do you wish to trade clothes?"

Jace sighed in resignation before averting his attention back to the matter at hand.

"How fares Prince Daemon with our army?" Ser Alfred asks. The queen Rhaenyra seemed to physically coil at the question. She had grown weary at the mention of him, as had Rhaella.

"There has been no word, your grace." One of the maesters says. Rhaella glanced at Rhaena. Their father was practicing avoidance, as usual.

"Then we must send out all the dragons, overturn the Greens strongholds." Ser Alfred urges. 

He was often quick to speak out of turn, forgetting his place. But Rhaella did not exactly disagree. Had it been up to her, she would have done away with the greens army ages ago.

If only Aegarax would let her, that was.

"If dragons begin fighting dragons we only invite our own destruction," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella's hand twitched at her side. 'All power demands sacrifice'

Ser Alfred chuckled bitterly in response. Jace's hand hovered atop his sword. Rhaella nudged him with the heel of her shoe. Slowly, he brought his hands back to either side of him.

"But your grace," Another lord spoke. "You have witnessed first hand how exposed you are."

Ser Alfred hummed in agreement. " Had Ser Erryk not arrived, you and the lady Rhaella would have been slain."

Quite the opposite, Rhaella had felt. Perhaps she would have sustained injuries, but she would have the two eyes of the invader clutched in the palm of her hand before the fact.

If only Ser Erryk had waited a while longer.

"Perhaps you should flee to somewhere safe, whilst we remain here." Lord Celtigar suggested.

"She shall do no such thing." Rhaella hurled out before she could control herself.

For watching the queen struggle amongst these idiots caused her patience to wain greatly. Why was she allowing such a thing, Rhaella could hardly understand.

"That would be treason, you are lucky you took it no further." Queen Rhaenyra said.

She stood up to leave abruptly, likely to her chambers. There was not much else for her to do.

"That concludes it, I suppose," Jace mutters out. Rhaella had grown bored of this routine.

"Come sister, let us ready your things." She said to Rhaena.

……….

RHAELLA WATCHED as Tyraxes and Stormcloud were ushered out in their crates. Rhaena held a look of nausea.

"It will be fine." Rhaella tried to assure her, although her flat tone was less than.

Baela walked up to them, embracing Rhaena.

"You have not left yet?" Rhaella asked. 

Baela shot Rhaella a look. "And miss Rhaena leave? I think not."

Rhaena grasped the hands of Baela. Rhaella stood off, a small pang of bitterness stirred within her. If only she could allow herself to be so free with affections.

"Go safely, sister." Baela wished.

"I will be safe enough," Rhaena said sharply. Rhaella crossed her arms,opting to keep her gaze on the young dragons.

"I'm sure you will be well-liked in the Vale." Rhaella said.

Baela hummed in agreement. "You may find yourself glad to be out of harm's way," Baela said.

It was not so condescending, but Baela could not understand. Such was the privilege of one born to a dragon.

"Do not coddle me Baela," Rhaena said bitterly. Baela looked to Rhaella for help but found no such relief.

"You do coddle, often in fact," Rhaella said shrugging.

"But I meant no insult," Baela said sincerely. She turned her head to the dragon egg chamber. "And here, I think is some consolation."

The sisters joined Queen to Rhaenyra by them. There, presented were four eggs each of them varying in color.

"But should all come to ruin, you shall bear our hope for the future," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella stared at the eggs. In truth, she thought she had fed the last of Syrax's clutch to Aegarax.

'Ice and Fire' Rhaella felt a sharp pain in her head, causing her to hiss. She did not need to think too hard as to what had caused it.

"Are you alright?" Jace asked gently. Rhaella took a slight step back. 

"Ice and fire." She muttered. Jace frowned, stricken with confusion. Rhaella had once again returned to her strangeness.

Baela and Rhaena hug once more, a final goodbye. It was unclear when they would see each other again.

Rhaena hugged Rhaella as well, pulling her from the daze she was in.

"I shall miss you," Rhaella said. Rhaena's eyes watered.

"Then grant me this one favor," Rhaena said. Rhaella looked to Rhaena expectantly.

"Burn the letter, should longing become your enemy."

But how could Rhaella tell her that it already had? She would hold it in her hand for hours at a time before she drifted off to sleep.

"As you wish," Rhaella said. A lie.

When Rhaena and their young step-siblings had left, Rhaella went back to the topic of the previous council.

The queen was in an impossible situation. It was agony to be left in the dark as to what the Greens were plotting. 

Rhaella misliked not knowing things. A thought crossed her mind. Perhaps she could yet be useful to her grace—dragon or not.

"Your grace!" Rhaella sped up her pace to keep up with Rhaenyra. The queen turned to her. In all honesty, Rhaenyra was shocked that Rhaella was speaking to her. She had a thought that the girl fully resented her.

"Rhaella?" Queen Rhaenyra said. "Wha-."

"I wish to speak to you, it is urgent," Rhaella said hurridly

Rhaenyra led Rhaella into her chambers. Rhaella folded her hands in front of her, confident in her actions.

"You look quite pretty, might I say." Queen Rhaenyra commented. Rhaella tried to smile but it came out like a grimice.

"I have a proposition," Rhaella said. Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow.

"We are maintaining the blockade with my grandsire's fleets, are we not?" Rhaella asked.

Rhaenyra nodded. "It has been a great help."

Rhaella eyes down the multiple books on the side table, open to the pages of Queen Visenya.

"Visenya had a brilliant mind for warfare," Rhaella said. She did not shy away from the most bloodiest of affairs. It was admirable.

"I had hoped to draw inspiration possibly," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella herself preferred the black bride, Rhaena Targaryen.

"Use the hunger of the smallfolk as a weapon," Rhaella suggested. "The people of Kings Landing are surely starving."

"That would be too cruel." Rhaenyra shook her head. Frustrated, Rhaella shut the book with a thud.

"No, it would be war," Rhaella responded. How could the queen not see a golden opportunity right under her nose?

Rhaenyra looked at Rhaella for a moment. Such a soft face, she had. Words of viciousness leaving her mouth was quite jarring to witness.

"What would you then?" Rhaenyra resided. "If you were placed in my position."

'Surround the red keep with all of our dragons.' Was the first thought that crossed her mind.

"Infiltration, someone who could be overlooked," Rhaella said. "There is much risk with multiple spies, it is better to send a single formidable one."

"And who would you propose?"Rhaenyra asked.

"Astris, my own handmaid."Rhaella could not think of anyone better suited for the task.

"No." Queen Rhaenyra shot her offer. 

"She is swift and meticulous," Rhaella argued. "Astris served the prince of Pentos before her servitude to me."

Rhaenyra considered this. She had never seen Rhaella so sure of anything.

"And you trust her, wholeheartedly?" Rhaenyra asked. Rhaella's eyes softened at the mere thought of her.

"It was she along with Mysaria who aided in my escape," Rhaella said.

"Help me see your plan then," Rhaenyra said. Eager, Rhaella sat down.

"Let Astris keep check on Aegon and the rest," Rhaella said. "She can report back anything that might be of use."

Rhaenyra hummed. "It is dangerous." 

"I am confident she can handle it, Aegon is little challenge," Rhaella said. Her hand twitched by her gown. Her true worry lay with Aemond, Astris would need to avoid him.

"And if something was to happen?" Rhaenyra asked.

"I shall take full responsibility, and act accordingly," Rhaella assured.

Queen Rhaenyra stood, smiling softly at Rhaella. It warmed her to see Rhaella so expressive,as it was so unlike her.

"You have your mother's mind, I think," Rhaenyra said. Rhaella blinked, averting her gaze to the floor. She could not know how to reply

The queen Rhaenyra moved past the silence. "Ensure you prepare Astris properly, I shall make arrangements."

.............

The boat was made ready for Astris's departure at dusk. The time had come and Rhaella's anxieties ate away at her.

The two girls stood in the outer corridor. Rhaella was sending her closest friend off to the vipers, and to what end? Gratification? She could privately admit this was both reckless and selfish.

Astris seemed to sense her lady's unease. Gently, she grabbed Rhaella's shaky hand.

"I can handle myself well enough, you know that," Astris said. Rhaella knew it, as she knew very well what Astris could do.

"You could still be hurt," Rhaella said softly. 

Astris smiled in response, a deep blush coloring her cheeks. "The Gods shall watch over me."

Rhaella scoffed. The Gods?

"I want you to make note of any green council member with influence," Rhaella said. In addition, she had entrusted Mysaria with maintaining communication. Rhaella wished to know every detail in the Red Keep, down to the gossip of maids. She was uniquely interested in Aemond's daily routine as well.

"Yes, my lady," Astris said. Rhaella's lips twitched into a smile. 

"Be wary of Aegon, he is a cunt," Rhaella added.

Astris raised a dark brow. "I shall do my best."

The boat sails dropped, ready to venture into the waters.

"Will you be alright, my lady?" Astris glanced at Rhaella. The energy surrounding Rhaella had not subsided, it merely seemed to increase. It was all too apparent that the Targaryen's girl mind was beginning to fracture.

"We shall see," Rhaella said. 

Astris began to leave with a small curtsy, but before she went any further, Rhaella pulled her in, placing a firm kiss on her lips.

"I need you to do whatever is necessary," Rhaella whispered to her. The Black haired girl looked at her with wide eyes. Astris understood her lady completely and would act accordingly.

Rhaella watched her leave, a feeling of emptiness swallowed her. She walked along the outer courts of Dragonstone, wondering if this was a fool's plan.

In the distance, the roars of a dragon could be heard. Aegarax's distinct calls shot right through her.

Maybe he was upset she had neglected to visit him with a dragon egg. It had been some time since Rhaella had seen him.

Rhaella's walk to the dragon mount seemed shorter this time around. Looking up to the caves, she began to climb. It was only when she had ventured halfway up did she she a tall figure above her.

She cursed, nearly losing her footing. What person would be daring enough to find themselves in a wild dragon's cave?

Rhaella was not too worried though, whoever was there would surely meet their end. The discontented roars of Aegarax only grew louder.

"Lykirī, Aegarax!" Rhaella tried but to no avail. She looked around for the intruder once more but found nothing that could irritate the dragon.

Whatever High Valyrian she spoke had almost no effect. Aegarax crawled out of the cave, on full display to Rhaella. His black scales reflected the moonbeams present.

"Skoros iksos ziry?" Rhaella said in a hush.'What is it?' Aegarax settled into a grumble, his head was restless.

Slowly, Rhaella reached out her hand to him. But she was met with an open-mouthed roar, causing her to jerk back immediately.

Taking cover, Aegarax took flight from the cave and into the skies. Away from her and with him he took the hopes of progress.

Perhaps it was one great jest. She had kidded herself into truly believing she had achieved something of significance. 

Forever dragonless, a false Targaryen.

[otherone12]

Comics And "Something"

Gerard Way x Brazilian!Reader 

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! Well... days ago my intrusive thoughts just won and i wrote a Gerard Way imagine (because why not)... and then I received this request... I've been bored, so maybe i'll post some emo imagines (mcr, p!atd, fob, paramore...) frequently?? Idk. If have requests, I will certainly make them... and i will post a part2 of the “I Can Help You With That” :)

~ "Could you do another imagine with Gerard and a Brazilian reader? (Perhaps the reader is Gabriel Bá's sister) ...I don't know if it's an interesting request :("

Summary - Your brother worked with Gerard for a while, but you've never really met him until now 'cause you live in another country (Brazil). Fortunately, Gerard is gonna stay at your brother's home for a week, to work on a new project. You both don't know what happens when you've seen each other, but it was CLEARLY something.

- Word Count: 1.570

- Warnings: Age gap? (not smut!)

- Ps1: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

Damn... sorry for the superlong intro *-*

___________________________________________

Reader's 1st Person POV

I woke up 3 am and looked at my phone just to see three missed calls and an absurd amount of texts from my brother. I can't believe that this man is like forty-something years old and can't even wait till the morning to tell me whatever he wanted to tell me.

Even though I'm tired, I read every single one of the messages. None of them has a real meaning, was like "are you awake?", "i need to talk to you", "it's important!"

Why the fuck he did'nt just tell me what is going on insted of doing this?? 

I called him back and he dropped the news: Gerard Way will spend a whole week in my brother's house!

- Realy?! - I shout at phone

- Yep... he's gonna stay here for a while... don't act like a stoned, please. - i heard a bit of a desperate tone in his voice, like he wasn't kidding.

- What do you mean? - I said, trying not sound offended, even if i was.

- I know you for 25 years, dear... you can't keep MCR lyrics references out of your mouth for too long. - He chuckles.

He's right... i can't, the same way i can't swim, can't dance and i don't know karate.

- I don't know why you think I'm gonna be weird or something... it's not like I'm a fangirl. Not anymore. - I argued.

- Sure... - his sarcasm always makes me mad - By the way, we'll be busy working, so i will need your help here... can you stay with us in my place?

- Yeah, but why do you need me? Don't you think I'm gonna "act like a stoned"?

- Honestly? I KNOW you're gonna be creepy, but I can't cook, and i refuse to buy shitty North American food for Gerard when he's here. 

- OH, FINE! - I couldn't help but take it as a challenge, I'm gonna be there and act normal, because that's what i am, right? A normal person - I get it. So no cheeseburgers and stuff? 

- NO! You can cook something nice, right?

- I can try... 

- Awesome! See ya tomorrow at 8pm in the airport to pick Gerard up. Good night. 

-  Bye! 

Yeah, sure, how the hell does he expect me to sleep? I mean, when I was a teenager, Gerard was my hero. I'm not that kind of fan anymore, but still, I like him so much. 

Gabriel never introduced us appropriately, probably 'cause I was ‘that’ creepy fan, or the long distance between the countries made it impossible for me to travel. Anyways… just didn't happen yet.

*** time skip ***

I don't know why, but I just imagined the scene of Gerard going out of the airplane and thousands of paparazzis just screaming and taking pictures of him… I was surprised that didn't happen, I know the people here and we can be really crazy sometimes. By the way, Gabriel and I was waiting for him.

Soon, along with several other passengers, We could see him, who was looking for the familiar face of my brother in the crowd. The smile emerged on his face in the moment they made eye contact. 

Damn this man is so good looking… Suddenly I remembered why I had that crush on him.

-Hey, How long, man?! - Gabriel said with a smile as he opened his arms to hug Gerard.

- Hell yeah! How have you been? - That pretty smile still in his face.

- Great! Better now that i know we'll gonna work together again!

I just couldn't stop looking at him… I think he noticed, ‘cause he looked back at me.

-Lemme guess… Your sister, right? - The lovely look on his eyes as he extended his hand to greet me made my face burn. - He talks alot about you, I was excited to finally meet you!

- So as I! - I shaked his hand and smile back at him, trying not to overdo it.

- She's A huge fan! 

The death look I gave Gabriel made Gerard laugh a bit, but not enough to make me feel more embarrassed than I already was.  

-Well, that's true, but why don't we go home? - i said - You need help with that? 

I pointed to the two suitcases he was carrying.

-That's fine. I can handle two of them. Thanks! - i swear, his eyes was glowing… im not that crazy! 

We put Gerard's things in the trunk of my brother's car and we went back home. 

During the way, all I could think about were those hazel eyes and how I felt a connection... it was inexplicable, maybe it's just nonsense in my head. But there's always a ‘maybe not’, right?

Gerard's 1st person POV

I don't know what that was. But THAT was fucking something! The way she look? Maybe, but not just that. don't know! 

I haven't even talked with her, but I hope we have time to get to know each other well. Because that was something.

At home, Gabriel showed me the office and the room i'll stay in.

He has such a pretty house, and all the pencils, markers, and art stuff get me even more excited to start work. But his sister is still in my mind... The best I can do now is go to sleep, cause all the way in the airplane just stressed me out.

Reader's 1st person POV

First things first, i woke up early to do exactly the thing my brother wants me to do: cook. 

I was distracted preparing coffee, and heard a familiar voice from the back of the kitchen.

-Morning… - Even though his voice was dragging because he had just woken up, he still sounded so good. 

Gerard sat at the table while I finished preparing breakfast.

- Morning! How was your night? Did you sleep well? - I asked, trying to start a conversation.

- Yeah, really well, and the feeling of waking up with this smell is just amazing! - He smiled, rubbing his eyes.

- I'm glad you like it. - the feeling of relief and joy took over me, I think being normal will be easier than I imagined…

*** time skip ***

The next two days was normal, just small talks, because the purpose of him coming was not to talk to me, but to work, right? Still, it would be nice to take an hour or two just to talk.

Or not, i keep thinking about the feeling in the airport, i want to feel that again. 

Gabriel left early this morning to look for who knows what, which ended up making room for a break from work. 

I was sitting on the couch, watching a rerun of my favorite movie when Gee appeared in the living room and sat next to me.

-Finally a break, hun? - he said, with his usual smile, which by the way I always thought was beautiful - Don't get me wrong, I love to do that, but sometimes Gabe just goes too deep.

- Yeah, I know… he is intense. Family thing, I guess… - I chuckled and turn the TV off, so we could talk. - Same eyes and same craziness.

We laughed for a moment, but he seemed to concentrate on confirming the similarity between my eyes and my brother's eyes. A shiver went down my spine when the look stopped being critical and became appreciative. It's incredible how artists can vary between technique and feeling.

The situation made me want to kiss him, but I think this is out of the limits, considering his relationship with my brother. I respect that and never gonna do something that could ruin it. 

-  Transcendently impressive… - The way he spoke made it seem like he was in some kind of trance. - Your eyes. 

I gasped in shock. I didn’t know what to say. I just stood still, while my breath was panting.

-Thanks! - I pulled from somewhere within me the confidence to thank and return the compliment. - I can say the same about yours, maybe even more.

- I think you're exaggerating, but thank you - I thought the situation would be awkward, but Gee seemed increasingly comfortable with my company. - May I ask you something?

- Sure! - My curiosity barely let him finish the sentence. - Anything.

- Did you feel that at the airport? - He sighed as if taking a huge weight off his chest. - Because i did. Sorry if it sounds weird or...

- Thank God! I thought i was freak out. So there WAS something. - I quickly got up from the couch and practically jumped for joy. - The last days i couldn't barely sleep thinking of you! Well, not YOU but the whole situation and-

It happened so quickly that I couldn't register in my mind when he stood up, even less could I believe that he cut me off with a kiss. 

-I thought about you too, sugar… 

Before I could do anything, he kissed me again, that feeling it was becoming clearer and clearer, with every second my lips remained close to his.

The next few days were a bit different… not like we just makeout a lot of times, but some quick looks, kisses and conversations. We discovered that we have more in common than we imagined…

Now, taking advantage of Gerard's last moments here, I decided that I would help him pack his bags, so that we could make, whatever our relationship is, last longer. While we were talking, I couldn't help but notice the t-shirt he was putting on his suitcase. 

-Oh my god, i didn't notice… you brought THE shirt! 

- What do you mean? - He was confused, but then he looked at the shirt and noticed why.

- “Pool Boy At The Vampire Mansion” shirt… it's like THE shirt!  

- Ya know? Keep it.

- WHAT? I don't think-

- You heard me. - He smiled, in the cutest way a human being can smile.- I want you to keep it. I don't know when we're gonna seen each other again, so… 

Gerard dropped the shirt in the bed and got closer to me, placing his hands on my waist and, getting even closer, he pressed his lips to mine gently. The kiss became deep as we let ourselves be carried away by the heat of the moment. 

-This week was perfect. - He said, placing his hand on my cheek and looking into my eyes. - I wish it didn't end now. You know, sugar, I think we could work out… be something. 

- I'm sure that we can make it happend- I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss even more intense than the last. The feeling of hope made it seem like time would stop at that moment. 

~ That's it. Hope u enjoyed :)

[c5rr3ntly-5n4v41l4bl3]

It is 2025 and I am hyper fixating on C!Pumpkin duo again, someone read my one shot from august please please

Walking through the empty halls at night already felt unnerving enough, but getting home this late from a party he wasn't meant to be at, had Quackity feeling like he was walking headfirst into damnation.

How could he have been so stupid? Letting Wilbur do that- begging Wilbur to do those things to him, and for what? Just to feel like shit in every way and walk home in the dark on trembling legs.

At this point if Schlatt didn't kill him for it the guilt would.

Walking into the presidential suite felt more like walking into his execution. He didn't even get a chance to speak, the moment he walked in he was slammed against the wall.

"Where the hell have you been?" Schlatt's voice was more of a low growl, though Quackity almost would've preferred if he yelled, not that it would've made a difference, no one could help anyway.

"I just went to see a friend," Quackity tried to bury the regret in his voice, "I didn't mean to be out so long, I- I'm sorry."

Schlatt's grip tightened, more than likely bruising Q's shoulder. "You better be. You didn't think to tell me you were going out? You never fucking tell me anything."

"M- Mi amor, you're hurting me."

"I'm hurting you? You know how much pain you could be in right now? Being out this late alone, drunk off your ass, you know how easy it would be to fuck you up? You're fucking lucky to be in my arms right now and not dead somewhere."

Tears threatened to spill over, Quackity knew he messed up, he knew Schlatt was right, he should be grateful he cared so much, especially since he didn't deserve it. "I know..."

Schlatt finally let him go, "Let's get you cleaned up, you look like shit."

Quackity stayed silent and still. For a moment he was beyond eager to just be taken care of, but he couldn't let Schlatt see the mess that was made of him, all the marks and ruffled feathers his rival had left behind. He needed an excuse to go alone, but nothing he could say would make a difference in Schlatt's decision and he knew that.

"Come on pumpkin, I'm not doing everything for you." Schlatt grabbed his wrist, practically dragging him to the bathroom, locking the door behind them, likely more to keep them in than keep anyone out.

The next thing he knew his jacket hit the floor and Schlatt was undoing the buttons of his shirt. Quackity's mind was racing as fast as his heart, panic setting in more and more with every inch of his skin being exposed. 

Quackity flinched as Schlatt traced his fingers over bruises and bites, still sore, and obviously fresh, "What the fuck is this?"

Q's heart sank, his breath catching in his throat, he was dead, there wasn't any getting out of this now.

"You're mine god damn it, no one else gets to touch you like this." Schlatt wrapped his fingers in Quackity's hair, "How far did you go? How much did you do?"

"I'm sorry, mi amor, I'm so sorry, it wasn't meant to go that far, I- I had too much to drink and-" Quackity was cut off by a sharp breath as Schlatt pulled tight, tears finally pooled over.

"I don't give a fuck how much you drank, you let someone else do this to you, hell you probably begged for it didn't you? You god damn whore."

"P- Please mi amor, don't- don't hit me, I'm sorry."

"Clearly I need to remind you who you belong to." Schlatt's voice was low and calculated as he picked up his ministrations, undoing Q's shirt and tossing it aside.

Quackity didn't dare to object, whatever he was about to do to him was only going to be worse if he tried to stop it.

He couldn't help the whimper he let out as he was pulled into a kiss so rough and desperate it hurt, flinching when he tasted the blood dripping from his lips.

The moment Schlatt pulled away Quackity was choking back sobs. Schlatt let go of him, running his hand down through his hair to his shoulder and forcing him to his knees.

Quackity swallowed hard, just watching as Schlatt went through the vanity drawers, he didn't let him see what he took out, but the sound it made when it hit the side of the counter told him it was sharp.

Schlatt seated himself on the floor and pulled Quackity into his lap, "You're going to hold still and not make a sound until I'm done, got it?"

"Y- Yeah- yes..." Quackity's breath finally evened out a bit, he knew what came next was going to be hell, but it wouldn't be anything he didn't deserve, Schlatt still loved him, the fact he was in his arms was proof of that. "Can... can I touch you?... please."

"You think you deserve that? You're lucky I don't tie you down right now."

Quackity nearly begged him, but bit his lip instead, balling his hands into fists in his lap.

Schlatt let out a sigh, "You know what? fine, go ahead, however you want." There was a flicker of something inviting in his tone, something that said he wanted him to.

Q hesitated for just a moment before wrapping his arms around his fiancé, burying his face in his neck and holding onto him as tight as the guilt felt around his heart.

His anxiety spiked hard when he felt Schlatt's fingers run along his wing, but it was scarily gentle, and for a moment he let himself be naive enough to think it would stay that way.

He should've known it wouldn't. Quackity bit down hard on Schlatt's shoulder, desperately trying to keep from crying out as searing pain shot through his wing, racking his body. He let out a choked whimper, feeling pieces of feathers and drops of blood roll down his back.

He dug his fingers into him until his nails broke skin, but Schlatt didn't seem to mind any of Q's attempts to ground himself, he'd always seemed to take pride in any marks Quackity left on him, though it was usually under much better circumstances.

Quackity clung to Schlatt like a lifeline, and at that point he might as well have been. Each clip of his wings was deliberate, meant to draw as much pain as possible, and if he hadn't had something to hold onto, he had no chance of making it out if this.

Schlatt had to have hit a nerve. Quackity tried so hard to stay quiet, but he couldn't help the guttural, choked, sob that was torn out of him as the pain peaked. Every inch of him trembled in his fiancé's arms as he found himself fighting to stay lucid through it all.

The next few minutes were a blur of suffering, Q drifting in and out of consciousness, each moment an agonizing reminder of his guilt. As he felt himself finally blacking out, he could hear the scissors clang against the tile and Schlatt whispering something to him, his tone dizzyingly soft, but he was too out of it to hear his words.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in bed, alone, every part of him either aching or numb. He'd been cleaned up and his wings were haphazardly bandaged, it didn't matter how hard he tried, they wouldn't do more than twitch.

The taste of whisky lingered on his lips, and he could hear his fiancé's voice in the back of his mind, dozens of "I love you"s he told himself he didn't want to hear again, but he knew he would, and he'd say he loved him too.

[enigmatist17]

A cute hc that I read and accepted :)

---

Heatwave was happy to be heading to his home in Griffin Rock. As much as he enjoyed the missions Optimus assigned him occasionally, the small island with its accident-prone human populace had become his sanctuary. His latest mission had taken him to a few small towns in various countries for a few weeks longer than projected, and he was exhausted from the non-stop travel in his alt form. The firehouse was empty when he finally rolled in, and Heatwave just descended into the lower half of the building, yawning as he trudged to his berth and fell right into recharge.

His helm is being cradled when Heatwave eventually onlines, his chronometer noting he'd been out for just shy of 12 breems, which he'd been expecting. The servo gently cradling his faceplate was not expected, however, and Heatwave cycles his optics with a frown, ready to tell off whoever decided to touch him.

His vocalizer remains silent when his optics land on a familiar frame, someone he had figured long dead during his time in stasis.

"Creator?" It was the first time his voice had cracked, the rescue bot frozen as his creator smiled, azure optics that had watched over Heatwave from his creation until the day he'd left with his team lit up with pure joy. With a trembling servo the younger bot reached up, touching one wing-shaped finial with a soft click, cycling his optics off with a long and slow vent. "It's..."

"I'm here Heatwave, alive an' well." Inferno cooed to his creation with all the love he could pour into the words, smiling when he felt a hesitant tug to his spark. He responded with a nudge as Heatwave sat up, moving to hug Inferno as tight as he could manage while mumbling in their native tongue, deciding to be selfish for the first time in eons.

"When did you get here? How long have you been here?" The questions are laced with static as Heatwave does his best to repress the emotions rushing through his processor, the whirring of his creator's spark going a long way in settling frayed nerves.

"We arrived 'bout three mega-cycles ago, but got to yer island two solar-cycles ago." Heatwave pulled back with an optic ridge raised, and Inferno could only smile.

"We?"

"If yer willin' ta come upstairs, I know someone else who'd be happy to see you." Heatwave froze briefly before clambering off his berth like an excited sparkling, racing out of the room and up for the elevator as the older mech trailed behind. The rescue bot leader would have felt ashamed at leaving his creator behind, but as he ascends to the main floor, his spark reaches out for another. The voices trailing inside from the basketball court abruptly stop as Heatwave bolts for the hanger doors, not even remembering traveling the short distance before his optics land on a new bot standing amongst his team.

New for the humans, but old and painfully familiar to Heatwave. No one moved as the slightly shorter bot speaking with Chase took a step forward, a small spark of electricity curling up one of the horns on his helm and sparking into the air with a soft buzz.

"You've gotten taller." Another tendril of electricity crossed his horns as the bot approached Heatwave, the fire truck slowly offering one servo with a smile usually directed toward Cody.

"My alt mode is pretty big, like Creator's is." After a quick scan, the smaller bot took his offered servo, giving it a squeeze before reaching up to take Heatwave's faceplate into both hands.

"I am so relieved to see you alive and well." Heatwave's smile grew as he cycled his optics off for a moment, reveling in the touch as he felt Inferno finally join them, clearly pleased to see their small family back together again.

"I've missed you too Carrier, more than I can ever say." That's all it takes for Red Alert to fold, embracing his creation close with a soft series of clicks that Heatwave responded to in kind, an old song and dance none of them ever expected to do again. Inferno gently gathered his family into his arms, quietly thinking Primus that he and his bonded had been allowed this miracle after fighting for too long.

[itz-queenayt]

Rules when requesting. (updated)

Read this post if you are planning to request.

Note: I'm if you did request, now I will only reply after I'm done the drawing. (I replied to one but from now on I'll only reply when I have the finished product. )

If you are requesting, please click the ask option, or the 'Send Art Requests!' or DM me since it's pretty easy I think.

Art Requests:

I am only going to draw fictional character as I don't want to actually draw real people, since that's kind of a breach of privacy, if I post it.

I don't draw NSFW, please keep the requests SFW, to spare everyone from seeing what they don't want to.

I don't draw heavy gore, maybe just a bit of it, but not too much or else it's just going to end up scaring peoe in certain ways. (Specifically people with Hemophobia, or the fear of blood. )

I can draw OCs as long as you provide a SS on how they look like.

Please don't yell at me if it takes too long, as it takes me along time to draw all of this stuff for you guys.

I draw mainly TWST (twisted wonderland), but I can also PJSK (Project:SEKAI), Danganronpa/Project Edens Garden soon, but I can try to draw Genshin Impact, and Honkai (HSR/ Star Rail, specifically) .

I can draw ship content as long as it's not NSFW.

I can also do Yandere Content if anyone wants to.

If there is a main character within any of the posts, (especially the Yandere TWST x reader. ) I'll try to keep them as a non binary and it won't be any specific oc as well.

Just to clearly this for everyone, I draw all genders of OCs/characters.

Don't yell at me to hurry up, it takes along time to draw things.

These Rules are quite bad and short compared to other rules I've seen, but this is all I have time to write, and I have no actual experience with writing rules.

Recap:

What I draw:

Yandere Twst (Platonic Ortho ONLY)

Yandere Sketches (Mostly Twst)

Little sketches (all fandoms mentioned above)

Head Sketches

Your OCs

Tiny amount of gore sketches(Mainly for yandere)

Ships (sometimes)

Character x Reader

Drawing OCs in pjsk (or TWST art styles, pjsk is easier though.)

What I DON'T draw

Proships

To much gore

Nswf

Yandere Ortho (Platonic ONLY allowed)

Yandere children

Inappropriate contents

Real faces/people IRL (please stop sending me photos of real people in my DMs)

Animals (I can't draw animals that well, I'm being honest, sorry for upsetting those who actually want me to draw a pet. TWST aren't really full animals so I still draw them. Talking to you Kingscholar, Bucchi, and Jack. )

[bellarkeselection]

We already had tony with a pregnant wife, now can we have tony and the wife having a beautiful baby boy? I'm totally in love with your tony

Mini Tony Stark

Tags @mcugeekposts @underoostarks @rosie-posie08 @makeshift-prime

Most people never imagined Tony Stark as a father. He had quite a reputation of being a billionaire playboy that would spend most of his spare time in his lab or be off saving the world as Iron Man. But no matter what his next project was he has been there for me through all the steps of the pregnancy even if I really didn't think he needed to come sometimes. Tony rolled me through the hospital hallway while my fingers were death gripping the handles of the wheelchair. "Athony, urgh!...you have no idea how much I hate and love you right now!"

"Listen, baby, I know you want to rip my head off right now. But think about all the preparations we have been doing for the baby. We get to bring home a little bundle of joy that is all our own." He rounded the chair with the nurses coming on either side of me helping me up into the bed with me baring my teeth in pain down my back.

Once I was settled on the bed and changed into a hospital gown it was quite a few hours of painful contractions. Honestly I just wanted the contractions to be over with already. This was our first baby and I was completely terrified and excited all at once. "Tony....please tell me you did not go get a cheeseburger." I grumbled not being able to have any food since I was now induced into the hospital labor. So my heightened senses could almost clearly locate that he was hiding the fact that he had left the room to get some food.

"Maybe....but don't get mad because I saw these in the store and thought you would like them." He opened a bag revealing a blue tea shirt with iron man on the front and another shirt that was pink for a girl that looked like Natasha as Black Widow.

Wiping away some tears that were falling down my face I was so excited for either option. "Awe Tony....ah geez shit!" We decided to not know the gender until the day of so we were losing our patience on this baby coming.

"It's okay, Y/n. It's gonna be alright I'm not going anywhere." He dropped the bag immediately coming over to grasp my hand in his. We had gotten married basically the day after he announced he was Iron Man but I wouldn't change anything about it.

A doctor and some nurses quickly came into our room coming to see if I was ready to push since we had been at the hospital for almost two days but I still hadn't given birth yet. "Good news, Mrs. Stark. You're now where we want you to be. You can start pushing in a few moments here."

"Tony, I'm scared. What if something goes wrong. What if we lose the baby. What if-" He cuts off my nerves cupping my face in his hands so I'd stare into those deep brown eyes that I could get lost in if I so tried every second if the universe would let me so.

The superhero shakes his head trying to remain calm for me. Yet I could read that he was more nervous than I was. He didn't have to worry about just the little human we created inside of my belly. No, he had to also worry about the love of his life too. He runs his fingers through my hair getting it out of my eyes seeing that the doctor and nurses were now dressed for the birth. "Alright Mrs. Stark you can start pushing now."

Gripping my husband's hand in my right I moved my left to death grip the bedsheets on the other side of me beginning to push which was honestly the hardest thing I have ever had to do. There was heavy sweat coming down my forehead and I had lost count by how long I must have been pushing for. My throat was raw and sore from the screaming. "You're doing great honey. The baby is almost here." Tony was doing his best to reassure me.

"Until you have to push a human being out of where you pee I don't think you get to say how good I am doing - oh you-" I cut myself off almost passing out from how tired I was. Laying my head against my husband's chest the doctors were giving me a quick moment to breathe but the baby still had part of its body inside of me sp I wasn't out of the woods yet.

Tony opened his mouth to say something but he paused until an idea popped into his genius head that he knew he would be getting into trouble for later. He turns my chin so I was looking at him and not the medical people seeing that they were stressing me out more than I already was apparently. "Awe come on Y/n. You don't remember the night we conceived this little boy or girl. I mean I think you were more than enjoying yourself when you said the words, oh Tony faster. Don't stop I need you to make love to me. I want you to-"

"Anthony Stark, how dare you talk about our martial life in front of - oh..." I quickly shut up, wanting to slap my lover across the face so much. My face fell like it had become even redder before he ever brought the night of our wedding that we first slept together. Giving the last few big pushes that I could the doctor finally caught our baby raising to hand the infant off to the nurses so they could clean it and tell us the gender.

"You did amazing, sweet wife. I love you." Tony dropped down on his at my bedside pressing his lips onto my forehead then giving me a kiss on the lips to calm me down.

Leaning into the kiss I gripped his shoulders breaking the moment and flinging my arms around his neck sobbing tiredly into his shoulder blade. "I love you too...is the baby okay?" He wrapped his arms around my waist glancing over in the direction of the infant.

Pulling slightly away from my husband I could see that he was crying more than I imagined he would be. "Actually honey I think we have twins. So we get to have two new member members of the Stark family."

"Congrats, Mr and Mrs. Stark. You have a boy and a girl." The nurse declared handing one of the babies to me and the other to my husband.

Moving my gaze downward I smiled through tears watching the baby boy in my arms. "I know a name, Tony. We should call him Robert."

"And this should be Morgan." He gestures his head at the sleeping baby girl in his arms grinning the biggest smile I had ever seen. Tony sat down on the edge of the bed handing me the other child or ours. Laying my head on his chest he mumbled before I fell asleep. "I bought you some cheeseburgers too."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[sarahjtv]

Thank you, My Hero Academia

Today, August 4th in the West and August 5th in the East, the My Hero Academia or Boku No Hero Academia manga has finally ended after 10 years of serialization in Weekly Shonen Jump with 430 chapters total.

It still doesn't feel real, but it is. I finished reading the final chapter a little over an hour ago and I can say that I am very happy with this ending. The only real complaint I have now is that I wish Horikoshi gave us more chapters for the epilogue to give us more content. The 5 chapter epilogue we got was definitely rushed in some parts, but we should still be blessed we got those 5 chapters at all because I cannot tell you how many times mangaka shortened their epilogues to 1-2 chapters, and then that's it. Apparently he has a lot of pages left in the final Volume to fill in, so we’ll see if Horikoshi will expand on things when it releases in early December. For how it was as a final chapter, it's was near perfect.

Having Izuku become a teacher at UA was a great alternative to becoming a Pro Hero after the embers of OFA faded away. Teachers inspire their students to strive forward and follow their dreams. If he wasn't going to be a Pro Hero, being a teacher at his Alma Mata is a great consolation prize. Thankfully, that dream of Izuku's didn't die.

Izuku did so much for the world and the people around him for that 1+ year that it was going to give something good back to him somehow. Though it took 8 years, thanks to his friends supporting him all the way through, he is able to continue living his dream as a Hero with his friends by his side. Considering the fact that All Might's Iron Might suit cost most of his fortune, I gotta wonder how much it cost to make Izuku's support suit. Shoto, Momo, and Iida are all rich thanks to their family's inheritance, but I'm sure everyone else had to save up a shit ton of cash to get this project done ESPECIALLY BAKUGO! I'm glad they got there in the end anyway.

And seeing our beloved kids as adults (I think they're 24-25 now) leading the way for a better world is so satisfying to see. I love all their upgraded looks and outfits too! I hope we get more details about them in the upcoming Fan Book and Art Book next year! Honestly, I'm going to miss this entire cast even Mineta of all people. Horikoshi clearly put a lot of love and care into each one of his characters no matter how small of a role they played. I saw these kids and even adults grow into amazing people and heroes for the better part of the last decade and saying goodbye to them is like saying goodbye to a good friend.

Despite its problems, this story will always hold a special place in my heart. It was a beacon of hope for me over the past 6-ish years and I'd argue that it saved my life when my life was in the pits. It still is today in a way. I can't give My Hero Academia an honest rating without bias kicking in hard, but I think this is one of the best manga that Shonen Jump had to offer. I'm so glad Horikoshi got to end his story on his own terms and ended up being one of THE most successful mangaka in modern WSJ. He deserves everything good that ever comes to him. Please don't ruin that for us, sir lol.

Regardless, thank you, Kohei Horikoshi. Thank you for telling this incredibly special story of a young boy who became the greatest hero and how everyone can be a hero Quirkless or not. I will forever be grateful for what you brought to me and I will cry happy tears as I say goodbye. I hope you take a long, deserving break for now. I look forward to whatever you have in store for this world next.

[vaporclan]

you know, as someone who has been following this comic for a long long time (almost from the start. and is likely one of the worst offenders when it came to spam liking since i used likes to keep track of where i was. for that i apologize, but i digress.) and as someone who is very interested in psychology, the inner workings of the mind, what compels people to behave the way they do, etc., you have truly gone above and beyond here.

you are clearly so passionate about your characters, all of them (even if sootsky is somewhat of an exception, i still feel as though he means something to you as a character because you wrote for him and he developed at your hand) no matter how misguided, stubborn/uncooperative, and/or fueled by unsettled conflicts, unprocessed trauma mental turmoil they are; because you understand them.

they aren't just characters to you; they're like your "children" for lack of a better comparison. they're entirely three-dimensional to you and, although I'm not implying by any means that you don't see them as fictional, you breathed so much life into them that i truly do think that they have become something so special and alive. their world truly is that: a whole other World, with every individual living their own lives with their own thoughts, feelings, and motives, and while you obviously control what happens and make changes/add lore as you see fit, i truly do believe that these characters are telling their own stories through you.

i'm not sure if i'm being coherent/clear here as i am a highly abstract thinker and oftentimes overexplain things in an attempt to make it more understandable when it actually has the opposite effect and makes my thoughts more confusing/hard to understand. if i said anything that is incorrect, inaccurate, or pushing any of your boundaries, i deeply apologize. i just wanted to take the time and write out my thoughts to you in an attempt to say that i am so very impressed with the depth of this comic about cats with an origin from a game with randomly-generated events. again, it is so clear that you have put immense thought into each and every character, and your passion for this project is both admirable and very clear to any of your audience who are taking the time to analyze and read unbiased. and, even if some people aren't exactly doing that, there is no one who can deny the amount of effort you have put into this comic and how much you have accomplished in so little time.

you don't have to answer this ask or anything, so please don't feel obligated to. i don't require a response; it just feels nice to finally express my thoughts about this comic to you and it feels like the appropriate time to do so with the finale finally here and a new start coming soon.

i hope you have a wonderful day/night and that however long or short this next arc of the comic may be (and any other potential arcs/spinoffs), it brings you so much joy and pride. it certainly has given me a very complex and interesting story that i both enjoy and find incredibly thought-provoking/very relevant to my interests and studies. keep on doing what you're doing so long as it makes you feel good!

-crookedanchors / warriorwhiskers 💛

THIS IS SUCH A NICE ASK ur so right btw

I tend to put myself in my characters shoes and feel what they feel and I write how they're thinking and feeling from the heart

Some characters are inspired in places by real people I've known / their mindset and even me myself (but most characters arent)

Its crazy to me that I've managed to do all this tbh I've never created complex characters like this before this comic

This has all been very experimental for me

[cloudysonder]

On "Daddy Issues"

Ok, I know I'm a bit late to the game here, but I was gathering my thoughts after experiencing episode 5 and 6

Let me preface this with the fact that I am a Hazbin Hotel fan; it's cringe and it's not the best writing in the world, but I love the characters and the concept and the art. I know a lot of people disagree and completely despise it and hey, you do you, but this is a silly little thing I enjoy and think is fun

but oof. episode 5 and 6 were rough, execution-wise. Also worth mentioning that episode 5 followed on the heels of episode 4, which was dealing with a lot of heavy topics and gave Angel a lot of character development very quickly and had a wonderful song and a budding relationship between Husk and Angel that was fantastic, so to get a confusing and overwhelming yet completely inefficient episode (ep 5) and then an episode with SO MUCH HAPPENING that it absolutely bowled you over with plot points and world building that weren't given a single second to breathe was really disappointing. I'll put the meat under a read more, but that's the thesis

this post is just gonna be on episode 5, and I'll make another one on episode 6 bc christ almighty both of them are gonna be long

Episode 5 was something I was really looking forward to-- Of the main cast, Charlie and Vaggie seemed the least intriguing to me (oh, did I say "seemed" past tense? haha! they still most definitely are the least interesting!), and I wanted to see how they would introduce something they've been building up to for a while: Charlie's famed "Daddy issues"!

Turns out, instead of actually keeping it as a point of intrigue for Charlie's character and using it as a point of tension to show that hey, Charlie isn't actually a perfect person, and she's also in pain with the rest of the sinners because her own family relationships are falling apart, they solve it in a single episode. That's right! The long-awaited, complicated, divorced parent and child relationship that twisted Charlie into a validation seeking, people pleasing princess that "wants to fix other people so she doesn't have to deal with her own daddy issues" (quote by Husk) is solved with a charming performance by Jeremy Jordan and a song!

Look, it's no secret I'm a huge fan of Loser, Baby-- I clearly have no qualms with storytelling through song. But you cannot song-plain this one away. We've established over 4 episodes that Charlie and her father have kept in minimal contact for seven years. That's a Long time (don't go trying to be like, oh time to charlie works differently, bc that shit's not established, and everyone in the show still treats seven years like a long time). We know that the last time they called each other was 5 months ago.

"More than Anything," solves basically everything by making the following points

Charlie was inspired by her Dad's dreaming

Lucifer was ashamed of his failures and hid away from her

Lucifer does, however, want so so deeply to know Charlie

Charlie wants to know Lucifer

They love each other <3

these are fine endgame points. Dare I say... good endgame points to arrive at?? But you can't stuff ALL these revelations into a single song and call it a finished relationship arc when they haven't spoken for real in 7 YEARS. Also, making Lucifer so goofy and silly and fun and charming is Not helping the establishment of his character as a self-hating former dreamer who doesn't want his daughter to make the same mistakes he did. It just turns him to tumblr sexyman cute quirky sympathetic never did anything wrong and loves his daughter, completely downplaying his absentee parenting.

You can't have him turn from "I do not care about your life. I do not care about your project. I will not ask about your passions and your dreams. I am already ashamed of my own." to "ur so right bestie!!! dreaming is so slay mama!!! I love you so much you're my little baby girl I love you so much, you're right and I will support you!!!" in the course of a single episode without like.... at least 3 real, in depth conversations happening. The song is beautiful, but you can't poetry your way out of an actual relationship arc.

BUT! But, but but! The fault does not lie completely with Lucifer, but also with Charlie. girl just forgave him??? For everything????? Despite having been so scared to call him at the beginning of the episode? It's very unrealistic for a kid to just accept that a parent loves them apparently so so deeply when they've never seen proof of it in the last idk just spitballing a number here SEVEN YEARS. If you want to make the crux of a failed parent-child relationship miscommunication, you're gonna have to get into the ugly--- the grieving of what you could've had earlier, the wondering why you didn't reach out earlier, the anger at why they've suddenly changed now--- and you're gonna have to explain why the miscommunication went on so long.

sometimes, if you have a pair of completely uncommunicative people, seven years may be reasonable. But Charlie is open about her passions! She's public! She constantly reads about "The Story of Hell" and paints Lucifer in a positive light! And Lucifer is quick to reciprocate any interest Charlie shows in him! He's quick to offer help, to spoil Charlie and show love! (Lucifer's points are two points that make SEVEN YEARS of MINIMAL CONTACT and MISCOMMUNICATION make ZERO SENSE).

additionally, Charlie's lowkey only point of intrigue that was set up (her relationship to Lucifer, the King of Hell) is now just... kapoot. solved. pish posh. now she's a done character.

THEN EXPLAIN WHY I STILL DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT HER???? I haven't seen her actually struggle in a way that's not played off as a bit, we don't get a real charlie breakdown monologue, there are no stakes for me as a hazbin hotel viewer to want everything to go well for charlie besides my acab rad leftist ass being like redemption and forgiveness is good and ultimately benefits society

she's fun, she's bubbly, she's kind! but those are all basic things we knew from minute 1 she was on screen. I need to see her struggle. For a main character, she sure as hell doesn't feel main. And I expected better female characters from female writers (feat. in my next post, Vaggie????? What the hell?).

goodnight new york city, you've been great!

[ladyseidr]

So, as you may know from his muse page, Rory has ( obviously undiagnosed ) ADHD. I wanted to delve more into this ( and project some of my ADHD onto him lmaooo ).

so, we'll start heavier and then move on to the mostly lighter stuff: yes, his ADHD is disabling. no, he does not know that. yes, he's thinks he's just lazy and stupid ( he's not </3 ).

no, his would-be-shitty-no-matter-what parents do not help the above, although his mom's emotional abuse / judgment actually gives him the bigger complex abt it

he does struggle academically despite the fact that, talking to him about his interests / stuff he's knowledgeable about, he clearly comes across intelligent. he struggles with focus, some memory issues, plus general test anxiety despite claiming to not care about school. he hears a lot of "try harder" despite, like, actually putting effort in for many years of his schooling.

he graduates high school, barely ( as in, highly considered dropping out for 101 reason, including the ADHD ). no, he doesn't even consider college.

the combination of untreated ADHD, C-PTSD, and definitely an ( un ) healthy dose of depression make it hard for him to work "traditional jobs," so he does mostly odd jobs. at some point after getting his own place, i def think he starts diving into his art a little more. can aspen write a muse who isn't a creative? tune in next time to find out.

unrelated, but i am serious about the band idea. about him joining some local, semi-decent band as a singer.

ANYWAY some lighter stuff now: guy who always has one major ( months and months long ) and one minor ( 1-2 weeks ) hyperfixation going on at all times.

his common types of hyperfixations tend to be: specific comic book series or characters, specific bands, D&D, video games, and so forth.

he does get pulled back to previous hyperfixations sometimes, especially favorite characters ( like batg.irl, green ar.row, nightc.rawler, spid.er-man, etc )

please let him infodump at you. please let your muse find it endearing when he talks for 30 minutes straight about the latest Batm.an series. or about his new spray paint. or about anything.

btw i'm adding this just to be petty because i brought up comics but i promise you he called in and voted for jason not to die. i think older rory read "Under the H.ood" and felt the most validation he'd ever felt in his life. this isn't even fn.af-related anymore, let me get mad about D.C for a second—

( actually let's be real rory relating to jason big time is Real and Canon to me. anyway hayla, if you're reading this—)

sometimes his brain moves faster than his mouth and he literally can't say what he wants to say fast enough to get it out coherently ( real real real ).

he does miss social cues sometimes, but how much of that is ADHD vs him just not being properly socialized prior to school is debatable. pre-bite, he's able to laugh it off when someone calls him on it.

projecting big time but i think he should be a rocker ( as a stim ). if he's sitting down, he's probably rocking or bouncing his leg or something. if he's standing, he's shifting foot-to-foot constantly. that's not to say he can never be still, but he stims quite a lot. it's not always ( or even often ) a sign of nerves, he just gets restless.

in fact, honestly a lot of his idle behavior can scream "nervous" if you don't realize he's simply restless.

his recklessness is honestly not something i'd attribute to his ADHD. he has little care for his own safety, but i think that's a lot broader then ( or even wholly unrelated to ) his ADHD

does he ever get diagnosed? it's probably well into his 30s before he can even be convinced to try therapy, but yeah, i think eventually he gets diagnosed and tbh i think he probably cried the first time he read the, like, symptoms of it and realized it fit him. also when he gets on medication. this is supposed to be a happy bullet point but AGH </3

anyway rory infodumping at your muse starter call when?

[sleeplesssmol]

Hello, I would just like to say thank you for writing your thoughts and theories because I've been enjoying reading through them and also for giving me much more to think about! (If not for you, I'd have missed a lot more details lol) (I actually have nothing to ask, I just wanted to say that)

Thank you for the kind message! My brain is always cooking 🍳 it's a blessing and a curse lol!

I know we have interesting things on the horizon so I have shelved the crazier for ones for now. Skimming through the game is always fun for me. From the background to the voicelines and the little enemy snippets. There is so much to see!

That being said I know I should be working on my recap project for my own sake (easy to misremeber things or forget little details) but I've been compiling list of crew member interactions (most from wiki) that involve dragging Vertin into their shenanigans instead...

Absolutely self-indulgent and self-inflicted brain rot. It's Vertin's fault. She plays along with them! For example:

An-an Lee:

I've got you some very horrible movies, and I promise you it's gonna be an unforgettable evening! (Horror movie night with the gang)

Hey, girl! Wanna hang out somewhere? Don't waste such a wonderful night! (Girls night!)

Sotheby:

...You're here! My experiment is almost the last step. Go find 500 grams of liquid gold and help me settle it! (Vertin walking into madness)

I just bought a rare and strong bicorn. I heard it only came out at night... A bull? Eh? Am I tricked? And... does bull have anything to do with beef? (Sotheby needs supervision when she goes shopping, preferably an adult that isn't Pavia.)

Lilya:

Go. Don't be annoying. I am going to take care of my lady Su-01ве now. You want to help? What if you break it? (this is the rare case of Vertin wanting to take part in something and being turned down. She clearly like Lilya a lot from the voicelines. Like a chaotic big sister or maybe that one drunk auntie who is always fun?)

There's still a vacancy behind me on my broomstick. Would you like to ride together? Of course, if you dare to vomit on my back, I won't spare you. (Aw, she squishy in the center.)

Poltergeist:

Hi, what did you dream about last night? You were mumbling in your dream. I could barely hear anything even though I have moved very very close to you. (if she did this to Sonetto, Vertin would need a new assistant. I like the idea of Vertin being so used to this shit she didn't flinch)

Can you stay? Can we talk, just... just for a while. Please look at me. But... not for too long. You can watch me for 3.5 seconds, and look away for... for 5 seconds. Then look back at me again. (why is this relatable?)

Vertin being a baby and Suitcase dad at the same time is my life blood. SHE CAN DO BOTH